Mopping up

The whole mob of kobolds surged forward, their king at the lead. The glow of his mace reflected against the cold stone of the throne room. The party waited for them. Small spears clattered past them, hurled by the kobold pack. Gildrid was too weak to draw his bow, and he was out of arrows anyway. Nemon began throwing daggers at the front rank of kobolds. They weren't really throwing daggers, but kobold short swords he had plundered from the dead earlier. Several of the tiny, angry creatures fell to the daggers. But the rest came on.
Laramine swung at the king. It went wide and missed. The kobold king's mace cracked into Laramine's side, sending him flying across the floor. The veteran sea raider was soon swarmed by barking kobolds.
Nemon flailed at his attackers, sending a kobold flying with each swing. Miss Adventure, glad to be finally fighting someone her size, dived into the fray with reckless abandon.
Laramine pulled free of his assailants to face the kobold king. He took the mace with his great sword. The metal of his blade hissed and sparked. Though the little king was half his size, the kobold's strength seemed doubled. A kick put the king a few paces back, then a swing sent his head in a great bloody arc across the hall.
The few remaining kobolds broke off and ran for a dark corridor to the right of the throne. Bruised and bloody, four adventurers looted the dead, finding a few coppers. The mace had stopped glowing once the king died. Laramine picked it up, but it remained dark.
"Lemme see that", Nemon said taking the mace. He tapped it on the ground and the blue flames ignited once again.
Using the light of the mace, they found another door to the left of the throne. It seemed more ornate around the entrance. A short hall led to a door, this one sturdier than any they had seen so far. It was locked.
"Ungh!" Nemon smashed the mace into the door. It blew apart and in. The room beyond was decorated with items looted from the above world. Everyday things were given special places of honor. An old butter churn sat upon a corner alter. Tools and farm equipment sat on rotting satin pillows, while books were used to prop up corners of a tattered, man sized bed. As much as could be grabbed, was. Nemon and Laramine threw anything of value in their oversized bags, while Gildrid collapsed on the bed. Miss Adventure made another discovery. Behind a moth eaten curtain she found a closet. It was packed with boxes and shelves, and guarding it was a hissing Kobold youth. It was obviously frightened. It's little hands held a dagger at the halfling, but those same hands were trembling.
"Hey fellas," she said" what do I do with this guy?"
Nemon marched over and bashed it's head in with the mace. Miss Adventure stared at the gore that spattered on her, in disgust.
The closet yielded little gold, and a few trinkets. Gildrid lay on the bed groaning and close to unconsciousness. "All right," Laramine spoke, "we gotta try something."
He grabbed the jar full of white paste they found earlier. "Here goes nothing", and began spreading on Gildrid's spider bite. The elf howled in pain. Whatever kobolds left in the complex, were now probably doubly scared.
To everyone's amazement, the salve seemed to work. The black and blue scar ceased its crawl across Gildrid's neck and face. He perked up immediately but was still weak.
"Okay", Nemon said, lets get out of here."
There was no way out of the room other than the way they came. They decided to follow the kobold's lead and head out the hall to the right of the throne. It lead to a tunnel up. Apparently this was the escape hatch. Struggling up the almost vertical earthen tunnel they emerged into the world above.
The sun was going down, and the party was unsure how large the kobold tunnels below stretched or how many might come to the aid of their brethren.
"Beaten and bruised, with one dead," Laramine said, "and nothing to show but a few lousy coppers and a glowing mace. Great. Let's find the horses."