The heroes set out from Greenest to discover more of the mystery of the assault of the Dragon Cult…
Dusk in the camp. Dinner fires light up all around you as humans and kobolds alike start to prepare their evening meal. It was a long day and night for them too since the raid was just last night and they marched laden with loot all day to the camp.
It seems no one has noticed the attack on the prisoner’s guards; The Dragonclaws, as they prisoners advise you they are called… one dead and 3 more lying gagged and tied up in a nearby tent.
The prisoners, although frightened, have hope in their eyes for the first time since they were captured and beaten. They frequently look to Luther for reassurance, unable to restrain pleas of “Please get us out of here!” and “Someone will surely notice the guards are gone!” escaping their lips.
Around the heroes, the valley walls climb 150′ into the raised ground above, shielding the many tents of various sizes that dot the landscape from the cold wind.
Leosin can be seen barely in the dim light tied to a stake, head limp, not moving. Scribe‘s nervous gaze flits back and forth from the faces of his companions to Leosin‘s unmoving form; the minutes stretching into hours.
The Dragonclaws were housed alone in the prisoner section, and their particular outfit does not provide much insight on their name, but it is markedly different from the ramshackle outfits worn by the many mercenaries milling about; surely there is more to these captives that meets the eye…
“It looks like the cliff walls are pretty easily climbable, but doing so quietly is far from a guarantee; loose pebbles and debris are scattered everywhere…” Arobyn says loud enough for everyone to hear, but as much to himself as to his companions.
The kobolds and humans still seem to be keeping to themselves, but the raucous calls and commotion coming from the kobold side of the camp is already wearing on your nerves.
The largest tents just on the edge of vision in the dying light are quiet; no one has come or gone in some time. The guards visible at the periphery are still as statues, but their gaze remains outward, watching… perhaps waiting.
