In the dead of winter, Irongate's future looked grim. The fortified mine of Kith Cairn, a mere day's ride from the city, had fallen. By barest chance, our dauntless group of adventurers had managed to salvage a shard of hope. Nelir, one of the elite dwarvish stonesingers, was saved from the grasp of a dark wizard and returned to the safety of Irongate's walls.
Given the stresses they'd been under, the party felt some recovery time was in order. Three weeks rest, and then they would head to the Vast Swamp, the veritable maw of the Scarlet Brotherhood. If there was indeed an artifact hidden in the untamed muck, they were resolved find it.
Being both more slender and more short than the average dwarf, Ann was easily able to melt into the crowd of onlookers. The soldiers' faces remained firm, but their posture had shifted ever so slightly. If the human didn't relent, he would be made to do so. That spark would set off the powderkeg that the adventurer's guild had become. Many had rallied here to oppose the imposition of new taxes on adventurers, especially the tithe on recovered valuables that were brought into the city. Known to adventurers as the "dwarf tax", it was the most oppressive of the unpopular new taxes designed to bolster the city's flagging economy.
Sure enough, the human angrily shoved one of the dwarven soldiers, and they promptly moved to restrain him. Events escalated out of hand almost immediately. It took almost fifteen minutes for the troops to restore order. Miraculously, there were no deaths, despite the magics that a few of the adventurers threw about. Ann could not help but wonder if personally introducing herself to the guard had been wise. She had been concerned that monks might be viewed poorly so close to the brotherhood, and that might hamper her effectiveness. She had worked hard to establish close relations with the guard to forestall any such hindrances. In hindsight, perhaps being associated with the soldierly would do her more harm than good here.
Oleg's charred body was barely recognizable. Rats and insects had already started eating him, and that didn't help much. Nevertheless, it was easy to pick out of the dozen charred corpses, for all but his were human. The rats scattered before the crashing approach of the umber hulk. It led a lone human in red robes to Oleg's corpse, then wordlessly departed. The man knelt at Oleg's side and began his supplication to the dark power he worshiped. Energy gathered at his call, suffusing Oleg's battered form.
Flapping mightily in the strong wind, West bore down on the caravan. They'd make an excellent target for him to test the latest version of the spell he'd been working on. The merchants were gathered around a campfire, eating. So as not to surprise the men, he flew down in lazy circles, calling out once or twice to attract attention. They looked up and pointed, and were very surprised as he landed on a nearby log. After some discussion, they decided to try feeding him. One tore some chunks of meat off the spitted rabbit and tossed them at West.
West, in the skin of an eagle, hopped off his makeshift perch and approached the meat. He quickly gobbled it down, then met the eye of the man who'd fed him. "Thanks!" he said in quite intelligible common. The men jumped up and fled the campfire, panic written across their faces. Try as he might, West knew his hard beak would not bend into a smile.