Chapter Six

## Dead Ends

**Moradag 11th of Biriskjur 1770 to Zwatandag 15th Biriskjur 1770**

The party awoke in their bunks in The Flange and Whistle to find the inn more active than usual. It was Moradag, a day of rest and as such, many of the workers who would usually leave early to set up stalls or attend to the mines and oil drills, were instead engaging in good-natured revelry.

The party had slept in a little later than usual due to their late-night activities the previous day, and after taking the time to dress and equip themselves, found they had missed the customary breakfast oats, its pot from the fire having been removed and replaced with a large vat of soup.

Despite the friendly atmosphere and promise of soon-to-be-ready warm food, Booker suggested the party retire to somewhere more private to discuss their next actions. The companions agreed and relocated to an area outside of town where Nixe lit a fire and caught a rabbit for lunch, a feat that Plymouth was particular impressed by.

After some discussion of the previous night’s events, and some serious evasion from Fitz on the subject of the origin of his magical powers, they eventually agreed to return to the ravine the following night to see if they could catch the changeling that they had witnessed.

This day however, they elected to investigate the blight that they had encountered twice in the last few days and ventured into the woods where, after some minor detours and a strained effort to climb a thirteen-foot cliff face, they discovered the sabre-toothed tiger from the day before.

The animal was wounded, dying despite Brandyr’s best efforts to draw the poison from its body. The dwarf surmised that had the wound been treated sooner, his magics would have cured the illness, but the infection was too far gone.

Nixe cast a spell and spoke with the beast, offering him peace. The creature called out and from the dark recesses of its cave, came a cub, no bigger than a housecat. Nixe explained that if the wounded animal turned, he would attack his child, so the father accepted his offer to end his pain. The cub was taken away and shielded while Nixe ended the creature’s life as painlessly as possible. Then, gathering up the cub and burning the infected carcass of the tiger, they headed back to Russet for the evening.

While Nixe secured some food for the cub from local trapper Combine Rostselmash, Brandyr took some time to talk with the innkeeper, Gantrant Lipsworthy. Having been vouched for by mine foreman Cleft Shallowide and town bureaucrat Gart Steakhammer, the people of the settlement had warmed to the party and, although Fitz and Nixe still got the occasional sideways glance, they had been accepted amongst the community as “Russet people”.

The following night, the party headed for the ravine and waited for the changeling. When he did not arrive the scoped out the area and found only the discarded belongings of Bertram Clyde; a knife, some money and an out-of-date work permit, in a leather satchel.

Finding themselves at a dead-end in their investigations, they whiled away the next few days with personal activities.

Fitz honed his skills with the spear by sparring with some locals. Then demonstrated his skills with the tankard by drinking with them.

Brandyr aided the people of town, treating the sick and healing the wounded who thanked him for his help and in turn extended their thanks to Berronar Trueseilver for sending him.

Plymouth spent his time exchanging folk tales with the locals. Most he had heard before, but one story about a siren like figure, luring travelers from the path leading to Vandorholme, was new to him.

Nixe cared for the sabre-toothed tiger cub, giving it food and milk. By the end of the second day, it was following him around freely.

And Booker went to work for the local smithy, Delroy Straightpeen, and offered encouraging words to his son Set, who did not share the same interest in blacksmithing that his father did.

One day, a man sets up a stall in the market selling an array of carved animal figurines for five gold pieces each. The party examined the trinkets and found them to be largely worthless. Despite this, Brandyr purchased a green “serpentine” owl figurine for a reduced rate. A dog statue appeared to be genuinely made of onyx, but the party managed to insult the seller with comments about the quality of his wares, so he packed up and left.

Zwatandag was a clear day. Warm even, by Russet standards. The queue outside the licensing office was shorter than usual, a sign that Gart was on top form that day. Delg and Wilf were making their usual preparations ahead of their journey to Rime the following day.

In the marketplace, Mark Ungart, the general store owner, put out his sign for the day, Bill Tong struggled with his awning as he sets up his cured meat stall and Delroy was instructing his son on the correct smelting temperatures of different metals, his son appearing to have a renewed interest in the work.

The day came and went like any other, but as night fell about the town, Booker noticed something block out the stars above for just a moment. Brandyr and Nixe caught a glimpse of what looked like a wing, and then they heard a sound, like rushing wind, getting louder and louder.

*BOOM!* A thunderous crash filled the air, drowning out all other sound. An extreme heat, unlike anything they had ever felt, hit the party like a wave. The Bureau of Licensing, which had been in plain sight at the end of the street, was gone. The wood erupted into flame and the metal melted before their eyes, dripping down onto scorched earth.

The ground shook and a shockwave rumbled all around. A sharp gust of warm air knocked the two scholars off their feet and all but extinguished the flaming ruins of the Bureau. Smoke billowed from the site that was once Gart’s office and in its place, sat a very large, very deadly, very Ancient looking Gold Dragon.

Next: Chapter Seven. Burning the Midnight Oil