Capitalization on the soaring giant of a bird amounted to some losses through the death of the lizard. Vigilantly and relentless on the recovery of the old human was futile, witnessing the departure of someone whom represented a pivotal position throughout the adventures thus far in this world turned unknown. Silence lingered in the area, burying the human near the site where laborious labor was applied towards harvesting the meat of the drake and now combat with the gargantuan scavenger seeking their prize.
The druids were tasked with procuring the significant portions off the winged carcass, though most perplexed was the emergence of another green person or goblin as I understood from Agdan. This one was drifting throughout the lands with bottles filled with liquids, later learned to be one of those volatile alchemist. With acknowledgment of the dangers ahead, though too trusting having a friendly face could not hurt in their adventure up to Stahlheim. Most devastating was grasping at the realization in which obtaining more meat was an aimless endeavor carrying off Flint’s packaged war lizard without much distress.
Distractions aside we reached the city of Stahlheim, bounteous gold secured through a financial institute with themselves after splitting the gold would only thrive. Returning back including communicating early by Dorek’s hawk that they were assaulted and…wishing I could omit this portion that some intellectual in Dwarven form tagged along. Greeting were fast and with our numbers sinewed again…we march ahead, For what its worth old man, your presence will be wished. Irritating and somewhat frail, yet competent at moments and tough to brave this trip at your age. Farewell, Royburt Peutarschmidt