I shuddered at the thought of returning. I know there were some Kobold who didn't exactly... tolerate Drakes; returning would probably end with me at the end of a noose. It was either condemning myself to exile or risk being killed.

[i]Eh. I'll take my chances.[/i] I watched as the mayor stepped into the cave with two of his guards flanking him. He had apparently just arrived and was willing to move the village down in this cave, as well offering medical support for the wounded in our party. He looked around to inspect the aftermath of the battle before walking back to where he came from, orders echoing around the cave as it went from a dark void to a bustling camp. I did feel as if I was being eyed by several Kobold all around the camp, wondering why an old enemy was in their marked territory - at the very least they'd think of me as an devious banker, based on my clothes. Wooden carts and the sounds of fires roared in the cave, having nowhere to go. Meat on spits were common while a few caught birds were also cooked, as if this village was starting to run out of supplies already. Shadows congregated on the walls and provided stark contrast to the lights of our camp. And I still didn't give a damn about all of that, still seeking to make some sort of profit.

Now probably wouldn't be a good time though. Everyone was busy thinking about their next step, where they'd go. Maybe a rogue dragon would stomp on them, or an army of humans would ambush them. Even mere bandits threatened the safety of everyone around here. I just sighed and decided to take a seat on a large rounded boulder, propping my chin up with my arm. It was a pretty tough day, and was already starting to get to evening by the looks of the orange lights of the entrance. I looked from left to right at the camp, noting how the noises of laughter and drinking was beginning to die down, but mainly to look for anyone that was going to shank me or something. You never know, after all.