As it turned out, Dorisma was in fact trailing us quietly. She was somehow subtle for a giant ogre. "Oh, apologies! I thought you were a while back, Dorsima." Wasting no time, I moved on ahead with Trey as he flew over objects that stood in our way. We were after all in the stronghold, where things got more cramped what with the dragons taking up so much space, and the inflow of refugees just making things more crowded. Seemed as if we all looked out of place as shanty-towns took up any available space (we Kobold (I still consider myself one (I know it's strange when I'm physically a Drake, but you realise I wasn't always like this (I wonder how many brackets I can use)) no matter how others think) aren't known to be master craftsmen, what with being nomads and all) beside majestic marble buildings, drawing the ire of the local Drake population who spent years here away from their ancestral enemies.

One spot in particular struck me out - two buildings of same size built beside each other, one being an elegantly carved marble inn filled with stylish Drake patrons, right next to a hastily-assembled Kobold pub that seemed to be brewing its own alcohol- a stark contrast when it came to our cultures. It was interesting to see the rather drunken insults being thrown around, such as 'go back to being begging nomads' and 'traitors to the draconian line.'

Er, let me get back to the story. World-building's always a long pain in the arse, but someone's gotta do it. Trust me, nothing's better than mixing fantasy with realism. Anyway, we stumbled across the petrified statue earlier. Looking at it gave me chills, and I intended to move forwards just to be safe. I admittedly got jealous of the fact that Trey could just avoid all the stupid obstacles in his way, while Dorisma and I had to brush past numerous drunken mobs, carts and dragon legs. It was certainly painful and bruising to run over malformed paths and rubble paths, while also crossing through lines of busy walkways and commotions. We could hear the voices of our party over the busy sprawl, and sooner than later we reached an enclosed area surrounded by wooden shacks. Briefly skidding on the paths, there we spotted Trey reuniting with the group, casting a shadow on the figure on the floor.

"There you are lads! What's all this then?" Whilst we apparently found the egg, we also had an unarmed troll on the floor. He certainly looked mad with bloodshot eyes though, upon moving closer to the group and noting the pungent smell of wine. Everyone seemed to crowd around him whilst Deravan (or someone else, I only made a guess) swiped the egg of him and left him in the dirt. I was annoyed that we had to spend roughly a month- I mean half a day looking for an egg, but at least we'd probably get some award out of this. Weapons? Family heirloom? Money? First two I can sell for money, depending who's around in the black market. I know an ogre who's willing to swap his (spare) golden teeth for an intricate dagger. Don't ask how I know this.

So then, we wandered outside the enclosure and made it out into sunlight, though longer shadows meant a degree of time had passed. "Okay, so we have to return the egg now without breaking it. Then we go check up on our gear and investigate the prog ress of the dust." Whilst saying that, I saw a child ogre behind us (roughly the size of myself) throwing a nasty punch into another ogre and knocking him down, apparently as 'play-fighting.' I brushed it off with a sore expression and decided not to remark on it, as to avoid offending Dorisma. (In fact, just narrating about it might've insulted her; I hope she can't read this.) I slipped my hand into my pocket and brushed the cold handles of my knives, noting their existence while the group and I went ahead to turn in our quest. A pretty boring one at that.