As fitted as he was in the suit of new armor, it now joining alongside the well-worn cloth and leather that too found itself part of his apparel, the outlander, outsider, and now hero moved slightly as the man crossed his arms. One palm laid upon the upper mass of the arm just below the shoulder, it clenched tighter as the monk's dialogue evolved and elaborated. All of the green-cloak warrior seemed to seethe slightly at recollection of the enemy, although that might well have been the ambiance that had grown increasingly strong with the man's ties to nature's unnatural power. The other hand, previously unoccupied, now calmly toyed with the snarling silver medallion that hung from Brannor's neck; a scar among lining his flesh where divine grant quite literally turned a killing blow aside.

His amber eyes narrowed further in deepening thought, although a certain streak of pleasure welled up in him. If the enemy was to use said cave for rearing dragons, it meant it was difficult for them to move. The cult would be mostly static game, the sort of thing they could press and harry by exerting the slightest of force, one compensated for by numbers only. The monk revealed nothing about if there were more of them to come, but the history he portrayed from where he sat made it plain that others had come to the outskirts of Greenest to establish this camp. Just as they were novices before, it was clear they were novices now and expanded right into the town, sacking it for their lair. Had they stayed as covert as possible and ignored the farmers and the farmland, who knows what they could have accomplished? Now they were being forced to show themselves.

Brannor's stupor broke as he audibly sighed, finger so faintly tapping his breastplate. There was nothing to be gained on dwelling about the events that could have been, rather only the gifts they had been given unknowingly by their enemy and carried in secret by the monk back to this very room.

"And when you say "dragons" just how many do you believe?" The man's voice piqued with interest, as the hunter knew he and the others could well kill whelps and lesser scaled-ones, but the greater and more numerous they were, the more difficult or perhaps erring toward impossible would such a quest be.

[@Hekazu][@Gordian Nought][@Ryonara][@Lucius Cypher][@Norschtalen]