There was little that Brannor proved to dwell on in the response. It was, regretfully, less than he had hoped as knowing just how many might suggest a better method to destroying the clutch than the obvious. That too posed an obvious issue, a question so simple it seemed almost foolish to ask, but up until recently presumably none had ever even seen a dragon. That question specifically? What did it take to destroy one of their eggs? Was it so simple as just a barrage of steel and spell, much like it had been when the mature dragon that assaulted the keep and laid waste to many of its defenders was driven off through immense effort? Or would it be a matter that was... time consuming in volume only, anything and everything capable of destroying the meager shell.

In the mean time the elven priestess spoke up, Shepard posing the more important question of how to return to the cave so that the eggs might even be handled. It was indeed very, very unlikely that their troupe would be able to so much as edge their way in covertly now; the enemy would surely be wary of anything and everything for at least weeks to come, expecting an attack as this. Unlike the world outside which held threats potentially around every corner, under every bush, and every stretch of sky, mortals were quick and become riled and roused. Perhaps for good reason, but they handled it poorly; it would be something that would be exploitable. Breaking their dark spirit by continually harassing and harrying them.

Yet as was made increasingly clear, the unusual band of fellows now set against this draconic cult were the only ones capable of doing anything whatsoever about it. Which only proved to tug at the lips of the moontouched, brow falling as well into a subdued frown. Hand removed from his talisman, he stepped to beside the cleric, lingering gaze over her then back to Leosin, "And how might one kill a dragon and its clutch?"

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