Things were seemingly peaceful in the ruins of Black Scale Hold. The robed barbarian looked down at the large tall stone that he had almost two years ago tucked into the ground, his father burried under the very earth he stood on. He stood there in silence, looking down half into space, half thinking of the events that took place. There were half-burried skeletons all around the town, no one he knew could be found, or even their bodies; all of the features having been taken away by the birds and the earth and the worms. He again shifted into a wolf, padding down to the town square where he had earlier looked for the corpse of Creedon, or perhaps, for satisfaction, the corpse of the green-skin general; Riz'yan. He had missed it before, but now he clearly saw the two dead mounts, and the one corpse by it. Strangely however, Creedon's sword was nowhere in sight, and he didn't believe it was taken by a green skin... He ran over on all fours to the corpse and in anger dug him a hole, pulling the skeleton into itwith his wolf form's jaws. Satisfied that he had paid some respect and perhaps peace to the great black dragon general, he turned about, and looked around in the trees, listening to the birds.