
A single lantern flared to life atop the fort wall, and I could just make out a quiet conversation of alarm above the whispering of the wind in the trees. Dark shapes of men moved about on the battlements.
I approached, my axe on my shoulder and my other hand free and held up in what I hoped was a gesture of peace. “My name is Eske,” I shouted in the tongue of the Dragon Temple. Some of the men in the town could understand me, and if I was right, some of these men would, as well. “I want to speak to your leader.”
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