"We're here on a scouting mission," explained Cynder.

The young man narrowed his eyes. "Who hired you?"

"We don't know," said the dragonborn. "Honest."

There was a drawn-out silence before the young man gestured to the group of bandits and they began untying the party. "Fine," he said. "Are you here to investigate the deaths?"

Black looked up with interest. "What deaths?"

"The deaths of the villagers, and the one city man. I knew they would send someone… they don't care about us, but when one of their own gets killed…" The young man paused. "Do you even know why you were sent here?"

Roy and Cynder exchanged glances. "How did they die?" asked Roy, trying to ignore the burning pain that was quickly spreading throughout his arm.

"Monsters. There are monsters living in the cave outside the village. If you're here to investigate the deaths, I'm here to help you. My name is Twile Nantuk." He motions to the ragtag group of bandits. "This is my crew."

"Nice to meet you," said Cynder.

Twile nodded. "I know the city folks think we're the murderers, but we're not. We're just pickpockets. And we wouldn't kill one of our own, let alone take ourselves out one by one. Whatever this thing is, it's been picking us off for months."

"What are they?" asked Black.

"Nobody knows," Twile answered. "Nobody has seen it – or them."

August looked to Roy urgently. "Do you have an antidote for filth fever anywhere in this village?"

Twile pointed to one of the houses. "That's the healer's hut. She'll know."

Cynder half-carried Roy to the healer's hut and knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal an old woman on the other side. She looked at Roy and said, "It's filth fever. Bring him inside."

The inside of the hut was dimly lit and heated by a small firepit in the center of the room. Cynder laid Roy down on a shabby-looking cot next to the firepit. The old woman had already set about, combining into a mixture various herbs that were strewn all about in all kinds of containers.

Twile entered, with Black and August behind him. They watched on in silence for a while, then Black asked, "Why is your crew all so young?"

The half-elf stared at the floorboards in silence for a moment, as if mulling over what to say. "Our parents were all killed when the purge came to our village. We were hit hard."

"They were demon worshippers?" asked August.

"No," said Twile quickly. "This village used to be a temple devoted to the four free gods: Corellon, Melora, Sehanine, and Avandra. We were killed just because our gods were gods other than Bahamut, not because our gods were demons. The free gods are neutral."

"I've seen it before," said Cynder. "It happened – all over the place. That's why I wouldn't participate in the war…"

"You deserted the temple of Bahamut?" asked Black.

Cynder nodded. August patted him on the back.

The healer by this time had concocted her ingredients into a potion. She offered it to Roy, who took it with both hands to steady himself and drank.

Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream split the air. The group rushed out the door, leaving Roy and trying to search out the source of the sound. Twile checked outside the village gate. "Over here!" he shouted, and August, Black, and Cynder followed.

They found Twile kneeling beside the prone form of a child, a puddle of red forming beneath the small body. The face had been bitten off.

"Dead," said Twile in frustration. "Another one."

#

It was already nightfall, and the group agreed to spend the night in the village. By morning, Roy was feeling much stronger. As thanks, they gave their owl to the village healer, then regrouped outside.

"I think it's time we take down whatever is in that cave," said Twile.

"We were hired only as scouts," said Black. "Our job is done. We could turn back now."

"The villagers need our help," said Cynder.

"Maybe we'll find treasure in the cave," offered Roy. "It might be worth our while after all."

August nodded. "I'm with Roy. We might find something worth way more than sixty gold."

With that, Black shrugged. "If you insist," he said. "Though, I still say we should take our sixty gold and go."

Twile led the group out and around to the side of the village, where they found a cave. There was a space carved out in the shape of an entrance, but it was blocked by a huge slab resembling a door. The door was covered in strange inscriptions.

As soon as he could make out the inscriptions, Cynder stopped short. "That's draconic," he whispered sharply. "Whatever's in there – it speaks draconic, that's for sure."

Twile stared hard at the door. "Oh no," he said. "If we have dragon problems –"

"I told you we should have taken our sixty gold," said Black. "It's not too late to turn back."

"Can you read the inscriptions?" asked Roy.

"Beware all those who enter the dragon's den," said Cynder, "All those who enter shall perish."

August turned to Twile. "The deaths only started a few months ago, right? That means the dragons inside must be young. Hatchlings. There are probably eggs in there, even."

"That's if mother dragon isn't home," said Cynder.

"Think of the treasure," replied August. "Even one piece –"

"I'm going in," said Twile. "I have to do this for my village. We need money if we're going to evacuate – as things are we can't afford to go to Fallcrest. I need that treasure. Now, I don't hear anything inside, so I doubt the mother dragon is in right now. If we hurry we can do this. How do we open the door?"

"It can only be opened by a dragon," said Cynder. He moved forward and touched the door with his claw. With an earth-shaking rumble, the door began to sink into the ground. "—Or a dragonborn."

Inside the cave there were several nests filled with gigantic eggs. Roy counted them: one, two… seven. Seven young dragons just waiting to hatch.

There were also piles of gold and gemstones. The horde was small for a dragon, but this nest was new, so that wasn't a surprise. Roy quickly grabbed a shiny sapphire and a handful of gold pieces; the others did the same, taking what they could carry.

Suddenly Roy heard a cracking sound. He whirled around just in time to see a hatchling white dragon break out of its shell. It poked its head through and stared at the group with yellow eyes.