At evening tide, Haanta dutifully went hunting for blackened dragonscales, as her guild contribution. Stepping through soot and ground obsidian glass phased her none, her own hide toughened and battle-scarred. But this scene of carnage shook her: a gruesome encounter with dragons, feasting on the bodies of Doyle Gryphon Riders and their faithful mounts. She bid Tora to her side, kneeling over one fallen dwarf. Tora obeyed commands of “leave it.” She said a prayer to ease his passing, resolved to slay the dragons and dragonkin. All the dragons’ blood would never bring them back, but no more would fall.