The town of Oakhaven was exactly the kind of place Ignotus expected to find near a prestigious Academy: filled with overpriced food, rowdy taverns, and people looking to make quick coin off gullible students.
He navigated through the muddy streets, ignoring the merchants trying to sell him "enchanted" weapons, and pushed open the heavy oak door of [The Drunken Wyvern].
The inn smelled of ale, roasted garlic, and unwashed bodies, telling Ignotus that he was in the right place.
He quickly scanned the room, and it didn't take long to find them.
In the back corner, occupying a large round table that looked like it was groaning under the weight of food and drink, sat the Ironheads.
Gorm was laughing loudly, a tankard in one hand and a turkey leg in the other.
The three surviving mercenaries were looking cleaner than they had in days, though they still had that rough look, courtesy of their upbringing.
