We were horrified and saddened upon our entry into Artoxon’s capital. The main gate was unguarded. No one was about. I had a fleeting thought that this explained why we had not encountered any dwarf guides out on the Low-way, but then more serious considerations came crashing in.
The further we went into the city the more the stench of burnt dwarf grew in pungency. Though, the fires were now out and not even smoldering.
Rumble and Dunfallon tried five different streets before finding one that was unblocked and could take us to Bifitz’s palace.
Its untouched state raised our hopes that someone within may still be alive.
This time we were challenged by a coterie of dwarves who were soon joined by an angry Bifitz. The ancient goblin railed against us – making nonstop accusations, blaming us for all that had befallen them.
Noralei gently rose into the air and commanded him to be silent and to listen- and proclaimed that we all were yet in danger.
Bifitz did fall silent and I seized the opportunity to warn him that we needed to descend to Artoxon’s apartments or greater calamity may engulf us.
The tired and spent goblin relented and allowed us entry.