DTC, WIP

[dens_extra_pups]

Heatwave frowned as he watched the robe and 'Dreadbone chain mail' (whatever that was) clad figure of Den the Snarky head off in a different direction than the rest of the troops under Chromia's command. Turning to his new commander, he jerked his head in the direction Den The Snarky was heading, asking wordlessly if he should follow after her. Chromia glanced after the pale Necromancer before shaking her head and shouting over the wind.

"Naw. Den'll be fahn. She knows wh't she's doin, 'n 's used t' goin' solo."

---

That had been nearly a day and a half ago. Nobody had seen the Necromancer since. Heatwave scowled as he leaned against the outer wall of the tavern and watched people come and go. Den F. had, apparently, finally recovered enough strength for short jaunts to the Skyclaw Ridge Mountains, as she was returning from that direction with a fairly good haul of loot and gold.