By the time Rus and his party reached the Scorpion's Nest, night had fully fallen.
No sooner had they entered the main hall than a blizzard began to howl outside. Wind slammed against the doors, circling the fortress like a chorus of witches chanting in unison.
But the storm did little to invigorate the weary soldiers of the Eagle Regiment. They dragged themselves through the gates and collapsed where they could find space, sprawled across the floor without even pausing for dinner, quickly drifting into sleep.
"Get the pot going," Rus yawned. "Boil up whatever you can find in the Scorpion's Nest kitchen. Make sure there's food ready when they wake up, or we'll have a company of starving men on our hands."
The Scorpion's Nest had been thoroughly cleared. The bandits who once held it had either fled or been slain. Even the two notorious leaders, Redbeard and Steeltooth, had slipped away.
After the constant battles, things were finally calm—at least for now.
