Having secured the facility and ascertained all intelligence that they could, the small detachment set off back to the town of Southshore. They trundled through the winding passageways and out into the bright light of the mid-afternoon sun, with their captive blindfolded and clapped in irons. They made their way south through the trees with the mist lifting slowly, letting the light shine warmly on their backs. In no time at all the merry band of warriors, bowmen and mages were back in the safety of the small Alliance outpost. They presented their findings to the magistrate, were debriefed on the situation (Nothing major had been found yet, only jumbled numbers, letters and codes on unmarked documents) and quickly dismissed. However, Marshal Redpath, Captain Tavers and the four adventurers had business to attend to. Namely the brute they had tied up round the back of the town hall.

"Who paid you?! Who's your employer! Speak you Bastard!" Roared Tavers, grabbing the Stoneraven by his collar and slamming him into the back wall of The Southshore Arms. The brute remained silent, presenting a strong front.
"Explain yourself, damn you!" Snarled the captain. He began to violently express himself towards the captive, until his commanding officer stepped in to intervene.
"Captain-Captain!" Yelled Marshal Redpath, tearing the captain off the prisoner.
"Sorry sir... I'm sorry." Panted Tavers, firing a threatening glare towards the brute. The marshal calmly put the blindfold back on the Stoneraven then sat him down with his hands on his head.
"Private, keep an eye on this man." He ordered, whilst leading the Captain, along with the 4 others, inside the inn.
"Will do, sir." Replied the polearm-toting guard.

The group made their way inside the warm, cosy inn and sat down at a small round table.
"So, lads, fancy a drink while you chew this one over?" Smiled Belmin.
"No thank you." Replied the elf.
"Yes, not for me, Mr Hammerbrand." Agreed the Marshal.
"Well, I would say I hope you don't mind if I have one, but we all know that's not the case." Laughed the dwarf, heading off to the bar. Tavers sighed noisily and began to voice his opinion.
"Damn his eyes, Redpath, damn him! Does he have any idea who he is playing with?" Growled Tavers.
"Calm down, Captain, calm." Said the Marshall, easing his comrade. The whiskered soldier sat back down and paid heed to his commander's word. The Marshall then turned to Codin and his compatriots.
"So, gentlemen." Said Redpath. "We have everything we need out of this deal. We have security in the foothills once more, and the horde in Tarren Mill no longer have the support of the Stoneravens, for now. But what kind of hosts would we be if we left you boys out of the deal?"
"Pretty shoddy ones, to be honest." Smirked Codin. The gnome giggled. The elf stayed silent.
"Indeed. So, we're going to do everything in our power to help you. But, as Captain Tavers has just demonstrated, that might not be easy. So, do we have any suggestions?" Blushed the Marshall, embarrassed at the lack of helpful intelligence his men had acquired.
"Well, umm..." Sighed the Warrior, scratching his beard.
"Yes, uhh..." Moaned Hwinion, sitting back and retreating back into thought. The group fell into silence as they began to search for answers.
It was then Belmin made his 'graceful' appearance back at the table, with a horn of dwarvern stout in his hand and a lit pipe in the other.

"So then, what's going on here?" Asked the mountaineer, plonking himself down on the spare seat.
"We're busy devising a plan to get some information out of that behemoth outside, dear Belmin." Stated Fizzbiscuit, slightly embarrassed at his colleague's less than subtle entrance.
"Oh, is that it? Here, hold this." Said the dwarf, taking a swig of his drink and a puff of his pipe before handing both to the elf.
"I'll be back in a jiffy."

The dwarf headed outside and round the back of the inn, whilst the rest of the group remained quietly sitting.
"You've been relieved lad, go on, off you go." Stated Belmin, gesturing towards the road with his thumb as he approached the young guard.
"But sir, the Marshall said-" Replied the nervous private.
"Never mind him laddie, now go on."
"Sir..."
The guard departed and left the dwarf alone with the brute. Inside the inn, through the thick wooden wall, the group could hear the dull hum of Belmin's voice.
"So, laddie, you and I are gonna have a wee little talk, and you're going to tell me all you know. Every...wee...thing." Drifted the dwarf's voice.
"Drop dead, dwarf. I'll never talk." Spat the Stoneraven.
"Oh, we'll see about that."
The inn fell silent for a moment or two, before a dull screaming was heard outside.
"No, no! Gods, no!" Yelled a muffled voice.
"Sit still pal, or this can get a lot worse." Replied the recognisable bark of Hammerbrand.
"Okay, okay, OKAY."

After no time at all, the dwarf returned, sat down and took another swig of his stout like nothing had ever happened. The others stared at him with somewhat horrified looks on their faces. Codin broke the silence.
"So? Anything?" He asked.
"The head operation is holed up in Northrend, Grizzly Hills. That's all he knew. It was all gibberish after that blacksmith's furnace poker came into play." Replied the dwarf.
"Northrend?" Gulped Codin.
"Northrend?" Gasped Fizzbiscuit.
"Northrend?" Asked Hwinion, sitting up straight in his seat.
"Northrend." Confirmed Belmin. The 4 intrepid adventurers all looked at each other nervously. The two guards even more so.
"Well, in that case... I'll take that drink now, please."
"Hahaha, that's the spirit!"