Novid City, a residence near the edge of the city wall.
The house wasn't new, but it was quiet and spacious, and there was even a patch of stone pavement in the yard that had been warmed by the sun.
For the semi-retired Silver Thorn Squad, this already felt more like a home than any inn they'd stayed in over the past decades.
On the stone pavement, Gall was doing deep squats with two bundles of cast-iron weights on his shoulders.
Sweat slid down the scales at his neck; the Half-dragon's thick tail dragged behind him, thumping the ground in time with his movements, making a dull "thump, thump" sound.
In the corner, a mass of shadow writhed silently.
The next second, Night Owl stepped out of that shadow, the Elf carrying several breakfasts wrapped in oiled paper in his hand.
With a casual flick, he sent one of them flying toward Gall.
