Two wood elves, a man and a woman, wear colorful robes embroidered with a matching emblem: a winged egg.
Apart from their clothing, they couldn't be more different. She folds her arms and continually scowls at the broken walls around them. He, on the other hand, mutters prayers, his shade-dappled face as tranquil as a cloudless sky. He and Onŵen are consorts, though the recent events have strained their relationship a bit. In particular Casfath's apparent reluctance to send in the Fangs, which, in truth, is merely prudence: A large group would get stuck and burned to a crisp, while a hardened band of adventurers would stand a better chance of surviving long enough to kill the dragon.