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By the time we had recovered enough to attempt a return visit, we had been joined by a pair of warriors. It seems our fame was growing, and with it the number of brave souls attracted to our banner.
One was a dwarven Hammerman named Mondark Kingtorches, the other a proud tigerman swordsman named Drakolus Bravedrealm.
Mondark wanted fame and glory, while Drakolus, who would have undoubtedly enjoyed these, professed he just wanted to kill some lizards.
Needing everyone we could get, we let them join us.
Before going in, of course, I told them to watch themselves. This was revenge for the fallen after all, and we didn't need to offer them our own lives in the process. As it turns out, however, he was waiting for us.
Clearly he expected us diminished, without new warriors, because we managed to destroy the defence he had rallied against us with relative ease.
That marked the end of our jobs in Growlmachines. With nothing more keeping us there, we headed east to the isolated town of Trampledsandles.