While settling down around the camp, Mitchel was lost in thought about some of the conversation between himself and the elven woman.
'So, as long as I hold this title, it means one of my men ended up here with me. Guess I'm gonna have to start looking for them soon.'
Jess was still sitting down near Mitchel instead of setting up the campfire like the rest of the group, and that was likely because the Hell Hound was the equivalent of sitting on a large Hearth. English seemed to be an unknown language to the group, and across the group they collectively spoke Morden, Sylvish, Dorgen, and Unien.
With some explanation from Jess and Harry, Mitchel understood that the languages were; Morden: the language of humanity. Sylvish: the language of the Elves. Dorgen: the language of shorter races such as Dwarves and Gnomes. Unien: a universal language created when each of the races came together.
Jess stirred a bit as she felt a warmth emanating from her satchel, and after would withdraw the same silver plate that was called a "Messenger Plaque". Whistling again, she waved at the other three members of her party while holding up her plaque in the other hand.
"We got a response from the guild. Hurry up so we can figure out what to do next!"
Mitchel was naturally curious of what the plaque said as well, although he couldn't read what was on the small silver square.
As they each gathered around, they were drawn to sitting next to and around Jess while she read it out loud.
"This references you as well." Jess said while pointing towards Mitchel. "Congratulations on completing the dungeon, and we apologize for any mislabeling on the dungeon's difficulty. We will be sending a new party in the next week so that we may re-evaluate the estimated difficulty. Should the rating of the dungeon be increased from the last estimation your party will be compensated and given additional rewards in the form of counting this dungeon clear twice for being above your party's rank. As for the report mentioning a Hell Hound clan in the Emerald lands. Please be advised that an investigation group is being dispatched under high priority. Please avoid direct contact with any possible Clan Heads and return to the Guild Hall. If you have already made contact, be advised that the guild will not protect any party members that instigate hostile interactions. However, should you be able to establish positive relations the guild master herself is willing to make direct contact with any amicable clan members."
The other three party members appeared enthusiastic about the message because of the praise and possible bonuses related to their encounter. Although Jess and Mitchel weren't as enthusiastic. Mitchel was not looking forward to struggling to communicate with someone that likely held some fancy title and position. While Jess wasn't sure why the Guild Master would be so interested in meeting a Hell Hound clan.
The group was gathering together around the center of the camp while pulling out various items. A couple of wine bottles, a slab of raw meat that was wrapped up in paper, and a large orange bottle about the size of the mace the dwarf wielded.
Mitchel followed the group to the center of their little camp and watched as they started fervently preparing tankards of the wine, and the largest T-bone steak he had ever seen. The next half hour was full of revelry from the four adventurers, and Mitchel could only watch them since he couldn't speak any languages that they could understand.
Jack pulled out a deck of playing cards, Harry was eating his steak while already half unconscious, Bearrit was speaking about something to the rest of the group, mostly towards Mitchel, and Jess was currently trying her best to not jump into Mitchel's fur that radiated a comforting warmth and looked incredibly soft to her intoxicated mind.
The night was only just starting, and barely thirty minutes into their celebration they were already finishing off the amazing smelling steak. Though Bearrit also shared the massive bone with Mitchel before continuing the card game with Jack. Jess was still working up the nerve to touch the fur of a fire based creature, and Harry was already blacked out.
'Guess this guy is probably a light weight on his drinks. Probably gonna feel that headache in the morning too with him laying on the ground.'
Mitchel laid himself down to rest as well as the moon rose high into the night sky, and it was at this point he discovered the moon was not pale silver or white. The moon above was instead orange, and was covered in a series of blue and green splotches.
Passing into unconsciousness, Mitchel would sleep out the night undisturbed. With the coming of morning also came the light waking him with the coming dawn. A surprise waiting for him was that Jess was comfortably laying up against his side in the bend between his front leg and neck.
Looking around the camp, he was greeted by the bonfire now burnt out, Jack's cards were spread out across the small box where they had been left the prior night, Harry was softly groaning as he was slowly waking up in regret from the drinking of last night, and Bearrit was halfway into his tent laying just under the flap of it's entrance.
However, his ears were drawn to a sound coming from nearby, a series of fast moving footsteps and what sounded like quite a few of them as well. The party was slowly waking up from the constant noise that was escalating from the approaching footsteps traveling through the underbrush and foliage towards the camp.
As for Mitchel, he was completely awake and looking in the direction of a large group of people, a few leading the group into the clearing were wearing what looked like scouting gear. After them came a few more heavily armored individuals, and then a couple groups of five that were both wearing matching uniforms.
The very last person to enter the clearing was a woman in scale mail looking around the camp, and then towards Mitchel, who was still sitting in the center of the camp.