*Eleth and Alyshia slip off to examine the village, taking advantage of the lengthening shadows of the afternoon. It takes them about an hour to quietly work their way to within listening distance of the edge of the village. Both are able to conceal themselves in trees to listen and lurk.*
*The place doesn't seem to be terribly big, not above two hundred at best. Situated at the forest's edge, they must mostly live by hunting and gathering, probably crafting as well. Both spots a blacksmith and a woodworker, as well as a tannery. In the center of the village is an enormous house made out of stone, intricately carved, with a thatched roof. Obviously it is five times as large as the town hall and tavern, and far more well made and in much better repair. The dragon's lair, of course. Even if he didn't spend much time here, it was required by law to have one ready at all times.*
*The people go about their business with the brisk efficiency of slaves, though they seem to be set in a routine rather than being constantly overseen like in the mines. You don't spot Zartalex, but you see a few humans that must be his progeny coming in and out of the town hall. Once a wyvern comes winging down with another half-dragon human on his back, carrying a roe dear in its talons. It's obvious that the wyvern stung it to death with its poisonous tail, making it deadly for the villagers to eat, but only mildly dangerous for the dragonspawn to eat. Their cast-adamantine stomaches can handle nearly anything.*
*Observing for a while, it seems there are four half-dragons, and two wyverns. The half-dragons seem to live in the town hall, whilst the wyverns live in what is essentially an oversized chicken coop built better than most of the villager's houses. Of Zartalex, you have seen neither scale nor talon. The people here are always in motion, rarely resting. They always have a task in their hands, all but the littlest babes. Children are set to sorting good berries from bad, or engaged in light cleaning tasks, while older siblings and parents take the bulk of the labor. You don't see many graybeards, but that's normal. Rare is the slave that dies of old age.*
*As you watch, you hear a faint sound of bells in the distance, and can see something coming down the road. There's a flash of blinding light, as it comes closer. It's a halfling caravan! The leader appears to be a halfing-half silver dragon with glittering scales and wings, and the wagons of his caravan are decorated with metallic paint and bells. The faces of the villagers break into smiles as they arrive, though they do not stop their tasks.*
*The caravan stops at the town hall, and the silver half-dragon goes in, while the other halfings begin to convert their wagons into stalls.*