Lander noticed the man and his dog enter the inn and something feral flared up inside him as he watched the man casually stroll over to a table where two other men were sitting. He almost emmited a low, wolf-like growl despite himself.

When the newcomer and the other started speaking in raised voices, Lander's right hand immediately went to one of the pistols in its holster, but he didn't interfere in what was going on. Experience had taught him not to get involved in another person's business, or you might find yourself on the wrong end of this kind of business transaction.

Then the man at the table emitted a long cry and suddenly the man become much more tall and imposing, dressed in all black, and at his side was not a dog but what looked like the kind of dragons Lander had heard of in fantasy stories.

There was a scuffle, something happened, and both the man and his dragon disappeared. The man who was attacked was bleeding from the arm, and a few people rushed to help him, while several more of the inn patrons were staring, some of them getting up to leave rather quickly.

When the wounded man finished speaking, Lander walked over to the table. "I've seen a man get his arm bitten clean off, that way. You're lucky. I suspect you probably know more about what that was about than most of these people here do. What the hell is this place, and what is the orb?"