After the violent action of the previous minutes, an eerie calm settled over the stone dragon hall. Bits of Tazok's jellified face oozed slowly across the floor and they all, Firkraag included, edged away from it toward the stairs. Rasaad seemed dazed by his own actions, but nobody was paying him much attention anymore. All eyes were on Viconia.
"So…" Firkraag began, his tone far more pleasant. "You are the Servant of all Faiths after all. Apologies for letting Tazok break your legs and all that, but I had to check."
"That's right, I am!" Viconia howled shrilly. "You cannot kill me!"
"Kill you?" Firkraag scoffed, so loudly that his voice echoed around the hall. Dozens of scaly stone faces leered down at them, as though his statues were mocking them. "Obviously I do not wish to kill the Servant of all Faiths. I am not suicidal!"
Viconia was never one for false modesty (nor indeed real modesty, even when the situation called for it). She stood proudly, red eyes flashing and long white hair streaming behind her in a most dramatic fashion. The grovelling and cowering of a moment before were already forgotten.
"It would be suicide to oppose me! The gods themselves will smite you if you try!"
"Possibly, judging by what just happened to Tazok. Though what I actually meant was that I would not want to destroy you even if I could," the dragon chuckled, releasing little wisps of smoke. "Great heavens. You are the Servant of all Faiths, but you don't have the faintest idea what that means, do you?"
"I do!" Viconia sniffed defiantly. "I am destined to prevent the Great Evil from sacking one of my people's magnificent cities in the Underdark. The demon lord Ur-Gothoz revealed his plan to Arowan!"
Firkraag seemed to find this exceedingly funny. As he crossed the room chuckling to himself, his snake-like tail was practically wagging. He lifted the fallen statue of his evil goddess and returned her reverently to her plinth. Her five wicked little heads seemed to stare down at where Tazok lay dead.
"One city?" he mocked them, once his laughter subsided. "What stupid creatures you red-bloods are. Do you really imagine that every god in the pantheon would intervene for one mortal city? No. The Great Evil, as you so ironically call it, will seek to cull a full third of Faerun's population. Myself included. Hence why I am letting you go."
Letting them go! Yoshimo did not need to wait to hear that offer twice, and was already halfway to the stairs when Jaheira stuck her staff out and tripped him up. When he realised that the rest of the party were not going anywhere, he sat down resignedly on the bottom stair. It was cold and uncomfortable, and he eyed the exit longingly.
"Why is it ironic to call a genocidal demon the Great Evil?" Jaheira demanded. "Sounds like the perfect title to me!"
"So the 'Great Evil' is demonic in nature is it?" the dragon echoed, drumming his claws on the floor. "Ur-Gothoz,you say? That part I did not know. Makes sense I suppose. Well, no harm in trading some of your information for some of mine." He studied the party closely, his eyes lingering particularly on their would-be paladin and the Sun Soul monk. He seemed to be evaluating what to tell them. "I am not sure these two will continue to aid the Chosen One if I explain the ironic part of your statement, but then, you are a Harper are you not?"
Jaheira looked taken aback. Clearly the dragon had some previous dealings with Harpers, if he was so bent on revenging himself on Gorion. She had a distant recollection of the mage's victory against a red dragon. The fact that he recognized her an knew that she was a Harper, however, was disconcerting.
"Some dragons hoard diamonds and pearls, I hoard information," Firkraag said in a low voice. "It is a far more valuable treasure and serves me better in a world of warriors who would make their armour from my hide. Yes, I know you are a Harper. As such, you can explain to these fools the importance of the balance."
There was a sound of rushing air, followed by a loud pop. The dragon was shrinking down very rapidly, his scales and fangs receding. In his place stood a handsome young man with striking red hair and amber eyes. He wore the clothes of a noble, covered by a red velvet doublet. An ornamental rapier swung by his side and his hands were adorned with enchanted rings.
In his lower form he was very handsome, and Arowan wondered if he was considered a looker by dragon standards. What would girl dragons go for? Shiny scales? Manicured talons? Great big horns? Strange, the random thoughts that float through people's heads under stress. Human-Firkraag was eyeing Tazok's sludge-like head and wrinkling his nose.
"Let us talk somewhere else, shall we?" he suggested.
He led them upstairs to Tazok's room, where Garren's child was cowering in one of the cells. The battle cries and screaming must have been audible from here. With a disgusted grunt, Firkraag slipped a ring of keys from under the ogre's pillow and opened the cage. Then he hollered for his servants and handed the kid to the wolfweres with instructions to take him home unmolested.
That taken care of, he settled into Tazok's chair as though it were a throne, and bid them sit at his feet. It was galling to crowd around him as though he were some benevolent guru addressing his students. On the other hand, they were all rather tired and it was a relief to park their bottoms onto velvet cushions, so they went with it.
"It is ironic to refer to the coming calamity as the 'Great Evil,' because it is those of us of evil alignment who are to be culled," Firkraag told them. "All of us."
At once Anomen leapt to his feet, causing the dragon to mutter 'predictable' and drum his fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair. He surveyed the angry cleric with contemptuous amber eyes, as he pulled off his helmet and threw it at the wall in temper.
"I should have known better than to defend a drow!" he bellowed. "I have been duped into serving darkness! This realm is to be blessed with a purge of all evil and I was fighting against it? No wonder the Order rejected me."
Viconia recoiled and turned to Rasaad with huge pleading eyes. Yet she found the monk looking at her in a disturbingly familiar way. It was the same expression with which he had stared at Tazok, moments before pummelling his head into the floor.
"Rasaad…" she begged.
"Get away from me snake! Servant of Shar!" Rasaad cried. "Anomen is right. You defend evil, and we defend you. What does that make us?"
"Idiots?" Firkraag suggested.
He half-smiled and shook his head at Jaheira as if to say; you see? They let the two men storm and vent for a minute or so, while Viconia looked scared and Jaheira thoughtful. Yoshimo kept glancing at the door. His main priority was still to make it out of his lair alive and he did not share the rest of the party's confidence that they would. After all, it was really only Viconia who needed to survive.
"Yes, just the childish reaction I expected," Firkraag sneered, leaning forward in his chair and clapping sardonically. "I had you two marked down as fools. You think the simultaneous destruction of all those of evil alignment will hail the dawn of some sort of golden age? Would you like to explain the problem with that plan, Harper, or shall I?"
The druid turned to Rasaad and Anomen with a troubled expression. Despite both her druid class and her allegiance to the Harpers dictating that she ought to be neutral, she had always leaned toward the good. At first the idea of no more evil sounded very appealing. Yet the consequences were too horrific to bear thinking about.
"The balance must be preserved!" Jaheira said. "Your own goddess, Selune, and your god Helm chose Viconia too. Stop for a moment and think about what would really happen if every sentient creature of evil alignment were to perish all at once!"
"It would be the end of Alorgoth," Rasaad muttered darkly.
"Firkraag's right, you really are a moron," snapped Arowan. She was the only one in the party who was not entirely surprised by their host's revelation. In the horrific visions of mass slaughter that Ur-Gothoz had shown her, every execution had started with Anomen casting Know Alignment. Those who did not glow red had been permitted to run. Those of the wrong alignment were butchered in cold blood, even one of the elves who had been fighting on Dorn's side.
Why the evil Blackguard himself was not among the targets was simple enough to explain. The demons were orchestrating this, and Dorn served the demons.
"You think Rasaad is a moron do you?" Anomen asked her haughtily. "Very well. What profound words of wisdom will our illiterate ranger bless us with this day?"
"Just because someone is evil doesn't mean that nobody loves them," Arowan said through clenched teeth. "Even if they thoroughly deserve death, what about their mothers, their fathers and their brothers and sisters? Do they deserve to have their lives ruined by grief? And if that doesn't sway you, ponder this. If a third of the adult population die, what will happen to their children?"
"They'd be orphans. Like me," Rasaad admitted. "More numerous than the survivors could cope with. Those children would perish by the thousands."
"Hundreds of thousands," corrected Firkraag.
"Who brings in the harvest when there aren't enough farmhands left?" nodded Jaheira. "Who chops the firewood and catches the fish? It takes time to reorganize and replace that many workers. In the meantime, people go hungry. Basic resources would be scarce but the dead men's lands and riches plentiful. Faced with such a combination of threat and temptation you'd find the alignment of the survivors quick to change. The world would not stay evil-free for long."
"It would not be evil free at all. Only the sentient will die, not the beasts. The drow; gone. Illithids; gone. Beholders; gone. Sahuagin; gone," threatened Firkraag. "You may not like their kind or appreciate their customs, but it is they who keep the mindless monsters that lurk beneath the earth and sea in check."
"And the demons," Arowan said quietly. Her mind was on Ur-Gothoz. "Good and evil soldiers died side-by-side protecting our world in the Dragonspear Wars. How much simpler it would be to invade the prime when a third of its defenders are dead, and the rest have their hands full just trying to survive!"
Rasaad's brow knotted and Anomen began to pace agitatedly. They looked at Viconia and then at each other. They thought about the real consequences of murder on an unfathomable scale. First the monk and then the cleric slowly sat back down again.
"None of the gods want this," Firkraag said. "Or at least the few who do are too heavily outnumbered to matter. The evil gods will lose all of their followers. The good deities cannot stand by and watch the hundreds of thousands of innocents who will starve or fall prey to monsters in the aftermath. Meanwhile those powers of neutral alignment fear the chaos which will fill the power vacuum left behind."
"So they chose a champion," Arowan said grimly. This revelation had not shaken her determination to help Viconia in the slightest. On the contrary, it had strengthened it. Not only one city obliterated, but hundreds of them. Death beyond imagining. Life was sacred and it was the duty of every Ilmatari to prevent the cull from coming to pass. Even if it weren't, she would still fight it with her last breath. "So they chose you."
Everyone looked at Viconia, who for once was letting her vulnerability show on her face. She knew now that it was only through the repeated intervention of the gods that she had even kept herself alive, never mind anyone else. Saving one city had seemed feasible, but to oppose an enemy capable of annihilating a third of the world's population?
"I… I'm not sure I can do this," she quavered.
"Chin up Viconia. If you fail it's not the end of the world," Arowan said bracingly, patting her on the back. "…oh wait. No, scratch that. I guess it kind of is. At least the world as we know it."
"Odious rivvil," the drow mumbled, returning to regular insults. Slapping down an enemy seemed to revive a little of her normal hubris however, and she demanded of Firkraag, "Why me?"
The dragon swung his legs idly over the arm of the chair and made an impatient little noise. Servant of all Faiths or not, he still held mortals in contempt.
"Do not presume to bore me with imbecilic questions," he snorted. "How could I possibly know why you, when I didn't even know that it was you until a few minutes ago. You've had more time to think about this, so you tell me. Why do you think the gods chose you?"
Viconia had no ready answer to this question and the dragon snickered again.
"You seem awfully complacent about all this, Firkraag," Arowan observed. "If she fails, you'll die. Doesn't that bother you?"
Firkraag shrugged his shoulders and stretched out luxuriantly in the chair, letting his red hair spill down the cushions. When he yawned they got a good view of his teeth. Though brilliant white, they still had a certain fang-like quality. Then there were those vivid amber eyes. It was no wonder he had such an easy time replacing his followers. He could rival Freya in the charisma department.
"Not especially," he replied, indifferently. "Existential threats to our world crop up all the time. Most recently Caelar Argent's forces attempted to open up hell. The Red Wizards of Thay are messing around with wild mage brains in a manner that has the potential to go very wrong, and did I hear you mention Alorgoth before? I believe that he is scheming to flood the world with beings from the Shadow Plane in the not too distant future."
Rasaad's head jerked up.
"What do you know of Alorgoth?" he demanded.
Firkraag swung his legs down with a clunk and peered into Rasaad's face. He wore a superior expression and was being as patronizing as a wizard addressing a test-monkey.
"I know a great deal about a great many things, human. As I mentioned before, information is my hoard. Potential apocalypses happen every few years, it is a hazard of the magical realm we live in. When you've a lifespan of millennia, you learn to ignore them. The gods always find some mortal champion to avert the crisis. It's one of the reasons we have gods."
"Can you tell us anything about Irenicus?" asked Jaheira. "Or anything else about the prophecies surrounding the Servant of all Faiths?"
"I have told you all I know about the prophecies, as for Irenicus…" Firkraag's amber eyes flashed at Yoshimo and Arowan and both Ilmatari suddenly felt deeply uncomfortable. "Your collective knowledge may outweigh mine. Hmm?"
Suddenly Arowan was agreed with Yoshimo that it was time they got out of there. Irenicus had a great many nefarious and untrustworthy minions working under him. It was perfectly possible that one or more of them was also working for Firkraag. In which case, the dragon probably knew things about the two of them, Yoshimo especially, that she'd rather he didn't share.
"Well thank you this has been very informative," she said hastily. "Now we really must be going. We promised we'd meet some friends and they'll be wondering where we are."
"Wait!" Rasaad cried. "What do you know about Alorgoth?"
"What would such information be worth to you, pious one?" Firkraag asked. "You told me that the 'Great Evil' is a demon, and in exchange I told you what I know about the cull. What will you give me for this?"
"All of our gold and gems!" Rasaad volunteered. "Everything of value we are carrying. Our weapons even!"
This was met by a barrage of protest from the rest of the party. Jewels and trinkets were one thing, but they needed their weapons to survive, and none of the rest of them cared two straws about Alorgoth. Fortunately, their host was not tempted by Rasaad's rash offer.
"No," said Firkraag. "Have I not already told you that I have no interest in such things?"
"What then?" asked Rasaad desperately.
"Information," the dragon said. "Why have a huge pile of sapphires and rubies? You might as well pin up invitations in all the adventurer's taverns saying 'please come and murder me.' I like to know things. Who in this realm might have the power to challenge me? Where are they? What are they doing?"
Rasaad looked downcast. Then a mad, vengeful look flared in his eyes and Arowan grew worried. She knew that look and feared that if she did not intervene, his obsession with Alorgoth might lead him to threaten or even challenge Firkraag. That could only end badly for the group.
"I'll tell you things you don't already know," Arowan sighed. "About Irenicus, and the political situation in Baldur's Gate. Will that do?"
"We have a deal girl," the dragon grinned.
"Just myself and Yoshimo," the ranger insisted. "The rest of you wait up here."
This immediately got the others' hackles up. Naturally it sent Jaheira's suspicion of their thief skyrocketing, and with good reason. Her offer seemed to please their host, however.
"Secrets you do not even share with your own companions? This sounds promising," Firkraag chuckled, twirling a lock of scarlet hair about his fingers.
"We have secrets from each other now?" Jaheira demanded of Arowan.
"Do you tell me everything… Harper?" she replied.
She had a point, but it was clear that the druid did not like it. Firkraag left the rest of the party in Tazok's room and led Yoshimo and Arowan out onto the swinging bridge. His golems stood at either end like statues. The Kara-Turan eyed them mistrustfully and shivered.
"So, what have you got for me?" Firkraag asked, crossing his arms over one of the ropes holding up the bridge and surveying the gaping canyon below.
"Before we answer that, friend," Yoshimo began, "What guarantee do we have that you'll tell us what you know instead of, say, swallowing us whole?"
Firkraag grinned at him, and the thief took a hasty step backward.
"None really," he shrugged. "Though truth be told, between the stench of coriander and watching what your Sun Soul monk did to Tazok, I've rather lost my appetite."
So Arowan told the dragon what she knew. About the potential rebellion fermenting in Baldur's Gate, and Skie Silvershield's soul trapped in the dagger. He asked her about the Order of the Radiant Heart, and she informed him that they seemed to have no interest in Windspear.
"Excellent," Firkraag smiled. "So young Ajantis and his retinue were acting alone. I had heard as much from other sources but it is nice to have it confirmed. A plague of paladins would be most unwelcome. Go on."
She told him about Freya, and how she was supposed to be buried near Trademeet, but really Bodhi was wearing her as a fur coat. This pleased him greatly, and despite his charisma, his smugness was deeply off-putting.
"Gorion's favourite a vampire's anorak," he gloated. "Not exactly useful information, but most amusing… and entertainment is worth something. I am starting to see why you did not want your little companions present for this interview. Some of them were friends with the Hero of Baldur's Gate were they not? Go on."
Arowan wracked her brains for more but nothing else she knew concerned anyone powerful enough to peak his interest. Firkraag began to snort and twiddle his thumbs. She had not given him enough and their host was starting to lose patience.
"Tell him about Bubbles," Yoshimo suggested.
"Irenicus has made an alliance with a necromancer named Bubbles," she said reluctantly. She'd been hoping to avoid bringing their plan into it, in case the dragon had a mind to interfere. "He needs a powerful Bhaalspawn soul, we're not sure why. She's working on a way to bring back Eric of Candlekeep. We mean to disrupt the summoning and substitute Sarevok."
Firkraag's ginger eyebrows shot up into his flaming red locks.
"You plan to revive Sarevok Anchev?" he cried. "Why in Tiamat's name did you not lead with that? His return would turn the fate of the Sword Coast on its head!"
"Erm… Probably not…" Arowan suddenly felt an overpowering sense of guilt. "We're not expecting him to live very long after his revival."
This prompted a slew of other questions, as to why they were doing this. As she said it out loud the guilt twisted and coiled like a worm in her gut. It was wrong on every level, though the dragon did not seem to mind.
"Oh… I like you," Firkraag grinned devilishly. "I like you a lot. All that Ilmatari nonsense about 'please spare the troll cook who wanted to eat me' was quite convincing… but scratch the surface and you're a nasty piece of work. I would enjoy being a fly on the wall for the summoning ritual just to see Sarevok's face when he realises what he has returned to. Ah well. I daresay my agents will tell me all about it."
"You even have spies working for Irenicus who can get into the summoning room?" Yoshimo's eyes widened.
An impish expression took over the dragon's features. Standing on the swinging bridge, he took Yoshimo's hands in his left hand and Arowan's in his right. He tilted his head to one side slightly and smiled pityingly at their sheer stupidity.
"I do now. Don't I?"
Inside, both of the Ilmatari's hearts sank like lead. They now had not one evil master, but two. Three, if you counted Ur-Gothoz trying to manipulate Arowan. Firkraag quizzed them further, wanting every detail of the ritual and all that they could tell him about Bubbles. Finally, satisfied, he let them return to the others in Tazok's room.
"We could have avoided all of this if it weren't for those blasted dryads," Arowan grumbled quietly to Yoshimo. "Ungrateful sodding pixies!"
As soon as they re-entered the room, Rasaad jumped to his feet eagerly.
"Are you satisfied with your information?" Rasaad asked. Firkraag nodded curtly. "Then it is time to hold up your end of the bargain. What can you tell us about Alorgoth?"
"Very well," said Firkraag. He settled himself back into Tazok's chair, cleared his throat and examined his nails. Watching Rasaad get worked up with impatience was mildly entertaining. "Alorgoth believes that he can prevent the cull without the aid of the other gods, by unleashing his shadow creatures. The hubris of your kind never ceases to astound me. He is mistaken of course, but he cannot bring himself to accept that Shar chose somebody else."
Viconia had heard whispers of Alorgoth, the Bringer of Doom, and not only from Rasaad. It was said that he was a master of disguise, changing faces at will, forever scheming and plotting in the service of the Nightsinger. What was beyond any doubt was that he had the personal favour of her goddess. The idea of him being opposed to her calling made her uneasy.
"He has started a new cult called the Twofold Trust," Firkraag said, confirming Rasaad's suspicions. "It is nothing but a trap to expose those who are not truly loyal to Shar. His hope is that you, Servant of all Faiths, will step into it. My minions, I have many of them, keep me informed."
"You have spies in the Twofold Trust?" Rasaad asked.
"I have spies everywhere," Firkraag told them proudly. "Ever since that nasty business with Gorion, I have seen the merit of keeping a close watch on the plans of lesser races. Did you know that if army ants catch a panther sleeping, the tiny pests can strip it to the bone in minutes. It is much the same with humans and dragons. You'd seek to wear my hide and make a trophy of my head… but I will never be caught napping again."
"Where can I find the heretics?" the monk asked. He had little interest in, or sympathy with, the dragon's grievances.
"The heretics will meet at an abandoned amphitheatre a fortnight hence," Firkraag informed him coolly. "I will mark the location on your map. You must tell them that you 'seek truth in both light and shadow.'"
"Thank you," Rasaad replied. He was reticent about accepting the evil dragon's aid. Still, his desire to exact revenge on Alorgoth outweighed his scruples.
"A word of warning, Servant of all Faiths," Firkraag added, turning to Viconia. "Alorgoth is of the opinion that he ought to have been the Chosen One. He knows that Shar's favour has fallen upon another and his jealousy gnaws at him. This Twofold Trust is a trap to lure out doubters amongst the Dark Moon sect and obliterate them. But his primary target is you. If he discovers your identity you will be in grave peril. Tread carefully."
"I am the Servant of all Faiths," Viconia replied confidently. "You have witnessed for yourself that the gods will not allow me to be defeated."
"Shar is by her very nature a treacherous deceiver," Firkraag noted. "Alorgoth believes that his goddess is testing him, and that when he exposes you as weak in faith, he will be chosen in the end. How sure are you that he is wrong?"
"Dead certain," Rasaad said darkly. "Because I will kill him."
"That, and all the prophecies agree that the Chosen of all Faiths is a girl," Arowan pointed out mildly. "Less dramatic than your point Rasaad, but I thought it was worth mentioning anyway."
"Master! Master!" A huge, hairy wolfwere with salivating jaws burst into the room.
"I am busy," Firkraag replied, irritated.
"Apologies for interrupting your supper oh voracious and colossal one!" the wolfwere panted breathlessly. "But you asked to be informed if the rakshasa expedition managed to bypass the guardians."
"Yes?" Firkraag replied testily.
"They've bypassed the guardians."
"Those historians were rakshasa?" cried Arowan.
"Historians? Ha!" snarled Firkraag. "This accursed dungeon once belonged to a famous dragon hunter. He was buried here with his armour and weapons, which were most effective against my kind. I intended to destroy them, as I have many other such artefacts. Alas, these are guarded by an invisible spirit against which my fire did nothing. So I made my lair here that I might keep an eye on them."
"Will you be alright?" asked the ranger.
"First worrying about the troll who wants to cook you, now concerned for the dragon who meant to eat you," Yoshimo sighed. "This is why I call you my crazy lady."
"Oh yes," sneered Firkraag. "I will be fine, but the explorers won't. I deliberately instructed my guards to put up no more than a token resistance. If they succeed in retrieving the dragon-murder's arsenal I can finally destroy it. If they fail, that's a few more dead dragon hunters to add to my collection. A win-win. It does require my attention however, so I fear that our audience is at an end. Come."
He began to lead them back down the steps toward his hall. Nobody made to follow him.
"Do not be so craven! Truly, I have lost all interest in eating you. If there is a battle between my people and the tomb raiders, I cannot guarantee that the Servant of all Faiths will not be injured. Come with me and I will fly you to the surface."
They followed him down into the hall and Firkraag resumed his draconic form. At first Arowan assumed that they would ride on his back but this was easier said than done. He let Viconia take the best place, with her arms and legs wrapped about his scaly neck. In each of his front talons he grasped two of the party. Jaheira, who was left, automatically made for his rear claws but Firkraag shook his snake-like head.
"I think not. I need my back legs free to launch myself, and you'd be cut to ribbons on my tail spikes. Only one seat on the aircraft left I'm afraid. Hop aboard, Harper!" He lowered his head to the ground and opened his mouth wide.
"Absolutely not!" Jaheira exclaimed, folding her arms.
Yet in the end she had no choice. There were other ways Firkraag could have got them all out (for example by making two trips) but the dragon detested Harpers and loved mind games. Refusing the ride would be futile. He had demonstrated himself more than powerful enough to eat her on a whim. Reluctantly, the druid climbed into his mouth and grasped his fangs to steady herself. His breath was hot and beads of sweat began to trickle down the back of her neck.
With a noise like rolling thunder, Firkraag charged down the runway on his back legs. His wings pounded up and down sending a hurricane of wind through their hair. He had a tight grip and the four party members in his front talons winced uncomfortably as he squished them together, Anomen and Arowan in one set of claws, Rasaad and Yoshimo in the other.
Suddenly they found themselves gaining height, and Viconia cried out in delight, hugging the back of Firkraag's neck. The entrance of the cavern opened up above them and she soared from the hole on a dragon's back. Very few people in Faerun's history had ever been granted the honour of riding a dragon, and she was now among them.
When he landed in the cavern they had come in by, she slipped off him and landed neatly on the ground. Riding a dragon was an experience she would not forget if she lived another thousand years. She stroked his scales admiringly. Firkraag preened and grinned at the drow, who was the only one in the party who had enjoyed the experience. Then he opened his talons and the others sprawled to the floor in a heap.
All except Jaheira who was still in his mouth. A mouth which was now tightly shut. They could hear the druid's muffled curses and the sound of her staff uselessly pummelling the inside of his mouth. Arowan grew rather frightened, until they heard the wet schlurp of Firkraag summoning spit, and it became obvious what he was about to do.
He gobbed the Harper out forcefully into the opposite wall of the cavern. She hit it with a splatter and slid slowly to the floor down a waterslide of dragon spit.
Viconia, who was growing fond of Firkraag, laughed with pure happiness. The dragon winked his amber eye at her, then took off once more and slithered back into his hole to deal with the archaeologists.
"Cursed wyrm! Would that Gorion had slaughtered him when he had the chance!" Jaheira raged, though in a sotto scream so that Firkraag would not hear her. She staggered to her feet flicking off great sticky globs of dragon drool.
The dragon ride, Arowan being shot full of arrows, Rasaad defending her, and now this! It was one of the best days of Viconia's life, and she practically skipped out of the cave.
True, Firkraag's warning about Alorgoth was not ideal, but it was a whole fortnight before she would have to worry about that. For Viconia two weeks of safety was a phenomenally long time, and for once nothing horrible was going to come along and spoil it. They stopped by Garren Windspear's cabin to collect their things and say farewell, before heading out for Neera's Hidden Refuge. Gradually civilization receded and the forest grew denser. The wind had blown itself out while they were underground and a warm sunny day had taken its place. After a dip in the cool river to wash off the troll cook's herbs and Firkraag's slobber, even Jaheira began to enjoy herself.