That got everyone's attention, and they all stared at Lidia. Valygar spoke up first: "You're damned insane."
"Boo is confused," Minsc said, patting the small hamster on his shoulder. "It would not be cowardice to come back another day with bigger swords! We did that with the red dragon, but how is the black dragon different?"
He held the hamster to his ear, then exclaimed, "It turns out the lights, so it is that much more evil! Time to settle it down with the glass of warm milk of goodness! Minsc likes the way you think."
"Incredibly," Anomen said, "our comrade raises a valid point. Ought we to spend our blood smiting that deadly thing while the greater evil of the Shade Lord remains unchecked?"
"It's worth considering," Lidia said. "If we deal with the Shade Lord but not his servant, the dragon could summon a replacement for his master from the Plane of Shadow. Then Imnesvale would be back where it started."
The conversation derailed from there into a debate about details, tactics, and strikes from dragon-slaying stories, whether real or imagined. And they recalled tales of famed shadow dragons of old: Shhuusshuru and her daughter Aurgloroasa, Dorcha'zerass the Concealed, Cheolreog the Deathless One. But, unfortunately, they could only remember one time that such a dragon had been defeated: when the great shadow dragon Shimmergloom had been killed by none other than Bruenor Battlehammer, hero-king of the dwarven Mithral Hall.
"And if memory serves," Mazzy said, "Bruenor survived that completely by accident."
Lidia surveyed the group; the disheartened and doubtful looks on their faces indicated that they seemed to have taken Mazzy's point to heart. "I'm not saying we hurl ourselves into the dragon's lair," she said. "But we can counter some of its favored tactics and here we might find some advantage that will allow us to strike first." She pounded her fist into her hand.
The other members of Gorion's Company seemed far more skeptical, but, content that they wouldn't be doing battle with a dragon within the hour, they let the matter rest.
Before long, they broke their camp, putting Yoshimo again on Minsc's back. They were pushing their luck and Yoshimo's, they knew, and more than once, they'd considered sending him back to Imnesvale with another group member. But while this darkness reigned, they would need Valygar's help to guide them out of the temple's vicinity, and if the group divided their efforts, they would become that much easier prey for the creatures of shadow that surrounded them.
They left the massive stone doors alone, for now, instead taking a small wooden door down another short corridor carved from stone.
After a few paces, they passed the threshold into an unusual room.
They raised their lamps to survey it better. It was much like the rest of the temple: carved from stone, low to the ground, and mainly made of grey granite that rendered the atmosphere much like a cave or a tomb. With one exception: a series of brightly shining bronze tiles covered the entire floor, and each tile was emblazoned with a golden letter. The tiles, arranged in rows five wide and six deep, were framed by words on all four sides: Follow the path of Amaunator and be blessed; they who do so shall live.
Despite the ancientness of this place, crumbling and ravaged by time, these letters still shone brightly. All that dimmed the effect was the occasional smear of ash.
"It's in Common," Aerie said, peering down at the tile directly in front of her; this one had a finely traced letter X. "I...I wonder when this was put in?"
Before anyone could say anything, she touched the tile with her foot. It pressed down with a click.
She leaped away in the nick of time. A column of fire shot up from the tile to the ceiling. Just as soon as it appeared, it disappeared like a lightning bolt, though an invisible curtain of heat and the smell of sulfur permeated the room long afterward.
"Aerie!" Mazzy said sternly.
"I'm…I'm sorry," the elf said. "I mean, I know—"
"In a place like this," Mazzy said, "you must carefully check every step. There's no harm done — and rarely are the results so dramatic — but take this as a lesson."
"Follow the right path, and if you don't, get a flame strike to the face," Valygar said, half to himself. "Typical."
Mazzy walked next to the five tiles in the first row, inspecting them. "I wonder what the right path is, though it seems to be known to the former inhabitants."
She shone her light on the farthest tile to the right. "This one has more scratches on its surface by far. Perhaps it was the beginning of a code of some kind."
"We…we shouldn't try all the tiles. Who knows what the code might be?" Aerie said.
Lidia recalled something Yoshimo had once said: that the first rule of breaking a door was to check and see if it was actually locked.
"If it was used often enough," Lidia said, "maybe there isn't a code at all."
The tile that Mazzy had pointed out was the letter A.
"Shadows are mindless beings," she continued, "and the priests probably needed to enter this room often if the tiles had this many scratches. This room might have protection enough to keep shadow-creatures out and admit everyone else in."
She stepped on the tile. Nothing happened.
She moved forward, planting her second foot on the same tile. She held up Azuredge and inspected the tiles closest to her, willing the axe to give a gentle glow.
Two tiles reflected back the light nearly perfectly, but one flickered back in an array of scratches. This tile bore the letter M.
"The path of 'Amaunator,'" Mazzy said as realization dawned on her. "Of course."
Some of the tiles did in fact spell the dead god's name, and they followed this path to the other side of the room. They passed through a low threshold, their steps arrested with a new caution, and found themselves in another room.
This one was nearly empty, though here and there, scraps of gold cloth lay on the floor. But it seemed cleaner than most other places — if the tiles were meant to protect this room, then they had done their job.
The only furnishing was an image of Amaunator unlike the others. Here, thieves had taken nearly everything not bolted down, but every other depiction of the sun god that they'd found had reflected every story told about him: that he had been a judge that weighed matters to a nicety and considered only the letter of the law. Carved from the granite, ceiling to floor, this statue depicted the god's arms, head, and shoulders. But his face, encircled with a once-golden band, looked down, much more tender in aspect and softened with concern.
The statue's arms encircled a stone platform of some kind, long enough to place a body. To the left and right were two iron sconces upon the wall. They lit the lamps, placed the small sack of bones upon this altar, and waited.
A gentle wind passed through the room, causing the lights to flicker. But from the distance came a rumble and an unearthly howl.