Riley, Graham and Forest ran to the closest entrance to the Initiative. "Giles is inside already. Scouts report it's a flight of dragons," Finn reported having just answered his radio.

"That's not good. The Apaches are grounded and almost out of ammo," Forest said.

"What color?"

"Scouts report blue, but they aren't sure because of the angle of the light and the clear skies," Riley replied to Graham. "This isn't going to be easy. Aren't they supposed to be immune to electricity or is that black dragons?"

"Black and green are acid; blue is electricity; white is cold; red is fire; the others I don't remember," Forest said. "I need to pay attention to briefings better. There are just so many."

"Can't say I disagree," Riley said as they stepped out of the elevator. They were handed equipment from the other teams already on site and suited up right there. "What's the story?"

"Six dragons, four identified as mature adult and one as a young adult. The last one is incredibly massive, reports are Ancient plus," replied another team leader.

"You are to assemble with the Military and are under their command for the duration of the crisis," Giles announced over the intercom. "I expect reports from all team leaders twenty-four hours after the crisis is over. Good luck."

The Sunnydale Forces were spread out across the growing city to try and maximize the defense with their limited number of personnel. The unfortunate part was that the spots they protected were marked by their presence as the most important. Some additional protection was needed and after some deliberation a few of the new tricks that the Trio had come up with were going to be used. They had developed some conventional weapons as well as a few unconventional weapons as well. However, two of these were to be tested for the first time.

The first was a combination of a magical attack and the usual surface to air missile system. The missiles would use magic to seek out the target, replacing some technological programming with magical enhancement. Upon reaching the target, it would activate a magical trigger that would summon a flight of extra planar beings known as mephits. Although they are technically weak against most targets the missile would be used against, they had the potential to confuse the enemy enough to delay it from hitting any important targets. The missile itself would explode. They weren't sure how well it would do against armored targets since the explosives were made up of road flares and fireworks duct taped together with a soft solder along the outer casing. Fingers were crossed and many developers knocked on wood.

The second was the "laser" that blew up the lab several months before. In theory it could be aimed in the sense that it had a front and a back, but beyond that it wasn't very safe. It was like a giant claymore that had a side that said "face this towards enemy." The device was wisely placed in front of important buildings. It was "aimed" by using duct tape to angle a reflector towards the intended target. It could usually hit the broadside of a barn...a really big barn.

The third was a gun that froze the target. Ironically, it was not actually lethal. The subjects would thaw out after a couple of days as shown by the defrosted mouse living in the walls of the new laboratory. They were not sure if it was going to have any affect on something this large. They had used a large gem discovered in the hoard of the last dragon that attacked as the magical focus.

The attacking dragons were the Morueme Blue Dragon Clan. Unlike most dragons of the North, these dragons were not solitary, but a highly skilled and experienced family of dragons. Each was a skilled sorcerer and had experienced many battles. These were no spring chickens when it came to raids on cities, although the last bit of civilization to be destroyed was an orc village on the other side of the Nether Mountains and that was several centuries ago.

Had the circumstances been any different, they would have waited to attack Sunnydale, but that year had been harsh. In a normal year, game would have been plentiful, with forests and deserts to plunder for their herd animals. However, the coming of Sunnydale had destroyed more than just forests. The inhabitants had faired no better, and thousands of animals had perished in the disaster that brought Sunnydale to Faerun. The dragons' side of the Nether Mountains had survived better than most places, but they had still been forced to devour their hobgoblin slaves. Seven months later game and slaves were gone and there is little that can deter a starving flight of dragons.

The ancient Kizilpazar was the leader of the dragon clan, having claimed the right many centuries past. His mate was his third, the first two killed when they displeased him. She was centuries younger than his offspring, two mature adults with their own mates. His grand-wyrmlings remained back in the caverns, although they too were starving.

Sunnydale seemed ripe for the picking. He had frequently scryed upon the fledgling nation and it had no walls and no guards as he could see it. Their warriors refused armor, choosing speed instead, but that was no problem for a flight of dragons. Lightning would cut through them easily, allow his clan to replenish their food and their slaves. This Sunnydale also looked rich and Kizilpazar was not adverse to adding to his personal hoard. His clan members could have the remainders.

He stayed well out of arrow range, circling around the city, pondering which target to take first. He chose to first confuse them, casting his spells upon them. Unlike many sorcerers, he did not choose spells that merely dealt damage to the enemies. Instead he chose others that would disrupt his opponents' organization. He swooped low, seeming to enter their weapons' range. Instead he cast a spell upon them, immobilizing the humans in place, unable to act at all. His next action electrified them with one deep breath. Humans taste better that way.

Nahaunglaroth, the elder of Kizilpazar's two offspring, chose to attack from the north. He was a skilled sorcerer as well, though not as powerful as his father. He turned himself invisible for a time, appearing to come from the west. Hidden from their sight, he glided around to the north and struck down with his lightning breath, hitting a number of strange metal carts. It seemed to have little effect save for eliciting delightful screams.

However, Nahaunglaroth was not as experienced as his father, nor as cautious. When the metal carts made no response, he ignored them. This was to be the start of his fall. He heard an explosion from behind him and to his detriment, he assumed it was a house or cart starting on fire as they often did in raids. However this was not only an explosion, but also the only sign that a small missile had been launched. He never saw the three young men cheer as their creation flew up into the sky and locked onto the massive target. When the acid mephits swarmed about his face, he tried to outdistance them, but two managed to squirt their acid onto the dragon's eyes and muzzle, partially obscuring his vision. The missile hit him squarely in the collarbone, hitting one of the more sensitive spots on a dragon's skeleton. Although the damage caused was moderate, the explosion disrupted his flight, sending the dragon careening into the new settlement on the western ridge. It was a stroke of luck, but the dragon managed not to fall on one of the new constructions. At that speed, even his tough dragon hide would not have protected him from the impact into steel girders.

His mate swooped into protect him from the air, but made the mistake of glancing at a bright reflection coming from one of the roofs. A short redhaired girl held a tiny mirror out in front of her as if it would ward the dragons off. The moment the dragon made eye contact with it and spotted her reflection within, the magic of the compact activated, pulling in the dragon with terrible force. The red haired girl snapped the compact shut and hopped from roof to roof towards the fallen dragon. She was not the first person to reach the fallen Nahaunglaroth. Instead a strange black and white bear bounced along and stabbed the dragon in the eye with his claws. Finally blinded, the dragon roared and struggled to his feet.

From above Sunnydale, Kizilpazar snorted his disgust at his fallen offspring. Nahaunglaroth was not that young and should have known better. The younger dragon shook as the acid mephits swarmed him, their acidic breath slowly but surely melting away the thick dragon hide. The ancient dragon had to suppress a wince as the strangely colored bear delivered the killing blow, ripping out his offspring's throat. He hoped that Raraurim would fair better.

The younger offspring was not as arrogant, having taken a perch on the cliffs of the mountain overlooking Sunnydale with his mate. He chose his target carefully, but not dispassionately. Having seen his brother so brutally killed and sister-in-law vanish instantly, he was not about to let such a threat go unchallenged. He was a fool to fall for the bait. Casting a spell to levitate objects, he picked up a boulder and tossing it at the human and her pet. He knew not what kind of beast could deliver such blows. The boulders missed as the two targets proved much more agile than first believed. The boulders were large enough to leave craters where they fell, destroying several new buildings in the area.

Having noticed the effect when a reflection distracted his sister-in-law, he and Faenphaele flinched away when a second mirror was turned their way. They should have taken flight. Only a few moments after the mirror lit them up, a massive burst of fire seared the membranes on their wings and charred their hides. Their wings were left as limp bones and cooked flesh. The pain was unbearable and they roared, not even noticing when the attacking device exploded and the searing stopped less than a second later. Without the ability to fly they were little more than sitting ducks that could breath lightning. Cracked and brittle from the sudden heat in the December cold, the cliff around them shattered, tumbling boulders, dragons, melt and snow down the side of the mountain into one deadly path.

Kizilpazar was willing to admit he had been arrogant in attacking so abruptly. He had underestimated the humans and that had cost him his clan. The intelligent thing to do would be turn and run. That would be the wise thing to do, but blue dragons are as stubborn as they are dangerous. Only a coward ran from battle. Kizilpazar acknowledged the perceived threat the weapons on the ground posed and cast a spell of invisibility on himself. This was more powerful than that used by his eldest and would allow him to cast and attack without the spell falling. His mate cast a similar spell on herself using a wand.

There was a small walled compound on the edge of Sunnydale, swooping down towards where the city's warriors seemed to be housed. He knew he only had a few precious seconds before the spell ended and he was vulnerable to attack once more. Where he had expected to find a hundred archers, he found an empty base. Confused, he let his invisibility spell expire, never even noticing a tiny red dot appear on his hide. There was a sudden shock as a single soldier popped out of hiding and targeted the ancient dragon with a shoulder missile, hitting the massive target easily, but the wound was minimal. He dove out of the way as soon as the dragon turned to face him. Kizilpazar landed within reach of the human only to see a hundred orcs in green camouflage clothing prepared to hack at his flanks. The majority of their blows bounced off his tough hide, but a few struck deep into his flesh. They had tricked him. ORCS had tricked him. The ancient dragon swung his head from side to side, electrifying the orcs in a wide, strafing arch with his breath. These orcs were well trained, much more so than the orcs Kizilpazar was used to. Almost as one, the orcs dove into a carefully prepared trench that prepared cover from his attack.

Two orcs died.

ONLY TWO!

Kizilpazar, the Lord and Patriarch of the Moruene Dragon Clan, Ancient Blue Dragon, snarled his rage and raked a claw through the trench only to find it empty. He stuck his head into the trench only to see a series of tunnels allowing the orcs to escape. He had been led into a trap and he had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

He heard steps on the ground behind him and glanced around to see a small human female with yellow hair standing on a perch level with his head. She said something in a rude tone that he couldn't understand. She put a device up to her shoulder and pressed a lever. He suddenly felt his wings burn with horrid cold. Surprised and shocked, he spun his head around to see his wing joints frozen solid. He tried to move them, but the motion only made the frozen flesh crack, sending pain rippling down his spine. If dragons cried from pain, he would have been doing so now. The blond girl jumped onto his back and ran up his neck. He tried to shake her off, but the motion only cracked his frozen flesh further. Roaring in pain, he watched as the female pulled out an axe and hacked down at his neck with strength she should not have possessed. He heard the other humans call out and saw the shadow of his mate fly over and snatch up the yellow haired female in her mouth. The axe fell from the female's grip as she was swallowed whole. The other humans wisely ran away as he prepared to breath on them once more.

Flying away with what she thought was a meal, Idrizraele abandoned her mate. She was prepared to lay her eggs and she could raise the wyrmlings in the cavern as her own. There were other meals. She would never bother Sunnydale again. How right she was.

In mid flight, she buckled from a pain inside her neck. The female was still alive. The pain came back, harder and more frequent this time. For the first time in her existence, she felt a bone break from the inside as the female fought her way out from inside the dragon's gizzard. The dragon struggled in vain to induce vomiting as another blow broke another of her vertebrae. The final blow she felt came as her spinal cord was broken. Unable to control or even feel her body any more, Idrizraele careened out of her controlled flight, falling into a frozen lake. The force of her fall combined with her girth cracked the ice bringing her and the would-be meal into its icy depths. Cold turned to heat as she hit one of the geothermal pockets under the cold water. The final force of hitting the bottom forced the last bit of air from her lungs and the dragon's mouth filled with water.

The moment the dragon's mouth closed over her, Buffy knew she was in trouble. She was never going to get that smell out of her jacket. And it was brand new too.

The dragon plan had worked. Soon after the first dragon attack the SSDF (Sunnydale Self Defense Force) had gone through the combat with a fine-toothed comb. They looked at all possibilities and angles, watching the press footage and that from the helicopters over and over. They also asked the locals about the dragons and formulated a psychological profile of the various major dragons in the region. The Moruene Clan topped the list since they were the closest and one of the most active flights in the North.

Blue dragons as a whole are arrogant, but these had been greatly unopposed for centuries and that would make them even more so. Kizilpazar was the primary target, being lured into an easy meal, only to find it was a trap. The younger Moruenes were just as arrogant, but were even less experienced, if you can call something 400 years old inexperienced. The profiles had detailed every known place the clan had hit in the last twenty years. After adding in all the data, the SSDF had formulated a plan that would take advantage of these weaknesses.

The basic plan in case of a dragon attack was to limit the possible targets. Instead of having a massive number of places to choose from, Sunnydale would choose where the dragons attacked. Since the electricity had to be rerouted for the new position of the dam and geothermal plants, it was decided to turn the maze of tunnels into a series of connected raid bunkers. Non-combatants would escape to a bunker in the case of an attack. They were linked, but were capable of being locked from both sides in case something made its way into one. Giles got the idea from his father's stories of London during the Blitz and it had worked. Thirty-six casualties instead of thousands.

Everyone was still surprised that the Trio's experiments actually worked. They needed refining, there was no debate on that part, no one wanted to remodel the landscape every time there was a dragon attack, but the weapons had definite potential.

And then Buffy was swallowed by a dragon. It was remarkably dry for being swallowed, but when you breath electricity it must evaporate any saliva. "But still, yuck! And there's the gizzard. Let's pass on going through that."

So Buffy started punching the walls of the esophagus with an urgency that anyone would have after being swallowed by a dragon. And Buffy hit hard. When the wall of the throat broke it started splashing her with blood, which was always gross, but better than ytharic blood or gnarly-throat, or however you say its name. Also, it's really hard to tell up and down in the throat of a dragon. Oh, that's bone. Punch Buffy! CRACK! Okay, that's going well. Let's do that again. CRACK! Oops, is everything supposed to go limp? I mean, this is the first time I've ever been swallowed, so I don't really know. Okay, now let's break through the skin. Oh, we're flying.

Correct that. We were flying; now we're falling. Right into water. Why do I always have to fall in every time I fight a dragon. Okay, cold winter water means deep breath for Buffy before we hit. Owe, that's cold and it kinda hurts. I really should have busted out a bigger hole in this thing. Owie! My leg's stuck! Oh, hot, hot, hot! That's a hotspring! Oh, goodie, now we're heading back to the surface. Air! Yay! Wow, we're a long way's from the town. Now I get to die from hypothermia instead of being dragon-ate. Less enthusiastic and more sarcastic yay this time.

OOO! Big ole dragon has something in the hand-claw, the hand/claw thingy. Oo! It's a wand. I wonder what it does. I'll just wave it around and bibbity-bobbity-boo! Great Buffy, now you're soaking wet, sitting on a dragon in the middle of lake Sunnydale and invisible so people can't find you before you freeze to death. That was really smart. Oh, it only lasts a few seconds.

Oh, people! Wave to the people and hope they have a boat that will go in this choppy sort-of frozen water.

On the shore, the other Scoobies watched Buffy's antics as they waited for the rubber dingy to inflate.

"Do you think Buffy knows it's us?" Xander asked.

"Nope," Willow said, stretching her neck to get a better look at the dragon. Peeking from behind Xander she glanced at the sky. "I wonder if you can eat dragon?"

Xander, Giles and Drizzt looked at her like she was crazy. Willow just shrugged.

"Well, that's a lot of animal. I just don't want to see it go to waste," Willow explained. "And we could use the food."

"I suppose it's possible. I will-ah-consult my books for recipes for-ah-dragon," Giles said, straightening his glasses. "Perhaps we should focus on rescuing Buffy for now."

By this time Dinin had had enough of Billy Ray Cyrus, Karaoke, and the three other CDs Drizzt played. He had to admit that it was a powerful form of torture, simply mental with no possibility of physically harming the target. The irony of the situation was that Dinin had already given up. The moment he acknowledged that Drizzt could easily kill him, he had lost the will to fight. What was the point?

When Drizzt finally came to shut off the music, the elder Do'Urden sat quietly in the cell, awaiting his judgment. Drizzt punched in a key code on the cell and a moment later the door slid open. From that moment onward, Drizzt never let his blaster stray from Dinin. He was clearly taking no chances. Dinin, dressed only in his white jumpsuit, raised his hands in the air and waited for Drizzt to circle around behind him. Only then did Dinin start to walk out the cell.

They didn't speak while they walked save for Drizzt directing his brother left or right. Other inmates and several Initiative Agents watched the precautions Drizzt took and the procession to the interrogation room with deep interest. They walked into another room, this one made entirely out of metal right down to the chair.

"Sit," Drizzt commanded. Dinin sat. Drizzt started pacing about the room, but he never let his eyes leave his brother. "Dinin, why are you here?"

"Vierna made me come," Dinin said truthfully. "I didn't want to come because I have this problem with dying. I just don't really want to do it."

"And you think I would kill you?"

"I know you can, I am not as sure why you chose not to," the former weapons master said. "The old you, the one that killed our sister? That Drizzt would have killed me in a second. What happened to him?"

"Ten years is a long time, even for a Drow," Drizzt said, not really answering.

"Actually, I think he was sitting in a cell across from me," Dinin said. "The Drizzt that could have been if you only followed the rules."

"If I had followed the rules, you would be long since dead, Dinin," the younger Do'Urden stated flatly. In Drow society, it was simple truth that the younger brother would have wanted to become the Elder brother soon enough and there was only way for that to happen: the older brother needed to die. Sometimes (usually) that older brother needed help dying. It was a vicious cycle that would only repeat itself when a new younger brother was born and grew old enough to plot. Dinin sighed. "I actually have accepted the inevitable. You will one day kill me. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday and I will only know it after you have done the deed."

"If I was truly akin to Menzoberranzan, that would be considered high praise, if rather uncouth to speak aloud," Drizzt said. Drizzt leaned forward on the table. "What does Vierna want with me?"

"She seems to think that you can help restart House Do'Urden," Dinin said, fully speaking the truth.

"Then she is crazy," Drizzt replied. Dinin cackled slightly and smirked, as he was wont to do.

"Oh, it's much worse than you think," Dinin snarked. "She seems to have affection towards you, Drizzt. She's been speaking to Lloth, or whatever other creature of the planes is speaking to her, and she's decided this is a Holy Mission and that House Do'Urden starts wherever you are. She isn't coming FOR you, she's coming TO you. Congratulations. You're the new Weapons Master."

"Who did she bring with her? How big is the army? Who supplied it? Was it Baenre?"

Dinin jumped back at the sudden firing of questions.

"She's got Bregan D'arth and Jarlaxle," Dinin said. "There is no army, Baenre refused to lend one. My guess is they're saving it for a special target, I'm assuming that's Blingdenstone. She does have a collection of slaves from the old Illithid city you and your father destroyed."

"That was not Zaknafien," Drizzt said through gritted teeth. He was very close to loosing his self-control.

"The Zin-Carla then," Dinin said, throwing his arms up in the air in defeat. "It was the path we followed. What happened in that place? There were quite a few drow living there."

"There were Mind Flayers," Drizzt said simply. "They died."

"Something tells me there was more to it than that," Dinin said with his trademark smirk. "A few of those young drow look suspiciously like members of House Do'Urden. Did the Illithids have a little slave breeding ground? Did you enjoy yourself?"

Drizzt spun around and knocked on the door to the interrogation room.

"I'm done," he said to the guard posted on the other side. The door opened up and Drizzt walked out. A while later, a middle aged human male walked in and sat down at the other side of the table. He opened up a yellow folder, revealing a series of pictures more accurate than any artist Dinin had ever seen. They were disturbingly lifelike.

"Hello Mr. Do'Urden," the man said. "I am Rupert Giles."

Dinin didn't recognize the name and said nothing.

"I understand you were tortured for the last week. I can assure you that had I known of it, you would have been in a different situation," Giles said, not saying what that other situation would have been. He took the pictures and set them out from left to right across the table. "But even so, we would like some information. I want names and ranks for all of these people. I want to know what they do, who they grew up with, where they live, what they like to do for fun. I want to know everything about these people. I want to know who their mother's slept with in the past ten years. I want to know who they slept with and any rumors about them." Giles looked at Dinin like it was obvious that Giles would get what he wanted. "I want to know these things and you are going to tell me. After that, you will tell me more."

Dinin did.