began to laugh. At first, it was a snicker, but it grew louder, deeper, and soon, the human in front of Vhok was outright guffawing, bent over and slapping his knee. Vhok couldn’t help but grin a bit in response to the comical scene. When the transformed wyrm managed to regain his breath and stand upright, Vhok could see that tears of mirth streamed down his host’s cheeks.
“I’ve never heard a dragon’s greed described quite so aptly,” Nahaunglaroth said at last. “I will give you credit, cambion you don’t lack for bravado or wit. Not too many folk choose to show their true disposition while standing before a dragon. Now, I’ve got a surprise for you.” The creature put his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle. “There are things these human bodies are much better for,” he said, smiling, as they waited. “Never could do that until I learned how to shift
shapes. Whistling is so… interesting.” He began to twitter a tune then, some common drinking house song that Vhok recognized but couldn’t recall the words to.
The cambion just smiled and nodded, surprised at what might amuse a dragon. Is he being cagey, or eccentric? Vhok wondered.
After a moment, another half-dragon entered the room. It was similar in appearance to the guard that had escorted Vhok and Lysalis to the chamber, but it was slighter of build and seemed to hold a more intelligent gleam in its eyes. It carried a small silver coffer to Nahaunglaroth, then turned and left.
The dragon turned and passed the coffer to Vhok. “You brought me gifts, now I return the favor. Think of it as sealing the pact.” At Vhok’s surprised gaze, the creature nodded. “Yes, I’m willing to talk terms. I’ve had some time to think about your offer since your last visit, and honestly, the idea has merit. My father lost touch with the outside world, and my brother and I want to extend our reach farther, and gain influence and favors. So we are willing to enter into agreement with you, provided we can address a few concerns.
“In particular, we want to start acquiring a supply of magically enchanted weapons and armor for our Blood. You do intend to rekindle the forges of the Everfire once you seize control, don’t you?”
Vhok nodded absently and said, “Undoubtedly.” He opened the box and found an odd item resting inside. It was an alabaster carving of a vine-covered archway, perhaps the size of his fist. The cambion removed it from its case and held it up, examining it. He could sense latent magic radiating from within.
“My diviners knew you were coming tonight, and they also told me you are about to embark on a great journey,” Nahaunglaroth said, standing beside the half-fiend while
Lysalis crowded next to him on the other side. “Perhaps this small token will aid you,” the dragon added.
Vhok, slightly concerned that his plans were known to others, nodded his thanks. Let’s hope my enemies don’t glean as much about me, he thought.
“Here,” Nahaunglaroth said, taking the carved arch from Vhok, “let me show you how this works.”
Myshik Morueme paused and sniffed the dead air around him, gauging his path as much by intuition as by any mental map. The blue-scaled hobgoblin chose a direction and proceeded, drawing on his half-draconic heritage to feel his way. His heavy boots thunked rhythmically as he walked. He held his massive war axe cradled in the palms of his clawed hands. He knew that, should he confront any dwarves with it, the anger in their eyes would delight him.
The passage was worked stone, precisely carved out of the bedrock of mountains by dwarf tools wielded by dwarf hands. The quality of the architecture interested him not the slightest bit, except insofar as it helped guide him. For two days, Myshik had ascended out of the Underdark, passing through countless tunnels, ruined gates, and hallways that marked the outer boundaries of Old Delzoun. Steered by his knowledge of the ancient dwarven territory,
“I’ve never heard a dragon’s greed described quite so aptly,” Nahaunglaroth said at last. “I will give you credit, cambion you don’t lack for bravado or wit. Not too many folk choose to show their true disposition while standing before a dragon. Now, I’ve got a surprise for you.” The creature put his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle. “There are things these human bodies are much better for,” he said, smiling, as they waited. “Never could do that until I learned how to shift
shapes. Whistling is so… interesting.” He began to twitter a tune then, some common drinking house song that Vhok recognized but couldn’t recall the words to.
The cambion just smiled and nodded, surprised at what might amuse a dragon. Is he being cagey, or eccentric? Vhok wondered.
After a moment, another half-dragon entered the room. It was similar in appearance to the guard that had escorted Vhok and Lysalis to the chamber, but it was slighter of build and seemed to hold a more intelligent gleam in its eyes. It carried a small silver coffer to Nahaunglaroth, then turned and left.
The dragon turned and passed the coffer to Vhok. “You brought me gifts, now I return the favor. Think of it as sealing the pact.” At Vhok’s surprised gaze, the creature nodded. “Yes, I’m willing to talk terms. I’ve had some time to think about your offer since your last visit, and honestly, the idea has merit. My father lost touch with the outside world, and my brother and I want to extend our reach farther, and gain influence and favors. So we are willing to enter into agreement with you, provided we can address a few concerns.
“In particular, we want to start acquiring a supply of magically enchanted weapons and armor for our Blood. You do intend to rekindle the forges of the Everfire once you seize control, don’t you?”
Vhok nodded absently and said, “Undoubtedly.” He opened the box and found an odd item resting inside. It was an alabaster carving of a vine-covered archway, perhaps the size of his fist. The cambion removed it from its case and held it up, examining it. He could sense latent magic radiating from within.
“My diviners knew you were coming tonight, and they also told me you are about to embark on a great journey,” Nahaunglaroth said, standing beside the half-fiend while
Lysalis crowded next to him on the other side. “Perhaps this small token will aid you,” the dragon added.
Vhok, slightly concerned that his plans were known to others, nodded his thanks. Let’s hope my enemies don’t glean as much about me, he thought.
“Here,” Nahaunglaroth said, taking the carved arch from Vhok, “let me show you how this works.”
Myshik Morueme paused and sniffed the dead air around him, gauging his path as much by intuition as by any mental map. The blue-scaled hobgoblin chose a direction and proceeded, drawing on his half-draconic heritage to feel his way. His heavy boots thunked rhythmically as he walked. He held his massive war axe cradled in the palms of his clawed hands. He knew that, should he confront any dwarves with it, the anger in their eyes would delight him.
The passage was worked stone, precisely carved out of the bedrock of mountains by dwarf tools wielded by dwarf hands. The quality of the architecture interested him not the slightest bit, except insofar as it helped guide him. For two days, Myshik had ascended out of the Underdark, passing through countless tunnels, ruined gates, and hallways that marked the outer boundaries of Old Delzoun. Steered by his knowledge of the ancient dwarven territory,
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