02 Swords of Dragonfire by Forgotten Realms

Author:Forgotten Realms [Realms, Forgotten]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-10T14:55:49.742000+00:00

"So, which way?" Florin asked. Pennae frowned, raised her hands to indicate two adjacent passages that angled off slightly to her right, seeming to diverge only a little from each other, then shrugged and dropped one hand, to leave the othet pointing. "That one. The Chambers must be a fair distance on, yet." "Huh," Semoor said, as they started to trot again, on into the darkness. "Just like the treasure that was supposed to start showering down on our heads, never to stop, when we gained our charter." "You," Islif told him, "can be replaced." "Oh, no," he replied, holding up both hands in mock dudgeon. "I don't think so. An Anointed of Lathander willing to rush around the realm taking down Purple Dragons, fighting your many-gods-bedamned robed and belted wizards of your fabled Black Brotherhood of Zhentil sarking Keep, while inns tumble down around his ears and lady war wizards lecture them on ethics, to say nothing of being told what to do by their armed companions, many of whom seem like reckless doltsI'm trying to be polite, herewould seem to me to be a rare breed. A very rare breed." "Behold, Watching Gods, our Wolftooth speaks truth," Jhessail observed with a wry smile. "For once." "Just how blazing big is this Palace?" Doust asked, puffing along. "Or do its cellars and underways underlie a good bit of Suzail?" "They do," Pennae and Islif answered togetherere each giving the other a frown and asking in unison, "and just how is it that you know that?" Semoor rolled his eyes. "Crazed-wits, all of them. And I'm trapped down here with them." "Florin," Islif inquired, "would it be a breach of our agreement if I drove the toe of my boot forcefully into a certain Wolftooth backside?" "Just one boot?" Florin replied. "No." Then he chuckled. A few running strides later, he chuckled again. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. Almost immediately, Islif and Doust joined in. And so it was that the Knights of Myth Drannor were laughing like madfolk as they came rushing out of the darkness at the next astonished Purple Dragons they were fated to meet, four full-armored soldiers standing deep in boredom around a painred Purple Dragon on the passage wall. A guardpost. This one, thankfully, had no gong. + + -4- + + The younger Zhentarim was breathing hard as he came through the door. "I got them all back herejust in time. There're more Purple Dragons riding hard to Halfhap right now than I thought Cormyr could muster!" "Local Dragon commanders shrieking about Lord Manshoon and the Blackstaff and Elminster blowing up an inn in town will do that," the older Zhentarim said, rising from a desk littered with librams, grimoires and scrolls. "Huh. Morelike old Vangerdahast got the scare of his life, ran home with his tail between his legs, and shrieked hard in his king's ear. And Azoun was so awestruck at his oh-so-haughty Royal Magician babbling in fear that he called out all his armies!" "Perhaps so, indeed.

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