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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2216224" data-attributes="member: 143">I'll expand more on Zenna's fate in a later update. * * * * * Chpater 382Charmed by the summoning of the mephits—Zenna had called them before, she recalled—Mole quickly decided that she wasn’t going to wait on the sidelines while events developed.  She had no doubt in the ability of her friends to deal with the “fiery beast” described in Freija’s journal, but she also knew that their success might depend upon them getting that collar-thing and getting out of here, fast.  That was true, but there was also something else that drew her forward.  The uneven sea of lava, with the jagged stone islands stretching out across the cavern, presented her with a challenge.  A difficult, dangerous challenge; the sort that she wasn’t very good at resisting.  Mole Calloran wasn’t a fool.  She knew that a dire threat lurked in this place, probably even now moving to strike at them from beneath the shelter of the magma expanse.  But she was confident in her abilities, had survived virtually unscratched dangers that had nearly destroyed her companions.  She’d ridden a dragon, had taken down three of the Cagewrights herself.  She was a shadow, a zephyr, one of the best-damned rogues in the Realms.  Invisible, silent, she ran across the platform and leapt out across the lava.  Augmented by her magical boots, she flew across superheated molten death.  The gap between the starting ledge and her goal—a long, slender finger of uneven rock about eight feet wide, and twenty feet long—was just under twenty feet, and she cleared it easily.  Landing smoothly, conserving her forward momentum, she kept running to the end of the first island.  The next one was nearly thirty-five feet away, but there was a small outcropping of stone jutting from the lava field near the halfway point of the gap.  The outcropping was only about two feet across, but it was her target, and she did not hesitate, leaping across the gap.  Her aim was flawless, and as she hit the outcropping she sprang forward into another leap, somersaulting in mid-air as she arced toward the larger island.  Below her, the lava grew closer as her inertia faded, hot bubbles of air popping through the surface of the molten rock as they rose from below, as if to welcome her lethal immersion within. But then, there was solid rock beneath her feet, and she landed smoothly into a crouch, her forward momentum spent.  Glancing behind her, she saw that there were six inches of exposed stone behind her feet, and then only lava a foot below the upper edge of the rock island where she stood.  Breathing heavily, exhilarated, she looked back at her friends.  The only bad part was that none of them had seen the deed, but as Dannel called out after her, she knew they’d recognized her absence. Looking up, she saw the mephits flying above her, just a short distance ahead.  She’d covered just over half the distance across the room in her leaps.  She looked ahead, at the far ledge now almost within reach, and started forward, looking for the best route to reach that destination. But she never got there.  Even as she took her first step, the magma mephit appeared from the lava ahead, followed by the impressive figure of the pyroclastic dragon, Moltenwing.  Mole just stood there for a moment in stunned amazement as the dragon effortlessly destroyed the magma mephit.  The other two mephits had drawn back in sudden alarm, but not quickly enough; the dragon had driven itself forward to the nearest outcropping of rock—thankfully, not the same one that Mole was perched on!—and pulled itself out of the clinging magma with a speed and agility that surprised the gnome.  As she watched, Mole became aware of buzzing shafts lancing the air around the dragon, missiles fired from the weapons of her companions.  The part of her brain that was registering cohesive thoughts studied the impacts, most of which glanced harmlessly off the dragon’s body.  Armor, then; a hide stronger than steel plate, or a castle bulwark.  It likely had some sort of magical protections inherent as well, she thought. Her brain and body were starting to work together again, and she crouched low, her body pressed into the rock beneath her, willing herself to be silent, unseen.  The dragon launched itself into the air, ignoring the continuing barrage of fire.  A black ray glanced off its torso, but it seemed to dissolve as it impacted the dragon’s body.  Spell resistance, she thought, not really surprised. Her hand dropped to her small crossbow, but her mind dismissed that thought as ludicrous.  Getting back to the others was the logical course, but she would have to get a running start to have a reasonable chance of clearing that long gap at her back. Above her, the dragon lashed out and took out the steam mephit much as it had the first.  The fire mephit was backpedaling as fast as it could fly in the opposite direction, but the dragon almost casually flicked its long tail out behind it, and smote it a devastating blow that knocked it down into the lava, its little body broken.  The drake seemed capable of easily coordinating its actions against multiple opponents, and it had a purely ungodly reach.  Hovering, the dragon turned toward the entry to its cavern, and the companions gathered on the ledge at the edge of the flowing lava.  More missiles impacted it, and Mole saw that several arrows drove deep into its hide.  Dannel and Benzan were starting to have an impact… but the missiles looked damned tiny in the hide of the massive beast. The dragon flew over her, and Mole froze.  Even to one able to penetrate her invisibility, she was but the tiniest bump upon the stone island.  But the dragon suddenly stopped in mid-air, the beating of its wings casting a driving wind across her shelter.  Mole looked up, and met the dragon’s eyes.  In that instant she knew what it saw her to be, knew what she was.  A tiny, insignificant thief, trying to steal its treasure. The dragon’s jaws opened. Mole heard a yell from across the cavern.  Her name.  She tensed, ready to dodge.  She’d avoided explosions, spells, even dragonbreath… She was quicksilver, uncatchable. But the dragon did not disgorge a cone of fire, nor any other attack she could evade.  Instead it breathed an ultrafocused stream of pure sonic energy, a devastating pulse that stabbed unerringly at its target.  The gnome did not even have a chance to scream as the blast slammed into her body, and disintegrated her.</blockquote>

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