Baldur's gate II_ throne of Bhaal - Drew Karpyshyn [60]
Chapter Thirteen
Even now, long after the ritual had ended, the flames in the pit at the center of the abandoned temple burned high and hot, fuelled by the essence of the countless Bhaalspawn slaughtered in the sacking of Saradush. The orange light of the fire reflected off the walls, giving the painting of Bhaal's grinning gray skull on the wall a hideous glow and bathing the entire room in its ghastly illumination.
The three cowled figures huddled in the farthest corner of the temple. Conditioned by years of operating in hiding and secrecy, they were still loathe to let the revealing light of Bhaal's ceremonial fire touch their hooded forms.
"The blaze has never been so strong," the smallest of the figures whispered, brushing a strand of silver-white hair from her dark skin. Of the three, the light bothered the drow most of all. Extremely young by elf standards, most of her thirty years of life had been spent among the blackness of the Underdark where the only illumination was the diseased glow of pale lichens. Recruited by the Anointed One several years ago to join the Five, the drow still found bright light painfully uncomfortable.
"The blaze is strong because our triumph is near," the second figure replied. The tattoos on his face and hands seemed to pulse and shimmer in response to the ghoulish radiance of Bhaal's burning essence.
The third and largest figure flicked his long forked tongue to taste the scent of Bhaal's sacrificial glory that hung like smoke in the air. In the harsh light his pupils were mere slits of black in the yellow of his reptilian eyes. "Yet Gorion'sss ward ssstill thwartsss usss."
The drow scoffed at the fear in the voice of her larger companion. "Abazigal, surely you are not afraid of this stupid oaf?"
The half dragon hissed at the revelation of his name. "You dare betray my identity?" he growled.
The tattooed man halted the impending argument with a simple wave of his hand. "Do not be a fool, Abazigal. Your identity is already known to our enemy. The Anointed One has informed me that even now Gordon's ward tracks your pet to your mountain enclave."
"Perhaps I should accompany you back to your home, Abazigal," the drow suggested in a sinister whisper. "If you are frightened I can deal with Abdel for you."
"No!" Abazigal spit out hastily. "I ssshall deal with him alone. You will not befoul my sssacred cavrensss with your unholy presence."
The drow laughed, amused at Abazigal's righteous indignation. "Do you seek to hide secrets from us, Abazigal? Do you think we are unaware of the dragon army gathering near the foot of your mountain home?"
She shook her head in mock sympathy. "Poor little half-breed," she sighed. "You are fooling yourself if you believe the true dragons will flock to your banner. They will never demean themselves enough to follow a bastard wyrm like yourself!"
The clawed hand of Abazigal lashed out to rip the drow's windpipe from her throat but found only air. The drow ducked under the attack and slipped around behind her heavyset opponent, her knife pressed against his throat.
"Perhaps Yaga Shura will not be the only member of the Five to fall tonight," she whispered in his ear.
"Enough," the tattooed man said in a firm voice.
The drow sheathed her blade and stepped back from the chastened Abazigal. The half-dragon turned his back on his two companions and walked slowly toward the exit.
"I can ssstay no longer. I have more pressssing mattersss to attend to." Embarrassed by the drow's display, Abazigal's voice was sullen and petulant.
"Yes, hurry, half-breed," the drow taunted. "You must not keep your betters waiting!"
Beneath his cloak, Abazigal's body stiffened.
"We shall leave Abdel to you," the tattooed man promised, causing Abazigal's body to relax. "Do not underestimate him," he warned his companion. "Illasera and Yaga Shura paid for their arrogance with their lives."
Without turning to face them, Abazigal replied, "They were weak