Baldur's gate II_ throne of Bhaal - Drew Karpyshyn [62]
Alone in the house of his father, the tattooed man turned his attention back to the conflagration in the center of the temple. Beneath the crackle of Bhaal's flaming fury he could hear the anguished screams of the slain Bhaalspawn. He felt their torment pulling at his tainted soul, drawing out the unholy lust of his father. He resisted the urge to submerge himself in the glorious suffering.
This night had not gone as he had expected. He had hoped to feed the sacrificial fire with the souls of the drow and the half-dragon tonight. But with Abdel Adrian still alive he could not afford to betray his allies just yet. As the tattooed man had explained to the drow, the continued existence of their common enemy forced the members of the Five to forestall their natural inclinations to turn on each other.
But if his study and training had taught him anything, it was patience. He would bide his time. Eventually he would see them all dead: Abdel, Imoen, Abazigal, Sendai, Melissan-all of the Bhaalspawn, all of the Five, even Bhaal's Anointed would fall. If they killed each other off, so much the better, and in the end he would be the only one left.
Chapter Fourteen
Abazigal flew the entire night spurred on by his shame, his hatred of Sendai, and the knowledge that the arrival of Gorion's ward could ruin all his carefully laid plans. Still many miles from his destination, his keen serpent's eyes could already see the assemblage of dragons who had gathered on the top of the mountain plateau where Abazigal had built his mountain fortress. Blue and green dragons from deep within the Mir Forest, brown wyrms from the sands of the Calimir desert, black dragons from the spider swamp-a glittering kaleidoscope of hues and colors all impatiently awaiting the half-dragon's arrival.
Abazigal had sent his request for audience to every mountaintop, hidden cave, and underground cavern within a thousand miles. Over a dozen of the magnificent creatures had responded, drawn by Abazigal's promises of treasure, glory, and a return to a time when dragons ruled the lands of Faerun. Though he was disappointed to notice the absence of the ancient reds Balagos and Charvekannathor, he was exceedingly pleased to mark the gleaming hide of Iryklagathra, the great blue dragon known to most mortals as Sharpfangs, among the assembled throng.
Arriving just as the first rays of sun knifed through the morning clouds to ignite the snow-covered peaks, Abazigal alighted in the center of the circle formed by the great wyrms. As his feet touched the hard rock he resumed his humanoid form. The others would not be fooled by his appearance. Even in dragon form they could smell he was a half-breed. Proud as he was, Abazigal knew enough to humble himself before the pure bloods. It had cost Abazigal a small fortune in gold and gems just to gain this audience, and he was not about to offend his guests by speaking to them in the form of a true dragon.
"You are nearly late," Saladrex, an ancient green wyrm, said by way of greeting, his great voice echoing throughout the surrounding hills. Smaller and less powerful than the red and blue dragons that struggled for dominance in the region, Saladrex was crafty and ambitious. Sensing an opportunity to gain a powerful ally, he had been open to Abazigal's initial queries. Saladrex was the first wyrm to agree to come and listen to Abazigal's offer. For a price, of course.
Now, apparently, Saladrex was also serving as the voice of the collected council. Abazigal suspected the green dragon had been chosen because many of the other wyrms, like the glorious Sharpfangs, felt it beneath them to bargain with a creature as insignificant as Abazigal knew he was in their eyes.
"My most sincere apologies, great Saladrex," Abazigal replied, careful to keep the snakelike hissing lisp from his speech lest it insult his guests in some way he could not even imagine. The effort made his jaws ache, but he knew it was a small price to pay if he could win the support of Saladrex and the others. "I flew all the night without rest