Finbar Garess lay back against the cave wall, allowing the warm tingling of Harry’s healing spell to settle his battle wounds. They had just fought and defeated a black dragon, and it had taken its toll on the big ranger, both physically and emotionally.
Harkon’s dragon had fought well, and his own bowstring had sung songs worthy of the finest minstrels of Droskar. Harry’s massive fire spells had been decisive, but were also tricky to deal with in the heat of the battle, Finbar thought. Good old Varik had been darting in and out of the battle like a snake, making those critical attacks that only he knew how to make. Lady Catheshal’s songs were not only inspiring, but physically bolstering as well. Her death had been a sore blow, and thank the Lord of Sufficient Toil the party had that Resurrection scroll to bring her back from the great Beyond. He looked over at her dark countenance and realised she might be humming her own Divine prayer of thanks.
Holding one of the teeth of the dragon in his hand, Finbar reached into his pouch and brought out a small wax carving, shaped and painted in the image of Droskar. Repeating a ritual that had been taught to him by the Spirit Ranger, Floki Stonebeard, he smeared the wax around the tooth, while chanting an old Dwarven Victory Song, until the tooth was totally embalmed in the waxy blob, now without the form of Droskar. Digging a small hole in the ground, Finbar inserted the object into the ground and then covered it up. “Sufficient toil leads to eventual success!” Finbar muttered as he stood up to ready himself for the long trek home.