Using the explosives the Yellow Planeswalker had distilled from the essences of the slain githyanki, Digger was able to craft some high-quality explosives. Some to bring down the prison roof, and some to blow open the wall in order to let the other prisoners escape.


The demons, the modrons, and the drow all looked at Faris, who sat on his throne, a sly grin on his face. “I’m sorry that you’re surprised,” he said, “but all of you, including my old friends from Valia, will have your agreements honored. If, that is, you are able to find the bauble before anyone else.”


“WHO’S YOUR DADDY!” the strige screamed, shaking young Denny like a ragdoll.

“Fine, fine!” he muttered. “Aiden…Aiden Jenison. That worthless old tin pot.”

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