{Illustrated}
Once upon a time Pagne planned parties in a palace of fungus, now he is planning a revolution.
Success requires a cunning plan, hinging on the element of surprise, careful catering, and colourful costumes.
However, an unfortunate ser...
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The goblins were not running nearly fast enough, for something else had come from the mountain that was not rock nor lava.
"If you're Kyos, then what is making that racket behind us?!" Pagne wailed at the sock-dragon. His grip tightened on Knauker's shoulders as he peered upwards. "Get down!" he screamed.
A large black shape was headed towards them, flanked by intense flame. At first Pagne thought it was another falling rock, but as it got closer he made out a somewhat draconic shape. It swooped over them with another otherworldly shriek as he and the goblins threw themselves to the ground.
"I always knew there were somethin' hidin' in Ol' Malignant that weren't meant tae be!" Knauker cried and scrambled to hide underneath Pagne, but he was quickly up and bouncing around again when the heat of the ground got too much for all of them.
"Come back 'ere an' say that tae me face, ye filthy beast!" Stumps shouted. He took a stand on top of the luggage, shaking his lump-of-wood-with-nail-in.
"It did nay even say words!" Gringit hollered at him. Warts aside, he was the most level-headed of the three goblins. "An' stop shakin' that thing at it! Ye may want tae fight the beastie, but I fer sure don't, aye!"
"Now that's a proper dragon! Remember when you were a real dragon? What silly things they are," snorted the happy head with another honk to finish with.
"I remember all too well what I was before you turned me into this abomination," his other head moaned. "Oh look, it's coming back here to devour us all." His neck coiled into a tight ball with his head draped over the top. A loose bit of sock sagged over his eye-buttons. "I'm going to take a nap. I would prefer for my last memory to be the backs of my eyelids rather than you incompetent gits."
"Ye can take me, but ye won't take me baggies!" Stumps shouted as the dragon plunged towards the group, but he had prepared for a battle that never came.
The flaming beast passed low over them, and then Pagne saw it. The roar was not coming from the dragon at all. There, on its head, stood Saloonka, screeching through a new cone of loudness. And now that he took a proper look, there was certainly more rat than dragon in the creature's shape.
"Saloonka, get down here!" Pagne shouted.
He flapped his arms about at the fiend, but then Duskerro's flames threw light over the Tyvern army. They had regrouped into their battle lines, and the rat-dragon was heading straight for them. Pagne's heart sunk like a drowning sock-victim. He had not brought Saloonka all this way so he could get himself killed.
"There in't enough o' us tae fight any more, Gringe," Knauker said, pulling at his ears. "We should run while we can."
"What choice do we 'ave, aye?" Gringit replied solemnly.
