He sent his consciousness searching for his sons. He quickly located Azriim and Dolgan. The largest of his sons was alive but sorely wounded. Serrin he could not locate. He wondered without sentiment if his third son had died.
Azriim and Dolgan were on Faerun's surface, no doubt having used their teleportation rods to escape the destruction of Skullport.
Well done, my sons, he projected, and caressed the pleasure receptors of each of his brood. Well done, indeed.
To Azriim alone, he projected, Where is Serrin? And the priest and his comrades? Did you kill him, as you had so hoped?
He sensed hesitation.
Serrin is dead. And I did not kill the priest, Azriim returned, with some disappointment. But we believe he is dead, he and two of his comrades. The other. . .
The other? Vhostym pressed.
Azriim's confusion carried through the connection.
The other saved me and offers alliance. We're bringing him to you. He wishes to join the brood.
Vhostym frowned, unsure of Azriim's meaning. No matter. He would deal with the priest's ally when he arrived back on the pocket plane.
Bring him, he projected to his slaadi. I would reward you both.
He sensed the excitement of his sons through the mental connection. Azriim and Dolgan were imagining their transformation into gray slaadi.
Azriim's mental voice answered, We are coming now.