And there he stood . . . all alone. Dain had just dealt the death blow to Rezmir. Such a feat would surely seem a victory - were it not for the carnage around him. Scattered across the floor lie the bodies of his fallen comrades: Nulara, Kaelthiros, Oloril, and Mullyn. Lucien, however, was not in sight. The castle was no longer plunging downward towards the earth. Perhaps, from another location, it was the paladin who had managed to stop its descent? He would have to look later. Urgently, he darted to each of his senseless allies. The vital signs of Oloril and Kaelthiros were stable; however, the bodies of Nulara and Mullyn had no life in them. Their spirits had already departed.
Silently, the dwarf stood. Surely, preventing the summoning of Tiamat and killing Rezmir was a great success. Still, the loss that lie before him stole the gladness from his heart. After situating Oloril and Kaelthiros, the warrior steeled his resolve.
"Lucien," he cried out, "help me tend to their wounds." With any luck the paladin was still living, and could assist Dain. That is, he could assist not only with tending to the living - but with making preparations . . . for the dead.