Nidia made a mad dash back to Shadowvale, where she collapsed onto a bearskin mattress and remained motionless since.
"What’s wrong?" Shawn asked out of worry, but she did not answer. Ysilnod lifted up a corner of the bearskin and touched her arm, which was apparently scorching hot as if she were a lit copper furnace. The chilly grave gradually warmed up, and even from a few steps away, Shawn could feel the intense heat radiating off of Nidia.
The drow kneeled down in front of her. "Are you unwell?"
"Dragons don't get sick. Oh, I guess that's not exactly right… There is one condition, and it's called dragon sickness." The mage, who had no self control when it came to such discussions, began blabbing on without end. "However, the symptoms of dragon sickness that comes about from greed do
