Orlando has been absently swirling the wine in his glass, the rhythmic, circling oscillation of the red wine not quite reaching the rim as memories of another pass, and another clutch of foul Zhents, plays itself out in the theatre of his mind. When at last he rejoins the actual flow of the conversation, he catches up through the simple expedient of talking about how they should go smash some of the servants of the Black Network.

" Though the daemonfey," Orlando pronounces the unfamiliar word the same way that a tourist approaches the word for a fancy confection, with great enthusiasm if not great practice,".. are certainly up to no good, and must not be allowed to achieve whatever nefandous ends they pursue, there is uncertainty as to when they will achieve these ends, and to what extent they are ruinous. The situation Everska finds itself in is, I understand, less ambiguous. Everska must not be allowed to fall, as horrible a notion as that even is to entertain. That we might assist in providing succor to the siege they suffer must not be overlooked. And all we need do is sweep some trifling trouble-makers from a mountain pass."