There was a tap on his arm, and he turned. The serving griffon from earlier was holding his hammer. He took it from her and muttered a hurried thanks as the sound of breaking wood followed by a deafening roar brought Handy back to the matter at hand. Ferix was now several feet away from him. The tent space was a veritable ruin of broken poles, torn fabric, and destroyed crates and barrels. Most of it was Ferix's doing. The dragon was furious, and unfortunately for Handy, he didn't look too much the worse for wear for the fight.