Play It Just For Me
By Semdai Bloodquill
Disclaimer : Semdai - (yawns) Ah, another day of typing, thinking, and disregarding copyright laws. (stretches)
Semdai's Conscience - Who are you writing about today?
Semdai - Today I'm doing a songfic about Drizzt Do'Urden.
Semdai's Conscience - About what?
Semdai - (sarcastically) You're my conscience, don't you know?
Semdai's Conscience - (also sarcastically) I'm your conscience, not your brain.
Semdai - I wrote this following the song "Sound the Bugle"
Semdai's Conscience - (shocked) Sound the Bugle isn't your song!
Semdai - (defeated) I know it's Bryan Adams' from the movie "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron"
Semdai's Conscience - (sternly) And what about Drizzt?
Semdai - (with difficulty) Drizzy is... (gulp) NOT mine either.
Semdai's Conscience - That's a good girl.
Semdai - ARG! (attempts to strangle her conscience)
And now on with the fic!
Sound the Bugle now, play it just for me...
Drizzt's foot became entangled in something beneath the snow. The once graceful ranger toppled down the hill, rolling over several large rocks and badly jarring his sense of balance. He did not rise again at first, more from his pain than any loss of equilibrium.
As the seasons change, remember how I used to be...
He remembered times when he and Catti-brie had rolled down similar hills. But, they had laughed during those times. Drizzt did not laugh now. The ranger had not laughed for months now. Months that had been spent wandering aimlessly across the tundra.
More than ever now he felt alone in the unforgiving wasteland of Icewind Dale. His heart hurt and ached and burned with sadness and anger. His friends were gone and he was utterly alone.
Now I can't go on...
He reached into his pouch for the onyx figurine of Guenhwyvar. The figurine was not there. Then Drizzt remembered. The panther's figurine had been shattered by a yochlol in the battle with the fanatic drow elves.
The battle that had taken his friends.
I can't even start...
How vividly Drizzt remembered that battle. Scores of kobolds and goblins had surged like water at the ranks of dwarves. The dwarves had cut down the fodder easily. But then the dark elves had come. Like a black plague, the drow came by the hundreds. The dwarves were slaughtered by the merciless dark elves. Bruenor among them.
The goodly races of Icewind Dale came together to drive back the invaders. Drizzt remembered how bravely Regis had fought in that battle. The halfling had swung his little mace with a fire the drow ranger had only before seen in Bruenor and Wulfgar.
If only Regis had seen the priestess cast her fireball. If only the halfling could have heard Drizzt's cry of warning. If only Drizzt could have reached him soon enough. If only...
I got nothing left, just an empty heart...
Drizzt got to his feet and continued, having no idea where he was going. He would have cried had his eyes not been so dry that it hurt to blink. The ranger doubted he would ever cry again, his tears had been used up on his friends.
Wulfgar had been the next to fall. A huge, monster-of-a-drow that Drizzt had concluded to be one of the many descendants of the late Uthegental Del'Armgo had taken down the barbarian. In a show of strength, the drow had brought Wulfgar to his knees, something Wulfgar had done numerous times in the past. Had the fight been an honorable one, Wulfgar might have pushed the bigger drow back, but the fight had not been honorable.
How wide went Wulfgar's eyes as his opponent sank a hidden sword in his chest. How the barbarian had cried out in rage at the show of cowardice. Aegis-fang had appeared in the barbarian's hands. The drow fighting Wulfgar wailed in pain as the hammer beat him down. Then Wulfgar had fallen.
I'm a soldier, wounded so I must give up the fight...
The cries had rung loud in Drizzt's ears as he fought on. Then a burning in his pocket stole his attention. Guenhwyvar's figurine was burning. He still heard the panther's screams as the figurine shattered in his hands, shards of onyx flew in all directions. Then Guenhwyvar's cries ceased. Forever.
Rage had taken him then, pure, total, savage rage like none he had ever known before. Then the yochlol had shown itself. Woe to that handmaiden of Lloth for showing her evil face.
There's nothing more for me...
Drizzt knew pain again after the fall of the handmaiden. Pain in the form of a drow sword cutting through his side.
Drizzt had stumbled.
Drizzt had fallen.
Catti-brie was suddenly standing beside him as he lay against the stone, finishing off the drow that had struck him down.
Drizzt had given in to blackness.
When he came to again the battle was over. The drow had been eliminated. The clerics had healed his wounds, those that could be mended at least.
Lead me away...
Drizzt remembered watching them put his friends to rest. First Bruenor, then Regis, then Wulfgar, and finally Catti-brie, who had sacrificed her own life to save the drow she loved. How Drizzt had cried when he saw how badly hurt she was. When the clerics had told him her wounds. When he learned she had been found beside him. When she was laid to rest.
Guenhwyvar's figurine was gone completely. Not a single fragment of onyx could be found. It was as if the statuette had melting into the gray mist like Guenhwyvar herself.
Back in the present, Drizzt fell again. He whimpered slightly as he landed hard on his front, a sharp stone sticking him in the belly. His eyes burned and he wanted to weep, wanted to wail, wanted to die.
Or leave me lying here...
Drizzt felt under his tunic for the place where the rock had pierced his flesh. It was only a small cut, it would not kill him. The drow was disappointed. He got to his feet and kept walking. Snow fell from the sky and clung to his white hair. He sniffled as his nose started to run.
Sound the bugle now. Tell them I don't care...
A tundra yeti charged at him. Halfheartedly, the drow moved Twinkle, his elven made scimitar, between himself and the monster. The stupid beast impaled itself on the blue-glowing blade. Drizzt yanked his weapon free of the dead monster as it fell back and continued walking.
There's not a road I know that leads to anywhere...
More memories came back to Drizzt. Memories of fighting yeti with Catti-brie and Wulfgar. He closed his eyes in agony at the memories. The sun started to go down in the west. Drizzt walked away from it, into the night. He didn't want to see the sun again.
Without a light I fear that I will stumble in the dark...
Drizzt thought about Montolio, the old, blind ranger who had touched Drizzt's heart as only a friend could. Montolio had known Drizzt was a dark elf, had known the evil tales of the cruel drow and their awful ways. Yet he had taken Drizzt into his home and taught him to speak the common tongue. Montolio had died happily in his home of old age. Drizzt moved on.
Lay right down and decide not to go on...
Again, Drizzt fell. He found he did not want to rise up again. It all seemed so hopeless. Life was too painful. Everything hurt. He didn't want to go on. He wanted it all to end.
Then from on high...
" Drizzt," a voice called, " wake up." Drizzt lifted his head from the snow and stared out over the tundra.
" Who's there," the ranger asked.
Somewhere in the distance...
" It is me, my son," the voice called back, " you must get up."
" Why," Drizzt despaired, " there's nothing more for me."
" Remember who you are, Drizzt Do'Urden," Zaknafein's form materialized before him. The solid ghost stared at him with caring and loving eyes.
There's a voice that calls, " Remember who you are!"
" Father," Drizzt cried, struggling to his feet. Zaknafein smiled and continued to speak :
" If you lose yourself, your courage soon will follow, so be strong tonight..."
Drizzt fell into his father's arms. Zaknafein held his crying son against his chest and buried his face in Drizzt's hair.
" Remember who you are..."
" I am your son, Father," Drizzt cried, " that is who I am."
" That is WHAT you are Drizzt," Zak corrected, " who you are is Drizzt Do'Urden, a strong and noble ranger." Drizzt looked up into Zak's smiling face. " You have to go on, my son," the ghost began to fade, " eighty is too young for a dark elf to die."
" Father, please don't go!" Drizzt's lavender eyes streamed with tears.
" You're a soldier now, fighting in a battle..."
Zak was gone but Drizzt was determined to keep living. The ranger stood up straight and proud as his father would have wanted. Zak's voice drifted back to him.
" To be free once more..."
Drizzt somehow knew the next words and spoke them aloud with his father's voice.
" Yeah, that's worth fighting for."
Drizzt turned west and ran with all his heart. He ran to catch the sun.
The End
Oh that felt so good to write er type. (sniffles) Ah well until next time, feel free to flame. Why do I keep putting that there? Nobody ever flames me anyway. Why is that? Please, someone tell me why I haven't been flamed yet.
By Semdai Bloodquill
Disclaimer : Semdai - (yawns) Ah, another day of typing, thinking, and disregarding copyright laws. (stretches)
Semdai's Conscience - Who are you writing about today?
Semdai - Today I'm doing a songfic about Drizzt Do'Urden.
Semdai's Conscience - About what?
Semdai - (sarcastically) You're my conscience, don't you know?
Semdai's Conscience - (also sarcastically) I'm your conscience, not your brain.
Semdai - I wrote this following the song "Sound the Bugle"
Semdai's Conscience - (shocked) Sound the Bugle isn't your song!
Semdai - (defeated) I know it's Bryan Adams' from the movie "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron"
Semdai's Conscience - (sternly) And what about Drizzt?
Semdai - (with difficulty) Drizzy is... (gulp) NOT mine either.
Semdai's Conscience - That's a good girl.
Semdai - ARG! (attempts to strangle her conscience)
And now on with the fic!
Sound the Bugle now, play it just for me...
Drizzt's foot became entangled in something beneath the snow. The once graceful ranger toppled down the hill, rolling over several large rocks and badly jarring his sense of balance. He did not rise again at first, more from his pain than any loss of equilibrium.
As the seasons change, remember how I used to be...
He remembered times when he and Catti-brie had rolled down similar hills. But, they had laughed during those times. Drizzt did not laugh now. The ranger had not laughed for months now. Months that had been spent wandering aimlessly across the tundra.
More than ever now he felt alone in the unforgiving wasteland of Icewind Dale. His heart hurt and ached and burned with sadness and anger. His friends were gone and he was utterly alone.
Now I can't go on...
He reached into his pouch for the onyx figurine of Guenhwyvar. The figurine was not there. Then Drizzt remembered. The panther's figurine had been shattered by a yochlol in the battle with the fanatic drow elves.
The battle that had taken his friends.
I can't even start...
How vividly Drizzt remembered that battle. Scores of kobolds and goblins had surged like water at the ranks of dwarves. The dwarves had cut down the fodder easily. But then the dark elves had come. Like a black plague, the drow came by the hundreds. The dwarves were slaughtered by the merciless dark elves. Bruenor among them.
The goodly races of Icewind Dale came together to drive back the invaders. Drizzt remembered how bravely Regis had fought in that battle. The halfling had swung his little mace with a fire the drow ranger had only before seen in Bruenor and Wulfgar.
If only Regis had seen the priestess cast her fireball. If only the halfling could have heard Drizzt's cry of warning. If only Drizzt could have reached him soon enough. If only...
I got nothing left, just an empty heart...
Drizzt got to his feet and continued, having no idea where he was going. He would have cried had his eyes not been so dry that it hurt to blink. The ranger doubted he would ever cry again, his tears had been used up on his friends.
Wulfgar had been the next to fall. A huge, monster-of-a-drow that Drizzt had concluded to be one of the many descendants of the late Uthegental Del'Armgo had taken down the barbarian. In a show of strength, the drow had brought Wulfgar to his knees, something Wulfgar had done numerous times in the past. Had the fight been an honorable one, Wulfgar might have pushed the bigger drow back, but the fight had not been honorable.
How wide went Wulfgar's eyes as his opponent sank a hidden sword in his chest. How the barbarian had cried out in rage at the show of cowardice. Aegis-fang had appeared in the barbarian's hands. The drow fighting Wulfgar wailed in pain as the hammer beat him down. Then Wulfgar had fallen.
I'm a soldier, wounded so I must give up the fight...
The cries had rung loud in Drizzt's ears as he fought on. Then a burning in his pocket stole his attention. Guenhwyvar's figurine was burning. He still heard the panther's screams as the figurine shattered in his hands, shards of onyx flew in all directions. Then Guenhwyvar's cries ceased. Forever.
Rage had taken him then, pure, total, savage rage like none he had ever known before. Then the yochlol had shown itself. Woe to that handmaiden of Lloth for showing her evil face.
There's nothing more for me...
Drizzt knew pain again after the fall of the handmaiden. Pain in the form of a drow sword cutting through his side.
Drizzt had stumbled.
Drizzt had fallen.
Catti-brie was suddenly standing beside him as he lay against the stone, finishing off the drow that had struck him down.
Drizzt had given in to blackness.
When he came to again the battle was over. The drow had been eliminated. The clerics had healed his wounds, those that could be mended at least.
Lead me away...
Drizzt remembered watching them put his friends to rest. First Bruenor, then Regis, then Wulfgar, and finally Catti-brie, who had sacrificed her own life to save the drow she loved. How Drizzt had cried when he saw how badly hurt she was. When the clerics had told him her wounds. When he learned she had been found beside him. When she was laid to rest.
Guenhwyvar's figurine was gone completely. Not a single fragment of onyx could be found. It was as if the statuette had melting into the gray mist like Guenhwyvar herself.
Back in the present, Drizzt fell again. He whimpered slightly as he landed hard on his front, a sharp stone sticking him in the belly. His eyes burned and he wanted to weep, wanted to wail, wanted to die.
Or leave me lying here...
Drizzt felt under his tunic for the place where the rock had pierced his flesh. It was only a small cut, it would not kill him. The drow was disappointed. He got to his feet and kept walking. Snow fell from the sky and clung to his white hair. He sniffled as his nose started to run.
Sound the bugle now. Tell them I don't care...
A tundra yeti charged at him. Halfheartedly, the drow moved Twinkle, his elven made scimitar, between himself and the monster. The stupid beast impaled itself on the blue-glowing blade. Drizzt yanked his weapon free of the dead monster as it fell back and continued walking.
There's not a road I know that leads to anywhere...
More memories came back to Drizzt. Memories of fighting yeti with Catti-brie and Wulfgar. He closed his eyes in agony at the memories. The sun started to go down in the west. Drizzt walked away from it, into the night. He didn't want to see the sun again.
Without a light I fear that I will stumble in the dark...
Drizzt thought about Montolio, the old, blind ranger who had touched Drizzt's heart as only a friend could. Montolio had known Drizzt was a dark elf, had known the evil tales of the cruel drow and their awful ways. Yet he had taken Drizzt into his home and taught him to speak the common tongue. Montolio had died happily in his home of old age. Drizzt moved on.
Lay right down and decide not to go on...
Again, Drizzt fell. He found he did not want to rise up again. It all seemed so hopeless. Life was too painful. Everything hurt. He didn't want to go on. He wanted it all to end.
Then from on high...
" Drizzt," a voice called, " wake up." Drizzt lifted his head from the snow and stared out over the tundra.
" Who's there," the ranger asked.
Somewhere in the distance...
" It is me, my son," the voice called back, " you must get up."
" Why," Drizzt despaired, " there's nothing more for me."
" Remember who you are, Drizzt Do'Urden," Zaknafein's form materialized before him. The solid ghost stared at him with caring and loving eyes.
There's a voice that calls, " Remember who you are!"
" Father," Drizzt cried, struggling to his feet. Zaknafein smiled and continued to speak :
" If you lose yourself, your courage soon will follow, so be strong tonight..."
Drizzt fell into his father's arms. Zaknafein held his crying son against his chest and buried his face in Drizzt's hair.
" Remember who you are..."
" I am your son, Father," Drizzt cried, " that is who I am."
" That is WHAT you are Drizzt," Zak corrected, " who you are is Drizzt Do'Urden, a strong and noble ranger." Drizzt looked up into Zak's smiling face. " You have to go on, my son," the ghost began to fade, " eighty is too young for a dark elf to die."
" Father, please don't go!" Drizzt's lavender eyes streamed with tears.
" You're a soldier now, fighting in a battle..."
Zak was gone but Drizzt was determined to keep living. The ranger stood up straight and proud as his father would have wanted. Zak's voice drifted back to him.
" To be free once more..."
Drizzt somehow knew the next words and spoke them aloud with his father's voice.
" Yeah, that's worth fighting for."
Drizzt turned west and ran with all his heart. He ran to catch the sun.
The End
Oh that felt so good to write er type. (sniffles) Ah well until next time, feel free to flame. Why do I keep putting that there? Nobody ever flames me anyway. Why is that? Please, someone tell me why I haven't been flamed yet.