They were many days out of Silverymoon, making for Waterdeep at a brisk pace. The horses had certainly made travel much easier. But as they trotted along, keeping the treeline of the High Forest to the south, everyone grew tense in the shadow of that forest.
Dinin had little experience on the surface, but he could sense the mood of the rest of the company. He shifted in his saddle, feeling annoyed at the awkward position and his iron shackled wrists. His horse trotted along its path, a rope fastened to Drizzt's steed as his brother kept him in sight.
Dinin had never been on a horse before and he found he much preferred the subterranean lizards that he used as mounts back in Menzoberranzan. They were agile and could scurry up walls and ceilings. But here, on the surface, Dinin had to make do with this strange beast he found himself on.
Dinin never thought it possible that he would lower himself to be in the same company as a surface elf. Just feeling the elf's presence beside him as Legolas and Drizzt flanked him made him want to kill something, and he could barely keep back his rage.
So, instead, he decided to take out his frustrations on Drizzt.
"Remember our raid to the surface, brother?" he commented as they trotted along. Drizzt visibly cringed and Catti-brie, who trotted along on Drizzt's other side, Ky'lor visible just beyond her, turned to regard the brothers.
"Oh yes, we were certainly triumphant that glorious night," Dinin continued casually, speaking loud enough for Legolas to hear. The blonde-haired ranger regarded him wearily.
"I have no desire to speak about that night," Drizzt warned, trying to trot his horse ahead of Dinin. But with their steeds connected by a rope, Dinin easily kept pace with him and continued.
"In the glorious service of Lolth we came upon the vile elves in their villages as they sang their songs and slaughtered them unmercifully," Dinin proclaimed. He heard Legolas take a breath beside him, the elf no doubt horrified by such an atrocity and the casual manner in which Dinin bragged about it.
Drizzt pulled his horse to an abrupt halt then and turned around to face his brother, rage plainly etched in his dark features. Dinin only chuckled, getting the reaction he was hoping for. Of course he knew the elf massacre was a source of past trauma for Drizzt, and the callous way Dinin taunted him about it was having the effect he desired.
"Drizzt," Catti-brie trotted up and reached over, putting a hand on Drizzt's arm as the drow put a hand on the hilt of his scimitar. Dinin understood how close he was to danger, provoking his brother into a confrontation.
But perhaps Dinin wanted Drizzt to kill him in a fit of rage. After all, what else did he have to live for? And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to prove to his brother that he wasn't as infallible as he wanted to believe. That he could be driven to murder just like any other evil Lolth worshipping drow. Drizzt was no different than Dinin, the older brother had to believe.
"He's just trying to get a fight out of ye," Catti-brie insisted, tugging on Drizzt's shoulder. Drizzt took a deep breath and visibly relaxed at the woman's touch. Dinin growled.
Legolas trotted up to them now, a horrified look on his face as he glanced between the two brothers. "Is this true?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at Drizzt.
"I have no desire to discuss it," Drizzt growled before turning his attention to their surroundings. The sun was setting at the end of another long day of travel.
Drizzt slid off his horse and approached his brother, grabbing him and wrenching him off his saddle. The older drow grunted and scrambled to his feet, stumbling as his iron bound wrists made it hard to balance. The brothers faced off as Drizzt grabbed him roughly by the collar of his tunic and pulled him up, their faces inches from one another.
"It would be to your benefit if you never mention that incident again," Drizzt warned, his voice low and dangerous.
"I would imagine the incident is etched in your memory, isn't it, little brother?" Dinin taunted with a smirk, though he held back, sensing the volatile emotions simmering in those lavender eyes.
"We are to camp here for the night," Dinin's brother explained slowly. "Though I do not relish the idea of camping so close to the border of the High Forest. But the horses require rest. It would be to your benefit if you go gather the firewood. I have no desire for you to be anywhere in my sight right now."
Dinin lifted his bound wrists as he raised a brow. "And how am I to carry the wood back?" he asked innocently.
Drizzt sighed and pulled the key from his pocket, and handed him one small dagger. "Go into the forest and get the wood, but do not go too far into the woods," he demanded as he unlocked Dinin's shackles. "And be warned. Fell things live within that forest, countless creatures that will happily feast on drow flesh. Consider that before you think about running off or betraying us."
Dinin frowned as Drizzt stepped back, revealing the foreboding treeline of the forest about 50 yards behind him. The older drow considered his options. He was free, but Drizzt still had his sword and crossbow and he wouldn't get far with this small dagger. And now that he was unshackled, he found he had no desire to get away. After all, where would he go? He knew nothing about the forest and understood that he depended on Drizzt for that knowledge. He had no particular desire to enter that ominous forest, not having any idea what might live there.
But reluctantly, he brushed past Drizzt and made his way to the tree line. As he approached, he took one glance behind him. Drizzt moved to make camp, Catti-brie and Ky'lor helped secure the horses while Legolas helped Drizzt dig the fire pit.
Even from this distance, Dinin could see the tension between Drizzt and Legolas. He realized that his relapse into the memory of the elf massacre had sown some tension between Drizzt and his elven friend. And he knew he had hurt Drizzt with that painful recollection. After all, the elf massacre was Drizzt's wake up call to how evil the followers of Lolth really were. And that incident helped to bring about Zaknafein's sacrifice, as well as the fall of House Do'Urden and the beginning of Drizzt's exile from Menzoberranzan.
Dinin entered the forest, pushing past the treeline, and instantly the scenery changed. The world was dark. Though the sun had already begun to set, the forest canopy shut out much of the light, casting the world below in eternal shadow.
Dinin allowed his eyes to shift into infravision as he cautiously moved through the trees, silently and nimbly.
The drow tried to be cautious of his surroundings, but his emotions distracted him as he absentmindedly put the dagger on his belt and gathered twigs and wood. He felt angry. Angry at everyone. At Drizzt, at the elves, at Menzoberranzan. No one understood what it was like to be Dinin Do'Urden. No one understood what he had gone through.
He understood he was relishing in self pity and his own woes, but he didn't care. All his life, he had strived to be what everyone expected of him. He did his mother's bidding, tried to be a good servant of Lolth. He stood by while his mother's obsessions and ambitions helped bring about his own destruction. He had found himself a homeless rogue in the service of Jarlaxle. Then, the one time he attempted to voice his opinion, to protest his own involvement in the schemes around him, knowing he was only a pawn, Vierna had turned him into a drider!
Dinin had lived in the shadow of Drizzt since his purple eyed brother had been born. Dinin was the elder boy- elder because he had killed his own brother to get that position- and yet he had to take a back seat to Zaknafein and Zaknafein's son. He watched as Drizzt excelled at the academy, something he wasn't able to do despite being trained by Zaknafein as well. He felt inferior.
And perhaps he was jealous of the relationship Drizzt had with Zaknafein. After all, Dinin's own father, Rizzen Do'Urden, was a broken, pathetic thing and had become that long before Dinin had been born. He learned to be submissive to Malice, never putting up a fight even when she and her daughters abused him. They'd beat him, throw him in the dungeon, subject him to fear tactics and threats and he had been so beaten and broken that he offered no resistance.
And Dinin was no different. He was used to seeing his own father abused and tormented. He thought his own father was a coward. But had Dinin been any different? He blindly did whatever Malice or his sisters asked of him and feared their retaliation.
But it was Drizzt's actions and the actions of his mother and sister that brought Dinin to ruin. And here he was on the surface and once again in the shadow of his younger brother as Drizzt hurried off in pursuit of Zaknafien. Dinin came to realize he would have never done the same for Rizzen. After all, he did nothing 30 years ago when he watched Zaknafein under the influence of Malice's zin-carla brutally murder Rizzen right in front of him.
He felt shame at that memory and at that moment, he thought about running. He thought about killing them all. But where would that get him? Dinin had never felt so alone and so trapped in all his life. But in truth, had he ever been free? He thought of Regis, the halfling who had brought up all those emotions. Jealousy, hurt, pain, anger. Why did the Halfling care so much about what happened to a houseless wretch like Dinin? And could Dinin ever change? Could he learn to be like Drizzt? Could he learn how to not be a ruthless killer? After all, that's what he had always been. A ruthless killer without a soul, and a pawn in the schemes of other drow. How could he be anything else?
He was so engrossed in his own laments, in wallowing in his own despair, that he didn't even notice that the forest had gone so deathly silent. But as he began to tune back into his surroundings he felt a presence. Whirling, he gasped as a shadow hurled towards him. He tried to draw the dagger but never got a chance.
What impacted him came in so fast, he didn't have a chance to do anything other than throw the wood he carried to the floor. It's flesh was grey, it resembled some sort of human, hunched over with mottled grey skin and soulless glowing eyes.
But as Dinin scrambled backwards, tried to move, the creature's attack came in fast. A claw drove into the drow's abdomen and searing pain overwhelmed him as he barrelled over and fell onto his back. There was a flash of light and then pain unlike anything he had ever felt as energy seized his muscles and bones, as something resembling electrical currents pulsed through him.
Dinin let out a blood curdling scream that shook the very treetops as the hideous creature dug into him. He found he couldn't get his limbs to move as the creature- a hideous ghoul- closed in on its prey. Was this how he was finally going to die?