Chapter 2: Dawning Brotherhood
The next morning, Drizzt, Montolio, and Solonund were up early clearing out the bodies of the dead orcs. They did not bother to bury them. They wanted to make sure that the bodies were far enough from the grove as to not attract unwanted predators, and Montolio wanted to make sure they were far enough downwind to not upset Solonund's nose. Montolio carefully picked out the traps, in case they would need them at a later time.
Once they had finished the dirty work, Solonund paused and circled around to the eastern edge of the grove and sat facing a small maple tree. Drizzt thought this odd, but he considered that it might be the way Solonund composed himself after grim work.
"Drizzt," Montolio asked," what did you two talk about last evening? Solonund seems very sullen."
"He told me about his childhood, his mother, and you."
"Ah," Montolio sighed," perhaps he has grown up some in the last eight years. That explains why he went to the small maple on that cairn on the east side, but I feel like there is something else, something he is not saying."
"Why would he go to that maple when he talks about his past?"
"He wants to talk to his mother. Willwaren is buried there. That is another reason I came to this grove," Montolio said in a quiet tone," I wanted to be near her. Meilikki guided us here. She wanted Willwaren, who loved Meilikki like a mother, to be buried in this grove."
"Solonund said something about worshipping a god called Solonor, for whom he was named."
"Solonund is complicated, Drizzt. The first years of his life, he was brutalized by his father, but it goes farther than that. Kordon was the most evil, corrupt wild elf on the face of Toril. He preached that animals had no souls, so Solonund and his mother were not allowed to worship anything in his presence. With no good parent figures to rely on before he and his mother escaped, His concept of the gods was like that of parent figures he was denied. He sees Solonor Thelandria as his god-father, and Meilikki as his goddess-mother. He reveres them both. It does not bother either of the deities. Both deities have almost the exact same outlook on life."
"I see, " Drizzt said, "perhaps having Zaknafein's strength helped save me from such a fate."
"Perhaps the reason you are here is because your father chose to stay with you, instead of leaving the Underdark to pursue his own happiness. Never forget the good he did for you, Drizzt. Solonund never forgets his mother's courage," Montolio said as he headed back towards the home.
Drizzt fingered the small figurine in his pocket. Normally he would have given her more time to rest, but he knew Guenhwyvar would understand when she saw Solonund.
Guenhwyvar padded slowly around in front of Solonund.
"Hello, pretty one," Solonund said with a hint of seduction to his voice.
Guenhwyvar took that as a hint to plop down on Solonund's lap. Solonund patted the panther, cooed at her, and giggled like a small child at the chance to thank her. Drizzt came up slowly behind the two.
"You smell like Orc dung."
"Drizzt, that is not a nice thing to say to me."
"Well you do. You need a bath, and so do I. We both smell like Orc dung. Lets go wash up."
"Brrr, do you know how cold the water in that river is?"
"It is not so cold, it is refreshing, and better than smelling like orc."
Drizzt, Guenhwyvar, and Solonund found the spot in the river where a somewhat shallow pool had formed. The bath was more like play than cleaning, each taking turns jumping in, climbing out, and splashing each other. At one point, Solonund dived down to grab Drizzt by the legs and trip him under, but Drizzt caught on to the scheme and grabbed Solonund by the feet. Solonund quickly surrendered. After about an hour of their roughhousing. Drizzt sent Guenhwyvar back to her plane. The two young men dried off and headed back to the home with their wet clothing in their hands.
" I knew you two would show up back here soaking wet," Montolio said with bemusement, "Good thing too. You both stank."
"Father!" Solonund started.
"It is true, Solonund, we both smelled like dead orc," Drizzt finished.
"I have a line up near the fireplace where you can hang your wet clothes. Now, Solonund, it is about time you tell me what you have been doing in the last eight years."
"I have been traveling and adventuring, of course."
"Son, I want you to be more specific. None of us know when you will catch the wanderlust again. I want to hear a story of your travels."
"Well, I did promise Drizzt that I would tell him how I learned the Drow language."
"No, you promised me you would tell me about your travels to the Underdark."
"Of course, Drizzt, but first things first. I learned the language first. You see there was this beautiful dark girl who worshipped Eilliastraee..."
Montolio ran a hand through his hair," Don't tell me you have spent the last eight years chasing girls."
"Well, no, not really, but that did usually cause the journey to start. After all, I may not be the best looking elf on Faerun, but when I treat the ladies like queens, no matter their life's station, they melt right into my arms."
"Son, that kind of thing is going to cause you trouble and pain if you keep that sort of thing up."
"I doubt it father, you know quite well I am cursed. I can never fully give my soul over to a lover. Kordon made sure of that."
"I hope one day you can prove yourself wrong, now back to the story."
Drizzt listened intently as Solonund weaved the wild tale of how he befriended a Drow worshipper of Eilliastraee rescue her sister from the depravity of Sith Morcaine. Solonund made such dramatic gestures and tones in his telling, that made Drizzt wonder how much of it was true, and how much of it was made up. Especially when he spoke of how well he disguised himself as a Drow male.
Once Solonund finished his tale, he decided that he was going to go find something for dinner, and swiftly left the home with a spring in his step.
"Mooshie, how much of that do you think was true?"
"From his bravado, much of it, but he only told us the good parts of the story. Solonund hides his sorrow with bravado, unlike you. You hide it in a more somber manner. "
"One thing about the story I doubt is how he was disguised so well to fool any there who looked at him. His skin is much too light."
"Oh, yes, he left out the part how. That is another ability that he inherited from Kordon. He doesn't like to mention it too often. I will let him show you how he did it."
*********
Montolio often woke to the sound of the clanging of metal and wood as Drizzt And Solonund sparred with each other. Solonund's bowman ship had become amazingly better over the years. Solonund was firing arrows at Drizzt to dodge or parry away. He was firing off four arrows at once with keen accuracy that morning. Montolio decided to get some herbs ready. He had no doubt that one of the boys would be cut up by the time they came inside. Montolio at first thought it would be Solonund who got scraped up worse, but from the scattering around Drizzt was doing, it could easily be Drizzt who got hurt more badly.
"Solonund, why don't you pull out that sword and spar with it for once. I am getting tired of dodging arrows."
"Because, Drizzt, I promised not to pull it out of its scabbard until I told the story of how I earned it. I haven't gotten that far yet."
"You're stalling."
"Maybe I am. That swords holds many tears. The volume of tears it holds engulfs the amount of blood it has spilt."
"It is time for a break, Solonund. I have something I have been meaning to ask..."
"Ask away."
"You have often told of your disguises in your colorful tales, Mooshie told me that it was a talent you inherited from Kordon's race, much like Drow naturally learn how to cast globes of darkness or faerie fire."
"I suppose," Solonund said, " Seeing it that way doesn't make me feel so embarrassed about talking about it. Its called spirit tattoo. Give me a few minutes to gather what I need."
Drizzt sat on the grass and watched as Solonund went around gathering various herbs from around the grove. Once satisfied with the contents of his gathering, Solonund sat next to Drizzt and pulled out a small mortar and pestle from one of his pockets. Solonund grinded the plants to a pitch-like consistency. A short breeze picked up, blowing some of Drizzt's hair. Before Drizzt could completely pull his hair back into place, Solonund plucked a single white hair from Drizzt's head.
"Ow. What is that for?"
"You will see," Solonund replied with a twinkle in his eye as he added the hair to the mix.
Solonund pulled a small paintbrush from the same pocket that held the mortar and pestle. He dipped the tip carefully into the herb paste. When the brush tip was saturated, he took a deep breath and began to draw on his left arm. His breathing became slow and regular as the runes formed on his arm. He placed the brush down and closed his eyes. He lifted his left arm slightly and turned his left hand palm down, as he put his right hand , beneath, palm up, parallel with his left hand. Solonund's breathing slowed even more to the point that Drizzt thought Solonund was not breathing at all. A trickle of light flowed down from Solonund's left hand into his right. He took the light and carefully poured it onto the runes on his left arm. He then inhaled sharply as the runes took on a glow.
Drizzt jumped up quickly. He blinked as he looked at the elf that was sitting on the ground. Solonund had turned physically into a perfect copy of Drizzt .
"What's the matter Drizzt? You didn't realize you were this handsome did you? Well, you are not as good looking as me, but the gods will forgive you for that." Solonund's voice rang out from the false Drizzt.
"Nine Hells!" Drizzt shouted," Can all of the wild elves do that?"
"Most can, but prefer not to. It is rather draining. I can project an image around myself of anything roughly my size. I thought of making myself look like Guen, but I thought that would be going a bit too far. This is only an illusion. Although I look like you Drizzt, I gain none of your knowledge or skills or even your voice. I would make Guen look silly walking around on two feet."
"Incredible."
"I think the same thing whenever you drop a globe of darkness around me," Solonund said as he brought his left palm up below his down turned right palm. The light flowed and Solonund clapped his hands. The illusion disappeared."
"I can understand why you are hesitant to talk about that ability."
"Kordon was a master of spirit tattoo. His desire to master it to its fullest is what drove him and his tribe into the arms of an evil god."
"Which god was that?"
"Malar."
"Forgive me, but I am not well versed in the gods of the surface."
"A tyrant with a black heart. Mother told me that Malar promised Kordon absolute power over the elves. She suspected that his domination of her had something to do with that plan, but was never sure. That is why Meilikki wanted mother here. So she would be safe from Kordon."
"Kordon is dead, how can he harm her any more," Drizzt said shakily as he thought of how his father was raised from the dead to murder him.
"Kordon is undead, a litch. I am certain Kordon would try to turn mother into an undead abomination if she were not here in this grove. My blade has tasted the blood of many a priest of Malar to avenge my sister, my mother, and all that Kordon made suffer."
"Does Kordon pursue you?"
"I am not sure. He never had any interest in me. If I had left the tribe without my mother, he would have never followed. To him, I am still only a dog. My sword, however, he may be seeking."
"Will you tell your tale of the sword tonight?"
Solonund got a sad look on his face as he said," yes."
*********
The next morning, Drizzt, Montolio, and Solonund were up early clearing out the bodies of the dead orcs. They did not bother to bury them. They wanted to make sure that the bodies were far enough from the grove as to not attract unwanted predators, and Montolio wanted to make sure they were far enough downwind to not upset Solonund's nose. Montolio carefully picked out the traps, in case they would need them at a later time.
Once they had finished the dirty work, Solonund paused and circled around to the eastern edge of the grove and sat facing a small maple tree. Drizzt thought this odd, but he considered that it might be the way Solonund composed himself after grim work.
"Drizzt," Montolio asked," what did you two talk about last evening? Solonund seems very sullen."
"He told me about his childhood, his mother, and you."
"Ah," Montolio sighed," perhaps he has grown up some in the last eight years. That explains why he went to the small maple on that cairn on the east side, but I feel like there is something else, something he is not saying."
"Why would he go to that maple when he talks about his past?"
"He wants to talk to his mother. Willwaren is buried there. That is another reason I came to this grove," Montolio said in a quiet tone," I wanted to be near her. Meilikki guided us here. She wanted Willwaren, who loved Meilikki like a mother, to be buried in this grove."
"Solonund said something about worshipping a god called Solonor, for whom he was named."
"Solonund is complicated, Drizzt. The first years of his life, he was brutalized by his father, but it goes farther than that. Kordon was the most evil, corrupt wild elf on the face of Toril. He preached that animals had no souls, so Solonund and his mother were not allowed to worship anything in his presence. With no good parent figures to rely on before he and his mother escaped, His concept of the gods was like that of parent figures he was denied. He sees Solonor Thelandria as his god-father, and Meilikki as his goddess-mother. He reveres them both. It does not bother either of the deities. Both deities have almost the exact same outlook on life."
"I see, " Drizzt said, "perhaps having Zaknafein's strength helped save me from such a fate."
"Perhaps the reason you are here is because your father chose to stay with you, instead of leaving the Underdark to pursue his own happiness. Never forget the good he did for you, Drizzt. Solonund never forgets his mother's courage," Montolio said as he headed back towards the home.
Drizzt fingered the small figurine in his pocket. Normally he would have given her more time to rest, but he knew Guenhwyvar would understand when she saw Solonund.
Guenhwyvar padded slowly around in front of Solonund.
"Hello, pretty one," Solonund said with a hint of seduction to his voice.
Guenhwyvar took that as a hint to plop down on Solonund's lap. Solonund patted the panther, cooed at her, and giggled like a small child at the chance to thank her. Drizzt came up slowly behind the two.
"You smell like Orc dung."
"Drizzt, that is not a nice thing to say to me."
"Well you do. You need a bath, and so do I. We both smell like Orc dung. Lets go wash up."
"Brrr, do you know how cold the water in that river is?"
"It is not so cold, it is refreshing, and better than smelling like orc."
Drizzt, Guenhwyvar, and Solonund found the spot in the river where a somewhat shallow pool had formed. The bath was more like play than cleaning, each taking turns jumping in, climbing out, and splashing each other. At one point, Solonund dived down to grab Drizzt by the legs and trip him under, but Drizzt caught on to the scheme and grabbed Solonund by the feet. Solonund quickly surrendered. After about an hour of their roughhousing. Drizzt sent Guenhwyvar back to her plane. The two young men dried off and headed back to the home with their wet clothing in their hands.
" I knew you two would show up back here soaking wet," Montolio said with bemusement, "Good thing too. You both stank."
"Father!" Solonund started.
"It is true, Solonund, we both smelled like dead orc," Drizzt finished.
"I have a line up near the fireplace where you can hang your wet clothes. Now, Solonund, it is about time you tell me what you have been doing in the last eight years."
"I have been traveling and adventuring, of course."
"Son, I want you to be more specific. None of us know when you will catch the wanderlust again. I want to hear a story of your travels."
"Well, I did promise Drizzt that I would tell him how I learned the Drow language."
"No, you promised me you would tell me about your travels to the Underdark."
"Of course, Drizzt, but first things first. I learned the language first. You see there was this beautiful dark girl who worshipped Eilliastraee..."
Montolio ran a hand through his hair," Don't tell me you have spent the last eight years chasing girls."
"Well, no, not really, but that did usually cause the journey to start. After all, I may not be the best looking elf on Faerun, but when I treat the ladies like queens, no matter their life's station, they melt right into my arms."
"Son, that kind of thing is going to cause you trouble and pain if you keep that sort of thing up."
"I doubt it father, you know quite well I am cursed. I can never fully give my soul over to a lover. Kordon made sure of that."
"I hope one day you can prove yourself wrong, now back to the story."
Drizzt listened intently as Solonund weaved the wild tale of how he befriended a Drow worshipper of Eilliastraee rescue her sister from the depravity of Sith Morcaine. Solonund made such dramatic gestures and tones in his telling, that made Drizzt wonder how much of it was true, and how much of it was made up. Especially when he spoke of how well he disguised himself as a Drow male.
Once Solonund finished his tale, he decided that he was going to go find something for dinner, and swiftly left the home with a spring in his step.
"Mooshie, how much of that do you think was true?"
"From his bravado, much of it, but he only told us the good parts of the story. Solonund hides his sorrow with bravado, unlike you. You hide it in a more somber manner. "
"One thing about the story I doubt is how he was disguised so well to fool any there who looked at him. His skin is much too light."
"Oh, yes, he left out the part how. That is another ability that he inherited from Kordon. He doesn't like to mention it too often. I will let him show you how he did it."
*********
Montolio often woke to the sound of the clanging of metal and wood as Drizzt And Solonund sparred with each other. Solonund's bowman ship had become amazingly better over the years. Solonund was firing arrows at Drizzt to dodge or parry away. He was firing off four arrows at once with keen accuracy that morning. Montolio decided to get some herbs ready. He had no doubt that one of the boys would be cut up by the time they came inside. Montolio at first thought it would be Solonund who got scraped up worse, but from the scattering around Drizzt was doing, it could easily be Drizzt who got hurt more badly.
"Solonund, why don't you pull out that sword and spar with it for once. I am getting tired of dodging arrows."
"Because, Drizzt, I promised not to pull it out of its scabbard until I told the story of how I earned it. I haven't gotten that far yet."
"You're stalling."
"Maybe I am. That swords holds many tears. The volume of tears it holds engulfs the amount of blood it has spilt."
"It is time for a break, Solonund. I have something I have been meaning to ask..."
"Ask away."
"You have often told of your disguises in your colorful tales, Mooshie told me that it was a talent you inherited from Kordon's race, much like Drow naturally learn how to cast globes of darkness or faerie fire."
"I suppose," Solonund said, " Seeing it that way doesn't make me feel so embarrassed about talking about it. Its called spirit tattoo. Give me a few minutes to gather what I need."
Drizzt sat on the grass and watched as Solonund went around gathering various herbs from around the grove. Once satisfied with the contents of his gathering, Solonund sat next to Drizzt and pulled out a small mortar and pestle from one of his pockets. Solonund grinded the plants to a pitch-like consistency. A short breeze picked up, blowing some of Drizzt's hair. Before Drizzt could completely pull his hair back into place, Solonund plucked a single white hair from Drizzt's head.
"Ow. What is that for?"
"You will see," Solonund replied with a twinkle in his eye as he added the hair to the mix.
Solonund pulled a small paintbrush from the same pocket that held the mortar and pestle. He dipped the tip carefully into the herb paste. When the brush tip was saturated, he took a deep breath and began to draw on his left arm. His breathing became slow and regular as the runes formed on his arm. He placed the brush down and closed his eyes. He lifted his left arm slightly and turned his left hand palm down, as he put his right hand , beneath, palm up, parallel with his left hand. Solonund's breathing slowed even more to the point that Drizzt thought Solonund was not breathing at all. A trickle of light flowed down from Solonund's left hand into his right. He took the light and carefully poured it onto the runes on his left arm. He then inhaled sharply as the runes took on a glow.
Drizzt jumped up quickly. He blinked as he looked at the elf that was sitting on the ground. Solonund had turned physically into a perfect copy of Drizzt .
"What's the matter Drizzt? You didn't realize you were this handsome did you? Well, you are not as good looking as me, but the gods will forgive you for that." Solonund's voice rang out from the false Drizzt.
"Nine Hells!" Drizzt shouted," Can all of the wild elves do that?"
"Most can, but prefer not to. It is rather draining. I can project an image around myself of anything roughly my size. I thought of making myself look like Guen, but I thought that would be going a bit too far. This is only an illusion. Although I look like you Drizzt, I gain none of your knowledge or skills or even your voice. I would make Guen look silly walking around on two feet."
"Incredible."
"I think the same thing whenever you drop a globe of darkness around me," Solonund said as he brought his left palm up below his down turned right palm. The light flowed and Solonund clapped his hands. The illusion disappeared."
"I can understand why you are hesitant to talk about that ability."
"Kordon was a master of spirit tattoo. His desire to master it to its fullest is what drove him and his tribe into the arms of an evil god."
"Which god was that?"
"Malar."
"Forgive me, but I am not well versed in the gods of the surface."
"A tyrant with a black heart. Mother told me that Malar promised Kordon absolute power over the elves. She suspected that his domination of her had something to do with that plan, but was never sure. That is why Meilikki wanted mother here. So she would be safe from Kordon."
"Kordon is dead, how can he harm her any more," Drizzt said shakily as he thought of how his father was raised from the dead to murder him.
"Kordon is undead, a litch. I am certain Kordon would try to turn mother into an undead abomination if she were not here in this grove. My blade has tasted the blood of many a priest of Malar to avenge my sister, my mother, and all that Kordon made suffer."
"Does Kordon pursue you?"
"I am not sure. He never had any interest in me. If I had left the tribe without my mother, he would have never followed. To him, I am still only a dog. My sword, however, he may be seeking."
"Will you tell your tale of the sword tonight?"
Solonund got a sad look on his face as he said," yes."
*********
