Chapter 6: Beginning to the End
A/N: Had trouble coming up with a chapter title...any better ideas?
The gloom of morning dissipated as the bright sun beams broke through the fog. The lone
dark elf ran through the forest, leaping over fallen logs - avoiding any obstacles that could
slow his constant pace.
His ebony face void of expression, he noted the suns rising with interest. The symbol of
his life before, the elation he had felt looking upon that sight on the first day he stepped
onto the surface world.
A brief pause.
A single tear shed from his eye as a ray slipped through the forest branches, lighting his
face for a mere moment before the sun continued to rise up again into the sky over
Faerun.
Shadows descended once again upon his face. Angry at the moisture running slowly
down his cheek Drizzt shock his head violently from it's nostalgic state.
Instead he focused on the situation at hand. Pointed ears listened in the quiet, still woods.
Amongst the random noises of wildlife he heard his prey, ever on his track. Yet, giants
could only move so fast and they were far from catching up to the swift elf.
Or, is that what he wanted? Pondering this thought, Drizzt realized -and had for some
time- that the living companionship (besides Guenhwyvar) he had now was in the brief
time before the kill.
The moment when his heart raced, the Hunter inside him swelling in joy. Parrying,
striking, attacking...fierce battle against a foe that deserved to be removed from the lands.
The fire lit anew in his lavender eyes.
Perhaps he would slow his pace, perhaps he would find the companionship - short lived as
it may be - very soon.
******
"Wulfgar!"
The barbarian wheeled around setting his strong legs and grasping his war hammer just in
time to swing at the orc inches from his back. Covered with countless small wounds from
the previous battle and blood -his and that of his enemies- coated his entire body.
Weariness that would drop any other human to the ground was fought off with a grimace
set on his unshaven face.
After the smelly creature fell to the ground, gasping some last words in his rough orcish
language, Wulfgar spared a glance to his female companion kneeling on a rock summit
above him.
He sent a silent thanks to Catti-brie for the warning that saved him another wound in the
back. Determined, he started to strut over to the next enemy.
A silver streak flashed in front of him, blinding his blue eyes before impaling itself in the
orc. Surprised at first but then relieved, Wulfgar lowered his war hammer.
"Good shooting," he murmured admirably as Catti-Brie sprang down from her shooting
post to join him.
Auburn hair falling in slight curls around the human's face, her green eyes glanced around
at the forest clearing. It was littered with orc bodies (she counted 10).
Some lay with an arrow from Heartseeker embedded in their flesh while others were
clearly smashed by the strength of either the war hammer or Wulfgar's fist.
"Is there anywhere in the realms not infested with these creatures?" The question was not
meant to be answered but Wulfgar still noted the venom of the last word, contempt and
almost, just almost, a sense of hopelessness in her accented voice.
"Come on. Let's find us some food and head back to the camp, I don't want to stray
from..." his deep voice caught in his throat.
"I know." A solemn and understanding voice interrupted him. The two adopted children
of Bruenor, King of Mithrall Hall, moved on.
******
"He won't last long."
"Please...try harder. He can't...he can't..." Regis was headed near a state of panic. A fine
sheen of sweat covered his chubby halfling face. Collecting himself he stated calmly, "He
cannot die, not while Catti-brie and Wulfgar have gone."
The dwarven clerics surrounding the bed -on their current makeshift camp heading to
Mithrall Hall- were quiet for a moment. "As much as we don't want to see his passing,
maybe it's for the best." Another pause. "Yes. This is not living Regis. You know that.
Bruenor is a warrior."
Silently wishing that his dear human companions were there he grasped Bruenor's cold
hand. "Damn those orcs, damn Obloud." He hissed in denial, a frustration sweeping over
the normally calm halfling. "Don't go, Bruenor, hold on...." his voice faded to a low
whisper just as a bare whisper of breath exhaled and inhaled from the mouth of the King.
Sighing, a cleric reached for Regis's shoulder to pull him away so they could perhaps try
something more to help the situation.
Suddenly, an arrow -crude in make- slammed into the back of the cleric.
"We're under attack! Everyone to battle." The call went out, ringing menacingly in the
ears of the camp as the cleric fell into Regis's lap. He was dead.
"No..." Regis gasped as a charge of orcs swarmed into the field, worgs leading the way.
A/N: I'm attempting to expand the plot line from this chapter on. Don't worry, it will be
different then the events of The Lone Drow ;) May be adding original characters soon as
well. (Thanks to Suzeann for the helping me with the idea for the rest of the story!)
Please review, much appreciated!! :)
A/N: Had trouble coming up with a chapter title...any better ideas?
The gloom of morning dissipated as the bright sun beams broke through the fog. The lone
dark elf ran through the forest, leaping over fallen logs - avoiding any obstacles that could
slow his constant pace.
His ebony face void of expression, he noted the suns rising with interest. The symbol of
his life before, the elation he had felt looking upon that sight on the first day he stepped
onto the surface world.
A brief pause.
A single tear shed from his eye as a ray slipped through the forest branches, lighting his
face for a mere moment before the sun continued to rise up again into the sky over
Faerun.
Shadows descended once again upon his face. Angry at the moisture running slowly
down his cheek Drizzt shock his head violently from it's nostalgic state.
Instead he focused on the situation at hand. Pointed ears listened in the quiet, still woods.
Amongst the random noises of wildlife he heard his prey, ever on his track. Yet, giants
could only move so fast and they were far from catching up to the swift elf.
Or, is that what he wanted? Pondering this thought, Drizzt realized -and had for some
time- that the living companionship (besides Guenhwyvar) he had now was in the brief
time before the kill.
The moment when his heart raced, the Hunter inside him swelling in joy. Parrying,
striking, attacking...fierce battle against a foe that deserved to be removed from the lands.
The fire lit anew in his lavender eyes.
Perhaps he would slow his pace, perhaps he would find the companionship - short lived as
it may be - very soon.
******
"Wulfgar!"
The barbarian wheeled around setting his strong legs and grasping his war hammer just in
time to swing at the orc inches from his back. Covered with countless small wounds from
the previous battle and blood -his and that of his enemies- coated his entire body.
Weariness that would drop any other human to the ground was fought off with a grimace
set on his unshaven face.
After the smelly creature fell to the ground, gasping some last words in his rough orcish
language, Wulfgar spared a glance to his female companion kneeling on a rock summit
above him.
He sent a silent thanks to Catti-brie for the warning that saved him another wound in the
back. Determined, he started to strut over to the next enemy.
A silver streak flashed in front of him, blinding his blue eyes before impaling itself in the
orc. Surprised at first but then relieved, Wulfgar lowered his war hammer.
"Good shooting," he murmured admirably as Catti-Brie sprang down from her shooting
post to join him.
Auburn hair falling in slight curls around the human's face, her green eyes glanced around
at the forest clearing. It was littered with orc bodies (she counted 10).
Some lay with an arrow from Heartseeker embedded in their flesh while others were
clearly smashed by the strength of either the war hammer or Wulfgar's fist.
"Is there anywhere in the realms not infested with these creatures?" The question was not
meant to be answered but Wulfgar still noted the venom of the last word, contempt and
almost, just almost, a sense of hopelessness in her accented voice.
"Come on. Let's find us some food and head back to the camp, I don't want to stray
from..." his deep voice caught in his throat.
"I know." A solemn and understanding voice interrupted him. The two adopted children
of Bruenor, King of Mithrall Hall, moved on.
******
"He won't last long."
"Please...try harder. He can't...he can't..." Regis was headed near a state of panic. A fine
sheen of sweat covered his chubby halfling face. Collecting himself he stated calmly, "He
cannot die, not while Catti-brie and Wulfgar have gone."
The dwarven clerics surrounding the bed -on their current makeshift camp heading to
Mithrall Hall- were quiet for a moment. "As much as we don't want to see his passing,
maybe it's for the best." Another pause. "Yes. This is not living Regis. You know that.
Bruenor is a warrior."
Silently wishing that his dear human companions were there he grasped Bruenor's cold
hand. "Damn those orcs, damn Obloud." He hissed in denial, a frustration sweeping over
the normally calm halfling. "Don't go, Bruenor, hold on...." his voice faded to a low
whisper just as a bare whisper of breath exhaled and inhaled from the mouth of the King.
Sighing, a cleric reached for Regis's shoulder to pull him away so they could perhaps try
something more to help the situation.
Suddenly, an arrow -crude in make- slammed into the back of the cleric.
"We're under attack! Everyone to battle." The call went out, ringing menacingly in the
ears of the camp as the cleric fell into Regis's lap. He was dead.
"No..." Regis gasped as a charge of orcs swarmed into the field, worgs leading the way.
A/N: I'm attempting to expand the plot line from this chapter on. Don't worry, it will be
different then the events of The Lone Drow ;) May be adding original characters soon as
well. (Thanks to Suzeann for the helping me with the idea for the rest of the story!)
Please review, much appreciated!! :)