Chapter Five
D.A. Next chapter! Yay! For all you Guen fans out there, yes, Guenhwyvar
is in this chapter. Also, I am now aware that I spelled Cyradis wrong.
Thank you, Sliph, for pointing out both those things. And now, ladies and
gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for...THE STORY!
Drizzt stood at the balcony, letting the night air blow through his white hair. The moon glinted off the ocean as it crashed against the rocks. His mind, however, unlike the calm, cool night, was in turmoil. He appreciated the Rivan King's hospitality, but he longed for Faerun, and Mithril Hall. Sighing, he went back into his room.
Different magic, different people, no dwarves or elves of any kind...What have I gotten myself into this time?
Sitting in a chair near the window, he sat and thought until a horrifying thought came to him.
Wait... Different magic? Does that mean that I can't call Guenhwyvar?
Coming to his feet at the very thought, he rooted franticly in his belt pouch, and he drew out the marvelous figurine and laid it on the floor. "Guenhwyvar!" he called desperately, hoping against hope that his friend could still make the journey.
............................................................................................................ It was nighttime in Guenwyvar's astral plane, and the panther herself was lounging in a tree, having gorged herself on an unlucky antelope. Her ears pricked up as she heard Drizzt's call, and she immediately knew that something was wrong. The call was very faint, almost a whisper, and she leapt through the portal, scared that something had happened to Drizzt. After a while, she stopped, confused. The journey was taking far too long. Then, the call came again, stronger. Guenwyvar ran full tilt, heeding her master's call.
............................................................................................................
Drizzt slumped to the floor, grieved. Not only were his friends in another world entirely, his oldest companion was unable to answer his call. He sadly picked up the figurine and prepared to tuck it back into his pouch, when a faint grey mist gathered in front of him. He quickly turned around and watched the mist anxiously. Slowly, the great panther formed, and became solid. The giant cat crouched, tail lashing, looking for any signs of danger. Drizzt sighed in relief and hugged the tense panther. "It's all right, my friend. There's nothing here," he said. The giant panther gave him a disgusted look, and sat down to wash herself. He laughed, gave the cat one last pat, and sent her home.
............................................................................................................ Jarok stomped around the room, muttering to himself. How dare he?! I'm one of the most powerful men on this rock they call an island, and he treats me like a common peasant, to be ordered around. The very thought made him want to scream.
"Where is that messenger?"
He snarled, and continued to pace the room like a caged wolf. The house was at the very outskirts of the city, in the less reputable part of town. He glared in distaste at the shabby surroundings. At that moment, there was a knock at the door. He stomped over and yanked it open. A burly-looking Alorn in bear skins stood there, panting from running hard. He saluted, and said,
"Holy one, the forces are in place. Your commanders await your orders."
Jarok allowed himself a smirk before saying,
"Get the men in place. We attack tonight."
The cultist started visibly before stuttering out,
"B-but we have had no time to plan! What if..."
The man flinched as Jarok snarled,
"I don't care, you jackass! I want every able-bodied man devoted to Belar ready for battle! Now move, man!"
The messenger saluted, and said, "At once, Holy One! Or," he added slyly, "Should I say, Emperor?"
The Head Priest gestured impatiently, eager to at last begin the crusade to spread Belar's worship to the wider world.
"Get out of here."He growled. The man scurried out of the room, and once he was gone, Jarok settled into a chair and smirked to himself. Soon, Belgarion, he thought with an evil smile on his bearded face. Very soon.
............................................................................ ....................................................................Drizzt mused this new development. He was currently hovering eight feet in the air above his bed. It did not help in figuring out this puzzle, he decided, but added another piece. But still, why were his magic returning? A few minutes before, he had thought of testing his levitation magic to see if it would work. Apparently, it did. He floated down, and sat cross-legged on the bed. He was still thinking when he drifted off, exhausted by the day's events. ...........................................................................................................D.A. Yes, I am quite aware that this is a short chapter. But I wanted to post it, so live with it. Hmmm, maybe I should do a Rurouni Kenshin story next...
Drizzt stood at the balcony, letting the night air blow through his white hair. The moon glinted off the ocean as it crashed against the rocks. His mind, however, unlike the calm, cool night, was in turmoil. He appreciated the Rivan King's hospitality, but he longed for Faerun, and Mithril Hall. Sighing, he went back into his room.
Different magic, different people, no dwarves or elves of any kind...What have I gotten myself into this time?
Sitting in a chair near the window, he sat and thought until a horrifying thought came to him.
Wait... Different magic? Does that mean that I can't call Guenhwyvar?
Coming to his feet at the very thought, he rooted franticly in his belt pouch, and he drew out the marvelous figurine and laid it on the floor. "Guenhwyvar!" he called desperately, hoping against hope that his friend could still make the journey.
............................................................................................................ It was nighttime in Guenwyvar's astral plane, and the panther herself was lounging in a tree, having gorged herself on an unlucky antelope. Her ears pricked up as she heard Drizzt's call, and she immediately knew that something was wrong. The call was very faint, almost a whisper, and she leapt through the portal, scared that something had happened to Drizzt. After a while, she stopped, confused. The journey was taking far too long. Then, the call came again, stronger. Guenwyvar ran full tilt, heeding her master's call.
............................................................................................................
Drizzt slumped to the floor, grieved. Not only were his friends in another world entirely, his oldest companion was unable to answer his call. He sadly picked up the figurine and prepared to tuck it back into his pouch, when a faint grey mist gathered in front of him. He quickly turned around and watched the mist anxiously. Slowly, the great panther formed, and became solid. The giant cat crouched, tail lashing, looking for any signs of danger. Drizzt sighed in relief and hugged the tense panther. "It's all right, my friend. There's nothing here," he said. The giant panther gave him a disgusted look, and sat down to wash herself. He laughed, gave the cat one last pat, and sent her home.
............................................................................................................ Jarok stomped around the room, muttering to himself. How dare he?! I'm one of the most powerful men on this rock they call an island, and he treats me like a common peasant, to be ordered around. The very thought made him want to scream.
"Where is that messenger?"
He snarled, and continued to pace the room like a caged wolf. The house was at the very outskirts of the city, in the less reputable part of town. He glared in distaste at the shabby surroundings. At that moment, there was a knock at the door. He stomped over and yanked it open. A burly-looking Alorn in bear skins stood there, panting from running hard. He saluted, and said,
"Holy one, the forces are in place. Your commanders await your orders."
Jarok allowed himself a smirk before saying,
"Get the men in place. We attack tonight."
The cultist started visibly before stuttering out,
"B-but we have had no time to plan! What if..."
The man flinched as Jarok snarled,
"I don't care, you jackass! I want every able-bodied man devoted to Belar ready for battle! Now move, man!"
The messenger saluted, and said, "At once, Holy One! Or," he added slyly, "Should I say, Emperor?"
The Head Priest gestured impatiently, eager to at last begin the crusade to spread Belar's worship to the wider world.
"Get out of here."He growled. The man scurried out of the room, and once he was gone, Jarok settled into a chair and smirked to himself. Soon, Belgarion, he thought with an evil smile on his bearded face. Very soon.
............................................................................ ....................................................................Drizzt mused this new development. He was currently hovering eight feet in the air above his bed. It did not help in figuring out this puzzle, he decided, but added another piece. But still, why were his magic returning? A few minutes before, he had thought of testing his levitation magic to see if it would work. Apparently, it did. He floated down, and sat cross-legged on the bed. He was still thinking when he drifted off, exhausted by the day's events. ...........................................................................................................D.A. Yes, I am quite aware that this is a short chapter. But I wanted to post it, so live with it. Hmmm, maybe I should do a Rurouni Kenshin story next...