Disclaimer: Now that I don't even own the computer I'm writing this on, I don't own a damn thing.
Authors Note: I'm really sorry for the last chapter, even I think it sucked, but I'm going to continue with this, because it is going somewhere, I promise. Thank you and please bear with me.
Chapter 2: Captured
Drizzt chided himself for allowing himself to let his guard down in the most dangerous place in Menzoberranzan. But it was far too late now. He turned slowly around to face his enemies and was hardly surprised to see four sets of snake whips pointed at him. One of the high priestesses, the only rank able to use the snake whips given by Lolth, stared at his eyes for a moment with a look of surprise on her face, then seemed to collect herself.
"Drizzt Do'Urden," she exclaimed, "we meet again".
His eyes flashed to the house insignia on her robes and noted with little surprise that she was from House Baenre, most powerful house of the city. But, strangely enough, she did look familiar.
"I do not know you, priestess of false gods," he spat, "nor do I want to."
The priestess' face twisted into a grim smile.
"I think you will remember me soon enough, secondboy of no house worth mentioning," she said menacingly.
Suddenly, in a lightning fast maneuver, she snapped her snake whip at Drizzt's face. In a parry just as quick, a scimitar was out of its sheath and up to meet the blow. The Baenre priestess worked his scimitars high and low, searching for an opening. The ranger kept to the defensive.
"Years ago," he breathed, "I made a vow never to slay another drow."
"Then die here!" she screamed, launching another volley of blows.
He parried them easily, and in a blinding dance of silver, sliced off three of the six heads of the snake whip.
The female pulled back and Drizzt seized the opportunity, deftly stepping forwards and disarming her. In an instant, his scimitar was at her throat. None of the other priestesses had moved during this short display of prowess. The ranger's blade wavered as momentarily he saw Briza, his sister and high priestess of Lolth in this position at the end of his blades.
"Briza," he whispered.
The resemblance was amazing, but it was impossible, his eldest sister had died long ago in the house war that had killed his family and destroyed the compound.
"So, you remember me, secondboy," she snarled.
"Impossible," he muttered, "that's not possible, you are dead."
Briza remained silent, aware that Drizzt might easily break his vow where she was concerned.
"How is it possible? Tell me!" he shouted, "it can't be!"
"The spider queen's magic works in mysterious ways," Briza stated, "it is not for us to question the workings."
"Hah," Drizzt laughed, a cold, bitter sound, "I forsook your spider queen long ago!"
One of the priestesses at Drizzt's back came unglued at these words and took a tentative step forward, as if daring the male to attack her. Drizzt complied, whirling about, and slicing off each of the snake whip's heads in a single stroke of his twin scimitars. The other two priestesses cast simultaneous teleportation spells and vanished, leaving only faint wisps of warmth to show that they had ever been there. The ranger turned back to Briza, who was getting to her feet. In a flash, his one scimitar was pointed at Briza's chest and the other at the lesser priestess' face. Neither moved.
"Briza," Drizzt said again, "I don't know how you are back from the Nine Hells, or why you wear the colours of House Baenre, but I am here for a purpose, and I will not be stopped."
"Drizzt," she replied, "why are you here?"
His reply was a derisive snort as he turned towards the great double doors. He walked out and towards the steps leading out of the Academy. When he was there, he turned towards Manyfolk, the marketplace of Menzoberranzan. He walked on for a time, with no signs of pursuit. He was mildly surprised at how few creatures there were in the marketplace, as it was normally bustling with beings of all races. He headed through the wide streets and narrow alleys in search of an inconspicuous inn. He found one, called The Crystal Stalagmite, and stepped inside. Some casual glances fell upon him, and then some whispering broke out by a table in the corner of the room. The whispering spread from table to table and more gazes were turned upon him and many eyes sought his. The barkeep, an elderly dark dwarf, stood up from behind the bar and pulled out a heavy crossbow that he normally used for rowdy ogres and sighted Drizzt in the crosshairs.
"I'm thinkin' ye be the drow elf that gave up the goddess, eh?" he asked, loudly.
If the attention had not been on Drizzt before, it certainly was now.
"Drizzt, eh, elf?", the dwarf stated, "I was bu' a slave in House Do'Urden's ranks when it was attacked and destroyed, but I bought my freedom, an' I remember ye well. Ye were the prize a' your house, some folk said ye were better with a blade then your da'. But ye were never cruel to anyone. But elf, for all these memories, I gotta kill ye for the goddess."
The crowd in the bar was completely still. Some of the patrons had stood up, one of them right beside Drizzt. The old dwarf's reminiscing over, he once again hefted the crossbow, which he had allowed to drop to his side, and aimed. Drizzt thought about his house and his past life for a split second. He decided in that moment that he had no regrets. Slowly, he opened the front of his piwafwi, the drow cloak, and exposed his unarmored chest to the dwarf.
"Take my life, then, dwarf," he said, "I will accept your judgment upon one who has done no wrong to you or your kind."
He pondered for a moment why he was doing this, and closed his eyes. The dwarf pondered for a moment if he believed that Drizzt actually had never hurt a dark dwarf. The onlookers pondered if they should do anything, or just watch. Back at the academy, Briza wondered what Drizzt was doing back in Menzoberranzan, as she formed a party to pursue him. The dark dwarf squeezed the trigger to the crossbow.
