The Lesser Evil
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.
Author's Note: While this chapter is not as violent as the previous, it does contain some depictions of the Demonweb Pits that may be disturbing. This chapter also contains a brief scene of very mild slash. Enjoy.
Information on Vhaeraun courtesy of the Chosen of Vhaeraun website.
Chapter 12: Games the Gods Play
A thick fog permeated the trees, steeping with the firs to enhance the fresh smell of pine that Drizzt deeply inhaled to calm his nerves. He watched his footing on the leaf and branch covered ground as his gaze kept ahead to the black cloak and long, champagne blond hair of Mazn'reysla, who had not spoke since they left the caves. Drizzt was beginning to annoy of the wizard-cleric's habit of leading him off to some unknown destination with an amused smirk wrapped around his almost child-like face. The first time this happened, the night ended with Drizzt taking an arrow through the stomach and waking up three days later.
Now the eccentric drow was taking him deep into the woods in an invitation to speak to his dark god. Drizzt knew he should not be here. He should be back at the camp with the Auzcovyn…or finding the nearest temple of Mielikki and tearfully atoning for his sins. A small smile crept over his face at this absurd notion.
No, he thought, I need at least some answers. This is for the best regardless of the outcome.
Drizzt did not know how far they had walked. His legs, still slightly weakened from three days of disuse, began to ache slightly, though he knew the walk would do him good. Eventually, the brush became heavier, almost as if the trees were gathering against them. Drizzt saw less and less of the sky and eventually let his vision shift into the infrared spectrum as the brush covered all light. For some reason, he figured their destination was close.
They passed into a small clearing where the thick firs blocked out all sky over a wide expanse of marsh, the water almost glowing with a black incandescence that illuminated the trees. Mazn'reysla tread lightly on a few, small islands to other side of a large pool, his light footsteps not making any prints in the muddy grass. Drizzt looked into the water and saw the silhouetted shapes of fallen branches and the winding roots of a tree next to the marsh. The pool's bizarre aura seemed to radiate from every ripple of water and floating leaf; a sight both calming and unnerving at the same time.
"I only ask you to maintain an open mind and a willing heart," Mazn'reysla said at last.
Drizzt stared at him in a final moment of hesitation before nodding. The cleric smiled.
"I'm sure you will enjoy this," he said with a chilling laugh and a dance in his red eyes.
The priest slowly held his small hands over the pool and became chanting softly. The air radiated with power as a breeze blew strong through the brush. Drizzt shivered, and then looked at the pool. The shapes of branches and roots were covered by a rapidly spreading haze of inky blackness whose fingers gradually permeated through every ounce of water. The mist around Mazn'reysla thickened from his feet and gradually crawled up his body, his black half-mask now looking less like fabric and more like curling shadow around his closed eyes.
Shadowy tendrils rose up from the water and danced along the surface before slowly crawling into the air, gathering in the center and creeping up to form a pillar that rose to a modest height. The tendrils then formed the shape of a torso, then arms, legs, a head, and a mass of wild hair, gradually fading into high, black boots, form-fitting velvet trousers, a thin silk shirt, and a flowing cape of fine black velvet. The visible skin became rich ebony as bright gold hair and gold eyes shone around a drow's face covered by a blood-red half-mask.
Drizzt felt a shiver, knowing he was now in the presence of a powerful, otherworldly being, whose golden eyes fixed on him as a sneering smile formed on his youthful face. The being walked on top of the shadowy pool and slowly drew closer to him.
"Drizzt Do'Urden, we meet at last," the entity said, stepping off the pool and onto the grassy bank in front of Drizzt, who stepped back a pace.
Drizzt could hear the rush of blood through his eardrums, yet he made only a polite nod of recognition with an unimpressed expression, while keeping his body from trembling.
"Lord Vhaeraun, I presume," he said dourly.
Vhaeraun's grin widened as he walked around Drizzt, his golden eyes scanning every part of his form with a nod. Drizzt kept his own eyes locked on the avatar, feeling as if he was being appraised like a horse.
"An avatar on this plane, yes, though I am indeed he," Vhaeraun said, his eyes still scanning Drizzt's form. "And you are the one mortal with whom I have so eagerly awaited an audience."
"If you care to check my teeth, I would not protest," Drizzt said with a sneer.
Vhaeraun gave a chilling cackle, his hair and eyes fading to a shade of bright blue.
"You are a cocky one," he replied, facing Drizzt. "It is fortunate for you I find that an admirable quality. Also fortunate for you that I have come to take a liking to you over the years."
"And you visit me now," Drizzt said sarcastically. "It's a pity you never came to me in Menzoberranzan when I was still fresh. Now I'm rather stale, I probably not a very good ingredient for your stew."
"No, you are plenty ripe now and you know that. The little sprout that so wanted to wrap the world in a comforting shell is now a fully grown vine ready to tangle that world in its tendrils, only he doesn't know how. He doesn't know what powers he possesses, cannot control that which makes him who he is."
"And I am sure you are here to show me everything, how touching."
"Perhaps not. The reality might overwhelm you," Vhaeraun said leaning onto Drizzt's ear, "being a fragile mortal and all that fun business."
"I think I'm a tad bit more hardened, and you know that," Drizzt hissed. "If you know something about me that I do not, I demand answers."
Vhaeraun's eyebrows rose as his hair faded to green.
"You dare demand answers of me?" the avatar asked with a chuckle. "You are brave, or foolish, though obviously mad."
"Completely mad," Drizzt replied, his lavender eyes widening in emphasis.
A smug smile locked on to the avatar's face.
"Very well," Vhaeraun said, "though I am sure you will enjoy this."
In one rapid motion, two wicked looking shortswords were in each of his slender, ebony hands; one blade almost glowed with a silver light while the other was a substance of pitch blackness. The blades thrust and Drizzt with a blurring sweep of shadow, meeting Twinkle and Icingdeath the second they came forward with a long scream of metal. Vhaeraun disengaged at an impossible speed, his blades merely a blur of air, though the scimitars managed to parry their every blow.
Soon Drizzt caught somewhat of a rhythm amid the whirring shortswords and launched his own flurry of feints, powering his muscles on the rising surge of adrenaline and the growing passion of battle. Vhaeraun jumped up and flipped back with a thrust; though Drizzt flipped back to narrowly avoid the blades, though Vhaeraun never missed a beat. Drizzt jumped into the air, letting his powered muscles deliver him on the branch of a strong pine. Vhaeraun jumped up and almost floated behind him, though Drizzt spun around on one foot and met every blow.
Drizzt started closing in on the avatar, pushing him further to the trunk of the tree. Vhaeraun then placed both his feet on the trunk, grabbed a branch with one hand, and glided up the trunk, landing on the higher branch and jumping down making a cross slice. Drizzt shifted his weight on one foot and spun before jumping down, the black sword clipping a spike of hair. Vhaeraun came to the ground and Drizzt managed a clip at his shoulder, drawing a small trickle of the match's first blood. Vhaeraun gave a brief cackle before stepping behind Drizzt in a whoosh of motion. Drizzt stepped aside, only for Vhaeraun to make the same motion. Drizzt jumped and made a forward flip over the avatar and thrust down. Vhaeraun spun and got out of the way, though Drizzt scored another more significant slice in his shoulder.
Each fighter made his respective parry and feint, though Drizzt knew the avatar was not using his full strength. Vhaeraun had something planned, a trap into which Drizzt had willingly stepped. Whether or not he cared was another matter entirely.
Drizzt kept up the fast growing pace, savoring the burn in his muscles and the hot rush blood through his entire body. The passion rose with every quickened thrust of blades to meet those of this powerful entity. Then his mind quieted entirely and let his animalistic instinct take over his body and respond to the growing pace.
"You just want to taste my blood," his frenzied brain heard among the clang of swords and rush of blood through his eardrums. "I see the burn in your eyes; you just want to see the hot, flowing red so badly."
"Yes," Drizzt growled, thrusting and parrying against swirling air as he regarded the grinning face and blue eyes of his opponent.
Vhaeraun jumped backwards onto a high, fallen tree with Drizzt on the trunk a second later, his blades never leaving the shortswords. Vhaeraun slowly crept to the highest point of the tree near the exposed roots as Drizzt kept on him the whole way. Vhaeraun then did a spinning back flip off the tree with a swirl of shadow and landed on the ground. Drizzt jumped, fell for a second, and then landed on his feet to slice Twinkle into Vhaeraun's shoulder.
The avatar howled, though his blades kept in constant motion. His cry of pain erupted into a mass of chilling cackles as he glanced down briefly to see blood spurt from his arm, then trickle, then stop altogether. Drizzt sneered and charged back at him, only to miss his swords entirely, the feints were impossibly quick to the point where they were invisible. He growled and successfully parried Icingdeath against the silver blade. The black shortsword connected with the tip of the Twinkle, before it was repositioned in a blur and slammed against the center of the blade.
The force shattered the metal into tiny shards as the waves traveled down the length of Drizzt's wrist, which splintered with a sickening crack of bone. Drizzt gave loud, animalistic scream, lavender eyes burning with rage as he dropped the severed hilt among Twinkle's shattered remains and thrust Icingdeath at Vhaeraun's chest. The black blade parried it easily, before the silver blade made a blurred slice into the left side of Drizzt's face, metal slicing diagonally across the length of his lower jaw, cutting through all layers of flesh and scraping against bone. Drizzt raised Icingdeath again, only to watch in horror as the blade bent backwards, thrust into his shoulder, cleanly sliding between his collarbone and his ribcage, though completely avoiding his lung and any major blood vessels or nerves. The force of the thrust sent him flying against the wide pine, the blade protruding out the other side of his body and sticking deeply into the wood. Drizzt was pinned, yet kept a firm footing on the ground.
Vhaeraun sheathed his swords and almost floated to Drizzt with an enthused smile.
"You broke my blade," Drizzt said calmly among the many screams of pain that seemed to emanate from every part of his body.
"I can hear the blood rush through your veins," Vhaeraun said in a chilling tone, his hair turning gold, "the frenzy brewing in your brain. Your flesh is hot as your wounds cry, a searing burn just telling your body it wants more."
"I had that blade for a long time," Drizzt said, his voice quivering with a maddening laugh. "I had become rather fond of it."
"I am rather fascinated by the fragile, mortal form," Vhaeraun said, reaching down and grabbing Drizzt's shattered wrist, his hand closing tightly and setting some of the bones with a loud snap, though Drizzt barely flinched. "Others of my kind will see your fragile form as limiting, though such limited resources can inspire much creativity; so many different ways to push this frail form to amazing things without destroying it entirely, or at least not now."
Vhaeraun squeezed his hand again, setting more bones with a louder crack. Drizzt gave a sharp intake of air, yet he did find himself somewhat savoring the immense ache along with the surging blood through his body and the burn in his muscles; the greatest high he had ever known.
"Now you are a wonderful example, though I expected nothing less from you," Vhaeraun said, his free hand grabbing the handle of the scimitar and twisting slightly. The burn made Drizzt want to vomit, but he instead harnessed the energy in himself for the greater rush.
"This is your fuel, your hunger," Vhaeraun continued. "You live for passion, whether the heat of battle, the victory of a kill, or the warm flesh of a woman. Or perhaps…"
Vhaeraun's grin widened as he slowly removed his hand from the hilt and gently caressed down Drizzt's chest and stomach, one finger slowly making contact with his trouser strings. With a sudden burst of strength, Drizzt grabbed Vhaeraun's tunic with his pinned arm, and pulled him forward with a growl… before placing a passionate kiss on his lips, savoring the brief look of surprise in the avatar's eyes, before yanking him in closer. It was not a kiss of love or even control, but defiance mixed with decadent abandon; a gesture of his own surging power. Drizzt deepened the rough kiss, forcing his tongue between his lips and expecting it to be bitten off, though the avatar merely let out a muted laugh, opening his mouth and letting his own tongue dance along. Drizzt then pushed the avatar back several steps with a sneer, the fire in his shoulder burning more intense. The avatar looked amused as his hair faded to green.
"Now that was interesting," Vhaeraun said. "I am certainly impressed."
"Was it good for you too?" Drizzt said sweetly.
"It proves a point that so many have made about you since the day of your birth. This is who you are; the pleasure, the pain, all your true essence and motivating your every action. You are a creature of pure chaos and it is only now that you realize the full meaning of that."
"If you keep speaking in riddles I swear…"
"You will break from this tree, bend me over, and complete this little experiment? I doubt you would succeed, but it would be amusing to see you try."
The avatar grabbed his broken wrist again and gave another cracking squeeze, the hand becoming warm as the pain gradually melted as Drizzt felt the bones knitting. When the warmth subsided, Drizzt flexed his wrist, yet Vhaeraun kept his tight grasp as his other hand caressed Drizzt's wounded face, closing the wound yet leaving a deep, white scar.
"You wish for answers," the avatar said, his now-blue eyes locking with Drizzt's burning lavender orbs. "Answers to questions you yourself have denied for so long. Be willing to accept the chaos that is the very nature of your soul and open your mind to all possibilities."
"That has been my journey thus far," Drizzt said.
Vhaeraun pressed his cheek against Drizzt's.
"Are you willing to accept everything?" he sneered in a pointed ear.
"What do you have?" Drizzt replied.
Vhaeraun resumed his gaze into Drizzt's eyes. Drizzt's vision was at first focused on Vhaeraun's green eyes, before gradually fading into a mass of inky blackness. His entire consciousness was pulled into a warm haze and he had no sense of his surroundings. It was almost as if he became part of the shadows.
The shadows started to clear into images of inky pits lined with faerie fire and sticky webs. Grotesque looking spider creatures crawled around the webs, some resembling driders, others looking more like the stuff of nightmare complete with oozing pus, eyes all over the body, and barbs protruding from every ounce of dripping flesh. He could not count the number of pits in front of him, not could he count all the smoky beings being tied up screaming within the webs.
"The Demonweb Pits," he gasped, though his lips did not move.
Amid the scene of horror, a small, black form fell from the red sky. Drizzt took a better look at the figure and a chill ran through his body; it was the smoky form of a male drow infant, wailing with the cries of a newborn and flailing its shadowy limbs as if to explore a horrific world to which he had been cast. The babe fell, its crying stopped into almost a sound of laughing amusement, landing in the center of the pit and becoming entangled in the sticky web. A small brigade of spider demons scuttled forward, spinning it in silk like a new prey. The form of the infant took on a purple glow, its limbs slowly morphing into spindly legs as more sunk out from his soft flesh. His laughing stopped as his mouth became a set of mandibles, that produced a series of rapid chitters and clicks. The babe was now a small spider with a drow face, all the demons tending to it as if a mother spider attending to her hatchlings.
"Third born sons," a familiar voice said from the air, breaking Drizzt's momentary awe. "The Spider Queen called for their sacrifice, her tyranny in action. Their tiny bodies are torn apart and their souls come here. Most are turned into servitor demons; Lolth would never waste a valuable resource. Then there are those who serve a different purpose."
A faint nudge turned Drizzt's attention to another part of the pits, where another shadowy form of a drow infant crawled along the side, cooing and laughing happily as its tiny hands and feet maneuvered up the web as if it was a ladder. Then another spider demon scuttled over, wrapped its legs around the boy's tiny body, and lifted him up by a thread of silk, the two rising into the vast sky into nothingness.
"Once in a great while, she will order a Matron to resurrect a little soul and leave it as a foundling among the peasants or the merchant classes," the voice continued. "These boys will learn of their past through rather convenient means and either come to serve her absolutely, or they come to despise her. Regardless, they are the true bastards of the higher classes; the pieces left behind who will climb up her ladder and serve her purpose to the bane of the established order. If they actually work on the sidelines to cause true dissent, they live a little longer as her true agents of chaos until their purpose is served."
"Such was the case of my companion, I presume," Drizzt said, his lips still not moving.
"Ah yes, Jarlaxle Baenre: one of the Lolth's greatest agents of dissent, though he despises the Spider Queen with all his black heart. He cannot change his purpose, it is his unwilling birthright. I also assume he does not wish to either. He serves no one but himself; which is indeed a pity."
"So that was her plan for me?" Drizzt asked.
The shadows gradually thickened like smoke, blocking out the view of the pits and slowly fading into Vhaeraun's now red eyes. Vhaeraun pulled back, allowing Drizzt to look at the woods and regain his senses. He then grabbed the hilt of the scimitar and pulled it out. Drizzt steadied himself against the wave of agonizing pain, keeping his footing though leaning forward. Vhaeraun's hand keep him steady as a rush of warmth knitted the wound as he sheathed the sword in Drizzt's left scabbard.
"My mother is a tyrant who thrives on chaos as her control," Vhaeraun said softly. "For every order she gives to keep the drow under her spiny foot, she makes another to drive that order apart. Her hobby is collecting and creating anything that upsets the balance of her own society, the large grasshopper that gets caught in the fine web only to destroy it. Those things that amuse her most are those things that work to her favor that happen purely by accident, a creation of the primordial chaos; such as that one third born male who is seconds from sacrifice, only to be saved by an instant decision that sent another in his place. This male infant lives by circumstances even she could not control and therefore becomes a focus for her, a personal favorite. Like the stars or the position of the moon under which one might be born, his fate is determined by the circumstances under which he was allowed to live."
"So by default I am meant to be some kind of marauder?" Drizzt said. "I am fated to be a source of amusement for the Spider Queen? I don't believe that."
"You are the son and student of a powerful, dissident male who raised you with a hatred of your society. You also possess conscience and emotion that most drow cannot comprehend, yet you still bear the natural tendencies of your blood. Put this volatile little mix through adolescence and things become truly interesting; raging emotions, changing hormones? You have a few forces working against you already, my friend, only your own actions wrote the rest of the story. I don't think I need to list your many deeds, all acts that have disrupted the order of the drow and made the Spider Queen proud every time."
"But I fought her!" Drizzt snapped. "I killed her servants, destroyed her chapels! I always intended…"
"All the more brilliant! What better creature to serve her bidding than one who hates her most. Matrons scramble to sacrifice you first and weapon masters race each other to defeat you, leaving every remote ounce of order in Menzoberranzan shattered and all is left to war and complete chaos. Your little efforts on the side of 'goodness' played the part perfectly."
Drizzt paused and chewed this over with a disgusted look as so many things seemed to fall into place.
"By working against Lolth, I served her purpose," Drizzt sneered. "By serving good, I served evil."
"You became so tangled in the fallacy of mortals," Vhaeraun groaned. "You cannot comprehend all the forces at work in the universe, yet you need to give them nice, convenient names that shackle you into your own ideals: lies, truth; justice, injustice; good, evil; meaningless. Tyrants use these ideals to gather their sheep and keep them in line; a motivation that makes the highest Matron and the lowliest paladin equal in their intentions."
"The hypocrisy of my existence," Drizzt replied through gritted teeth as a burn rose in his chest. "I am sure Lolth is happy her pure son of chaos begins to see things her way."
"Ah, I see you are caught in a rather difficult situation, having been weaned on this propaganda of good and evil: the purest model of evil is the disgusting way of Menzoberranzan and model for good is everything opposing. Only now you realize that life of purity and goodness was the biggest lie you ever made to yourself, kept your true nature locked in a little cell until it finally burst out. Only it is that true nature that you have equated with the enemy, so where are you now?"
"My true nature is not like a son of Menzoberranzan," Drizzt hissed to the Masked God and to himself.
"Of course not," Vhaeraun said firmly, his hair and eyes fading to gold. "You believe in honor among your fellows, having even known friendship. You have at least some decorum in your more violent dealings, only putting the most deserving to the worst torture; bringing painful deaths upon those who exert their will because of who and what they are. You are a passionate creature who enjoys pleasures of the flesh, yet does not dominate for dominance sake. There are many like you, and all of you have a friend in the other planes who sees the same way."
"So is that the reasoning you will use so I will just jump to your side," Drizzt yelled. "Pardon me if I have come not to trust the gods very much; I have been a pawn in too many games of which I have grown tired."
"I dislike pawns immensely," Vhaeraun sneered, his hair and eyes fading to red. "I ask for brothers and sisters, not minions. They are counterproductive and they all harbor their own treachery. I prefer my flock to be a unified force."
"So what would you have me do to become one of your flock?" Drizzt asked sarcastically. "What kind of faithful service do you require, my Masked Lord?"
Vhaeraun's hair and eyes faded to green.
"Have your deeds encouraged drow males to leave their houses, Drizzt Do'Urden?" Vhaeraun asked. "Have you already proven yourself the biggest thorn in Menzoberranzan's side time and time again? Have you ever engaged in deception to serve your purpose, how about killed for money? I know the answer to all of these; so far you are doing some of the work even though you thought it was all in sport, or even in the name of some fruitless cause for goodness."
Drizzt's smile melted, his raging thoughts suddenly turning to his first years on the surface with old Montolio DeBroochie, the caring man who taught him the way of the ranger and introduced a cynical son of a drow priestess to the path of Mielikki. Drizzt never felt he had found his faith in the goddess, only the goddess was a name he could put to the feelings in his heart.
Now his heart had changed, seeing so many realities he had been blind to before. Now he walked a much different path; had he now found a deity who now shared that as well?
"I see I have struck a nerve," Vhaeraun continued.
"In the event that I do decide to call you my friend," Drizzt said with a deep sigh, his voice calming though still tense, "what could you offer me?"
"A focus for your chaos, something to keep you from tearing yourself apart," Vhaeraun said firmly, his face completely straight as his hair turned gold. "With me, you will find validation for all your innermost desires and actions, perhaps a motivation for continuing your fine job and finding other missions to satisfy your passions in a constructive way. I offer you companionship with others like you, a way for you to know your fellow drow as something other than an enemy while keeping your relevant allies whose races are different. Above all, I offer you protection."
Vhaeraun grabbed Drizzt's shoulders and pulled him forward.
"Lolth has returned from a long hiatus," the avatar whispered in his ear, "risen anew with an insatiable thirst for destruction and herding all her minions and favorites for her new plans. You are presently alone in the universe. Mielikki has cast you aside and you are without a deity to watch your interests, leaving you completely vulnerable to the machinations of her and her allies and defenseless to her whim. She will come for you again; her persuasion and demands stronger to the point where she will destroy you and all you remotely care for to further her tyranny and madness."
Drizzt looked up and saw Vhaeraun's hair turn red for a second, before returning to gold.
"Join me and you have an ally and a family of brothers and sisters who would kill and die to keep her from having her way. She may have a renewed vigor, but she and her minions are now more vulnerable. Ched Nasad was destroyed and Menzoberranzan is still weak. Thousands came to the surface during her absence, thousands now calling me their ally. I would like nothing more than one of the Spider Queen's most powerful enemies to wake up from his delusions of goodly grandeur and join a more fruitful cause."
Drizzt paused for a second to digest this information.
"You ask for me to ally myself with the lesser evil in order to serve a greater good?" Drizzt said with a creeping grin.
"Lolth isn't expecting one of her weapons to turn against her," Vhaeraun said, drawing back. "I am sure that is one turn of chaos she will not find so amusing."
"You make a favorable proposition," Drizzt said, "but I refuse to make hasty decisions."
Vhaeraun jumped back and gave another cackle.
"Fine, take your time," he said with a grin, though Drizzt figured he already had the answer.
Mazn'reysla then suddenly appeared beside the avatar of his god, a black bowl in his hand.
"I believe I have something that might help you think a little clearer," Vhaeraun said, giving the cleric a smiling nod in greeting while reaching into the bowl.
His slender hand came out clutching a black hilt with a dark garnet on the end. The blade was fully pulled into the air, revealing a finely forged adamantine scimitar.
"I think this might suit you hand better than that trinket from that group of addled wizards. This one can cause greater wounds on your opponents and summon shadow on a thought, much more useful than a blade with a pretty glow."
Vhaeraun presented the hilt to Drizzt, who took it with a firm grip and swung it around a few times to fully gauge its light, comfortable feel. With a grin, he slid it into his empty scabbard.
"I also give you a piece of friendly advice," Vhaeraun said. "You are still in the process of finding your true power. One of your traveling companions was once your mortal enemy, while your other companion is an agent of chaos who lives constantly looking out for the nearest opportunity to wipe up after you both. This is a rather volatile group."
"And contains some of the greatest friends I have ever known," Drizzt replied.
"Lolth would like nothing more than to see you all tear each other apart."
"What would you like to see?"
Vhaeraun merely smiled.
"The sun looms on the horizon," the avatar said. "The time of the drow has ended for one night. We shall meet again."
The avatar of Vhaeraun walked back to the water, his feet treading across the surface until he reached the center of the pool. He gave a deep, exaggerated bow, his wild, golden hair flopping in his golden eyes, before fading back into a mass of shadows and sinking back into the water. The shadowy tendrils sunk inward and gradually faded, leaving the marsh clear.
Mazn'reysla came closer to Drizzt with a look of anticipation.
"I thank you for this opportunity," Drizzt said lightly. "It has been most enlightening."
Mazn'reysla smiled.
"It is time for my Reverie," he said, bowing and turning back to the woods, fading into the trees.
Drizzt stood for a second in contemplation, staring into the black water and letting all the events of that evening play before his eyes. So much had happened, so many questions were answered, yet so much had yet to be said. He smiled, blew a kiss to the pool, and turned down the path from which he had come. The canopy gradually thinned, revealing a purple sky turning redder by the second. He paused, and looked upwards to see the sky turning orange as the bright orb was visible through the eastern trees.
With a relieved sigh, Drizzt continued through the wood, the path becoming clearer as a slow rise noise came from the lingering residents of the village. Amid the soft conversations, he heard a pair of familiar voices in the short distance accented by the ring of clashing blades. With a devilish smirk, he crept through the brush, swinging through the occasional low fir until he was a foot away from the human and the outrageously attired drow. Neither of them noticed his presence until Charon's Claw rang against a black hilted scimitar instead of a longsword.
Entreri gave a brief look of surprise before narrowing his gaze and raising his dagger in a thrust. Jarlaxle stepped aside and gave Drizzt room to parry the small blade with Icingdeath.
"Well, well, well," Jarlaxle said, interrupting the match, "it is very good to see you join us at last."
"All apologies, Malla Valuk," Drizzt said with a bow, "but I was on…"
"A diplomatic mission," Entreri and Jarlaxle added in unison.
Jarlaxle said a command word that shrunk his swords to the size of daggers, which were carefully tucked in his belt. He gave a brief look at Drizzt before doing a double-take and grabbing his jaw, pulling him forward.
"What in the Nine Hells happened to you?" the mercenary asked, his right index finger tracing the length of the new scar along Drizzt's jaw.
"He tore your tunic as well," Entreri added in a matter-of-fact manner, coming forward with a raised eyebrow of slight curiosity.
"I got into a little fight," Drizzt said, drawing Jarlaxle's hand back.
"Now that was not very diplomatic," Jarlaxle said, "though that scar makes you look dashing."
"He does nothing for me," Entreri said with a smirk.
Drizzt laughed and raised his blades, squaring off with Entreri for a few seconds before lunging forward, his new blade meeting Charon's Claw and Icingdeath meeting the jeweled dagger. The two continued to engage blades, but with smiles and light taunts as Jarlaxle leaned against a tree and watched with a grin.
"Now where is your other blade?" Jarlaxle asked Drizzt in a tone of mock scolding. "In the same place where you gained this new one? While that is a rather nice scimitar, I hope we can take our time to leave this wonderful land and not run out with thirty nasty dark elves on our tails."
"Don't worry; it was nothing of the sort," Drizzt said, dodging a swipe from Charon's Claw. "This one is so much more comfortable. So you have made plans for our departure?"
"'Our departure?' You have not decided to take the mask, spend your days in the woods with your fellows?" Jarlaxle asked.
"That wasn't exactly my plan," Drizzt replied, the shadow blade crashing against the dagger. "I was about to ask the same of you."
"We leave at moon rise," the mercenary replied firmly.
"Where are we going now?" Drizzt replied, jumping back from the path of Charon's Claw.
"Down the road," Entreri added, parrying Icingdeath with his dagger.
"Just 'down the road?'" Jarlaxle asked with a hint of incredulity. "I swore you wanted to go to Calimport?"
"And where in the Hells did you get that impression," the assassin replied, dodging Icingdeath.
"Didn't you mention it just an hour ago?"
"I said I wondered how much things there had fallen apart. I never said I wanted to actually see it."
"Aren't you a wanted man there?" Drizzt asked, engaging in a small flurry of feints.
"Not wanted," Entreri replied, blocking with both blades, "just strongly disliked."
"That was a long time ago," Jarlaxle added. "Regardless of where we decide to scamper, I will assume you will be joining us. I'm rather pleased to see your little near-death experience did not give you the inspiration to sit back and enjoy your flesh."
"You are mad," Drizzt said, spinning out of the dagger's reach. "Do you seriously think I would pass up the opportunity to do more damage with you two idiots for a simple love of my flesh?"
Entreri jumped forward and found a small opening, holding his dagger half an inch from Drizzt's neck. Drizzt looked down at the blade, and then at Entreri, who gave him a dirty smirk. With a bored sigh, he tapped the blade away with Icingdeath and began another series of feints.
Pass up the opportunity, indeed.
Next chapter: the conclusion to "The Lesser Evil."
