Disclaimer: I do not own the forgotten realms or any of R.A. Salvatore's chars. What I DO own is a bag of dice, a bunch of books, a computer with internet and a word processor, and the most important thing, IMAGINATION!
"You can cast spells?" The dark elf asked the bound orc sitting in the snow, a few feet away from many dead orcish soldiers under the command of Obould Many-arrows.
"yes, yes I can, and you're a drow living on the surface, the worlds a strange place. Let's discuss this over some food. Preferably soon and with me unshackled!" the orc retorted sharply in highly cultured common tongue. His voice raising in frustration towards the end but without any hint of fear or hatred in his voice at all.
Drizzt bit back a laugh as he stared at the orc in wonderment, the only people who spoke to him without fear or hatred were his dear friends back at Mithral Hall. He then shook his head and walked over to the bound orc and as he started to undo the shackles, he stopped.
"how do I know you won't simply cast a spell on me and run on your way? Plus, how do you know I'm a drow? Could I not just be a high elf making his way through this land to report about the orcish armies and their leader Obould?" Drizzt questioned. Not wanting to be the recipient of any wizards spells no matter the race.
The orc looked over his shoulder, smiling., "Why won't I cast a spell as soon as you release me? Simple, you just saw I can cast spells with these shackles on and I haven't tried to use any on you. Also, you move like none other. I'd probably die as soon as the words started to escape my lips. I know you're a drow because I've heard stories about you, a drow who lives on the surface with a dwarf and two humans, wields twin scimitars and can move like no other living thing. Besides, any REAL high elf would have killed me for simply implying he was a drow. That and he would be in a group and probably have a bow and a standard of some sort, not be too careful about his face be seen, and probably not have snowy white hair such as yours. So you're name would be Drizzit right?" his voice filled with the scent of know-it-all.
Drizzt did laugh this time, a short laugh at how this orc drew conclusions about the people he met. "actually, the names pronounced Drizzt" he said as he then undid the latch that held the shackles over the orc's hands and forearms. "would you have a name?"
The orc rubbed his arms to get feeling back into them, "yes I do. That name is Timothy, but, seeing at how that name can be a little bit long for use in an instance of danger, just call me Tim." Tim then looked at Drizzt's cowled face, "now how about food?" as he started to remove the packs of the deceased orcs.
"so Tim," Drizzt remarked. "how did you get that name anyway? It seems so strange for you to have such a name, who gave it to you?" Drizzt then stared hard at Tim, seeing him give a barely noticeable flinch "… or did you take it from another?"
Tim looked directly into Drizzt's barely visible eyes as he rummaged through the one of the backpacks. "It was given to me… By… never mind, we have no need to discuss this now, I can search these packs while we walk, we might want shelter if we're going to be out here." he looked towards the sky, in which the sun had already finished dipping into the horizon and the moon started to shine in its glory among the stars. Tim then shuddered. "it's getting a little chilly as well."
Drizzt nodded in agreement. "I'd take you to Mithral Hall, my home, but I don't believe they would welcome you in open arms." he said, "the best you could hope for is a cramped cell and the meager rations of an unpopular prisoner" he then started to walk in the towards Mithral Hall, following the very slight signs he left himself just in case he had to get back to Mithral Hall. He looked behind himself to see Tim getting up and walking after him feeling through the bags.
Tim looked up at Drizzt, "I'm going with you. I don't expect much from dwarves at war. I just hope that I'm not killed outright." Tim face then light up as he pulled out what seemed to be a ragged book bound by leather, as well as some tubes.
"what did you find?" Drizzt asked when he glanced over his shoulder as he was following the trail.
"I found my book and my scroll cases! I thought that they would have surely burned them for fire!" Tim said with a modicum of glee. He then stowed them in a nearly empty bag in which he had been putting the near-spoilt rations he found in the other bags.
The rest of the trek was uneventful and moderately quiet, save for the sounds of Tim's footsteps, his breathing, and about every time he moved or did something Drizzt noticed.
'Not quiet at all. I'm surprised we haven't been attacked yet.' he thought to himself after one particularly loud step that crackled a thin layer of ice that had formed over the snow.
Within an hour of that noise, the torches carried by some of the wall guards became visible. Drizzt could almost feel Tim's fear while the orc wrapped bandages to disguise his face, and he started to have second thoughts, what if the guards shot without asking questions first? How would Bruenor react to any orc, no matter what sort of orc, being in his precious Hall? How would the rest of the battlehammer clan feel for that matter, or Wulgar, or even Cattie-Brie? With everyone's war with Obould, how would they react to one of his kind sitting with them at dinner, so to speak?
A crossbow bolt landed directly in front of his path, interrupting his thoughts. He followed where the arrow came from to a dwarven guard holding a heavy wooden crossbow standing atop the wall.
"Who goes there!" he shouted down to Drizzt, not yet noticing Tim
Drizzt looked at the dwarf and shouted back "It's me, Drizzt, and if you don't believe me, you can go get that lazy king of yours down here to prove it!" as he took off the cowl to show his face and the half-smile on it.
"Ah, should've know it was ye, we'll open the gates. Cattie's been a mite worried 'bout ya when ya did no show up after dark, ye should speak wit 'er first chance you ge…" the dwarf broke off, suddenly noticing the drow's companion. "Who're ye?" his voice turning into pure venom. As his face twisted from what it was to a deep scowl at this newcomer.
"He is a friend and partly why I am late this night." Drizzt said quickly, attempting to avoid recognition of Tim's heritage. "can we come in now?"
"Alright, seein' as e's with ye, but first, can ye give me yer name?" the guard replied, only the smallest hint of suspicion in his words. Tim flinched just a little bit as he cleared his throat and began to answer.
"My full name and title to you my good sir guardian Dwarf, is Timothy the learned, wandering scholar and student of the world. You can shorten it to Timothy, or if you like, Tim. My new and frankly really good friend Drizzt here saved my life twice so far today and I am indebted to him beyond any save one other living being." Tim said in near perfect dwarven. Stunning both the guard and Drizzt.
The guard gave a small smile, "alright then," then, shouting behind him, "Open the gates!"
"what for?" a bored voice yelled back, "is that elf back er sumtin'!"
The guard went red in anger under his beard and helmet, "Yea 'e is! And if ye don' open the gods forsaken gate, I'll throw ye in the damned river!" he burst out in a scream of rage.
The iron gates to Drizzt's left slowly started to creak open, pushing snow out of its path. Drizzt looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide at what he heard Tim say. Tim just shook his head, as if he was disappointed yet relieved at the deception that he pulled on the Dwarf atop the wall. Drizzt motioned for him to follow him through the now open gate that led right into Mithral Hall, and right into the hands of those that would kill him nary a second thought if they new what kind he was. Drizzt himself didn't know if he truly trusted Tim. After all, Obould had also risen above the famous idiocy of his race, there could be other orcs just as underhanded as Obould but with less ambition, couldn't there be? Hopefully though, Tim was not a spy and was actually was good natured as he seemed. And if that was true, that Drizzt's own trust in Tim would be enough to keep all of clan battlehammer from killing him as soon as the information such as his race was revealed. But, that was his leap of faith. Drizzt knew he had to try, at least for the memory of the goblin slave he had met years ago.