Disclaimer: I don't own Drizzt or Guenhywvar. I'm just barrowing them for a few minutes. the Gnmonish Mafia belong to Dustin, Dante belongs to Shawn and the rest of this dysfunction little group belong to Charles, Dustin, Shannon or me. Here's chapter 2. I know its short, but I'm finishing watching Rurouni Kenshin K Enjoy! .-Kurai Catt

They neared the edge of the woods and a small strip of shops, houses and taverns came into view. There was no guard post to hinder his entry. Why canÕt it always be this easy, he mused.
The sun was setting behind him as they found The Weasel Inn. A tall, cross-eyed elf intercepted Drizzt just as he opened the door.
ÒNeed beer?Ó he asked.
Drizzt blinked. ÒWe need a room.Ó
ÒOh, Ok,Ó the elf nodded and shuffled off to the bar to pick up a trey pull of pint mugs.
ÒNever mind Ginkers. He ainÕt all right in the head,Ó said a portly middle aged man behind the bar. ÒIÕm Jevic. Welcome to The Weasel Inn, finest establishment in town. So you need a room for yourself and the missy, Ò he watched as Drizzt sat Guen on a bar stool.
ÒAnd a cleric.Ó Drizzt added.
Ò The room I can get. A cleric.. a REAL cleric might be harder to come by. Let me check around. ItÕll be a few minutes before the roomÕs ready. Make yourselves at home. Everybody else does.Ó Jevic muttered the last bit and turned back to filling up mugs of ale.
Loud laughter erupted from one of tables and then all got quiet.
ÒMakador, Oh God of all things good and frothy. Bless this, your most holy of golden liquids.Ó
A blessing? That would usually mean a cleric as present. Drizzt turned to see a giant mug appear over the table of the strangest group he had ever laid eyes one.
ÒIgnore them. TheyÕre mostly harmless, Ò said Jevic whiping down the bar.
ÒMostly Harmless?Ó Asked Guenhwyvar.
The Barkeeper smirked, ÒTheyÕre regulars. Whatever you do, Do not get into a drinking contest with them.Ó He shook hs head, ÒNever seen so much beer consumed in my life. Ò He started to walk away, ÒOh, you asked about a cleric. I found one.Ó He motioned to an surface elf, sitting at the magical beer table. He was holding a bow and strumming it like a mandolin. ÒHis name is Dante. DonÕt know which god he follows or how good he is with the healing. YouÕd probably be safer letting the wound heal on its own.Ó Jevic tossed a room key to Drizzt and went back to bartending.
Guenhwyvar looked up at Drizzt then to the group. The half -orc something, gnome, elven cleric, female drow , some little metallic thing and adwarfish looking orc thing were all gathered around a map on the table and starring at it intently.
ÒPewtervien? No such thing,Ó said the dwarf/orc .
ÒIdunno, weÕve seen weirder,Õ said the female drow,Óbut if it means more alcohol count me in.Ó
Another round of Holy Beer was summoned by the half-orc as Drizzt and Guen made thier way passed the table.
ÒHey! SheÕs got cat ears! Ò Guen heard someone say, but couldnÕt tell who said it. She was getting very tired and leaning more on Drizzt with each step.
Drinks were downed, mugs were slammed.
ÒKick da gnome!Ó giggled the drow girl just before passing out.

Both Drizzt and Guenhwyvar were glad for the quiet of the room. A good rest would do them both much good. Guen needed to get back to the Astral Plane to fully recover and apparently she needed to be in her natural form. Drizzt watched her sleeping on the bed; she appeared so peaceful at first glance. She curled up into a ball, dreaming. The ranger placed another log on the fire. Guen squirmed, kicking off the blankets. Whatever she was dreaming he doubted it pleasant. He picked up the blankets to cover her back upand was heading back to his chair when he heard his name. She was sitting up and looking right at him.
ÒWhatÕll happen if I canÕt go back?Ó She asked, her voice little more than a whisper. He didnÕt know what to say. She was afraid and he knew it. He moved to the bed and she curled up on his lap and drifted back to sleep.