After Orwen and Inriole left, Drizzt was taken back to his cell by the two guards, and pushed inside. He collapsed on the damp earth near the back wall. In the long hours that followed his return to the cell, barely a coherent thought passed through his mind. He was numb with the realization that nothing he could do would prevent his death the next day. Drizzt didn't fear death, but he was sad and angry that he would die not in battle, at the hands of an enemy, but instead at the hands of an executioner, in front of a jeering crowd. The fact that rankled most was that he hadn't even done anything wrong. This execution would not be for any crime of his own but instead for the evil deeds of his entire race. Drizzt knew that had a human or a light elf rescued Inriole, they would have been hailed as a hero. Drizzt understood well the irony of his situation, and it truly stung his heart to know that there was nothing he could have done to avoid this fate. No matter what, this death would have caught up with him sooner or later. Even though he was resigned to his fate that night, Drizzt did not sleep.
Drizzt was not surprised when the guard slammed open his cell door. For the past hour, Drizzt had lain back and listened to the activities of the guards outside. They had been arguing about which of them would get him from the cell for the past ten minutes. Evidently this man had lost.
Holding the cell door open with one hand, the guard motioned at Drizzt. "Get up, drow!" Drizzt got slowly to his feet, hampered by the heavy manacles. He stood near the back of the cell, waiting for the guard to do something. The man eventually shouted to one of his friends to old the door open. After he had, the guard moved slowly forward, toward Drizzt. He bent over, and keeping his eyes on the drow's the entire time, slowly picked up the end of the chain. Having done so, he led Drizzt out of the cell. Two more guards took up positions behind Drizzt as he was led through the prison complex. Finally they reached a corridor that Drizzt hadn't seen before. The guard led him down it to a door in the wall. He pushed open the door and bright sunlight flooded through. Drizzt inhaled sharply as the light stung his eyes. The guards forced him through the door, and into a busy marketplace. After his first blinding look, Drizzt kept his eyes to the ground, which was why he didn't see the tomato that came hurling through the air at him. It hit him squarely on his head, throwing it sideways. The tomato exploded on impact and covered Drizzt's white hair with ooze and dripping seeds. Drizzt jerked his head up and glared in the direction the missile had come from. His lavender eyes seemed filled with fire. He knew that he was going to his execution, but he had not expected to be so humiliated. As Drizzt stared at the crowd of people that the tomato had come from, laughter broke out. The guards continued to force Drizzt down the street. One by one, more missiles were thrown and more laughter rang out. Drizzt was hit by vegetables, fruit, and even a fish. None of these hurt as much as the indignity of it all. The laughter seemed to burn inside Drizzt, firing his anger and making him long to prove his true self to all the people laughing. However, by the time the guard had towed Drizzt all the way to the town square, his hatred had turned into mere pity for the townspeople, that they could not see the real him, and worse, did not even want to try.
Lifting his head at the end of the onslaught, Drizzt saw the gallows rearing up ahead of him. A crowd was already gathered. The guards led Drizzt to the foot of the platform. Drizzt squinted and searched the crowd. He was hoping that Inriole wasn't there. That Orwen hadn't brought her. She was too young to see…Drizzt laughed. If Inriole were there she wouldn't see anything. Then he spotted her. Orwen and Inriole stood neat the front of the crowd off to the left. They stood silently, although the crowd around them was screaming. "Quiet!" boomed a voice from atop the gallows' platform. Drizzt turned halfway around to see a robed man standing behind him, before the guards jerked him back around. Drizzt figured that the important looking man was the magistrate who had sentenced him. "Quiet!" the man yelled again. The crowd's volume gradually decreased to a murmur. Drizzt could feel the eyes of the crowd on him. The magistrate spoke. "Today, we come together to witness the vengeance that we can finally take on the scum that had murdered and attacked our town forever. The Drow!" The crowd roared. "This drow was caught outside the town proper, after slaughtering our elven neighbors. He will hang for his crimes!" The magistrate gestured to the guards, who forced Drizzt up the steps of the gallows. At the top of the steps, Drizzt tripped and fell to his knees.
Seemingly always ready to improvise his performance, the magistrate reached down and grabbed Drizzt's hair, hauling him to his feet. The man was much taller than the dark elf, and continued to hold Drizzt's head up high. His eyes watering from the sharp pain, Drizzt met the eyes of individuals in the crowd as they screamed and shouted at him.
Here stood a man, apparently a butcher, judging from his blood-stained apron. The man's face was red from yelling, but his eyes, when they met with Drizzt's, showed no hatred. It was as if this man was simply here to support his neighbors, and did not care either way about the fate of the dark elf before him. Only a few yards away stood a woman who was not yelling at all. She simply stood there, her slight frame shaking. Drizzt met her eyes and quickly looked away. This woman's hate was too much for him to take. He had done nothing to her, but she would be glad to see him die here merely because he looked similar to another drow who had hurt her in the past.
It registered with Drizzt that the magistrate was still speaking. "…And now, let the drow face his fate, and may the gods have no mercy on him!" The grip on his hair was released and Drizzt's head slumped to his chest. The guards manhandled the drow backward across the small platform to the center. Looking down, Drizzt could see that he now stood in the center of a trapdoor. Another guard, this one wearing a black hood, placed a thick noose around Drizzt's neck. This was it then. He was going to die now. Drizzt cleared his mind of his fear and anger. The thought of his father, and Mooshie, and Mooshie's goddess, now his goddess, Mielikki. Drizzt thought of Inriole and hoped the best for the little girl. The crowd's roar died down, until ho sound came from anywhere. Drizzt cleared his mind, and prepared for death. Suddenly a voice came from the silence. Drizzt's lavender eyes opened.
Orwen was striding across the square, shouting. "Stop!" she yelled. "You must not kill this drow." Many people in the crowd began to laugh. So did the magistrate.
"Not kill the drow? Why not? Haven't he and his kind slaughtered more of our people than we can count? Haven't they kidnapped and tortured and killed without conscience? Why should we not take our revenge when it comes to us?"
"Because he," Orwen pointed at Drizzt, "hasn't."
"Hasn't?" asked the man, his face red. "Hasn't what?"
"Done any of those things. He's not evil. He's good!" More laughter broke out and washed over Orwen. Drizzt's face flushed. He was embarrassed for Orwen to just stand there and be laughed at, even if she was right.
"A good drow?" said the magistrate. "There's no such thing."
"Yes, there is," Orwen replied. "And he's standing right there, with your noose around his neck. That is the drow that lived with the ranger Montolio, up in the mountains. The drow that stood with the ranger against the orc horde and defeated them! He is no evil drow, and ye would be the evil ones to kill him now."
"There is no such thing as a good drow," the magistrate reiterated, "and this one will die now!" The crowd roared again in response. Orwen seemed to shrink somewhat as the boos of the gathered people fell over her. Just as she turned away, she looked up and caught Drizzt's eye. To his dismay, she winked at him and left.
Orwen's departure left Drizzt puzzled. All Orwen had done was delay is execution for a few minutes. Unless she had another plan, he would still hang. The magistrate raised his hand, high in the air. The crowd roared louder, screaming for Drizzt's death. The hangman's hand was on the lever that would release the trapdoor. Drizzt closed his eyes again, waiting to die.
He heard the dull clunk the handle made as it was pulled and the gasp of the magistrate. Suddenly Drizzt was falling. He felt the tiniest jerk about his neck, and then there was nothing.