By R.A. Salvatore
Go back to the town of Spiders!
Still reeling from the demise of Wulfgar, Drizzt is permitted little time to grieve, for darkish elves are massing within the caverns deep lower than Mithral corridor. to guard his followed domestic, he will need to go back to town of his delivery, the evil urban of Spiders. Menzoberranzan is among the most threatening locations within the already perilous Underdark on a superb day, yet for Drizzt, a renegade with a cost on his head, its definite dying ever to set foot there back. yet Drizzt Do'Urden and his partners have confronted sure loss of life prior to, and may gladly spend their lives for the sake of the dwarves of Mithral corridor.
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Extra info for Starless Night: The Legend of Drizzt, Book VIII
Within the chapel, Jarlaxle learned, for Sos’Umptu used to be caretaker of the wondrous Baenre chapel and infrequently left where. The mercenary paused for only a second to think about the revelation. Mez’Barris used to be the matron mom of residence Barrison Del’Armgo, the city’s second-ranking condominium. yet why could she be on the Baenre compound if, as Matron Baenre had declared, Barrison Del’Armgo had already agreed to the excursion? Why certainly. “Perhaps you'll have obvious to Matron Mez’Barris first,” the mercenary acknowledged slyly to Matron Baenre. The withered outdated matron authorised his comment in sturdy cheer; it confirmed her that her favourite secret agent was once pondering essentially. “K’yorl was once the extra difficult,” Baenre answered. “To retain that one ready may have positioned her in a fouler temper than traditional. Mez’Barris is calmer by means of a long way, extra realizing of the profits. she's going to conform to the battle with the dwarves. ” Matron Baenre walked via the mercenary to the marble cylinder; Sos’Umptu used to be already within, ready. “Besides,” the 1st matron mom extra with a depraved grin, “now that apartment Oblodra has come into the alliance, what selection does Mez’Barris have? ” She was once too attractive, this outdated one, Jarlaxle agreed. Too appealing. He forged one ultimate, plaintive examine the great diamonds at the fingers of Baenre’s throne, then sighed deeply and the 2 ladies out of condominium Baenre’s nice stronghold. atti-brie pulled her grey cloak approximately her to conceal the dagger and masks she had taken from Regis. combined emotions assaulted her as she neared Bruenor’s deepest chambers; she was hoping either that the dwarf will be there, and that he wouldn't. How may possibly she depart with out seeing Bruenor, her father, another time? And but, the dwarf now looked as if it would Catti-brie a shell of his former self, a wallowing outdated dwarf ready to die. She didn’t are looking to see him like that, didn’t are looking to take that snapshot of Bruenor together with her into the Underdark. She lifted her hand to knock at the door to Bruenor’s sitting room, then lightly cracked the door open as an alternative and peeked in. She observed a dwarf status off to the part of the burning fireplace, however it wasn’t Bruenor. Thibbledorf Pwent, the battlerager, hopped approximately in circles, it sounds as if attempting to trap a pesky fly. He wore his sharp-ridged armor—as always—complete with glove nails and knee and elbow spikes, and different lethal issues sticking out from each believable attitude. The armor squealed because the dwarf spun and jumped, an frustrating sound if Catti-brie had ever heard one. Pwent’s open-faced grey helm rested within the chair beside him, its most sensible spike part as tall because the dwarf. with out it, Catti-brie may see, the battlerager was once nearly bald, his ultimate skinny black strands of hair raveled greasily to the edges of his head, then giving technique to a huge, hairy black beard. Catti-brie driven the door a bit farther and observed Bruenor sitting prior to the low-burning hearth, absently attempting to turn a log in order that its embers could flare to existence back. His halfhearted poke opposed to the gleaming log made Catti-brie wince. She remembered the times no longer goodbye in the past, whilst the boisterous king may have easily reached into the fireplace and smacked the obdurate log along with his naked hand.