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dwarf rarely enjoyed.
Drizzt noted the dwarf's dreamy glow and thought of the nights that he and Bruenor had spent on
Bruenor's Climb, their special meeting place, back in the dwarf's valley in Ten-Towns. "Too few," he
agreed.
With a resigned sigh, they set to work, Drizzt and Wulfgar starting breakfast while Bruenor and Regis
examined the map they had obtained in Luskan.
For all of his grumbling and teasing about the halfling, Bruenor had pressured him to come along for a
very definite reason, aside from their friendship, and though the dwarf had masked his emotions well, he
was truly overjoyed when Regis had come up huffing and puffing on the road out of Ten-Towns in a last-
minute plea to join the quest.
Regis knew the land south of the Spine of the World better than any of them. Bruenor himself hadn't
been out of Icewind Dale in nearly two centuries, and then he had been just an unbearded dwarf-child.
Wulfgar had never left the dale, and Drizzt's only trek across the world's surface had been a nighttime
adventure, skipping from shadow to shadow and avoiding many of the places the companions would
need to search out, if they were ever to find Mithril Hall.
Regis ran his fingers across the map, excitedly recalling to Bruenor his experiences in each of the
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places listed, particularly Mirabar, the mining city of great wealth to the north, and Waterdeep, true to its
name as the City of Splendors, down the coast to the south.
Bruenor slipped his finger across the map, studying the physical features of the terrain. "Mirabar'd be
more to me liking," he said at length, tapping the mark of the city tucked within the southern slopes of
the Spine of the World. "Mithril Hall's in mountains, that much I know, and not aside the sea."
Regis considered the dwarf's observations for just a moment, then plunked his finger down on yet
another spot, by the scale of the map a hundred miles and more inland from Luskan. "Longsaddle," he
said. "Halfway to Silverymoon, and halfway between Mirabar and Waterdeep. A good place to search
out our course."
"A city?" Bruenor asked, for the mark on the map was no more than a small black dot.
"A village," Regis corrected. "There are not many people there, but a family of wizards, the Harpells,
have lived there for many years and know the northland as well as any. They would be happy to help us."
Bruenor scratched his chin and nodded. "A fair hike. What might we be seeing along the way?"
"The crags," Regis admitted, a bit disheartened as he remembered the place. "Wild and orc-filled. I
wish we had another road, but Longsaddle still seems the best choice."
"All roads in the north hold danger," Bruenor reminded him.
They continued their scrutiny of the map, Regis recalling more and more as they went. A series of
unusual and unidentified markings - three in particular, running in an almost straight line due east of
Luskan to the river network south of Lurkwood - caught Bruenor's eye.
"Ancestral mounds," Regis explained. "Holy places of the Uthgardt."
"Uthgardt?"
"Barbarians," answered Regis grimly. "Like those in the dale. More wise to the ways of civilization,
perhaps, but no less fierce. Their separate tribes are all about the northland, wandering the wilds.
Bruenor groaned in understanding of the halfling's dismay, all too familiar himself with the savage
ways and fighting prowess of barbarians. Orcs would prove much less formidable foes.
By the time the two had finished their discussion, Drizzt was stretching out in the cool shade of a tree
overhanging the river and Wulfgar was halfway through his third helping of breakfast.
"Yer jaw still dances for food, I see!" Bruenor called as he noted the meager portions left on the skillet.
"A night filled with adventure," Wulfgar replied gaily, and his friends were glad to observe that the
brawl had apparently left no scars upon his attitude. "A fine meal and a fine sleep, and I shall be ready for
the road once more!"
"Well don't ye get too comfortable yet!" Bruenor ordered. "Ye've a third of a watch to keep this day!"
Regis looked about, perplexed, always quick to recognize an increase in his workload. "A third?" he
asked. "Why not a fourth?"
"The elf's eyes are for the night," Bruenor explained. "Let him be ready to find our way when the day's
flown."
"And where is our way?" Drizzt asked from his mossy bed. "Have you come to a decision for our next
destination?"
"Longsaddle," Regis replied. "Two hundred miles east and south, around Neverwinter Wood and
across the crags."
"The name is unknown to me," Drizzt replied.
"Home of the Harpells," Regis explained. "A family of wizards reknowned for their good-natured
hospitality. I spent some time there on my way to Ten-Towns."
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Wulfgar balked at the idea. The barbarians of Icewind Dale despised wizards, considering the black
arts a power employed only by cowards. "I have no desire to view this place," he stated flatly.
"Who asked ye?" growled Bruenor, and Wulfgar found himself backing down from his resolve, like a
son refusing to hold a stubborn argument in the face of a scolding by his father.
"You will enjoy Longsaddle," Regis assured him. "The Harpells have truly earned their hospitable
reputation, and the wonders of Longsaddle will show you a side of magic you never expected. They will
even accept... " He found his hand involuntarily pointing to Drizzt, and he cut short the statement in
embarrassment.
But the stoic drow just smiled. "Fear not, my friend," he consoled Regis. "Your words ring of truth,
and I have come to accept my station in your world." He paused and looked individually into each
uncomfortable stare that was upon him. "I know my friends, and I dismiss my enemies," he stated with a
finality that dismissed their worries.
"With a blade, ye do," Bruenor added with a soft chuckle, though Drizzt's keen ears caught the
whisper.
"If I must," the drow agreed, smiling. Then he rolled over to get some sleep, fully trusting in his
friends' abilities to keep him safe.
They passed a lazy day in the shade beside the river. Late in the afternoon, Drizzt and Bruenor ate a
meal and discussed their course, leaving Wulfgar and Regis soundly asleep, at least until they had eaten
their own fill.
"We'll stay with the river for a night more," Brueror said. "Then southeast across the open ground.
That'd clear us of the wood and lay open a straight path 'fore us."
"Perhaps it would be better if we traveled only by night for a few days," Drizzt suggested. "We know
not what eyes follow us out of the City of Sails."
"Agreed," replied Bruenor. "Let's be off, then. A long road before us, and a longer one after that!"
"Too long," murmured Regis, opening a lazy eye.
Bruenor shot him a dangerous glare. He was nervous about this trek and about bringing his friends on
a dangerous road, and in an emotional defense, he took all complaints about the adventure personally.
"To walk, I mean," Regis quickly explained. "There are farmhouses in this area, so there must be some
horses about." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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