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somarielFinding a Place to Belong (2709 words) by Somariel
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Drizzt Do'Urden, Kellindil (Dungeons & Dragons), Alustriel Silverhand, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Canon-Typical Violence
Summary:
Hearing that Drizzt had—at least tentatively—accepted Mielikki as his patron was not wholly unexpected, given DeBrouchee's earlier mention of the young drow as his student, but learning that he was so favored by Her (or ranger-called, as DeBrouchee had put it) as to have been able to convince a bear to share its winter den with him left Kellindil wondering what critical fate lay ahead of his young friend. And friend Drizzt truly was, odd as that still seemed at times.
Kellindil continued pondering that even as he left the grove to go find his kin, and by the time he had rejoined them, he had made a decision. So once he had told them of the battle, he left again, and returned to the grove.
The argument with DeBrouchee that resulted from his offer to assist in teaching Drizzt all the skills a ranger needed was exactly as contentious as Kellindil had expected it would be, but in the end, the blind ranger did concede that purely physical skills such as archery and tracking were more easily taught by someone fully sighted and younger in body, and that being able to fully focus his lessons on the skills only another ranger could teach would be useful, especially as Kellindil was willing to largely work the physical lessons in around DeBrouchee's own. And so, Kellindil joined Drizzt and DeBrouchee in residing in the grove.
As the summer wore on, and then waned into autumn, Kellindil found himself becoming quite glad that he had offered his assistance in teaching Drizzt. Montolio—as the elf had come to call the blind ranger—had from the beginning allowed for the occasional day devoted solely to physical lessons, but those days were slowly becoming more frequent, and Kellindil had noticed other signs that the man was experiencing more of the frailties of old age.
By the time autumn had truly started, Montolio was no longer leaving the grove at all, though he did still give what lessons he could within it.
While Montolio had survived the winter, he had also faded noticeably during it, to the point that Kellindil had ended up having a frank discussion of human aging with Drizzt well before the blind ranger had gotten his student to promise to leave the grove after his death. So the elf was rather unsurprised to wake one morning, a couple weeks after the equinox, and see Drizzt sitting by Montolio's bedroll, blinking back tears as he held the unmoving ranger's hand.
"Drizzt?" Kellindil said softly, not wanting to disturb his friend's mourning if the death had just happened, but needing to know how he was coping.
"He smiled as he died," Drizzt said, reaching up to wipe away a tear. "I came back in from my sunrise vigil and just knew something was wrong with him. So I came over, and he opened his eyes and smiled, and then his breathing got slower and slower until it stopped."
Kellindil had helped Drizzt grieve Montolio after the drow had buried his teacher’s body in a cairn beside the grove, but even so, the elf was finding himself reluctant to leave his young friend so soon after his loss.
And yet, less than two weeks later, Drizzt started sorting through Montolio’s books and occasionally setting one off to the side, away from the others. When the drow then got out a pack and started winnowing the selected books even further, Kellindil knew his friend was preparing to leave the grove as he had promised.
“Have you given any thought to how you will fulfill your promise to Montolio?” Kellindil asked, once Drizzt had narrowed things down far enough to put three books into the pack.
“Given what I am, I had been assuming that I would simply have to hope I could find someplace willing to let me prove my intentions,” Drizzt replied. “Do you have a different suggestion?”
“A recommended destination, at least,” Kellindil said.
Drizzt tilted his head quizzically, and Kellindil took that for an invitation to continue. “The city of Silverymoon—which sits on the River Rauvin, a bit to the west of the Nether Mountains—has a reputation as being welcoming to all goodly folk, regardless of the reputation a person’s species has.”
“And you think this welcoming reputation would hold true even for a drow?”
“Given that it is said the reason for the reputation is that the city’s wards keep out all evil non-humans, I do.”
Drizzt considered that for a bit. He wasn’t sure he believed it—and if the wards did act as claimed, why did they not also exclude evil humans?—but it would at least be a destination for him to aim for, instead of wandering completely at random. “Show me where it is on the map?” he asked.
“Of course,” Kellindil replied.
For all that Drizzt had chosen to make Silverymoon his destination, he did not head directly for the city. Instead, he meandered, exploring the wilds as he traveled, and following the intermittent pulls on his instincts—which he was coming to understand were guidance from Mielikki—that always led him to some threat that needed to be dealt with. So by the time he had left the Nether Mountains and started coming across farms on the plains to the west of them, it was already several weeks past the solstice.
And it was as he watched the people on those farms, seeing how similar they were to the ones on the farms around Maldobar, that his skepticism of Silverymoon’s reputation, which had never entirely gone away, came surging back to the fore. If the farmers were so similar, what reason did he have to believe that the people in the city would be any less similar?
But… Kellindil had truly seemed to believe that Drizzt would find a welcome in the city, so he resolved to continue observing, dealing with threats as needed, and see how—or if—things changed as he got closer to the city.
Over the next few months, Silverymoon’s Knights in Silver found themselves receiving a steady trickle of reports from the farms and small settlements to the east of the city, about various threats—ranging from dire beasts, through bands of goblins, and on to small groups of orcs—found mysteriously dead, and the locations made it clear that the cause of those deaths—what or who ever it was—was slowly working its way closer to the city, though in a very indirect manner, as the reports ranged nearly a full quarter circle from the northeast to the southeast.
Three days after Highharvestide, Besnell looked up from reviewing those reports as a tap on his office’s doorframe was immediately followed by Korvallen stalking in, closing the door, and dropping into the chair on the other side of his desk. “What happened?” the commander of the Knights in Silver asked his friend.
“The mysterious protector struck again,” Korvallen replied. “Seven orcs, dead before we arrived.”
“That’s the third time this protector has dealt with a reported threat before the patrol sent in response arrived,” Besnell said. “Between that and the full dozen times whoever it is has handled a threat before any request for a patrol became necessary, I truly wish I could thank them.”
“I’d settle for finding out why they’ve never allowed themself to be seen by anyone,” Korvallen countered. “Someone good enough to handle seven orcs by themself choosing to remain unseen raises my hackles.”
Perched in a tree that gave him a good view of both halves of the large camp of orcs he'd been watching for two days, Drizzt once again tried to figure out some way of dealing with them that didn't require half of them to leave for another raid.
However, as he surveyed the area around the camp for anything that he might be able to use in such an endeavor, movement on the far side of the camp from where he had first approached it caught his eye.
As he watched, four people in the heavier armor that he had learned indicated one of Silverymoon's protectors quietly entered the clearing that held that half of the camp, followed by someone in the lighter armor of a protector in training, a person in wizard robes, and a third in what looked like leather armor.
To Drizzt's dismay, a look at the other half of the camp, as the four protectors moved forward to engage the orcs now rushing towards them, revealed that there was not a similar force engaging from that side. Which meant that these goodly people were entering a fight they couldn't win, since even with as skilled as Silverymoon's protectors had shown themselves to be, this group could no more handle eighteen orcs than Drizzt and Guen could. Or at least, they could not do so without assistance.
Decision made, Drizzt started moving to get down from the tree even as the orcs the patrol was currently unaware of started moving to join the fight.
If Talaris had not currently needed to focus every bit of his concentration on keeping himself alive, he would have been swearing creatively. The nine orcs Ranger Kethra had seen when she scouted their camp would have been a manageable fight, but twice that number was not. Nor could he blame the young ranger for not having realized there were more, not when nine were quite enough to have been responsible for both slaughtered settlements, and the rest of them had been well concealed.
Finally managing to get free of the fight for long enough to teleport up into the lower branches of a tree, he took a moment to catch his breath, surveying the whole fight while he did so.
A disturbance among the orcs on the far side of the fight caught his attention, and a moment later, a globe of darkness dropped over several of them. And while any aid was appreciated right now, Talaris couldn't help feeling a twinge of concern over that aid using a magic so associated with drow.
The roar of a great cat, sounding much closer, drew him away from that thought, and he looked down in time to see a panther twice the size of any ordinary one take out the legs of one of the orcs pressing Kethra and Nesry. Well then. That was surely an astral panther, so maybe his concerns were unfounded.
Drizzt dismissed his darkness, certain that none of the six orcs he had caught within it were still standing. And after a quick check to make sure they were all dead, he looked around the battlefield to see if he could give further aid.
The four protectors had things well in hand, dropping the last of their opponents even as he looked, and the person in leather armor was... keeping watch while the protector in training helped the wizard down from a tree? Oh, that had been a smart move on the wizard's part.
But even as he thought that, Guen's return to his side drew the attention of all seven of them to him. "I am no enemy," he called, "just a ranger of Mielikki."
That drew a snort of disbelief from the elf among the protectors, but another—a human male who seemed to be in charge, if the quelling look he gave the elf was any indication—nodded.
"I am Darvin, Knight-Sergeant in the Knights in Silver," the human said, "and my companions and I are grateful for your aid. May we know the names of our saviors?"
"I am Drizzt Do'Urden," Drizzt replied, "and my friend here is Guen.
"If you wish to search the bodies and the other half of their camp, I can call the carrion feeders once you are finished with that."
For all that he'd thrown a reproaching look at Trisvarithandra for openly expressing her disbelief, Darvin was fairly skeptical himself of the drow's claim to be a ranger. But a claim of being able to call the carrion feeders was something that could actually be proven true or false, so either the drow was expecting the offer to be rejected, or he was telling the truth.
Every sense on high alert in case it was the former, Darvin said, "That would be quite helpful, thank you."
Suppressing a sigh of relief when the drow's response was to go sit down with his back to a tree and start cleaning his blades, Darvin began giving orders to the rest of the patrol.
Taking a seat in the Lady's meeting room of the day for the appointment he had arranged after Darvin and Talaris had finished briefing him on the most unusual ranger their patrol had brought back to the city, Besnell took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking.
"My lady," he began, "am I correct in thinking that Korvallen has been keeping you informed about the mysterious protector that has been slowly working their way towards the city from the east?"
"You are," Alustriel replied, her curiosity roused by such an opening statement, when a same-day appointment with Besnell always meant a briefing on a problem or a delicate situation. "I take it there have been developments in that situation?"
"Indeed there have," Besnell said. "A patrol was sent out to deal with what was thought to be a small band of orcs that had slaughtered two small settlements.
"However, the band turned out to be a large one that had cleverly concealed half their number, and the patrol ended up being saved by a most unusual ranger of Mielikki and his animal companion."
"Silverymoon has welcomed unusual rangers before," Alustriel said, "so what is it about this one that makes it necessary to brief me about him?"
"He's a drow."
Alustriel's brows rose at that statement. "That is most unusual, indeed," she agreed. And for more reasons than Besnell likely realized. "I should be expecting a meeting with a representative from the Glade sometime in the next day or two, then?"
"The Knight in charge of the patrol had one of the others bring the ranger to the Glade, once they returned, so yes, I would think so."
Settling in her rooms after the evening festivities she had attended, Alustriel reached for Dove over the anklets, and sent ~Drizzt Do'Urden has come to Silverymoon, on the advice of the elf that was in your party.~
~What?~ Dove spluttered. ~On Kellindil's advice?~
There was a distinct pause, and then Dove continued, far more composed. ~I'm glad to know Drizzt has found welcome in Silverymoon, but last I knew, he was learning from Montolio DeBrouchee, and Kellindil was only going to keep an eye on him. What happened?~
~My only knowledge of events prior to this summer is what Tathshandra has shared of the account Drizzt gave to her,~ Alustriel replied, ~but according to her, DeBrouchee died this spring, and Drizzt had promised to leave and find his own place after that happened.
~As for Kellindil's involvement, he apparently took over the physical lessons at some point.~
~Oh, I'm definitely going to have to get in touch with him,~ Dove said. ~For all he was willing to admit that the barghests had murdered the farmers, he was still quite skeptical of Drizzt actually being good.~
~Speaking of Drizzt being good,~ Alustriel said, ~have you told Qilué about him yet?~
~Do you have reason to think she doesn't know about him by now?~ Dove asked. ~By the time the chase ended, I was quite certain Eilistraee had to know of him, so surely one of the traveling bands would have made contact by now.~
~I rather think that if Drizzt knew about the Promenade, that would have been his first choice for a place to go after DeBrouchee's death,~ Alustriel said, ~not a city whose reputation he was so skeptical of that he spent months observing the people of the outlying farms and settlements as he slowly made his way closer.~
~When you put it that way, I find I have to agree with you,~ Dove admitted. ~I should probably get in touch with Kel first, though. Keep me updated about Drizzt, will you?~
~Of course.~
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Drizzt Do'Urden, Kellindil (Dungeons & Dragons), Alustriel Silverhand, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Canon-Typical Violence
Summary:
Sometimes, it just takes being pointed along a path to help find your way.
A continuation of Merfilly and ilyena_sylph's fic Distrust and Learning Better
Finding a Place to Belong
Hearing that Drizzt had—at least tentatively—accepted Mielikki as his patron was not wholly unexpected, given DeBrouchee's earlier mention of the young drow as his student, but learning that he was so favored by Her (or ranger-called, as DeBrouchee had put it) as to have been able to convince a bear to share its winter den with him left Kellindil wondering what critical fate lay ahead of his young friend. And friend Drizzt truly was, odd as that still seemed at times.
Kellindil continued pondering that even as he left the grove to go find his kin, and by the time he had rejoined them, he had made a decision. So once he had told them of the battle, he left again, and returned to the grove.
The argument with DeBrouchee that resulted from his offer to assist in teaching Drizzt all the skills a ranger needed was exactly as contentious as Kellindil had expected it would be, but in the end, the blind ranger did concede that purely physical skills such as archery and tracking were more easily taught by someone fully sighted and younger in body, and that being able to fully focus his lessons on the skills only another ranger could teach would be useful, especially as Kellindil was willing to largely work the physical lessons in around DeBrouchee's own. And so, Kellindil joined Drizzt and DeBrouchee in residing in the grove.
As the summer wore on, and then waned into autumn, Kellindil found himself becoming quite glad that he had offered his assistance in teaching Drizzt. Montolio—as the elf had come to call the blind ranger—had from the beginning allowed for the occasional day devoted solely to physical lessons, but those days were slowly becoming more frequent, and Kellindil had noticed other signs that the man was experiencing more of the frailties of old age.
By the time autumn had truly started, Montolio was no longer leaving the grove at all, though he did still give what lessons he could within it.
While Montolio had survived the winter, he had also faded noticeably during it, to the point that Kellindil had ended up having a frank discussion of human aging with Drizzt well before the blind ranger had gotten his student to promise to leave the grove after his death. So the elf was rather unsurprised to wake one morning, a couple weeks after the equinox, and see Drizzt sitting by Montolio's bedroll, blinking back tears as he held the unmoving ranger's hand.
"Drizzt?" Kellindil said softly, not wanting to disturb his friend's mourning if the death had just happened, but needing to know how he was coping.
"He smiled as he died," Drizzt said, reaching up to wipe away a tear. "I came back in from my sunrise vigil and just knew something was wrong with him. So I came over, and he opened his eyes and smiled, and then his breathing got slower and slower until it stopped."
Kellindil had helped Drizzt grieve Montolio after the drow had buried his teacher’s body in a cairn beside the grove, but even so, the elf was finding himself reluctant to leave his young friend so soon after his loss.
And yet, less than two weeks later, Drizzt started sorting through Montolio’s books and occasionally setting one off to the side, away from the others. When the drow then got out a pack and started winnowing the selected books even further, Kellindil knew his friend was preparing to leave the grove as he had promised.
“Have you given any thought to how you will fulfill your promise to Montolio?” Kellindil asked, once Drizzt had narrowed things down far enough to put three books into the pack.
“Given what I am, I had been assuming that I would simply have to hope I could find someplace willing to let me prove my intentions,” Drizzt replied. “Do you have a different suggestion?”
“A recommended destination, at least,” Kellindil said.
Drizzt tilted his head quizzically, and Kellindil took that for an invitation to continue. “The city of Silverymoon—which sits on the River Rauvin, a bit to the west of the Nether Mountains—has a reputation as being welcoming to all goodly folk, regardless of the reputation a person’s species has.”
“And you think this welcoming reputation would hold true even for a drow?”
“Given that it is said the reason for the reputation is that the city’s wards keep out all evil non-humans, I do.”
Drizzt considered that for a bit. He wasn’t sure he believed it—and if the wards did act as claimed, why did they not also exclude evil humans?—but it would at least be a destination for him to aim for, instead of wandering completely at random. “Show me where it is on the map?” he asked.
“Of course,” Kellindil replied.
For all that Drizzt had chosen to make Silverymoon his destination, he did not head directly for the city. Instead, he meandered, exploring the wilds as he traveled, and following the intermittent pulls on his instincts—which he was coming to understand were guidance from Mielikki—that always led him to some threat that needed to be dealt with. So by the time he had left the Nether Mountains and started coming across farms on the plains to the west of them, it was already several weeks past the solstice.
And it was as he watched the people on those farms, seeing how similar they were to the ones on the farms around Maldobar, that his skepticism of Silverymoon’s reputation, which had never entirely gone away, came surging back to the fore. If the farmers were so similar, what reason did he have to believe that the people in the city would be any less similar?
But… Kellindil had truly seemed to believe that Drizzt would find a welcome in the city, so he resolved to continue observing, dealing with threats as needed, and see how—or if—things changed as he got closer to the city.
Over the next few months, Silverymoon’s Knights in Silver found themselves receiving a steady trickle of reports from the farms and small settlements to the east of the city, about various threats—ranging from dire beasts, through bands of goblins, and on to small groups of orcs—found mysteriously dead, and the locations made it clear that the cause of those deaths—what or who ever it was—was slowly working its way closer to the city, though in a very indirect manner, as the reports ranged nearly a full quarter circle from the northeast to the southeast.
Three days after Highharvestide, Besnell looked up from reviewing those reports as a tap on his office’s doorframe was immediately followed by Korvallen stalking in, closing the door, and dropping into the chair on the other side of his desk. “What happened?” the commander of the Knights in Silver asked his friend.
“The mysterious protector struck again,” Korvallen replied. “Seven orcs, dead before we arrived.”
“That’s the third time this protector has dealt with a reported threat before the patrol sent in response arrived,” Besnell said. “Between that and the full dozen times whoever it is has handled a threat before any request for a patrol became necessary, I truly wish I could thank them.”
“I’d settle for finding out why they’ve never allowed themself to be seen by anyone,” Korvallen countered. “Someone good enough to handle seven orcs by themself choosing to remain unseen raises my hackles.”
Perched in a tree that gave him a good view of both halves of the large camp of orcs he'd been watching for two days, Drizzt once again tried to figure out some way of dealing with them that didn't require half of them to leave for another raid.
However, as he surveyed the area around the camp for anything that he might be able to use in such an endeavor, movement on the far side of the camp from where he had first approached it caught his eye.
As he watched, four people in the heavier armor that he had learned indicated one of Silverymoon's protectors quietly entered the clearing that held that half of the camp, followed by someone in the lighter armor of a protector in training, a person in wizard robes, and a third in what looked like leather armor.
To Drizzt's dismay, a look at the other half of the camp, as the four protectors moved forward to engage the orcs now rushing towards them, revealed that there was not a similar force engaging from that side. Which meant that these goodly people were entering a fight they couldn't win, since even with as skilled as Silverymoon's protectors had shown themselves to be, this group could no more handle eighteen orcs than Drizzt and Guen could. Or at least, they could not do so without assistance.
Decision made, Drizzt started moving to get down from the tree even as the orcs the patrol was currently unaware of started moving to join the fight.
If Talaris had not currently needed to focus every bit of his concentration on keeping himself alive, he would have been swearing creatively. The nine orcs Ranger Kethra had seen when she scouted their camp would have been a manageable fight, but twice that number was not. Nor could he blame the young ranger for not having realized there were more, not when nine were quite enough to have been responsible for both slaughtered settlements, and the rest of them had been well concealed.
Finally managing to get free of the fight for long enough to teleport up into the lower branches of a tree, he took a moment to catch his breath, surveying the whole fight while he did so.
A disturbance among the orcs on the far side of the fight caught his attention, and a moment later, a globe of darkness dropped over several of them. And while any aid was appreciated right now, Talaris couldn't help feeling a twinge of concern over that aid using a magic so associated with drow.
The roar of a great cat, sounding much closer, drew him away from that thought, and he looked down in time to see a panther twice the size of any ordinary one take out the legs of one of the orcs pressing Kethra and Nesry. Well then. That was surely an astral panther, so maybe his concerns were unfounded.
Drizzt dismissed his darkness, certain that none of the six orcs he had caught within it were still standing. And after a quick check to make sure they were all dead, he looked around the battlefield to see if he could give further aid.
The four protectors had things well in hand, dropping the last of their opponents even as he looked, and the person in leather armor was... keeping watch while the protector in training helped the wizard down from a tree? Oh, that had been a smart move on the wizard's part.
But even as he thought that, Guen's return to his side drew the attention of all seven of them to him. "I am no enemy," he called, "just a ranger of Mielikki."
That drew a snort of disbelief from the elf among the protectors, but another—a human male who seemed to be in charge, if the quelling look he gave the elf was any indication—nodded.
"I am Darvin, Knight-Sergeant in the Knights in Silver," the human said, "and my companions and I are grateful for your aid. May we know the names of our saviors?"
"I am Drizzt Do'Urden," Drizzt replied, "and my friend here is Guen.
"If you wish to search the bodies and the other half of their camp, I can call the carrion feeders once you are finished with that."
For all that he'd thrown a reproaching look at Trisvarithandra for openly expressing her disbelief, Darvin was fairly skeptical himself of the drow's claim to be a ranger. But a claim of being able to call the carrion feeders was something that could actually be proven true or false, so either the drow was expecting the offer to be rejected, or he was telling the truth.
Every sense on high alert in case it was the former, Darvin said, "That would be quite helpful, thank you."
Suppressing a sigh of relief when the drow's response was to go sit down with his back to a tree and start cleaning his blades, Darvin began giving orders to the rest of the patrol.
Taking a seat in the Lady's meeting room of the day for the appointment he had arranged after Darvin and Talaris had finished briefing him on the most unusual ranger their patrol had brought back to the city, Besnell took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking.
"My lady," he began, "am I correct in thinking that Korvallen has been keeping you informed about the mysterious protector that has been slowly working their way towards the city from the east?"
"You are," Alustriel replied, her curiosity roused by such an opening statement, when a same-day appointment with Besnell always meant a briefing on a problem or a delicate situation. "I take it there have been developments in that situation?"
"Indeed there have," Besnell said. "A patrol was sent out to deal with what was thought to be a small band of orcs that had slaughtered two small settlements.
"However, the band turned out to be a large one that had cleverly concealed half their number, and the patrol ended up being saved by a most unusual ranger of Mielikki and his animal companion."
"Silverymoon has welcomed unusual rangers before," Alustriel said, "so what is it about this one that makes it necessary to brief me about him?"
"He's a drow."
Alustriel's brows rose at that statement. "That is most unusual, indeed," she agreed. And for more reasons than Besnell likely realized. "I should be expecting a meeting with a representative from the Glade sometime in the next day or two, then?"
"The Knight in charge of the patrol had one of the others bring the ranger to the Glade, once they returned, so yes, I would think so."
Settling in her rooms after the evening festivities she had attended, Alustriel reached for Dove over the anklets, and sent ~Drizzt Do'Urden has come to Silverymoon, on the advice of the elf that was in your party.~
~What?~ Dove spluttered. ~On Kellindil's advice?~
There was a distinct pause, and then Dove continued, far more composed. ~I'm glad to know Drizzt has found welcome in Silverymoon, but last I knew, he was learning from Montolio DeBrouchee, and Kellindil was only going to keep an eye on him. What happened?~
~My only knowledge of events prior to this summer is what Tathshandra has shared of the account Drizzt gave to her,~ Alustriel replied, ~but according to her, DeBrouchee died this spring, and Drizzt had promised to leave and find his own place after that happened.
~As for Kellindil's involvement, he apparently took over the physical lessons at some point.~
~Oh, I'm definitely going to have to get in touch with him,~ Dove said. ~For all he was willing to admit that the barghests had murdered the farmers, he was still quite skeptical of Drizzt actually being good.~
~Speaking of Drizzt being good,~ Alustriel said, ~have you told Qilué about him yet?~
~Do you have reason to think she doesn't know about him by now?~ Dove asked. ~By the time the chase ended, I was quite certain Eilistraee had to know of him, so surely one of the traveling bands would have made contact by now.~
~I rather think that if Drizzt knew about the Promenade, that would have been his first choice for a place to go after DeBrouchee's death,~ Alustriel said, ~not a city whose reputation he was so skeptical of that he spent months observing the people of the outlying farms and settlements as he slowly made his way closer.~
~When you put it that way, I find I have to agree with you,~ Dove admitted. ~I should probably get in touch with Kel first, though. Keep me updated about Drizzt, will you?~
~Of course.~
