Exile

Still, when Drizzt moved away from the gathering, across the small platform and down the wide staircase, he heard only the resounding echoes of the enormous doors slamming shut behind him. Drizzt trembled as he looked down the tu

But what choice did Drizzt have? Leaving Menzoberranzan had been his decision, the right decision. Now, though, knowing better the consequences of his choice, Drizzt wondered about his resolve. Given the opportunity to do it all over again, would he now find the strength to walk away from his life among his people?

He hoped that he would.

A shuffle off to the side brought Drizzt alert. He crouched and drew his scimitars, thinking that Matron Malice had agents waiting for him who had expected him to be expelled from Blingdenstone. A shadow moved a moment later, but it was no drow assassin that came in at Drizzt. “Belwar!” he cried in relief. “I feared that you would not say farewell.”

“And so I will not.” replied the svirfneblin. Drizzt studied the burrow-warden, noticing the full pack that Belwar wore. “No, Belwar, I ca

“I do not remember asking for your permission.” the deep gnome interrupted. “I have been looking for some excitement in my life. Thought I might venture out and see what the wide world has to offer.”

“It is not as grand as you expect.” Drizzt replied grimly. “You have your people, Belwar. They accept you and care for you. That is a greater gift than anything you can imagine.”

“Agreed,” replied the burrow-warden. “And you, Drizzt Do’Urden, have your friend, who accepts you and cares for you. And stands beside you. Now, are we going to be on with this adventure, or are we going to stand here and wait for that wicked mother of yours to walk up and cut us down?”

“You ca

Belwar banged his mithril hands together. “And you, dark elf ca

Drizzt shrugged helplessly, looked once more to the stubborn determination stamped openly on Belwar’s face, and started off down the tu

For a long time afterward, Drizzt wondered if he had acted selfishly in giving in so easily to Belwar. Whatever guilt he felt, however, could not begin to compare with the profound sense of relief Drizzt knew whenever he looked down at his side, to the most honored burrow-warden’s bald, bobbing head.

Part 3.

Friends and Foes

To live or to survive? Until my second time out in the wilds of the Underdark after my stay in Blingdenstone, I never would have understood the significance of such a simple question.

When first I left Menzoberranzan, I thought survival enough; I thought that I could fall within myself, within my principles, and be satisfied that I had followed the only course open to me. The alternative was the grim reality of Menzoberranzan and compliance with the wicked ways that guided my people. If that was life, I believed, simply surviving would be far preferable.

And yet, that “simple survival” nearly killed me. Worse, it nearly stole everything that I held dear. The svirfnebli of Blingdenstone showed me a different way. Svirfneblin society; structured and nurtured on communal values and unity; proved to be everything that I had always hoped Menzoberranzan would be. The svirfnebli did much more than merely survive. They lived and laughed and worked, and the gains they made were shared by the whole, as was the pain of the losses they inevitably It suffered in the hostile subsurface world.

Joy multiplies when it is shared among friends, but grief diminishes with every division. That is life.

And so, when I walked back out of Blingdenstone, back into the empty Underdark’s lonely chambers, I walked with hope. At my side went Belwar; my new friend, and in my pocket went the magical figurine that could summon Guenhwyvar; my proven friend. In my brief stay with the deep gnomes, I had witnessed life as I always had hoped it would be―I could not return to simply surviving.

With my friends beside me, I dared to believe that I would not have to.

Chapter 12.

Wilds, Wilds, Wilds

“Did you set it?” Drizzt asked Belwar when the burrow-warden returned to his side in the winding passage.

“The fire pit is cut.” Belwar replied, tapping his mithril hands triumphantly―but not too loudly―together. “And I rumpled the extra bedroll off in a corner. Scraped my boots all over the stone and put your neck-purse in a place where it will be easily found. I even left a few silver coins under the blanket―I figure I’ll not be needing them anytime soon, anyway.” Belwar managed a chuckle, but despite the disclaimer, Drizzt could see that the svirfneblin did not so easily part with valuables.

“A fine deception,” Drizzt offered, to take away the sting of the cost.

“And what of you, dark elf?” Belwar asked. “Have you seen or heard anything?”

“Nothing,” Drizzt replied. He pointed down a side corridor. “I sent Guenhwyvar away on a wide circuit. If anyone is near, we will soon know.”

Belwar nodded. “Good plan,” he remarked. “Setting the false camp this far from Blingdenstone should keep your troublesome mother from my kinfolk.”

“And perhaps it will lead my family to believe that I am still in the region and plan to remain.” Drizzt added hopefully. “Have you given any thought to our destination?”

“One way is as good as another,” remarked Belwar, hoisting his hands out wide. “No cities are there, beyond our own, anywhere close. None to my knowledge, at least.”

“West, then.” offered Drizzt. “Around Blingdenstone and off into the wilds, straight away from Menzoberranzan.”

“A wise course, it would seem,” agreed the burrow-warden. Belwar closed his eyes and attuned his thoughts to the emanations of the stone. Like many Underdark races, deep gnomes possessed the ability to recognize magnetic variations in the rock, an ability that allowed them to judge direction as accurately as a surface dweller might follow the sun’s trail. A moment later, Belwar nodded and pointed down the appropriate tu

“West.” Belwar said. “And quickly. The more distance you put between yourself and that mother of yours, the safer we all shall be.” He paused to consider Drizzt for a long moment, wondering if he might be prodding his new friend a bit too deeply with his next question.

“What is it?” Drizzt asked him, recognizing his apprehension.

Belwar decided to risk it, to see just how close he and Drizzt had become. “When first you learned that you were the reason for the drow activity in the eastern tu

Drizzt’s chuckle put Belwar at ease, told the deep gnome that he had not pressed too far. “Come,” Drizzt said, seeing Guenhwyvar return from the scouting trek. “If the deception of the camp is complete, then let us take our first steps into our new life. Our road should be long enough for tales of my home and family.”