Chapter 8 Chapter 6 The Road to Destruction

As usual, Le'lorinel was on the defensive, giving his opponent the upper hand, his scimitars flying furiously.The elf blocked from left to right, lowered his head and retreated, and evaded in a circle, making Tunewik's fierce attack in vain. Tunevek stumbled, cursing under his breath, knowing the fight was lost, knowing Le'lorinel would complain about his incompetence.He closed his eyes, waiting for a sword blow to the back, or the hip if Le'lorinel had been particularly intolerant that day. No hits. Tunevek turned to see the bald elf leaning against the wall, weapon aside.

"Are you even impatient to end the fight?" Tunewek asked. Le'lori turned to him absently, as if nothing had happened.The elf gazed up at the only window on this side of the tower, that of Muskevich's study room.Le'lorinel knew that behind this window, the mage got more answers. "Come on!" Le'lorinel suggested, striking each other with his knives in mid-air in front of him. "You paid me for the last fight, so let's fight!" Le'lorinel walked back and forth at last, watching the impatient warrior. "Our deal is over, now and forever."

"You pay for the last fight, and the last fight isn't over yet," Tunevek protested. "But it's over. Take your money and go. I don't need your service anymore." Tunevek gazed at the elf suspiciously and pitifully.They had been practicing fighting together for months, and now they were dismissed so casually, so nonchalantly. "Two knives," Le'lorinel said, not even looking at Tunewek, but staring up at the window. Tunevek stood there for a long time, staring suspiciously at the elf.Finally, he finally understood what was going on, and the fact of being fired left a bitter taste in his mouth. He threw his knives to the ground at Le'lorinel's feet, and walked away quickly, muttering curses.

Le'lorinel didn't even bother to reach for the knives, nor did he bother to glance at Tunewek.This fighter has done his job - not brilliant, but served the purpose - and now the job is over After a while, Le'lorinel stood in front of the door of Muskevich's research room, raised his hand and knocked on the door, but hesitated again.Muskevich didn't like all of this, Le'lorinel knew, and the mage had been sullen since the elf's return from E'kressa. Before Le'lorinel could muster up the courage to knock, the door swung open, as if automatically, and the elf saw Maskevich sitting behind his desk, his tall, pointy blue mage's hat tilted up and sideways. On the left side, several large books are opened on the oak desk in front of him, including the book written by the bard Tarasai of Silvermoon City, which records in detail the recent events in Mithril Hall, including the dwarves from gray dwarves and shadow dragons. Bruenor was chosen as king, the dark elves came with Gondaron Warhammer (Bruenor's grandfather), and finally, after a great victory against the forces of the Underdark, Bruenor gave way to Gondaron Darren, return to Icewind Dale with glory.Le'lorinel had paid dearly for this book, and he knew every word in it.

Between the books on the mage's desk, there was a parchment written by Le'lorinel to the mage. It was half-pressed by one of the books, and Ekressa's original words during the prophecy were recorded on it. "I told you, I'll call you when I'm done," said Muskevich, looking very gloomy today, without looking up. "After so many years, don't you still have no patience?" "Tunevek is gone," Le'lorinel replied. "I fired him and he's gone." Now Muskevich looked up, a concerned expression on his face. "You didn't kill him?" asked the mage.

Le'lorinel smiled. "Do you believe I am such an evil creature?" "I believe you are unreasonable," the mage replied bluntly. "Perhaps you are afraid of leaving a witness who might warn Drizzt Do'Urden of your pursuit." "Then Ekressa should be dead, shouldn't he?" Muskevich considered the statement, then accepted the simple logic with a shrug. "But Tunevek is gone?" Le'lorinel nodded. "It's a pity. I'm just beginning to like this young and capable fighter. I thought you would too." "Not such a good fighter," the elf replied, as if that was what really mattered.

"Your requesting partner must be able to imitate the famous dark elf, and he can't meet this standard," Muskevich replied immediately. "But who can?" "What did you find?" Le'lorinel asked. "Two symbols intertwined, one is Dumathoin, guardian of the secrets beneath the mountains, and the other is Crangedon, war god of the dwarves," the mage explained. "Ekressa was right." "Symbol of Bruno Warhammer," Le'lorinel explained. "Not exactly," Muskevich replied. "It's a symbol Bruno only used once, as far as I know. He's quite a skilled craftsman, you know."

As he spoke, he beckoned Le'lorinel to come to him, and when the elf came over, he pointed out some drawings in Tarasai's writings: ordinary weapons and a breastplate. “Bruno’s work,” Muskevich says, and indeed, the captions to the images say it all. "I don't see anything like the mark that E'kressa gave you, however. There," he explained, pointing to a small mark in the lower corner of the breastplate, "is Bruno's mark, a cup marked with the hammer Family mark with two 'B's for Bruno's initials. Le'lorinel bent down to examine the drawing carefully, and just as Muskevich pointed out, he saw the bubbling cups used by the dwarves and Bruno's special logo.Of course, the elf had already seen all this, although it seemed that Maskevich had sorted out clues that Le'lorinel hadn't.

"All I can tell is that Bruno used this universal mark to identify all his works," explained Mages. "That's not what the prophet told me." "Ah," said the mage, holding up a curved, slender finger, "but there is still here." After speaking, he turned to another page of the big book, and on it was another painting, which was very detailed. Depicting a magical warhammer, the Fang of Aegis, resting on a mount. "The artist's drawings are brilliant," explained Muskevich. "That is indeed very detailed!" He took a round magnifying glass, about four inches in diameter, and placed it over the image, magnifying the hammer.There, unmistakably, was E'kressa's mark on Le'lorinel.

"Aegis' Fang," said the elf calmly. "Bruno made it for one of his two adopted children," Muskevich said, a statement that clarifies Ekressa's vague comments and proves that the ostentatious seer can be trusted. "Find the dwarves' proudest kinship by finding the proudest handiwork of the dwarves," said the gnome fortuneteller, who admitted to referring to one of the two kin, which now seems obvious , that means two children. "Find the Fang of Aegis, and thus find Wulfgar?" Le'lorinel asked suspiciously, because as far as they both knew, according to the book, Bruenor forged the Fang of Aegis for Wulfgar. Fang, and he was dead, slain by Lolth's handmaiden, Waxmelt.

"E'kressa didn't mention Wulfgar," Muskevich replied. "Perhaps he meant Catti-brie." "Find the hammer, which leads to Catti-brie, which leads to Bruenor Warhammer, which leads to Drizzt Do'Urden," Le'lorinel sighed despondently. "Difficult guys," Muskevich said with a sly smile. "I wish to continue to be your company," he explained. "I've got so much work to do, but I'm not a young man anymore. I should have an apprentice, and you've shown extraordinary insight and intellect." "Then you must wait until my business is done," said the obstinate Elf firmly. "If I come back alive." "Extraordinary intelligence in the face of most problems," the old mage explained dryly. Le'lorinel snickered, not angry. "The group of friends around Drizzt has earned quite a reputation," Muskevich stated. "I don't want to fight Bruenor, or Catti-brie, or anyone else but Drizzt Do'Urden," said the elf. "Though perhaps there was some measure of justice in killing Drizzt's friend." Muskevich closed Tarasai's book with a loud growl, pushed the desk, and stepped back, stood upright, and stared fiercely down at the elf. "It's an overreach anyway," he chided. "So deep is your pain and hatred for that dark elf that taking innocent lives is enough to satisfy you?" Le'lorinel stared at him coldly, pursing his lips tightly. "If so, I implore you to reconsider your plans more carefully," the mage added. "In an incomprehensible pursuit, you claim justice is on your side, yet nothing - nothing at all - can justify such inexplicable murder! Did you hear me, boy? My words Can it penetrate that wall of hatred for Drizzt Do'Urden that you have erected for some unspecified reason?" "I didn't mean what I said about the woman and the dwarf," Le'lorinel admitted, and the elf looked relaxed, his expression softening, his gaze downcast. "Can't you have more constructive pursuits?" Muskevich asked sincerely. "It was your hatred of Drizzt that imprisoned you, not the dark elf." "I'm imprisoned because I know the truth," Le'lorinel agreed in a beautiful high voice. "Even so far from Mithril Hall and Ten-Towns, it hurts my heart to hear of his heroism." "You don't believe in atonement?" "I don't believe it for Drizzt, and I don't believe it for any dark elves." “What a tough attitude,” Muskevich remarked, running a knowing hand through his shaggy beard. "One day you will most likely regret it." "Perhaps I long regretted knowing the truth," answered the elf. "Better ignorance than singing the bard's song of the hero Drizzt." "Sarcasm is not an appropriate attitude." "Honesty is often painful." Maskevich tried to answer, but gave up, let out a frustrated laugh, and shook his shaggy head vigorously. "Enough," he said. "Enough is enough. We've gone too far in this circle. You know I disagree." "Understood," Le'lorinel said without flinching. "The meeting is over." "Maybe I'm wrong," Muskevich uttered his musings. "Perhaps you are not qualified to be a proper apprentice." If his words were meant to hurt Le'lorinel, they seemed to have failed miserably, as the elf just turned around and walked out of the house calmly. Maskevich sighed deeply and lowered his palms so he could lean against the desk.Over the years, he had come to like Le'lorinel, had taken the elf as his apprentice, even as his son, but he had found this self-destructive, horny restlessness and frustration to be at odds with his hopes and aspirations. A shattered reality. Maskevich also spent a lot of effort to investigate this drow rogue who was entangled with the soul of the elf, but in the east so far away from Silvermoon City, there was too little information about Drizzt, and all the mages heard , all classified this unusual dark elf as kind.So he wondered if Le'lorinel should be allowed to start his hunt, and whether it would be spiritually corrupt to do nothing in the face of an injustice that seemed so grave. When Le'lorinel found him the next morning in the spice garden on the small balcony in the middle of the gray stone tower, Maskevich was still very much puzzled by the matter. "You are skilled in teleportation," the elf explained. "I guess it would be an expensive spell if I were to buy it, since you don't agree with my goal, but I'd be willing to work for two more ten days, starting before dawn and ending after dusk, in exchange for reaching the Magical Journey to Luskan on the Coast." Muskevich didn't even look up from the spice plants, though he did stop weeding long enough to consider the offer. "I disagree, actually," he said quietly. "I beg you again to give up this stupid idea." "I tell you again, it's none of your business," the elf retorted. "Help me if you want. Otherwise, I doubt I can easily find a mage in Silvermoon City willing to sell me a simple teleportation spell." Muskevich stood up straight, even put his hands behind his hips, and bent back at the waist to stretch his muscles and bones.Then he turned back leisurely, staring deeply at the confident elf. "You really will?" asked the mage, his eyes on the elf's hand, on the onyx ring he had sold to Le'lorinel, in which he had placed the magic the elf wanted. Following his gaze, Le'lorinel immediately understood what had caught his attention. "I think you'll have enough money," said the mage. "Because I changed my mind, I'm going to buy back the ring I made." Le'lorinel smiled. "There's not enough gold in the whole world." "Bring it here," Muskevich said, holding out his hand. "I'll pay you back what you paid." Le'lorinel turned around, left the balcony, walked straight to the steps, and walked down. As soon as he got out of the tower, the angry Muskevich caught up. "This is so stupid!" he declared, dashing left and right to fend off the smaller elf. "You are ruined by hatred that transcends all reason and all morality!" "Moral?" Le'lorinel repeated suspiciously. "Because I saw the true face of a drow? Because I know the truth about Drizzt Do'Urden and don't want to live with his glorious reputation? You are wise in many things, old mage, and I have These years have been very fruitful, but you don't know anything about the task I took on." "I know you're likely to send yourself to your death." Le'lorinel shrugged and made no objection. "If I give up, then I'm dead." Muskevich yelped and shook his head violently. "Crazy!" he yelled. "It's nothing but crazy. I've had enough!" "You can't stop," Le'lorinel said, and the elf tried to get around the old man, but Maskevich moved quickly, blocking the way again. "Don't underestimate—" Muskevich started, then stopped suddenly, the point of a dagger pressed against his throat. "Take your own advice," Le'lorinel threatened. "What spells have you prepared today? Battle spells? Not much, I know, and even if you keep some now, do you believe there is a chance of casting them? Think about it, mage. A few seconds is a long time. " "Le'lorinel," Muskevich said with as much composure as he could muster. "It was only out of friendship that I put the weapon aside," said the elf calmly, and Maskevich breathed a little easier when the dagger was removed. "I had hoped that you would help me in this process, but as time draws nearer, I know your efforts to help me will diminish. Then I will forgive you for giving up, but be careful, I cannot tolerate anyone's Interference. I've waited too long, prepared too long, and now my day has come. Wish me well, for the years we've been together, if nothing else." Muskevich considered for a moment, then nodded sullenly. "I wish you well," he said. "I pray that you find in your heart a truth greater than this, a path wider than blind hatred." Le'lorinel just walked away. "He's unreasonable," came a familiar voice from behind Muskevich after a while, and the mage was looking at the empty road from which Le'lorinel had moved away, out of sight.Maskevich turned to see Tunewik standing there quite comfortably. "I hoped to dissuade him, too," Tunevek explained. "I had believed the three of us could carve out a good situation here." "What about the two of us?" Muskevich asked, and Tunewik nodded, because he and the mage had already talked about taking apprentices. "Le'lorinel is not the first elf I've seen displeased with this Drizzt Do'Urden," Tunevek explained as the two walked back into the tower. "When the drow rogues visited Arrastra in Silvermoon City on several occasions, many citizens protested openly, and most of them were light-skinned elves. The hostility between the light elves and the dark elves was undeniably deep." Muskevich cast a longing glance back at Le'lorinel's path. "Indeed," he said with a heavy heart. Sighing deeply, the old mage let go of his friend, who had made up so much of his last years. Hundreds of miles away, on a rocky road, Sheila Kree stood before a crew of hers. One of her most trusted accomplices, Gisela Werfal, commander of the Deck Embarkation Force, was astride a small, muscular sorrel mare.Though not quite as slender and attractive as the classic Bellany the Witch or the tall Jule Pepper, Gisela is far from unattractive.Even with her blond hair cropped short, it was still thick and lustrous, matching her soft blue eyes and her pale complexion, which was creamy after spending so much time on the deck of a ship.Gisela was a small woman with a strong build to match her mount, and she was perhaps the best weapon wielder on the deck of the Bloody Keel, save for Sheila Kree herself.He favors short swords and daggers.On the latter, she can throw as accurately as anyone who has ever played for Sheila Kree. "Bellaney wouldn't agree to that," Gisela said. "Bellaney will be happy if the job is done," replied Sheila Kree. She eyed Gisela's chosen companions, a trio of ferocious half-ogres, a little sourly.The three will walk and not ride, because no horse can bear one of them sitting on its back.This doesn't seem to slow Gisela's journey at all to the Luskan docks, where a small rowboat will be waiting, for their ogre blood has given them big, agile strides and superhuman stamina. them. "Have you got those potions?" asked the pirate captain. Gisela lifted one side of her brown traveling cloak to reveal small vials. "My companions will look human enough to pass through the gates of Luskan and down the docks of Waterdeep," the rider assured her captain. "If the Sea Spirit is in..." "We don't go near Deudermont's house," Gisela continued. Sheila Kree wanted to say something more, but stopped, and nodded, reminding herself that this was Gisela, smart and independent, the second of her crew after Bellany to bear that mark.Gisela knew not only how this would go according to plan, but any alternatives if the original plan couldn't be done.She'd get the job done, and Captain Deudermont and the other fools on the Sea Sprite would understand that maybe it wasn't a wise thing for them to go after Sheila Kree.