Realms of the Underdark

At the City's Edge

As Woodehous and Volo were roused from their sleep to begin another day's journey, the master traveler of all Faerun noticed a difference in their captors' demeanor.

"We're close to the city, aren't we?" Volo observed.

"I'm afraid so," Courun replied, a leather thong held in his outstretched hands. "I'm going to have to retie your hands now."

"We understand," Volo assented, "but, please, not too tight."

Dark slender fingers did their work, and the two captives were returned to their state of bound captivity in as painless a fashion as was possible.

Volo looked at the maitre d'/cook/waiter, and said out loud, "Now, that's not too bad, considering the circumstances." Then, in a softer voice, he added, "Whatever happens, stick with me, even if the alternative presented to you seems more desirable."

"What do you mean?" Woodehous whispered back.

"If they ask you to choose between a life of slavery, and the chance of being tortured right alongside me, choose the torture."

"Why?"

"I can only assure you of your deliverance back to Skullport if you remain by my side. By any means necessary, you must remain at my side," the master traveler insisted, biting off his last word sharply as he heard one of their drow captors once again approaching.

"You know, Pig, or Percy, or whatever you call yourself, I am really going to miss your cooking," Haukun admitted.

"Well, I appreciate the compliment," Woodehous replied, trying to maintain some dignity despite his current situation.

"You know," the drow continued, "once we turn Volo over to the matron mother, we might be able to put in a good word for you with one of the ruling households, and perhaps get you a kitchen position rather than farming duty or worse."

"Why, thank you," the maitre d'/cook/waiter replied, quickly making eye contact with his fellow captive, "but if it's all the same to you, I think I'd rather stay with my friend Volo here. Companions to the end and all that rot, if you know what I mean."

"No, not really," the drow replied, scratching his ebony forehead in puzzlement, then running his delicate digits back through his flowing white mane of hair. "But if that's what you really want, far be it from me to stand in your way. Just seems like a damned shame waste of a good cook."

"I'm sure Menzoberranzan has plenty of good cooks," Volo offered.

"Not that I recall," Haukun answered, "but it has been a long time."

The party had no sooner resumed their journey to the city when they came into contact with other travelers, the only time since the encounter with the pair of kuo-toa. A detachment of drow warriors traveling in the opposite direction waved them on, and a drow merchant with a lizard bearing his goods passed by, hardly even noticing them, lost in a conversation with an illithid companion.

"I wonder if he knows Malix," Woodehous said out loud.

"Not likely," Volo answered. "Though mind flayers are fairly common around here, not many of them maintain contact with others who have decided to make their lives on the surface."

"Oh," the former maitre d'/cook/waiter replied, wondering from which dull, boring text his fellow companion in captivity was quoting this time.

"Keep your heads down as we enter the city," Courun instructed, "and try to look oppressed and sullen."

"No problem," Woodehous replied in all sincerity.

Glancing back at the mind flayer and the merchant, Volo noticed that they seemed to be pointing to the path from which the foursome had come.

"I almost forgot," Volo said to himself. Then, out loud, he said, "Courun, I think Percy and I have to take our boots off before we get into the city."

"Why?" the captor inquired.

"Custom, I think," the gazetteer explained, making it up as he went along, "at least that's what I heard, and we wouldn't want to get things off on the wrong foot, I mean, just when you and Haukun are on the verge of returning to respectability."

Courun turned to Haukun, and asked, "Do you remember anything about captives having to be brought into the city barefoot?"

"No," Haukun answered, "but you and I have been away for a long time, and he does seem to know a lot about these types of things."

The two drow helped their captives off with their boots while the puzzled Woodehous looked at his companion for assurance.

"Believe me," the gazetteer asserted, "it's important."

Woodehous realized this last comment was strictly for his own reassurance.

Luckily for the two bound captives, the road ahead was smooth, posing little threat to the delicate soles of their feet. The former maitre d'/cook/waiter noticed that Volo took more than a passing interest in their surroundings, as if he were trying to memorize everything in a matter of seconds.

The road opened out into a huge cavern, within which the city was situated.

All four travelers were momentarily speechless in awe of its magnificence.

"Araurikaurak," Volo mouthed, his eyes wide in wonder.

"No," Courun corrected, "Menzoberranzan."

"I was just using its dwarven name," Volo replied, adding absently, still in awe of its splendor, "It's just as I pictured it."

"You mean, as you remembered it," Woodehous corrected, asking, "don't you?"

"Whatever," the master traveler replied absently, "… and I am here now."