show the elf that she had no weapon. "You requested an audience, and so you have found one."
Le'lorinel relaxed, just a bit, one hand slipping down from the weapon hilt. A glance to the left and the right showed that no one was concealed in the small and sparsely furnished room, so the elf took a stride forward.
The right cross came out of nowhere, a heavy slug that caught the unsuspecting elf on the side of the jaw.
Only the far wall kept the staggering Le'lorinel from falling to the floor. The elf struggled against waves of dizziness and disorientation, fighting to find some center of balance.
The third guard, the largest of the trio, came visible, the concealing enchantment dispelled with the attack. Smiling evilly through a couple of crooked yellow teeth, the brute waded in with another heavy punch, this one blowing the air out of the stunned elf s lungs.
Le'lorinel went for dagger and sword, but the third punch, an uppercut, connected squarely under the elf's chin, lifting Le'lorinel into the air. The last thing Le'lorinel saw was the approach of the other two, one of them with its huge fists wrapped in chains.
A downward chop caught the elf on the side of the head, bringing a myriad of flashing explosions.
All went black.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Information is not so high a price to pay," Val-Doussen said dramatically - as he said everything dramatically - waving his arms so that his voluminous sleeves seemed more like a raven's wings. "Is it so much that I ask of you?"
Drizzt dropped his head and ran his fingers through his thick white hair, glancing sidelong at Catti-brie as he did. The two had come to the Hosttower of the Arcane, Luskan's wizards guild, in hopes that they would find a mage traveling to Ten-Towns, one who might deliver a message to Bruenor. They knew the dwarf to be terribly worried, and the things they'd learned concerning Wulfgar, while not confirming that he was alive, certainly pointed in that positive direction. They'd been directed to this black-robed eccentric, Val-Doussen, who'd been planning a trip to Icewind Dale for several tendays. They didn't think they were asking much of the wizard, though they were prepared to pay him, if necessary, but then the silver-haired and bearded wizard had taken a huge interest in Drizzt, particularly in the drow's origins.
He would deliver the information to Bruenor, as requested, .but only if Drizzt would give him a dissertation on the dark elf society of Menzoberranzan.
"I have not the time," Drizzt said, yet again. "I am bound for the south, for Waterdeep."
"Might that our wizardly friend here can take us to Waterdeep in a hurry," Catti-brie put in on sudden inspiration, as Val-Doussen began to nervously tug at his beard.
Across the room, the other mage in attendance, one of the guild's leaders by the name of Cannabere, began waving his arms frantically, warding off the suggestion with a look of the purest alarm on his craggy old features.
"Well, well," Val-Doussen said, picking up on Catti-brie's suggestion. "Yes, that would require a bit of effort, but it can be I done. For a price, of course, and a substantial one at that. Yes, let me think ... I take you two to Waterdeep in exchange for a thousand gold coins and two days of tales of Menzoberranzan. Yes, yes, that might do well. And of course, I'll then go to Ten-Towns, as I had planned, and speak with Bruenor - but that for yet another day of dark elven tales."
He looked up at Drizzt, bright-eyed with eagerness, but the drow merely shook his head.
"I've no tales to tell," Drizzt remarked. "I left before I knew |much of the place. In truth, I'm certain that many others, likely yourself included, know more of Menzoberranzan than I."
Val-Doussen's expression became a pout. "One day of stories, then, and I shall take your letter to Bruenor."
"No tales of Menzoberranzan," Drizzt replied firmly. He Reached under the folds of his cloak and pulled forth the letter he'd prepared for Bruenor. "I will pay you twenty gold pieces - and that is a great sum for this small favor - for you to deliver this to a councilor in Brynn Shander, where you are going anyway, with the request that he relay it to Regis of Lonelywood."
"Small favor?" Val-Doussen asked dramatically.
"We have spent more time discussing this issue than it will take you to carry through