The Thousand Orcs - By R. A. Salvatore Page 0,16

deals so poor that the Clan Battlehammer dwarves ultimately refused. The lone exception arrived soon after highsun.

"Well, show me yer work, halfling," Torgar bade Regis.

A dozen heads, those of Torgar's friends, bobbed eagerly behind him.

"Regis," the halfling explained, extending his hand, which Torgar took in a firm and friendly shake.

"Show me, Regis," the dwarf said. "Me and me friends'll need a bit o' convincing to be spendin' our gold pieces on anything ye can't drink!"

That brought a laugh from all the dwarves, Battlehammer and Mirabarran alike, and from Regis. The halfling was wondering if he should consider using his enchanted ruby necklace, with its magical powers of persuasion, to "convince" the dwarves of a good deal. He dismissed that thought almost immediately, though, reminding himself of how stubborn some dwarves could be against any kind of magic. Regis also considered the implications on the relationship between Mithral Hall and Mirabar should he get caught.

Still, soon enough it became apparent to Regis that he wouldn't need the pendant's influence. The dwarves had come well stocked with coin, and many of their friends joined them. The goods on the wagons, Regis's work and many other items, began to disappear.

From the window of the house, Bruenor and Dagnabbit watched the bazaar with growing satisfaction as dozens and dozens of new patrons, almost exclusively dwarves, followed Torgar's lead. They also noted, with a mixture of apprehension and hope, the grim faces of those others nearby, humans mostly, looking upon the eager and animated trading with open disdain.

"I'm thinking that ye've knocked a wedge down the middle o' Mirabar by coming here," Dagnabbit observed. "Might be that fewer curses'll flow from the lips o' the dwarfs here when we're on the road out."

"And more curses than ever'll be flowing from the mouths o' the humans," Bruenor added, and he seemed quite pleased by that prospect.

Quite pleased indeed.

A short while later, Torgar, carrying a bag full of purchases, knocked on the door.

"Ye're coming to tell me that yer marchion's too busy," Bruenor said as he answered the knock, pulling the door open wide.

"He's got his own business, it seems," Torgar confirmed.

"Bet he didn't answer yer knock," Dagnabbit remarked from behind Bruenor.

Torgar shrugged helplessly.

"How about yerself?" Bruenor asked. "And yer boys? Ye got yer own business, or ye got time to come in and share some drink?"

"Got no coins left."

"Didn't ask for none."

Torgar chewed his lip a bit.

"I can't be speaking as a representative o' Mirabar," he explained.

"Who asked ye to?" Bruenor was quick to reply. "A good dwarf's putting more into his mouth than he's spilling out. Ye got some tales to tell that I ain't heared, to be sure. That's more than worth the price o' some ale."

And so, with Torgar's agreement, they had a party that night in the unremarkable stone house on the windswept streets of Mirabar. More than a hundred Mirabarran dwarves made an appearance, with most staying for some time, and many sleeping right there on the floor.

Bruenor wasn't surprised to find the house surrounded by armed, grim-faced soldiers -humans, not dwarves -when daylight broke.

It was lime for Bruenor and his friends to go.

Torgar and his buddies would find a bit of trouble over this, no doubt, but when Bruenor looked back at him with concern, the tough old veteran merely winked and grinned.

"Ye find yer way to Mithral Hall, Torgar Delzoun Hammerstriker!" Bruenor called back to him as the wagons began to roll back out the gates. "Ye bring all the friends ye want, and all the tales ye can tell! We'll find enough food and drink to make ye belch, and a warm bed for as long as ye want to warm yer butt in it!"

No one on the caravan from Icewind Dale missed the scowls the human guards offered at those dangerous remarks.

"You do like to cause trouble, don't you," Regis said to Bruenor.

"The marchion was too busy for me, eh?" Bruenor replied with a smirk. "He'll be wishing he met with me, don't ye doubt."

Drizzt, Catti-brie, and Wulfgar linked up with Bruenor's wagon when it and the others had rejoined the bigger caravan outside the city gates.

"What happened in there?" the dark elf asked.

"A bit o' intrigue, a bit o' fun," Bruenor replied, "and a bit o' insurance that if Mirabar e'er decides to openly fight against Mithral Hall, they'll be missing a few hunnerd o' their shorter warriors!"
Chapter 3 RETREAT INTO VICTORY
"Ye gotta keep running!" Nikwillig scolded Tred.

The wounded dwarf was slumped against a boulder, sweat