The Spine of the World - By R. A. Salvatore Page 0,10
Captain Deudermont found himself wandering not back to Sea Sprite, but along infamous Half-Moon Street, the toughest section of Luskan, the home of the Cutlass. He went in without hesitation, pulling up a chair at the first empty table. Duedermont spotted the big man before he even sat down. It was, without doubt, Wulfgar, son of Beornegar. The captain hadn't known Wulfgar very well and hadn't seen him in years, but there could be no question about it. The sheer size, the aura of strength, and the piercing blue eyes of the man gave him away. Oh, he was more haggard-looking now, with an unkempt beard and dirty clothes, but he was Wulfgar.
The big man met Duedermont's stare momentarily, but there was no recognition in the barbarian's eyes when he turned away. Deudermont became even more certain when he saw the magnificent warhammer, Aegis-fang, strapped across Wulfgar's broad back.
"Ye drinking or looking for a fight?"
Deudermont turned about to see a young woman standing beside his table, tray in hand.
"Well?"
"Looking for a fight?" the captain repeated dully, not understanding.
"The way ye're staring at him," the young woman responded, motioning toward Wulfgar. "Many's the ones who come in here looking for a fight. Many's the ones who get carried away from here. But good enough for ye if ye're wanting to fight him, and good enough for him if ye leave him dead in the street."
"I seek no fight," Deudermont assured her. "But, do tell me, what is his name?"
The woman snorted and shook her head, frustrated for some reason Deudermont could not fathom. "Wulfgar," she answered. "And better for us all if he never came in here." Without asking again if he wanted a drink, she merely walked away.
Deudermont paid her no further heed, staring again at the big man. How had Wulfgar wound up here? Why wasn't he dead? And where were Drizzt, and Catti-brie?
He sat patiently, watching the lay of the place as the hours passed, until dawn neared and all the patrons, save he and one skinny fellow at the bar, had drifted out.
"Time for leaving," the barkeep called to him. When Duerdermont made no move to respond or rise from his chair, the man's bouncer made his way over to the table.
Looming huge, Wulfgar glared down upon the seated captain. "You can walk out, or you can fly out," he explained gruffly. "The choice is yours to make."
"You have traveled far from your fight with pirates south of Baldur's Gate," the captain replied. "Though I question your direction."
Wulfgar cocked his head and studied the man more closely. A flicker of recognition, just a flicker, crossed his bearded face.
"Have you forgotten our voyage south?" Deudermont prompted him. "The fight with pirate Pinochet and the flaming chariot?"
Wulfgar's eyes widened. "What do you know of these things?"
"Know of them?" Deudermont echoed incredulously. "Why, Wulfgar, you sailed on my vessel to Memnon and back. Your friends, Drizzt and Catti-brie, sailed with me again not too long ago, though surely they thought you dead!"
The big man fell back as if he had been slapped across the face. A jumbled mixture of emotions flashed across his clear blue eyes, everything from nostalgia to loathing. He spent a long moment trying to recover from the shock.
"You are mistaken, good man," he replied at last to Deudermont's surprise. "About my name and about my past. It is time for you to leave."
"But Wulfgar," Deudermont started to protest. He jumped in surprise to find another man, small and dark and ominous, standing right behind him, though he had heard not a footfall of approach. Wulfgar looked to the little man, then motioned to Arumn. The barkeep, after a moment's hesitation, reached behind the bar and produced a bottle, tossing it across the way where sure-fingered Morik caught it easily.
"Walk or fly?" Wulfgar asked Deudermont again. The sheer emptiness of his tone, not icy cold, but purely indifferent, struck Deudermont profoundly, told him that the man would make good on the promise to launch him out of the tavern without hesitation if he didn't move immediately.
"Sea Sprite is in port for another week at the least," Deudermont explained, rising and heading for the door. "You are welcomed there as a guest or to join the crew, for I have not forgotten," he finished firmly, the promise ringing in his wake as he slipped from the inn.
"Who was that?" Morik asked Wulfgar after Deudermont had disappeared into the dark Luskan night.