I Read What?!

Last time, Drizzt outwitted a dragon. It was a pretty impressive feat, not going to lie, even if it did raise some interesting questions regarding comparative morality in this series.

But that's probably just me being a nitpicker.

I do enjoy when Drizzt is put in positions where he can't just Mary-Sue fight his way out.



So we rejoin Drizzt as he is saying goodbye to the Friars. And of course, because Drizzt has to have the moral high ground here, he gives them all the treasure he got from the dragon's cave.

Drizzt emptied his pockets in response, and five sets of eager eyes widened as gold trinkets and baubles rolled forth, glittering in the afternoon sun. One gem in particular, a two-inch ruby, promised wealth beyond anything the friars had ever known.

“For you,” Drizzt explained. “All of it. I have no need of treasures.”

The friars looked about guiltily, none of them willing to reveal the booty stored in his own pockets. “Perhaps you should keep a bit,” Mateus offered, “if you still plan to strike out on your own.”

If Drizzt were a less obnoxious character I wouldn't mind this. But he's been really fucking judgmental to people who, while admittedly annoying, genuinely gave him a place to stay and companionship. They've accepted him, even before he saved their lives. That ought to mean something, even if it's just a stab of guilt for being so aggravated by them.

Anyway, Drizzt has figured out his destination, and this is a bit funny:

“You said it,” Drizzt remarked to Jankin. “You named the place a week before we entered the tunnel.”

Jankin looked at him curiously, hardly remembering.

“Ten-Towns,” Drizzt said. “Land of rogues, where a rogue might find his place.”

“Ten-Towns?” Mateus balked. “Surely you should reconsider your course, friend. Icewind Dale is not a welcoming place, nor are the hardy killers of Ten-Towns.”

“The wind is ever blowing,” Jankin added with a wistful look in his dark and hollow eyes, “filled with stinging sand and an icy bite. I will go with you!”

“And the monsters!” added one of the others, slapping Jankin on the back of the head. “Tundra yeti and white bears, and fierce barbarians! No, I would not go to Ten-Tbwns if Hephaestus himself tried to chase me there!”

I do kind of love how Jankin, the true believer, is the most annoying of all of them. You should feel very grateful, Drizzt, that the others are sparing you his presence.

Anyway, Drizzt has decided to be melodramatic.

“I’ll not go with you,” Drizzt said again. “You name Ten-Towns an unwelcoming place, but would I find any warmer reception in Mirabar?”

Maybe, maybe not. You don't know unless you try?

Look, if the narrative were honest and Drizzt admitted (not out loud) that he really just doesn't want to go to Mirabar, because he'd still be hanging out with annoying people, I'd probably be more sympathetic.

But hey, some actual gratitude for once:

“We will go to the farmers this night,” Mateus replied, reconsidering his words. “We will buy you a horse there, and the supplies you will need. I do not wish you to go away at all,” he said, “but Ten-Towns seems a good choice-“ He looked pointedly at Jankin-“for a drow. Many have found their place there. Truly it is a home for he who has none.”

Drizzt understood the sincerity in the friar’s voice and appreciated Mateus’s graciousness. “How do I find it?” he asked.

“Follow the mountains,” Mateus replied. “Keep them always at your right hand’s reach. When you get around the range, you have entered Icewind Dale. Only a single peak marks the flat land north of the Spine of the World. The towns are built around it. May they be all that you hope!”

Aw.

Drizzt meanwhile thinks about leaving the friars:

With that, the friars prepared to leave. Drizzt clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back against the valley wall. It was indeed time for his parting with the friars, he knew, but he could not deny both the guilt and loneliness that the prospect offered. The small riches they had taken from the dragon’s lair would greatly change his companions’ lives, would give them shelter and all the necessities, but wealth could do nothing to alter the barriers that Drizzt faced.

Yes, yes, Drizzt is making their lives better. Except, you know, they're an order of people who suffer willingly as a religious duty. They might not actually keep the money, you know. (Though Mateus, at least, is pragmatic enough to figure out ways to suffer religiously while keeping a roof over his head, I bet.)

I'm being unfair, but I guess it just annoys me that Drizzt spent the entire part of this section being judgmental of these guys, and never really rethinks that. He gets away with it because of his saintly charity, firmly cementing him as the good guy in his own mind.

Oh well. Now he gets to angst about something new:

Ten-Towns, the land that Jankin had named a house for the homeless, a gathering ground for those who had nowhere else to go, brought the drow a measure of hope. How many times had fate kicked him? How many gates had he approached hopefully only to be turned away at the tip of a spear? This time will be different, Drizzt told himself, for if he could not find a place in the land of rogues, where then might he turn?

For the beleaguered drow, who had spent so very long running from tragedy, guilt, and prejudices he could not escape, hope was not a comfortable emotion.

In the morning, everyone's there to say goodbye but Jankin, who's tied up in the barn. He's been trying to get away and go back to Hephaestus. And really, guys, this seems less like a martyr complex than some kind of mental health episode. Which may be why they're so adamant in saving his life.

Hershel has another gift for Drizzt. A chance to be judgmental again!

“And here is a new wrap,” offered Herschel. He handed Drizzt a fine, fur-lined cloak. Drizzt knew how uncharacteristically generous the friars were being, and he almost changed his mind. He could not dismiss his other needs, though, and he would not satisfy them among this group.

You could just say thank you, you asshole. "uncharacteristically generous" my ass.

Anyway, we get to see Drizzt use animal communication for the first time as he awes the friars by staring into the horse's eyes, leading the horse to bend down so that Drizzt can climb up.

I do like this bit:

“You have a way with horses,” remarked Mateus. “Never did you mention that you were a skilled rider.”

Drizzt only nodded and did his very best to remain in the saddle when the horse started into a trot. It took the drow many moments to figure out how to control the beast and he had circled far to the east-the wrong way-before he managed to turn about. Throughout the circuit, Drizzt tried hard to keep up his facade, and the friars, never ones for horses themselves, merely nodded and smiled.

There's really no reason to pretend to be an experienced rider, but it's a bit of vanity that amuses me.

So Drizzt moves on and we move on to Roddy McGristle.

Roddy happens to notice the Friars making their way back toward Mirabar's tunnel. This causes Tephanis to blurt out his little scheme. His tongue moving too fast for him.

He grovels, of course, and Roddy appears to accept it. He urges Tephanis back into the sack.

“I’ll get the friars talking,” the bounty hunter vowed, “but first . . .” Roddy whipped the sack about, slamming it into the stone wall.

“Master!” came the sprite’s muffled cry.

“Ye drow-stealin . . .” Roddy huffed, and he beat the sack mercilessly against the unyielding stone. Tephanis squirmed for the first few whacks, even managed to begin a tear with his little dagger. But then the sack darkened with wetness and the sprite struggled no more.

Egads.

I remember being a kid and being really shocked by this moment. I feel like it represents a crossing of the moral event horizon, to swipe from tv tropes. It's odd that I felt this way more about Tephanis than Kellindil, when Kellindil was by far a more moral and good person. But I think it's a matter of fair play, for me.

Kellindil was Roddy's captor. He was in a position of strength. Roddy seized a temporary advantage and overpowered him in order to escape. It was fair game, I think. Even if I think Kellindil was in the right, morally speaking.

Tephanis, on the other hand, is more selfish and malicious. He's a pain in the ass. But he's helpless, fairly easily neutralized. Roddy didn't gain anything by murdering him, and especially not in such a brutal way.

And what happens to the Friars?

The Weeping Friars were an order dedicated to suffering, and a couple of them, particularly Jankin, had indeed suffered much in their lives. None of them, though, had ever imagined the level of cruelty they found at the hands of wild-eyed Roddy McGristle, and before an hour had passed, Roddy, too, was driving hard to the west along the southern edge of the mountain range.

Oh no.

Did any of them survive? Are they okay? I want to know, damnit.

I wonder if Drizzt will ever find out what happened to them. He was so smug about leaving them with all those riches. And to be fair, he had no obligation to stick around. He had no way of knowing this would happen. I'm genuinely unhappy about this though.

Brother Mateus deserved better, damnit. (And I'm even more intrigued by poor Jankin.)

So back to Drizzt. He's made it to the Spine of the World, and the description is pretty great:

The cold eastern wind filled his ears with its endless song. Drizzt had heard it every second since he had rounded the western edge of the Spine of the World and turned north and then east, into the barren stretch of land named for this wind, Icewind Dale. He accepted the mournful groan and the wind’s freezing bite willingly, for to Drizzt the rush of air came as a gust of freedom.

Another symbol of that freedom, the sight of the wide sea, came as the drow rounded the mountain range. Drizzt had visited the shoreline once, on his passage to Luskan, and now he wanted to pause and go tbe few miles to its shores again. But the cold wind reminded him of the impending winter, and he understood the difficulty he would find in traveling the dale once the first snows had fallen.

Drizzt also spots the familiar sight of Kelvin's Cairn and the three lakes. He considers whether to go to one of the secluded towns as opposed to the main city.

Drizzt announces himself in the most dramatic way possible of course:

“From Mirabar,” he answered honestly, and then, before he could stop himself and before the guards posed another distracting question, he reached up and pulled back his hood.

Four eyes popped wide and hands immediately dropped to belted swords.

“No!” Drizzt retorted suddenly. “No, please.” A weariness came into both his voice and his posture that the guards could not understand. Drizzt had no strength left for senseless battles of misunderstanding. Against a goblin horde or a marauding giant, the draw’s scimitars came easily into his hands, but against one who only battled him because of misperceptions, his blades weighed heavily indeed.

“I have come from Mirabar,” Drizzt continued, his voice growing steadier with each syllable, “to Ten-Towns to reside in peace.” He held his hands out wide, offering no threat.

The guards don't really know how to react, which is somewhat fair, I think. One goes for the Spokesman, while the other bluffs that if Drizzt kills him he'll be cut down by "a hundred crossbows."

Honestly, I think this is going pretty okay. Sometimes I think Drizzt gives up to easily. Of COURSE people are going to be afraid at first. And yeah that sucks and is unfair. But it's not like the drow reputation is particularly exaggerated. We saw that in Homeland.

Whoa, hello Cassius. It's been a while. I remember thinking Cassius was interesting. Let's see his first chronological appearance.

The other guard returned a short time later with a small and slender man, clean-shaven and with bright blue eyes that scanned continuously, taking in every detail. He wore fine clothes, and from the respect the two guards showed the man, Drizzt knew at once that he was of high rank.

He studied Drizzt for a long while, considering every move and every feature. “I am Cassius,” he said at length, “Spokesman of Bryn Shander and Principle Spokesman of Ten-Towns’ Ruling Council.”

Drizzt dipped a short bow. “I am Drizzt Do’Urden,” he said, “of Mirabar and points beyond, now come to Ten-Towns.”

“Why?” Cassius asked sharply, trying to catch him off guard.

Drizzt shrugged. “Is a reason required?”

“For a dark elf, perhaps,” Cassius replied honestly.

Drizzt explains himself. He's had a long road, he's weary and looking for a place to rest. He's heard Ten Towns is a place of rogues.

Cassius is a straightforward guy.

“Bryn Shander is not your place,” Cassius said bluntly, and Drizzt’s lavender eyes narrowed at the unfair proclamation. Undaunted, Cassius pointed to the north. “Go to Lonely wood, in the forest on the northern banks of Maer Dualdon,” he offered. He swung his gaze to the southeast. “Or to Good Mead or Dougan’s Hole on the southern lake, Redwaters. These are smaller towns, where you will cause less stir and find less trouble.”

It is unfair, though not completely unreasonable, I think. That says, there's no guarantee any other town would welcome him.

“I know,” Drizzt interrupted. “I have played this game many times. Who will welcome a drow, even one who has forsaken his people and their ways and who desires nothing more than peace?” Drizzt’s voice was stern and showed no self-pity, and Cassius again understood the words to be true.

Truly Cassius sympathized. He himself had been a rogue once and had been forced to the ends of the world, to forlorn Icewind Dale, to find a home. There were no ends farther than this; Icewind Dale was a rogue’s last stop. Another thought came to Cassius then, a possible solution to the dilemma that would not nag at his conscience.

Cassius asks about Drizzt's time on the surface. (Seven years at this point). He notes that Drizzt has survived winters and direct enemies, and asks about his skill with the blades. He's surprised to find out Drizzt is a ranger. Then he offers his solution:

“There is a place offering shelter and seclusion.” The spokesman led Drizzt’s gaze to the north, to the rocky slopes of Kelvin’s Cairn. “Beyond the dwarven vale lies the mountain,” Cassius explained, “and beyond that the open tundra. It would do Ten-Towns well to have a scout on the mountain’s northern slopes. Danger always seems to come from that direction.”

Drizzt challenges this offer:

“I came to find my home,” Drizzt interrupted. “You offer me a hole in a pile of rock and a duty to those whom I owe nothing.” In truth, the suggestion appealed to Drizzt’s ranger spirit.

It's funny to me how Crystal Shard presented this lifestyle as a terrible burden. Even though, eventually, Drizzt was in a position to go to one of the towns if he actually wanted to. And it is probably the best compromise. Drizzt gets a chance to prove himself against his people's reputation. Again, it's not fair that he has to, but it is realistic.

Cassius is a good character to use here. He's unfriendly, but he's honest. When Drizzt asks if a man would have to prove himself worthy like this, he points out that men don't carry "so grim a reputation." And I mean, again, we've SEEN what drow do on the surface. There are evil humans, even evil human cities and empires. Luskans are the dicks of the Sword Coast after all. But they're not the ONLY humans people ever encounter.

A more interesting question though, that Drizzt doesn't know enough to ask is: "would a Dale Barbarian have to prove himself worthy?" given the history between the barbarians and the towns.

Anyway, Cassius points out that even if he welcomed Drizzt, the people in Bryn Shander wouldn't. I think that's a bit of an excuse. Drizzt would meet hostility, but probably not violence, and given time, Drizzt could earn his own reputation as easily within the town as without.

But that's not what he's offering. He's offering a cave and a job, and the chance for Drizzt's actions, good or bad, to become his reputation.

Drizzt accepts this truth. He does need supplies though. Cassius has the guard sell Drizzt's horse (since the horse wouldn't be useful on the slopes of the mountain) and bring supplies back.

As for Cassius:

The spokesman left then, thinking himself quite clever. Not only had he averted any immediate trouble, he had convinced Drizzt to guard his borders, all in a place where Bruenor Battlehammer and his clan of grim-faced dwarves could certainly keep the drow from causing any trouble.

I mean, that actually is pretty clever. If Drizzt really were the vanguard of a drow invasion, putting him on the border would be pretty dangerous. Bruenor's dwarves are an added reassurance.

It is however a dick move to not tell Drizzt there'll be ANOTHER group that he'll have to win over. Still, I kind of like Cassius.

Speaking of total dicks, Roddy is wintering over in a small village before going into the Dale. This gives Drizzt about a winter's head start. Let's hope it works for him.

It does seem like Drizzt was informed of the dwarves though, since he's trying to take extra care to avoid any guards or patrols. His only encounter with dwarves in the past had been at Citadel Adbar, and it wasn't pleasant. They apparently chased him off without any time for explanations and dogged him for days.

I mean, they didn't murder you?

The view sounds nice at least:

The climb was not high, only fifty feet or so, but with the flat tundra and clear night Drizzt was afforded a view of five cities: two on the banks of the lake to the east, two to the west on the largest lake, and Bryn Shander, on its hillock a few miles to the south.

We end the chapter with Drizzt narrowly avoiding contact with a wandering dwarf. Which means Bruenor and Catti-brie are on the horizon! Yay!