I Read What?!

So last time, our "heroes" basically just up and robbed someone who'd done nothing to them, because she happened to own a magic trinket that they wanted. And despite the fact that our hero is a good drow elf, we're not supposed to consider the possibility of other non-evil monster types.

For reasons.



So we rejoin Wulfgar and Drizzt. Now that their visit with Malchor and "the business with Agatha" (meaning attacking her, destroying her home and stealing her stuff) is out of the way, they're now focused on the journey ahead.

Malchor's magic horseshoes are doing their job and they're making very good time. We're told that they don't break or take a meal. As Drizzt says, they'll have all the rest they need when they board a ship. Wulfgar goes along with this, as he's focused on saving Regis.

They make it to Waterdeep, "the City of Splendors". It's easily ten times the size of Luskan, and Wulfgar is pretty agape at the size. Per Drizzt, one hundred of Wulfgar's tribes could find shelter in the city.

He noted Wulfgar's anxiety with concern of his own. Cities were beyond the experiences of the young man, and the time Wulfgar had ventured into Luskan had nearly ended in disaster. And now there was Waterdeep, with ten times the people, ten times the intrigue - and ten times the trouble.

Hey, as I recall it, all Wulfgar did was get hit on by a sex worker. The fight started when Regis decided that rape by enchantment was on his bucket list. And you and Bruenor up and robbed a lady. It seems to me that Wulfgar handled things better than any of you patronizing assholes.

Drizzt is of course angsting about the fucking mask: Drizzt turned the plain mask over in his hands, wondering at the limits of its magic. He could feel that this was no ordinary item; its power tingled to his sensitive touch. Would it simply rob him of his appearance? Or might it steal his very identity? He had heard of other, supposedly beneficial, magical items that could not be removed once worn.

Oh god, shut the fuck up. It's not like you HAD to take the fucking thing. You could have just said "No, not interested."

Wulfgar is optimistic, suggesting they might just accept Drizzt for who he is. But Drizzt knows that the soldiers wouldn't let him in, and no boat captain would take him south.

So Drizzt wears the mask. He doesn't feel any different, so he thinks it's a fake, until he sees Wulfgar's stunned face.

Wulfgar fumbled in his pack and produced a shiny metal cup. "Look," he bade Drizzt and handed him the makeshift mirror.

Drizzt took the cup in trembling hands - hands that trembled more when Drizzt realized they were no longer black - and raised it to his face. The reflection was poor - even poorer in the morning light to the drow's night eyes - but Drizzt could not mistake the image before him. His features had not changed, but his black skin now held the golden hue of a surface elf. And his flowing hair, once stark white, showed lustrous yellow, as shiny as if it had caught the rays of the sun and held them fast.

Only Drizzt's eyes remained as they had been, deep pools of brilliant lavender. No magic could dim their gleam, and Drizzt felt some small measure of relief, at least, that his inner person had apparently remained untainted.

Of course his super special eyes stay the same. Of course they do.

And fuck off, Drizzt.

...Wulfgar's response is interesting though:

Wulfgar's visage had turned sour. "By all the measures known to me, you appear as any other handsome elven warrior," he answered to Drizzt's inquiring gaze. "And surely a maiden or two will blush and turn her eyes when you stride by."

Drizzt looked to the ground and tried to hide his uneasiness with the assessment.

"But I like it not," Wulfgar continued sincerely. "Not at all." Drizzt looked back to him uncomfortably, almost sheepishly.

"And I like the look upon your face, the discomfort of your spirit, even less," Wulfgar continued, now apparently a bit perturbed. "I am a warrior who has faced giants and dragons without fear. But I would pale at the notion of battling Drizzt Do'Urden. Remember who you are, noble ranger."

1) Wulfgar is very quick to note how handsome Drizzt is now.

2) But I do love him so. He's just so good. Too good for this damn book. And while his behavior with Agatha was abysmal, I'm willing to forgive him because of stuff like this.

Anyway, Wulfgar says he prefers him without it. And someone else agrees:

They turned to see a middle-aged man, well muscled and tall, walking toward them. He seemed casual enough, wearing simple clothes and sporting a neatly trimmed black beard. His hair, too, was black, though speckles of silver edged it.

The man introduces himself as Khelben, and as an associate of Malchor. Wulfgar asks if he's a wizard, and Khelben says he's a forester with a love of painting. Drizzt doesn't really believe him. Drizzt is of course correct.

And this just shows us how idiotic this whole mask plot is to begin with. For if I'm not mistaken, this is Khelben Blackstaff. He's a fucking big name in Waterdeep. He's like the second most well-known wizard in the setting. You can't tell me Khelben fucking Blackstaff can't get a drow onto a ship.

And indeed, Khelben takes them to a guy named Orlpar, who can provide transport in a week. That, of course, is much too long. But there's another option: a Captain Deudermont is heading out tonight. The price will be very high though.

Khelben offers up the magic horseshoes, and after a bit of persuading, the man finally agrees. Khelben, having deus ex machinaed up some transport, scampers off. But not before Drizzt reminds him that Malchor's enchantment is not permanent. Apparently, this Orlper has screwed over people before though, so this is a bit of justice.

They head to Dock Street. People are staring at them with amazement. Drizzt initially worries that his mask fell off (...I think you'd need to worry about more than staring then, dude), then realizes no, people are staring at Wulfgar. Wulfgar, of course, is practically a giant and that gets attention. They banter about Drizzt taking off the mask and taking their eyes off Wulfgar. But for Regis, Drizzt winks, he would.

Ugh.

Drizzt looked at Wulfgar with concern. The only other time the young man had been in such a place - at the Cutlass in Luskan - Wulfgar had torn apart the tavern, and most of its patrons, in a brawl. Clinging to ideals of honor and courage, Wulfgar was out of place in the unprincipled world of city taverns.

Stop rewriting history! Wulfgar only fought to defend Regis and the sex worker!

They make their way through the tavern. Wulfgar is less impressed. When asked for their drink order, Wulfgar asks for water. Drizzt orders wine, and hands over a gold piece. Then Drizzt heads to Deudermont.

While Drizzt chats, we're told a "massive, hulking slob" named Bungo has been eyeing Wulfgar since he came in. His supporters are crowding around in anticipation of a brawl. Bungo is actually a bit anxious though. Wulfgar is an awesome spectacle, and Bungo has taken a lot of licks over the years.

...so don't fight? Why is this a thing?

But the regulars of the Mermaid's Arms looked up to him. This was their domain, and he their champion. They provided his free meals and drinks - Bungo could not let them down.

Oh. Stupidity.

So he goes over to Wulfgar to make conversation, in a confrontational way.

Wulfgar's instincts told him to stand and drop the pretentious slob where he stood. He had no fears about Bungo's eight friends. He considered them cowards who needed their leader to spur them on. If a single blow put Bungo down - and Wulfgar knew it would - the others would hesitate before striking, a delay that would cost them dearly against the likes of Wulfgar.

But over the last few months, Wulfgar had learned to temper his anger, and he had learned a broader definition of honor. He shrugged, making no move that resembled a threat. "A place to sit and a drink," he replied calmly. "And who might you be?"

...I feel like this is unfair. Wulfgar has grown a lot. And he's made achievements in controlling his temper. But even at his most hotheaded, he didn't attack without SOME provocation!

So anyway, Bungo challenges Wulfgar, who thinks of Regis and holds onto his temper.

We switch to Drizzt and Deudermont, who are discussing the arrangements. Deudermont has room set up, and he welcomes the added hands and blades of veteran adventurers. There's one catch: if there's a fight, the guards will toss Wulfgar in jail, and Deudermont can't hold port overnight.

But actually, Wulfgar's got this. He's not stupid and he knows he has a ship to catch. He spins the situation brilliantly. He claims he's here to see Bungo:

Wulfgar had to consciously catch his own hand before it shot across and squashed the ruffian's filthy fingers together. But he had control now. He leaned closer to the huge leader.

"Not to fight; to watch," he said quietly. "One day, perhaps, I might deem myself worthy to challenge the likes of Bungo, and on that day I will return, for I have no doubt that you will still be the champion of this tavern. But that day is many years away, I fear. I have so much to learn."

He's here, he says, to learn by watching Bungo, to see how he presents himself and go about his affairs. It's not clear if Bungo actually buys this, but he's happy to go along with it. He sits down to share a drink.

Nicely done. Drizzt and Deudermont approve.

Though Drizzt gets weird about it later:

"I should like to return," Wulfgar said, following his friend's gaze to the now distant city.

"To settle a score with a drunken ruffian and his wretched friends," Drizzt concluded.

Wulfgar laughed but stopped abruptly when Drizzt wheeled on him.

"To what end?" Drizzt asked. "Would you then replace him as the champion of the Mermaid's Arms?"

"That is a life I do not envy," Wulfgar replied, chuckling again, though this time uncomfortably.

"Then leave it to Bungo," Drizzt said, turning back to the glow of the city.

There's no need to get all prickly like this. Wulfgar's not the sort to go hunting some drunk dude down after the fact, jokes aside.

After some silence, Drizzt takes out Twinkle, which Wulfgar notes suits Drizzt well. Drizzt calls it a "fine companion" and remembers another magical scimitar he'd once possessed. Icingdeath. I didn't even realize he didn't have it anymore. He thinks about how it had made its wielder impervious to flame.

He and Wulfgar reminisce about fighting the dragon Icingdeath, and Wulfgar muses how it's a shame that the scimitar went over Garumn's Gorge with Bruenor.

Drizzt hadn't known that. He last saw Bruenor descending into the gorge on the back of a burning dragon.

Well then! I think we know where Chapter 5 will take us.