Sojourn - Chapter Eight
Jul. 10th, 2023 07:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalinara posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
i_read_whatSo I might have promised SOMEONE that I'd add the next Mistwraith/Wars of Light and Shadow book to my upcoming list. Which means I really have to get back to a consistent schedule, because those books are fucking endeavors. :-)
That is all irrelevant for today though, as today we rejoin Drizzt Do'Urden!
Back at the village, Roddy McGristle and Mayor Delmo are having a bit of a conflict. McGristle, as we've seen, is pretty much the hyper-macho caricature that his name implies. He recognizes the broken scimitar that had been left behind as Drizzt's, and he wants to go get some of his own back.
The mayor is much saner. It's not that he disagrees that Drizzt is the culprit, but he knows Dove Falconhand is on her way, and would much prefer her in charge than Roddy. As annoying as I find Dove, I can agree with that sentiment. He also notes that Drizzt has at least one ally - ONE drow took out McGristle, this implies more, and McGristle wants to go out and hunt them?
McGristle is very over the top:
“Bad fortune, it was, that took me down!” Roddy snapped back. He looked around, appealing to the now less-than-eager farmers. “I had that drow, had him cleaned an’ dressed."
At least Connor Thistledown had the dignity to admit to defeat.
Fortunately, the Mayor has some steel in him:
“You want him, and you’ll have him,” the mayor promised, “but there might be more on the table here than your dog or your pride.”
Roddy’s face contorted ominously, but the mayor was adamant. If a drow war party was indeed operating in the area, all of Maldobar was in imminent danger. The small group’s greatest defense until help could arrive from Sundabar was unity, and that defense would fail if Roddy led a group of men-fighters who were scarce enough already- on a chase through the mountains. Benson Delmo was astute enough to know that he could not appeal to Roddy on those terms, though. While the mountain man had remained in Maldobar for a couple of years, he was, in essence, a drifter and owed no allegiance to the town.
Honestly, I think you guys would be better off without Roddy entirely, but okay.
Oh wow:
Roddy turned away, deciding that the meeting was at its end, but the mayor boldly grabbed his arm and turned him back around. Roddy’s dog bared its teeth and growled, but that threat was a small consideration to the fat man in light of the awful scowl that Roddy shot him.
“You’ll have the drow,” the mayor said quickly, “but wait for the help from Sundabar, I beg.” He switched to terms that Roddy could truly appreciate. “I am a man of no small means, McGristle, and you were a bounty hunter before you got here, and still are, I’d expect.”
The Mayor does have more fortitude than I expected.
So Roddy's intrigued. More so when the Mayor promises 1000 gold for Drizzt's head. That's about five times his usual fee, and he'd have gone after Drizzt anyway. He demands 2000 anyway and the Mayor agrees.
-
We switch scenes to Lagerbottoms, who has apparently been following a wounded Drizzt's trail. Apparently, he's not all that fond of Ulgulu or Kempfana after all. They HAD just stolen his lair. But he's worried about any enemy that could have defeated those two. Drizzt's wounded, now, so Lagerbottoms has a chance.
Drizzt does know he's being followed. And with dawn coming, what little advantage he has is disappearing. He has a plan though, and makes some preparations involving branches and boulders.
Then Drizzt arranges a confrontation:
Why do you follow me?” Drizzt demanded. “Do you desire to join the others in the sleep of death?”
Lagerbottoms ran his plump tongue over dry lips. So far, this encounter hadn’t gone as expected. Now the giant thought past those first instinctual urges that had led him out here and tried to consider the options. Ulgulu and Kempfana were dead; Lagerbottoms had his cave back. But the gnolls and goblins, too, were gone, and that pesky little quickling sprite hadn’t been around for a while. A sudden thought came to the giant.
“Friends?” Lagerbottoms asked hopefully.
Aw.
He's apparently won his bluff check. But Drizzt is a bit skeptical, thinking of the gnolls and THEIR offer of "friendship".
I mean, you could always say yes and then skip town, dude. Also I kind of like Lagerbottoms. He's smarter than the stereotypical hill giant. Alas:
“Friends to what end?” Drizzt asked tentatively, hoping against all reason that he might find this creature to be motivated by some principles, and not just by blood lust.
“To kill,” Lagerbottoms replied, as though the answer had been obvious.
Yeah that doesn't go over well. Drizzt isn't really subtle enough to fake comradery here. But there's also a snare in the ground...
“Kill you!” Lagerbottoms cried, seeing the sudden turn, and the giant lifted his club and took a huge stride forward, a stride shortened by the vinelike branch pulling tightly around his ankle.
Drizzt checked his desire to rush in, reminding himself that the trap had been set into motion, and reminding himself, too, that in his present condition he would be hard put to survive against the formidable giant.
Lagerbottoms looked down at the noose and roared in outrage. The branch wasn’t really a proper cord and the noose wasn’t so tight. If Lagerbottoms had simply reached down, the giant easily could have slipped the noose off his foot. Hill giants, however, were never known for their intelligence.
Mean!
But anyway, the giant springs the trap, which involves a boulder to the kidney. Drizzt considers whether to finish him off or run. He makes a decision:
“How many other families will you slaughter?” Drizzt asked in the drow tongue.
Lagerbottoms could not begin to understand the language. He just grunted and snarled through the burning pain.
“How many?” Drizzt asked again, his hand wrenching over the scimitar’s pommel and his eyes narrowing menacingly.
He came in fast and hard.
We shift scenes back to the Mayor. Dove and Fred, who seems to be well known in his own right, have arrived. And to their credit, while they were offered food, as soon as they learn of the massacre, they head out.
Unfortunately, simple villagers don't watch CSI:
Dove was openly disappointed when they arrived at the secluded farm. A hundred sets of tracks obscured critical clues, and many of the items in the house, even the bodies, had been handled and moved. Still, Dove and her seasoned company moved about methodically, trying to decipher what they could of the gruesome scene.
“Foolish people!” Fret scolded the farmers when Dove and the others had completed their investigation. “You have aided our enemies!”
Several of the farmer-folk, even the mayor, looked around uncomfortably at the berating, but Roddy snarled and towered over the tidy dwarf. Dove quickly interceded.
“Your earlier presence here has marred some of the clues,” Dove explained calmly, disarmingly, to the mayor as she prudently stepped between Fret and the burly mountain man. Dove had heard many tales of McGristle before, and his reputation was not one of predictability or calm.
Interesting. How famous IS Roddy McGristle?
Anyway, the mayor apologizes and Dove is understanding. Fred is a little snarky, but there you go.
The interesting thing here is that Dove immediately doubts that Drizzt is the killer. And to give Salvatore credit, this isn't a McCaffrey style "the characters I like are automatically right" situation. Dove can immediately tell, for example, that Roddy's claim that his wounds were caused by the scimitar is false because of how jagged it is.
She also notices how the door was broken, and that the younger woman was definitely not killed by a drow. Roddy brings up Guen, but Dove didn't see any prints that match a panther's. And the way that the woman was partially eaten, bones and all, definitely doesn't seem cat like.
Salvatore does a good job here: all of Dove's observations seem very reasonable based on her knowledge base. It also seems very reasonable that the villagers did not notice these same things, because they don't have her training or expertise. This doesn't seem like a case where everyone is artificially stupid in order to shill a favorite character.
Dove keeps her thoughts to herself, since it's clear Roddy isn't interested in anything that goes against his own conclusions.
Roddy is pushy, and the Mayor reveals that Roddy will be going with them. He's regretting that now. He definitely appreciates Dove's coolheaded competence more than Roddy's...McGristleness. But the deal's made. Dove concedes the point, to Fred's surprise.
She does, however, intend to go her own pace. She points out that they're assuming Drizzt is running, but what if he's not? What if he, or they, are in hiding close by? Does he want to fight them at night?
Roddy gives in. Dove decides to stay with her party in the Thistledown farm, though they're offered better lodgings. It's worth noting that Fred, as prissy as he comes across, seems to have no issue with this. The only thing he complains about is that they're bringing Roddy along. Which, fair. Though his complaint is that Roddy is "dirty".
Dove and Gabriel discuss things. They both notice the discrepancies. (This helps too: Dove isn't the ONLY one with insight. Salvatore is improving.)
1. The panther did not kill that woman. (Gabriel)
2. A drow didn't kill Bartholomew - the beam was nearly snapped, requiring giant-like strength. (Dove).
Fred, indirectly, gets a contribution as Dove remembers him saying that drow magic is subtle.
They also note the tracks. Separate ones: a later set that could be a drow, and an earlier set that's too deep/heavy.
They can't rule out the idea that Drizzt has some kind of monster henchman companion, but they're thinking about things.
--
We switch scenes to Tephanis. Tephanis has found Ulgulu's body and is fairly distraught. He doesn't really CARE about him, but before Ulgulu, he'd had a pretty lonely and boring existence. But there's Lagerbottom maybe?
Finally, we end the chapter with Drizzt, looking down at the town of Maldobar for the last time. He's still pretty hurt, but he's improving. He's more than a little depressed though, since he's definitely not going to be able to call this place home. Aw.
That is all irrelevant for today though, as today we rejoin Drizzt Do'Urden!
Back at the village, Roddy McGristle and Mayor Delmo are having a bit of a conflict. McGristle, as we've seen, is pretty much the hyper-macho caricature that his name implies. He recognizes the broken scimitar that had been left behind as Drizzt's, and he wants to go get some of his own back.
The mayor is much saner. It's not that he disagrees that Drizzt is the culprit, but he knows Dove Falconhand is on her way, and would much prefer her in charge than Roddy. As annoying as I find Dove, I can agree with that sentiment. He also notes that Drizzt has at least one ally - ONE drow took out McGristle, this implies more, and McGristle wants to go out and hunt them?
McGristle is very over the top:
“Bad fortune, it was, that took me down!” Roddy snapped back. He looked around, appealing to the now less-than-eager farmers. “I had that drow, had him cleaned an’ dressed."
At least Connor Thistledown had the dignity to admit to defeat.
Fortunately, the Mayor has some steel in him:
“You want him, and you’ll have him,” the mayor promised, “but there might be more on the table here than your dog or your pride.”
Roddy’s face contorted ominously, but the mayor was adamant. If a drow war party was indeed operating in the area, all of Maldobar was in imminent danger. The small group’s greatest defense until help could arrive from Sundabar was unity, and that defense would fail if Roddy led a group of men-fighters who were scarce enough already- on a chase through the mountains. Benson Delmo was astute enough to know that he could not appeal to Roddy on those terms, though. While the mountain man had remained in Maldobar for a couple of years, he was, in essence, a drifter and owed no allegiance to the town.
Honestly, I think you guys would be better off without Roddy entirely, but okay.
Oh wow:
Roddy turned away, deciding that the meeting was at its end, but the mayor boldly grabbed his arm and turned him back around. Roddy’s dog bared its teeth and growled, but that threat was a small consideration to the fat man in light of the awful scowl that Roddy shot him.
“You’ll have the drow,” the mayor said quickly, “but wait for the help from Sundabar, I beg.” He switched to terms that Roddy could truly appreciate. “I am a man of no small means, McGristle, and you were a bounty hunter before you got here, and still are, I’d expect.”
The Mayor does have more fortitude than I expected.
So Roddy's intrigued. More so when the Mayor promises 1000 gold for Drizzt's head. That's about five times his usual fee, and he'd have gone after Drizzt anyway. He demands 2000 anyway and the Mayor agrees.
-
We switch scenes to Lagerbottoms, who has apparently been following a wounded Drizzt's trail. Apparently, he's not all that fond of Ulgulu or Kempfana after all. They HAD just stolen his lair. But he's worried about any enemy that could have defeated those two. Drizzt's wounded, now, so Lagerbottoms has a chance.
Drizzt does know he's being followed. And with dawn coming, what little advantage he has is disappearing. He has a plan though, and makes some preparations involving branches and boulders.
Then Drizzt arranges a confrontation:
Why do you follow me?” Drizzt demanded. “Do you desire to join the others in the sleep of death?”
Lagerbottoms ran his plump tongue over dry lips. So far, this encounter hadn’t gone as expected. Now the giant thought past those first instinctual urges that had led him out here and tried to consider the options. Ulgulu and Kempfana were dead; Lagerbottoms had his cave back. But the gnolls and goblins, too, were gone, and that pesky little quickling sprite hadn’t been around for a while. A sudden thought came to the giant.
“Friends?” Lagerbottoms asked hopefully.
Aw.
He's apparently won his bluff check. But Drizzt is a bit skeptical, thinking of the gnolls and THEIR offer of "friendship".
I mean, you could always say yes and then skip town, dude. Also I kind of like Lagerbottoms. He's smarter than the stereotypical hill giant. Alas:
“Friends to what end?” Drizzt asked tentatively, hoping against all reason that he might find this creature to be motivated by some principles, and not just by blood lust.
“To kill,” Lagerbottoms replied, as though the answer had been obvious.
Yeah that doesn't go over well. Drizzt isn't really subtle enough to fake comradery here. But there's also a snare in the ground...
“Kill you!” Lagerbottoms cried, seeing the sudden turn, and the giant lifted his club and took a huge stride forward, a stride shortened by the vinelike branch pulling tightly around his ankle.
Drizzt checked his desire to rush in, reminding himself that the trap had been set into motion, and reminding himself, too, that in his present condition he would be hard put to survive against the formidable giant.
Lagerbottoms looked down at the noose and roared in outrage. The branch wasn’t really a proper cord and the noose wasn’t so tight. If Lagerbottoms had simply reached down, the giant easily could have slipped the noose off his foot. Hill giants, however, were never known for their intelligence.
Mean!
But anyway, the giant springs the trap, which involves a boulder to the kidney. Drizzt considers whether to finish him off or run. He makes a decision:
“How many other families will you slaughter?” Drizzt asked in the drow tongue.
Lagerbottoms could not begin to understand the language. He just grunted and snarled through the burning pain.
“How many?” Drizzt asked again, his hand wrenching over the scimitar’s pommel and his eyes narrowing menacingly.
He came in fast and hard.
We shift scenes back to the Mayor. Dove and Fred, who seems to be well known in his own right, have arrived. And to their credit, while they were offered food, as soon as they learn of the massacre, they head out.
Unfortunately, simple villagers don't watch CSI:
Dove was openly disappointed when they arrived at the secluded farm. A hundred sets of tracks obscured critical clues, and many of the items in the house, even the bodies, had been handled and moved. Still, Dove and her seasoned company moved about methodically, trying to decipher what they could of the gruesome scene.
“Foolish people!” Fret scolded the farmers when Dove and the others had completed their investigation. “You have aided our enemies!”
Several of the farmer-folk, even the mayor, looked around uncomfortably at the berating, but Roddy snarled and towered over the tidy dwarf. Dove quickly interceded.
“Your earlier presence here has marred some of the clues,” Dove explained calmly, disarmingly, to the mayor as she prudently stepped between Fret and the burly mountain man. Dove had heard many tales of McGristle before, and his reputation was not one of predictability or calm.
Interesting. How famous IS Roddy McGristle?
Anyway, the mayor apologizes and Dove is understanding. Fred is a little snarky, but there you go.
The interesting thing here is that Dove immediately doubts that Drizzt is the killer. And to give Salvatore credit, this isn't a McCaffrey style "the characters I like are automatically right" situation. Dove can immediately tell, for example, that Roddy's claim that his wounds were caused by the scimitar is false because of how jagged it is.
She also notices how the door was broken, and that the younger woman was definitely not killed by a drow. Roddy brings up Guen, but Dove didn't see any prints that match a panther's. And the way that the woman was partially eaten, bones and all, definitely doesn't seem cat like.
Salvatore does a good job here: all of Dove's observations seem very reasonable based on her knowledge base. It also seems very reasonable that the villagers did not notice these same things, because they don't have her training or expertise. This doesn't seem like a case where everyone is artificially stupid in order to shill a favorite character.
Dove keeps her thoughts to herself, since it's clear Roddy isn't interested in anything that goes against his own conclusions.
Roddy is pushy, and the Mayor reveals that Roddy will be going with them. He's regretting that now. He definitely appreciates Dove's coolheaded competence more than Roddy's...McGristleness. But the deal's made. Dove concedes the point, to Fred's surprise.
She does, however, intend to go her own pace. She points out that they're assuming Drizzt is running, but what if he's not? What if he, or they, are in hiding close by? Does he want to fight them at night?
Roddy gives in. Dove decides to stay with her party in the Thistledown farm, though they're offered better lodgings. It's worth noting that Fred, as prissy as he comes across, seems to have no issue with this. The only thing he complains about is that they're bringing Roddy along. Which, fair. Though his complaint is that Roddy is "dirty".
Dove and Gabriel discuss things. They both notice the discrepancies. (This helps too: Dove isn't the ONLY one with insight. Salvatore is improving.)
1. The panther did not kill that woman. (Gabriel)
2. A drow didn't kill Bartholomew - the beam was nearly snapped, requiring giant-like strength. (Dove).
Fred, indirectly, gets a contribution as Dove remembers him saying that drow magic is subtle.
They also note the tracks. Separate ones: a later set that could be a drow, and an earlier set that's too deep/heavy.
They can't rule out the idea that Drizzt has some kind of monster henchman companion, but they're thinking about things.
--
We switch scenes to Tephanis. Tephanis has found Ulgulu's body and is fairly distraught. He doesn't really CARE about him, but before Ulgulu, he'd had a pretty lonely and boring existence. But there's Lagerbottom maybe?
Finally, we end the chapter with Drizzt, looking down at the town of Maldobar for the last time. He's still pretty hurt, but he's improving. He's more than a little depressed though, since he's definitely not going to be able to call this place home. Aw.
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Date: 2023-07-11 02:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-07-11 02:20 pm (UTC)I've often thought it'd be fun to see alternate setting versions of procedurals. Like one of those fireman rescue shows, but in Star Trek!