Chapter 7 Quiet in the Darkness
Even with burning lamps lining all the walls and the paths clear and well marked, it took Drizzt I and Regis the better part of three hours to cross I the miles of the great Mithril Hall complex to the new runnel areas. They passed through the wondrous, tiered Undercity, with its many levels of dwarven dwellings that resembled gigantic steps on two sides of the huge cavern. The dwellings overlooked a central work area on the cavern floor that bustled with the activities of the industrious race. This was the hub of the entire complex; here the majority of Bruenor's people lived and worked. Great furnaces roared all day, every day. Dwarven hammers rang out in a continual song, and, though the mines had been opened for only a couple of months, thousands of finished products-everything from finely crafted weapons to beautiful goblets-already filled many pushcarts, which waited along the walls for the onset of the trading season.
Drizzt and Regis entered from the eastern end on the top tier, crossed the cavern along a high bridge, and weaved down the many stairways to exit the city's lowest level, heading west into Mithril Hall's deepest mines. Low-burning lamps lined the walls, though these were fewer now and farther between, and every now and then the companions came to a dwarven work crew, bleeding precious silvery mithril from the tunnel wall.
Then they came to the outer tunnels, where there were no lamps and no dwarves. Drizzt pulled off his pack, thinking to light a torch, but noticed the half ling's eyes glowing with the telltale red of infravision.
'I do prefer the light of a torch,' Regis commented when the drow started to replace the pack without striking a light. 'We should save them,' Drizzt answered. 'We do not know how long we will have to remain in the new areas.' Regis shrugged; Drizzt took amusement in the fact that the halfling was already holding his small but undeniably effective mace, though they hadn't yet passed beyond the secured regions of the complex.
They took a short break, then started on again, putting another two or three miles behind them. Predictably, Regis soon began to complain about his sore feet and quieted only when they heard the sound of dwarven chatter somewhere up ahead.
A few twists and turns in the tunnel took them to a narrow stair that emptied into the final guardroom of this section. Four dwarves were in there, playing bones (grumbling with every throw) and paying little attention to the great, iron-barred stone door that sealed off the new areas. 'Well met,' Drizzt said, interrupting the game. 'We got some kin down there,' a stocky, brown-bearded dwarf replied as soon as he noticed Drizzt. 'King Bruenor sending yerselves to find them?'
'Lucky us,' Regis remarked.
Drizzt nodded. 'We are to remind the missing dwarves that the mithril will be gotten in proper time,' he said, trying to keep this encounter lighthearted, wanting to not alarm the dwarven guards by telling them that he believed there might be trouble in the new section.
Two of the dwarves took up their weapons while the other two walked over to remove the heavy iron bar that locked the door.
'Well, when ye're ready to come back out, tap the door three, then two,' the brown-bearded dwarf explained. 'We're not for opening it unless the signal's right!'
'Three, then two,' Drizzt agreed.
The bar came off and the door fell inward with a great sucking sound. Nothing but the blackness of an empty tunnel was apparent beyond it.
'Easy, my little friend,' Drizzt said, seeing the sudden gleam in the halfling's eye. They had been down here just a couple of weeks before, for the goblin fight, but, though they had seen that threat eradicated, the hushed tunnel seemed no less imposing.
'Hurry ye up,' the brown-bearded dwarf said to them, obviously not happy with keeping the door open.
Drizzt lighted a torch, and led the way into the gloom, Regis close on his heels. The dwarves shut the door immediately when the companions were clear, and Drizzt and Regis heard the clanging of the iron bar being set back into place.
Drizzt handed Regis the torch and drew out his scimitars, Twinkle glowing a soft blue. 'We should get done as quickly as we can,' the drow reasoned. 'Bring in Guenhwyvar and let the cat lead us.'
Regis set down his mace and torch and fumbled around to find the onyx figurine. He placed it on the ground before him and took up his other items, then looked to Drizzt, who had moved a few steps farther down the tunnel.
'You may call the panther,' Drizzt said, somewhat surprised, when he looked back to see the halfling waiting for him, a curious sight given Regis's close relationship with the great cat. Guenhwyvar was a magical entity, a denizen of the Astral Plane, that came to the summons of the figurine's possessor. Bruenor always had been a bit shy around the cat (dwarves didn't generally like magic other than the magic of fine weapons), but Regis and Guenhwyvar had been close friends. Guenhwyvar had even saved the halfling's life once by taking Regis along on an astral ride, getting the halfling out of a collapsing tower in the process.
Now, though, Regis stood above the figurine, torch and mace in hand, apparently unsure of how to proceed.
Drizzt walked back the few steps to join his diminutive friend. 'What is the problem?' he asked.
'I… I just think you should call Guenhwyvar,' the halfling replied. 'It's your panther, after all, and yours is the voice Guenhwyvar knows best.'
'Guenhwyvar would come to your call,' Drizzt assured Regis, patting the halfling's shoulder. Not wanting to delay and argue the point, though, the drow softly called out the panther's name. A few seconds later, a grayish mist, seeming darker in the dim light, gathered about the figurine and gradually shaped itself into the panther form. The mist subtly transformed, became something more substantial, then it was gone, leaving in its stead Guenhwyvar's muscled feline form. The panther's ears went flat immediately-Regis took a prudent step back— then Drizzt grabbed Guenhwyvar by a jowl and gave a playful shake.
'Some dwarves are missing,' Drizzt explained to the cat, and Regis knew that Guenhwyvar understood every word. 'Find their scent, my friend. Lead me to them.'
Guenhwyvar spent a long moment studying the immediate area, turned back to stare at Regis for a bit, then issued a low growl.
'Go on,' Drizzt bade the cat, and the sleek muscles flexed, propelling Guenhwyvar easily and in perfect silence into the darkness beyond the torchlight.
Drizzt and Regis followed at an easy pace, the drow confident that the panther would not outdistance them and Regis glancing nervously, this way and that, with every passing inch. They came through the intersection with the giant ettin's bones, Bruenor's first kill, a short while later, and Guenhwyvar joined them once more when they entered the low cavern where the main goblin force had been routed.
Little evidence remained of that recent battle, save the many bloodstains and a diminishing pile of goblin bodies in the center of the place. Ten-foot-long wormlike creatures swarmed all about these, long tendrils feeling the way as they feasted on the bloated corpses.
'Keep close,' Drizzt warned, and Regis didn't have to be told twice. 'Those are carrion crawlers,' the drow ranger explained, 'the vultures of the Underdark. With food so readily available, they likely will leave us alone, but they are dangerous foes. A sting from their tendrils can steal the strength from your limbs.'
'Do you think the dwarves got too close to them?' Regis asked, squinting in the dim light to see if he could make out any nongoblin bodies among the pile.
Drizzt shook his head. 'The dwarves know the crawlers well,' he explained. 'They welcome the beasts to be rid of the stench of goblin corpses. I would hardly expect seven veteran dwarves to be taken down by crawlers.'
Drizzt started down from the angled platform, but the halfling grabbed his cloak to stop him. 'There's a dead ettin under here,' Regis explained. 'Lots of meat.'
Drizzt cocked his head curiously as he regarded the quick-thinking halfling, the drow thinking that maybe Bruenor had been wise in sending the little one along. They skirted the lip of the raised stone and came down far to the side. Sure enough, several carrion crawlers worked over the huge ettin body; Drizzt's original course would have taken him dangerously close to the beasts.
They were into the empty tunnels again in a few seconds, Guenhwyvar drifting silently into the darkness to lead them.
The torch soon burned low; Regis shook his head when Drizzt reached for another one, reminding Drizzt that
