'Take to lookin'!' Pwent bellowed, indicating the ceiling, and all the dwarves bobbed about eagerly.
One screeched, taking a hand-crossbow hit squarely in the face, but that shout of pain became a cry of joy, for the dwarf had only to backtrack the angle to spot the floating drow. Immediately a globe of darkness engulfed that area of the stalactites, but the dwarves now knew where to find him.
'Lariat!' Pwent bellowed, and another dwarf pulled a rope from his belt and scrambled over to the battlerager. The end of the rope was looped and securely tied in a slip knot, and so the dwarf, misunderstanding Pwent's intent, put the lasso twirling over his head and looked to the darkened area, trying to discern his best shot.
Pwent grabbed him by the wrist and held fast, sending the rope limply to the floor. 'Battlerager lariat,' Pwent explained.
Other dwarves crowded about, not knowing what their leader had in mind. Smiles widened on every face as Pwent slipped the loop over his foot, tightened it about his ankle, and informed the others that it would take more than one of them to get this drow-catcher flying.
Every eager dwarf grabbed the rope and began tugging wildly, doing no more than to knock Pwent from his feet. Gradually,
sobered by the threats of the vicious battlerager commander, they managed to find a rhythm, and soon had Pwent skipping about the floor.
Then they had him up in the air, flying wildly, round and round. But too much slack was given the rope, and Pwent scraped hard against one of the corridor walls, his helmet spike throwing a line of bright sparks.
This group learned fast, though—considering that they were dwarves who spent their days running headlong into steel-reinforced doors—and they soon had the timing of the spin and the length of the rope perfect.
Two turns, five turns, and off flew the battlerager, up into the air, to crash among the stalactites. Pwent grabbed onto one momentarily, but it broke away from the ceiling and down the dwarf and stone tumbled.
Pwent hit hard, then bounced right back to his feet.
'One less barrier to our enemy!' one dwarf roared, and before the dazed Pwent could protest, the others cheered and tugged, bringing the battlerager lariat to bear once more.
Up flew Pwent, to similar, painful results, then a third time, then a fourth, which proved the charm, for the poor drow, blind to the scene, finally dared to come out into the open, edging his way to the west.
He sensed the living lariat coming and managed to scramble behind a long, thin stalactite, but that hardly mattered, for Pwent took the stone out cleanly, wrapped his arms about it, and about the drow behind it, and drow, dwarf, and stone fell together, crashing hard to the floor. Before the drow could recover, half the brigade had fallen over him, battering him into unconsciousness.
It took them another five minutes to get the semiconscious Pwent to let go of the victim.
They were up and moving, Pwent included, soon after, having tied the drow, ankles and wrists to a long pole, supported on the shoulders of two of the group. They hadn't even cleared the corridor, though, when the dwarves farthest to the west, the two Pwent had sent to watch, took up a cry of 'Drow!' and spun about at the ready.
Into the passage came a lone, trotting dark elf, and before Pwent could yell out 'Not that one!' the two dwarves lowered their heads
and roared in.
In a split second, the dark elf cut left, back to the right, spun a complete circuit to the right, then went wide around the end, and the two Gutbusters stumbled and slammed hard into the wall. They realized their foolishness when the great panther came by an instant later, following her drow companion.
Drizzt was back by the dwarves' side, helping them to their feet. 'Run on,' he whispered, and they paused at the warning long enough to hear the rumble of a not-so-distant charge.
Misunderstanding, the Gutbusters smiled widely and prepared to continue their own charge to the west, headlong into the approaching force, but Drizzt held them firmly.
'Our enemies are upon us in great numbers,' he said. 'You will get your fight, more than you ever hoped for, but not here.»
By the time Drizzt, the two dwarves, and the panther caught up to Pwent, the noise of the coming army was clearly evident.
'I thought ye said the damned drow moved silent,' Pwent remarked, double-stepping beside the swift ranger.
'Not drow,' Drizzt replied. 'Kobolds and goblins.»
Pwent skidded to an abrupt halt. 'We're runnin' from stinkin' kobolds?' he asked.
'Thousands of stinking kobolds,' Drizzt replied evenly, 'and bigger monsters, likely with thousands of drow behind them.»
'Oh,' answered the battlerager, suddenly out of bluster.
In the familiar tunnels, Drizzt and the Gutbusters had no trouble keeping ahead of the rushing army. Drizzt took no detours this time, but ran straight to the east, past the tunnels the dwarves had rigged to fall.
'Run on,' the drow ordered the assigned trap-springers, a handful of dwarves standing ready beside cranks that would release the ropes supporting the tunnel structure. Each of them in turn stared blankly at the surprising command.
'They're coming,' one remarked, for that is exactly why these dwarves were out in the tunnels.
'All you will catch is kobolds,' Drizzt, understanding the drow tactics, informed them. 'Run on, and let us see if we cannot catch a few drow as well.»
'But none'll be here to spring the traps!' more than one dwarf, Pwent among them, piped in.
Drizzt's wicked grin was convincing, so the dwarves, who had learned many times to trust the ranger, shrugged and fell in line with the retreating Gutbusters.
'Where're we runnin' to?' Pwent wanted to know.
'Another hundred strides,' Drizzt informed him. 'Tunult's Cavern, where you will get your fight.»
'Promises, promises,' muttered the fierce Pwent.
Tunult's Cavern, the most open area this side of Mithril Hall, was really a series of seven caverns connected by wide, arching tunnels. Nowhere was the ground even; some chambers sat higher than others, and more than one deep fissure ran across the floors.
Here waited Bruenor and his escorts, along with nearly a thousand of Mithril Hall's finest fighters. The original plan had called for Tunult's Cavern to be set up as an outward command post, used as a send-off point to the remaining, though less direct, tunnels after the drow advance had been stopped cold by the dropped stone.
Drizzt had altered that plan, and he rushed to Bruenor's side, conferring with the dwarf king, and with Bidderdoo Harpell, a wizard that the drow was surely relieved to find.
'Ye gave up the trap-springing positions!' Bruenor bellowed at the ranger as soon as he understood that the tunnels beyond were still intact.
Chapter 20 THE BATTLE OF TUNULT'S CAVERN
The confusion was immediate and complete, kobolds swarming in by the dozens, and tough dwarves forming into tight battle groups and rushing fast to meet them.
Catti-brie put her magical bow up and fired arrow after arrow, aiming for the main entrance. Lightning flashed with each shot as the enchanted bolt sped off, crackling and sparking every time it skipped off a wall. Kobolds went down in a line, one arrow often killing several, but it hardly seemed to matter, so great was the invading throng.
Guenhwyvar leaped away, Drizzt quick-stepping behind. A score of kobolds had somehow wriggled past the initial fights and were bearing down on Bruenor's position. A shot from Catti-brie felled one; Guenhwyvar's plunge scattered the rest, and Drizzt, moving quicker than ever, slipped in, stabbed one, pivoted and spun to the left, launching the blue-glowing Twinkle against the attempted parry of another. Had Twinkle been a straight blade, the kobold's small sword would have deflected it high, but Drizzt deftly turned the curving weapon over in his hand and
