Passage to Dawn

'We've a fair number to tell!' Deudermont assured him.

The ropes went out and the fishing fleet put in line and began to guide and tow the great schooner.

'The brotherhood of sailors extends to those upon the lakes,' Drizzt remarked.

'So it would seem,' Deudermont agreed. 'If we had crew to replace, I'd know where to begin my search.' The captain looked over to Harkle, who was still staring forlornly at the deck. 'You did well, Master Harpell,' Deudermont said, and the wizard's face brightened as he looked up at the man. 'We would have perished in the uncharted waters so far from the Moonshaes, and now we shall live.'

'But on a lake,' Harkle replied.

Deudermont waved that notion away. 'Robillard will find us, and the two of you will find a way to put us back where we belong, I do not doubt. For now, my ship and my crew are safe, and that is all that matters. Well done!'

Harkle verily glowed.

'But why are we here?' Catti-brie had to ask.

'The fog of fate,' Drizzt and Harkle said in unison.

'And that means that there is something here that we need,' the wizard went on.

'Need for what?' Catti-brie asked.

'For the quest, of course!' Harkle roared. 'That is what this is all about, is it not?' He looked around as if that should explain everything, but saw that the stares coming back at him were not looks of comprehension. 'Before the storm, we were heading for …'

'Waterdeep,' Deudermont answered. 'Your spell has not put us closer to Waterdeep.'

Harkle waved his hands frantically. 'No, no,' he corrected. 'Not for Waterdeep, but for a priest, or perhaps a wizard, in Waterdeep.'

'And you think that we're more likely to find a spellcaster of the power we need here than in Waterdeep?' Drizzt asked incredulously. 'In this tiny town so far from home?'

'Good Captain Terraducket,' Harkle called.

'Here,' came the reply from farther away than before, for Terraducket's fishing boat had moved forward to join in the towing line.

'We seek a priest,' Harkle said. 'A very powerful priest …'

'Cadderly,' Terraducket interrupted without hesitation. 'Cadderly Bonaduce. You'll not find a more powerful priest in all the Realms!' Terraducket boasted, as if this Cadderly was the property of all of Carradoon.

Harkle cast a superior glance at his friends. 'Fog of fate,' he remarked.

'And where might we find this Cadderly?' Deudermont asked. 'In Carradoon?'

'No,' came Terraducket's reply. 'Two day's march out, into the mountains, in a temple called the Spirit Soaring.'

Deudermont looked to Harkle, no more doubting questions coming to surface.

Harkle clapped his hands together. 'Fog of fate!' he said again. 'Oh, and it all fits so well,' he said excitedly, as though another thought had just popped into his head.

'Fits like the Sea Sprite in a lake,' Catti-brie put in sarcastically, but Harkle just ignored her.

'Don't you see?' the wizard asked them all, excited once more and flapping those winglike arms. 'Sea Sprite and Spirit Soaring. SS and SS, after all! And fog of fate, ff.'

'I'm needin' a long sleep,' Catti-brie groaned.

'And HH!' Harkle bellowed. Drizzt looked at him curiously. 'Harkle Harpell!' the excited wizard explained, then he poked a finger the drow's way. 'And DD for Drizzt Do'Urden! FF for fog of fate, and SS and SS, HH and DD! And you. .' he pointed at Catti-brie.

'Doesn't work,' the young woman assured him.

'Doesn't matter,' Drizzt added. Deudermont was biting hard on his lip, trying not to steal Harkle's moment of glory with a burst of laughter.

'Oh, there's something in the letters,' Harkle said, speaking to himself more than to the others. 'I must explore this!'

'Explore yer mind,' Catti-brie said to him, and then she added under her breath, so that only Drizzt and Deudermont could hear, 'Better take a big lantern and a dwarf's cave pack.'

That brought a snicker.

'But your father!' Harkle yelled suddenly, leaping at Catti-brie. She barely held back from slugging him, so great was her surprise.

'Me father?' she asked.

'BB!' Harkle, Drizzt, and Deudermont all said together, the drow and the captain feigning excitement.

Catti-brie groaned again.

'Yes, yes. Bruenor Battlehammer,' Harkle said to himself, and started walking away. 'BB. Oh, I must explore the correlation of the letters, yes, I must.'

'While ye're thinkin' on it, find the correlation of BF,' Catti-brie said to him. The distracted wizard nodded and rambled along, making a straight path to Deudermont's private quarters, which Harkle had practically taken over.

'BF?' the captain asked Catti-brie.

'Babbling fool,' she and Drizzt replied together, drawing yet another laugh from those nearby. Still, neither Drizzt nor Catti-brie, Deudermont nor any of the others could dismiss the fact that the 'babbling fool' had apparently saved the Sea Sprite, and had put them closer to their goal.

Part 3 THE NATURE OF EVIL

They are the absolutes, the pantheon of ideals, the goodly gods and the evil fiends, forever locked in the struggle for the souls of the mortals. The concept that is Lloth is purely evil; that of Mielikki, purely good. As opposite as black and white, with no shades of gray in between. Thus are the concepts, good and evil. Absolute, rigid. There can be no justification for a truly evil act; there is no shade of gray. While an act of good often brings personal gain, the act itself is absolute as its measure is based on intent. This is epitomized by our beliefs in the pantheon, but what of the mortal races, the rational beings — the humans and the races of elvenkind and dwarvenkind, the gnomes and the halflings, the goblinoids and giantkin? Here the question muddles, the absolutes blend.

To many, the equation is simple: I am drow, drow are evil, thus I am evil.

They are wrong. For what is a rational being if not a choice? And there can be no evil, nor any good, without intent. It is true that in the Realms there are races and cultures, particularly the goblinoids, which show a general weal of evil, and those, such as the surface elves, which lean toward the concept of good. But even in these, which many consider personifications of an absolute, it is the individual's intents and actions that ultimately decide. I have known a goblin who was not evil; I am a drow who has not succumbed to the ways of his culture. Still, few drow and fewer goblins can make such claims, and so the generalities hold.

Most curious and most diverse among the races are the humans. Here the equation and the expectations muddle most of all. Here perception reins supreme. Here intent is oft hidden, secret. No race is more adept than humans at weaving a mask of

justification. No race is more adept than humans at weaving a mask of excuses, at ultimately claiming good intent. And no race is more adept at believing its own claims. How many wars have been fought, man against man, with both armies espousing that god, a goodly god, was on their side and in their hearts?

But good is not a thing of perception. What is «good» in one culture cannot be «evil» in another. This might be true of mores and minor practices, but not of virtue. Virtue is absolute.

It must be. Virtue is the celebration of life and of love, the acceptance of others and the desire