Realms of the Underdark - J. Robert King [111]
After more precious time had passed, Woodehous wondered aloud, "Which way did he go?" The question was born more out of exasperation than practicality, since Woodehous had long since given up noticing any of the other alley wayfarers of the Skullport twilight scene.
"Which way did who go, Pig?" inquired a voice from behind.
The now-former maitre d'/cook/waiter of Traitor Pick's quickly turned around and was confronted by the tentacled visage of one of his now-former patrons.
"Oh, it's you, Malix," Woodehous replied.
"Correct," replied the mind flayer mage, who had taken a fancy to Woodehous's recipe for duergar deep-dish. "I repeat the question. Which way did who go?"
"Volothamp Geddarm."
"You mean the loudmouthed storyteller from the Double G? He went thataway," Malix replied, one of his facial tentacles pointing down a dark alley. "Just follow the path of glowing dust. He must have stepped in something along the way. And beware! He was being followed by two unsavory-looking drow."
"Thanks, Malix," Woodehous replied, taking off into the shadows in the indicated direction.
"Don't thank me," Malix instructed, calling after him. "Just finish up your business and get back to work. I have a hankering for some dessert, and the faster you finish, the sooner my craving will be sated."
Woodehous raced down the narrow alley even though he couldn't see the path of glowing dust Malix had indicated. His diligence was soon rewarded. The alley ahead made a sharp turn to the right, narrowing down to a single body's width, and then right again, and opened onto an apparent dead end shrouded in total darkness.
He barely heard someone cry out "No," before he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head, upon which he was immediately drowned in the pitch-black ocean of unconsciousness.
Walking in Darkness Woodehous had no idea how long he had remained unconscious, and barely noticed coming around. He was poked and prodded to his feet, and then partly led, partly dragged through a narrow tunnel of darkness. The passage was lit occasionally by four marbles of purplish glow that bounced in step with his apparent captors.
Soon he felt the tunnel widen around him, and noted the absence of Skullport's telltale sea breeze. They seemed to be following a steady incline downward. His wrists had been tied together in front of him, and connected to a noose that had been cinched tight around his neck. The noose was in turn connected to some sort of leash, with which he was being led as he stumbled forward into the darkness.
Woodehous soon realized he was not the only unwilling member of the subterranean party.
"C'mon, you guys," implored a voice Woodehous recognized as Volo's, "can't you give us a break? We've been walking for hours. Can't we rest a bit?"
"All right," replied a mouth located just below two of the dancing purple orbs. "Skullport is now far behind us, and it would be foolish of you to imagine you could find your way back, anyway. You may sit and rest a bit."
"May I reach into my traveling pouch?" the famous gazetteer requested. "I have a gem that gives off a bit of illumination, which might make things a little easier for those of us not gifted with such acute night vision."
"All right," the voice replied, "but no funny stuff. Though I have every intention of taking you alive to Menzoberranzan, that does not preclude me from certain nonlethal treatments of your person that I am sure you would find quite unpleasant."
"Funny stuff? I wouldn't think of it," Volo replied.
Woodehous heard a rustling like fingers fishing in a purse, which was followed by a flash that required him to quickly shut his eyes. Slowly he reopened them, squinting toward the illumination. He turned away from the source of the light and took a few seconds to gaze at the surroundings, which slowly came into view as his eyes grew accustomed to the luminescence.
The group was in a cavern with walls formed of what appeared to be black glass, smooth and flat. If the telltale shadows of their party