Realms of the Underdark - J. Robert King [118]
"No problem," Woodehous replied in all sincerity.
Glancing back at the mind flayer and the merchant, Volo noticed that they seemed to be pointing to the path from which the foursome had come.
"I almost forgot," Volo said to himself. Then, out loud, he said, "Courun, I think Percy and I have to take our boots off before we get into the city."
"Why?" the captor inquired.
"Custom, I think," the gazetteer explained, making it up as he went along, "at least that's what I heard, and we wouldn't want to get things off on the wrong foot, I mean, just when you and Haukun are on the verge of returning to respectability."
Courun turned to Haukun, and asked, "Do you remember anything about captives having to be brought into the city barefoot?"
"No," Haukun answered, "but you and I have been away for a long time, and he does seem to know a lot about these types of things."
The two drow helped their captives off with their boots while the puzzled Woodehous looked at his companion for assurance.
"Believe me," the gazetteer asserted, "it's important."
Woodehous realized this last comment was strictly for his own reassurance.
Luckily for the two bound captives, the road ahead was smooth, posing little threat to the delicate soles of their feet. The former maitre d'/cook/waiter noticed that Volo took more than a passing interest in their surroundings, as if he were trying to memorize everything in a matter of seconds.
The road opened out into a huge cavern, within which the city was situated.
All four travelers were momentarily speechless in awe of its magnificence.
"Araurikaurak," Volo mouthed, his eyes wide in wonder.
"No," Courun corrected, "Menzoberranzan."
"I was just using its dwarven name," Volo replied, adding absently, still in awe of its splendor, "It's just as I pictured it."
"You mean, as you remembered it," Woodehous corrected, asking, "don't you?"
"Whatever," the master traveler replied absently, "… and I am here now."
Menzoberranzan The city itself filled the entire cavern. Volo had been slightly mistaken when he called the city Araurikaurak. In reality that was the name of the cavern, quite literally translated from dwarven as Great Pillar Cavern. Legend had it that the entire open area was formerly the lair of a gigantic spider, but given the proclivity of the drow for adoration of all things arachnoid, the validity of this legend was more than open to discussion.
From their vantage point just outside and above the city, they were able to look down on the wonders of the entire subterranean complex.
Woodehous noticed a lake at the lower end of the cavern, and whimsically asked, "I wonder how the fishing is?"
"If you are lucky, you might find out," Courun replied. "That's Donigarten, where the slave pens are maintained. In the nearby dung fields, I am sure you would find ample fungi and mushrooms to season the nautical fare you'd fish."
From this distance, the former maitre d'/cook/waiter could just make out some of the slaves paddling around the lake on rafts, some leading beasts of burden, others little better than beasts of burden themselves. This was not an existence to be envied.
At the highest part of the city floor stood the Tier Breche, home of the Academy, where drow received their training. The prospects of life in the slave pens for Woodehous was every bit as abhorrent to him as the memories that flooded back to the two drow warriors upon once again seeing the place of their education.
To the other side of the city floor was the Qu'ellarz'orl, a plateau separated from the lower city by a grove of giant mushrooms. This was where the noble houses were located, and where Courun and Haukun expected to regain their rightful places. Numerous flashes of faerie fire in the houses indicated that there were several parties going on, commemorating various celebrations of one sort and another.
"Soon, they will be throwing parties for us," Courun replied with a haughtiness that was quite unbecoming.
Looming