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By Root 967 0

by releasing an inferior volume called Cormyr: A History by Green Grubbwood (an alias if there ever was one), with a cover treatment more than a bit similar to the one on Justin's volume. TWL's sale were at an all-time high, and its position as the top publisher in all of the City of Splendors-if not all of Faerun, for that matter-was safely assured for yet another year.

All was rosy, Justin thought to himself as he looked out over the irregular rooftops that stretched along the labyrinthine corridors of the city, a single floor below his office's window. Still, there was no word from Volo.

"Uh, boss?" said Miss Elissa Silverstein, an exceptionally youthful flaxen blonde who had recently replaced Miss Latour as Tym's right hand. "There is someone here to see you."

Justin turned his chair away from the window to face his nubile assistant.

"Send whoever it is away," he ordered in a gruff yet disinterested tone. "I have work to do, and I do not wish to be disturbed."

"But, boss," she insisted, "he claims to have a message from one of your authors."

"Who?"

"A Mr. Geddarm."

Justin chuckled to himself, thinking, it's about time!

"All right," the publisher assented, "send him in."

Miss Silverstein hastened out of the publisher's private office and returned in nary a minute with a pale-skinned fellow who looked as if he hadn't seen the sun in a long time. The man handed him a parchment pouch that had become the signature of a Volo correspondence.

Quickly opening it, Justin read:

Justin, Your gracious indulgence has been appreciated.

I am off to Mulmaster to finish the Moonsea guide.

Before you stands your next "great find," with an idea for a surefire best-seller. Work your traditional marketing magic on him, and success is assured for all.

Talk to you soon. Keep the gelt coming, care of my friends at the Shipmaster's Hall.

Best, Volo Justin chuckled in gentle amusement. Volo was okay, the book would soon be on the way, and, therefore, all was right with the world. He quickly scanned the missive again, and then turned his attention to the pale gentleman standing before him.

"Volo's usually a pretty good judge of the marketing potential for a new book idea," Justin conceded out loud. "What's the hook?"

Percival Gallard Woodehous took a breath, as if to call upon all of his stores of courage, and started his pitch. "It's a cookbook, you see, involving a variety of subterranean fungi. Highly nutritious, tasty, and perfect for those interested in losing a few pounds. I've tentatively titled it The Underdark Diet."

Justin fought to hold back a smile and not give away any unnecessary enthusiasm that might drive the pale fellow's price up.

"I see," said the publisher in as even a tone as he could muster. "Continue," he instructed, leaning back and savoring the relief of having found the savior for next year's list.

The End (Really).

Realms of the Underdark

–1 –

This file was created with BookDesigner program

bookdesigner@the-ebook.org

8/27/2009

LRS to LRF parser v.0.9; Mikhail Sharonov, 2006; msh-tools.com/ebook/

Table of Contents

PREFACE: At the Publishing House

THE FIRES OF NARBONDEL

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

A SLOW DAY IN SKULLPORT

RITE OF BLOOD

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

SEA OF GHOSTS

VOLO DOES MENZO

POSTSCRIPT: Back at the Publishing House