"Crunch! Crunch!" the huge ogre roared, speaking to the elf and waving Aegis-fang.
"Slash, slash," came a remark behind the brute, spinning it around in surprise.
"Huh?"
The elf moved out around the side of the ogre and froze in place, staring hard at the slender dark figure who had come into the room.
Slowly Drizzt reached up and pulled his wet shirt down from in front of his face.
The ogre staggered, eyes bulging, but the drow was no longer even looking at the brute. He was staring hard at the elf, at the pair of blue, gold-flecked eyes staring out at him from behind the holes in a thin black mask, regarding him with haunting familiarity and intense hatred.
The ogre stammered over a couple more words, finally blurting, "Drow!"
"And no friend," said the elf. "Crunch him."
Drizzt, his scimitars still sheathed, simply stared at the elf, trying to figure out where he had seen those eyes before, where he had seen this elf before. And how had this one known right away that he was an enemy, almost as if expecting him?
"He has come to take your hammer, Bloog," the elf said teasingly.
The ogre exploded into motion, its roar shaking the stone of the walls. It grabbed up the hammer in both hands and chopped mightily at the drow. Or tried to, for Aegis-fang arced up behind the brute to slam hard into the low ceiling, cracking free a chip that dropped onto Bloog's head.
Drizzt didn't move, didn't take his intense stare off the elf, who was making no move against him, or even toward him.
Bloog roared again and stooped a bit. He tried again to crush the drow flat, this time with the hammer clearing the low ceiling and coming over in a tremendous swat.
Drizzt, who was standing somewhat sideways to the brute, hopped and did a sidelong somersault at the ogre, inside the angle of the blow. Even as the drow came around, he drew out his scimitars then landed lightly and bore into Bloog, stabbing several times and offering one slash before skittering out to the side opposite the elf.
The ogre retracted Aegis-fang easily with one arm, while he tried to grab at the drow with his free hand.
Drizzt was too quick for that, and as Bloog reached out in pursuit, the drow, who was skittering backward and still looking at the ogre, launched a double slash at the exposed hand.
Bloog howled and pulled his bloody hand in, but came forward in a sudden and devastating rush, Aegis-fang whipping wildly.
Drizzt dropped down to the floor, scrambled forward, came back up and rolled around the ogre's bulk, scoring a vicious double slash against the back of Bloog's hip as he passed. He stopped short, though, and rushed back expecting a charge from the elf, who now held a fine sword and dagger.
But the elf only laughed at him, and continued to stare.
"Bloog crunch you down!" the stubborn ogre roared, bouncing off the wall with a turn and charging back at Drizzt.
Aegis-fang whipped out, right and left, but Drizzt was in his pure fighting mode now, certainly not underestimating this monster - not with Aegis-fang in his grasp and not after he had nearly lost to a smaller ogre out by the tower.
The drow ducked the first swing, then ducked the second, and both times the drow managed to score small stings against the ogre's huge forearms.
Bloog swung again, and again Drizzt dropped to the floor. Aegis-fang smashed against the stone of the hearth, bringing a surprised squeak from Regis - who was still inside the chimney - that made Drizzt wince in fear.
Drizzt went forward hard, but the ogre didn't back from the twin stabbing scimitars, accepting the hit in exchange for a clear shot at the drow's puny head.
The whipping backhand with Aegis-fang, coming across and down, almost got Drizzt, almost smashed his skull to little bits.
He stabbed again, and hard, and rushed out to the side, but the ogre hardly seemed hurt, though his blood was running from many wounds.
Drizzt had to wonder how many hits it would take to bring this monster down.
Drizzt had to wonder how much time he had before others rushed in to the ogre's aid.
Drizzt had to wonder when that elf, seeming so very confident, would decide to join in.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Screaming to Tempus, his god of battle, the former guiding light in his warrior existence, the son of Beornegar charged along the winding trail. Sometimes the path was open to his right and sometimes blocked by low walls of stone. Sometimes the mountain on his left was steep and sheer, other times it sloped gradually, affording him a wider view of the mound.
And affording archers hiding among the higher rocks clear shots at him.
But Wulfgar ran on, coming to a place where the path leveled out. Around a bend ahead, in a larger area, he heard the ogre rock-thrower. With a silent prayer to Tempus, the barbarian charged right in, howling when the brute saw him, ducking when the surprised ogre hurled its boulder at him.
Seeing the boulder fly above the mark, the ogre reached for a heavy club, but Wulfgar was too fast for the brute to get its weapon ready. And the barbarian was too enraged, too full of battle-lust, for the ogre to accept the bardiche hit. The weapon pounded home with tremendous force, driving deep into theogre's chest, sending it back against the wall, where it slumped in the last moments of its life.
But as Wulfgar leaped back, he understood that he was in trouble. For in that mighty hit, he felt the bardiche handle crack apart. It didn't splinter completely, but Wulfgar knew that the integrity of the weapon had been severely compromised. Worse still, a rock at the back of the clearing, against the mountain, suddenly rolled aside, revealing a passageway. Out poured another half-ogre, roaring and charging. A small and ugly man came out beside it, with a red-haired, powerful-looking woman behind them.
An arrow skipped off the stone right beside the backing barbarian, and he understood that he had to stay closer to the mountain wall in this exposed place.
He bore in on the half-ogre, then stopped fast as the brute lowered its head and shoulder and tried to barrel over him. How glad Wulfgar was at that moment that he had been trained by Drizzt Do'Urden, that he had learned the subtleties and wisdom of angled deflection instead of just shrugging off every hit and responding in kind. He slipped to the side a single step, leaving his leg out in front of the overbalancing brute, then turned as the half-ogre stumbled past, planting the butt of his weapon behind the half-ogre's armpit and shoving with all his strength.
Wulfgar took some relief as the brute barreled forward, right over the lip of the front side of the clearing, tumbling over the rocks there. He didn't know how far down the mountainside the brute might be falling, but he understood that it was out of the fight for a while, at least.
And a good thing that was, for the human pirate was right there, stabbing with a nasty sword, and Wulfgar had to work furiously to keep that biting tip at bay. Worse, the red-haired woman bore in, her sword working magnificently, rolling around the blocking bardiche and forcing Wulfgar back with a devilish thrust.
She was good. Wulfgar recognized that at once. He knew it would take all his energy if he was to have any hope. So the barbarian took a chance, stepping forward suddenly and accepting a slight stab from the man on his side.
That stab had little energy, though, for as the man started to attack, Wulfgar let go of his weapon with his right hand and punched straight out, connecting on the pirate's face even as his smile started to widen. Before his sword could slip deeply into the barbarian's side, the pirate was flying away, crumpling to the stone.
Then it was Wulfgar and Sheila Kree - Wulfgar recognized that this was indeed the pirate leader. How he wished she was holding Aegis-fang instead of this fine-edged sword. How he would have loved to summon the warhammer from her hand at that moment, then turn it back against her!
As it was, the barbarian had to work furiously to keep the warrior pirate at bay, for Sheila was surely no novice to battle. She stabbed and slashed, spun a complete circle and dived her sword in at Wulfgar's neck. The barbarian found himself forced back out into the open and took another hit as an arrow slashed down across his shoulder.
Sheila's smile widened.
A large ogre came out of the opening in the mountainside. Another roar came from above, and yet another from behind Wulfgar and not so far down the mountain - the half-ogre he had tripped up, he knew, on its way back.
"I need you!" the desperate barbarian cried out to his friends, but the wind stole the momentum from that call.
He knew that Catti-brie and Bruenor, wherever they were, would not likely hear him. He felt the bardiche handle cracking even more in his hand, and believed that the weapon would break apart in his hands with the next hit.
He forced his way forward again, skipping to his left, trying to delay the ogre's entry into the fray for as long as possible. But then he saw yet another form come out of the opening, another human pirate, it seemed, and he knew that he was doomed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Drizzt scored and scored again, using the tight quarters and the low ceiling against the huge ogre. This one would have proven a much tougher opponent outdoors, the drow knew, especially with Aegis-fang in hand. But in here, now that he had the ogre's speed sorted out, the drow was too quick and too experienced.
Wound after wound opened up on the howling Bloog, and the ogre started calling for the elf to jump in and help.
And that elf did come forward, and Drizzt prepared a new strategy he had just worked out for keeping the ogre between him and this newest opponent. Before the drow could implement that strategy, though, the ogre lurched suddenly. A new and deeper wound appeared behind Bloog's hip, and the elf smiled wickedly.
Drizzt looked at the elf with amazement, and so did the ogre.
And the elf promptly drove the sword in again. The ogre howled and spun, but Drizzt was right there, his scimitar taking the beast deep in the kidney.
Back and forth it went, the two skilled warriors picking away while poor Bloog turned back and forth, never recovering from that initial surprise and the deep wound.
Soon enough, the big ogre went down hard and lay still.
Drizzt stood staring at the elf from across the large body. His scimitar tips lowered toward the floor, but he had them ready, unsure of this one's motives and intent.
"Perhaps I am a friend," the elf said, in a tone that was mocking and insincere. "Or perhaps I just wanted to kill you myself and grew impatient with Bloog's pitiful efforts against you."
Drizzt was circling then, and so was the elf, moving about Bloog's body, keeping it between as a deterrent to the potential foe.
"It would seem as if only you can answer which of the possibilities it might be."
The elf snorted derisively. "I have waited for this moment for years, Drizzt Do'Urden," came the surprising response.
Drizzt took a deep breath. This was as challenger here, perhaps someone who had studied his abilities and reputation and had prepared against him. This was not one to take lightly - he had seen the warrior's graceful movements against Bloog - but the drow suddenly remembered that he had more at stake here than this one fight, that he had others counting on him.
"This is not the time for a personal challenge," he said.
"This is exactly the time," the elf answered. "As I have arranged!"
"Regis!" Drizzt called.
The drow burst forward, putting both scimitars in one hand, grabbing Aegis-fang with the other, and tossing it into the hearth. The halfling leaped down to grab it up, pausing only to see the first exchange as the elf leaped in at Drizzt, sword and dagger flashing.
But Drizzt was away in the blink of an eye, scimitars out and ready, balanced in a perfect defensive posture.
Regis knew that he had no place in this titanic struggle, so he gathered up the warhammer and climbed back up the chimney, then moved down the other side passage toward the apparently empty room they had already scouted.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The wind was just right, and so Catti-brie heard Wulfgar's desperate call for help after all. She knew he was in trouble, could hear the fighting up above, could see the half-ogre scrambling, almost back to the ledge.
But the woman, who had leaped across the ravine to the winding trail, was held in place by a barrage of arrows coming down at her.
Guenhwyvar had finally taken form by then, but before Catti-brie could even offer a command to the panther, an arrow drove down into the cat. Guenhwyvar, with a great roar, leaped away.
Catti-brie worked furiously then, using every opportunity to pop back out from the mountainside and let fly a devastating missile. Her arrow blasted through stone, and given the cry of pain and surprise, apparently scored a hit on one of the archers. But they were many, and she was stuck and could not get to Wulfgar.
She did manage to slip out and let fly at the half-ogre that was stubbornly climbing back to Wulfgar's position, her missile slamming the creature in the hip and sending it into a slide back down the slope.
But Catti-brie took an arrow for her efforts, the missile biting into her forearm. She fell back against the wall with a cry. The woman clutched at the shaft gingerly, then steeled her gaze and her grip. Growling away the agony, she pushed the arrow through. Catti-brie reached for her pack, pulling forth a bandage and tightly wrapping the arm.
"Bruenor, where are you?" she said quietly, fighting against despair.
It occurred to her as more than a passing possibility that they had all come together again just to be sundered apart, and permanently.
"Oh, get to him, Guen," the woman quietly begged, tying off the bandage and wincing away the pain as she set another arrow.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He fought brilliantly, purely on instinct, without rage and without fear. But he got hit again and again, and though no one wound was serious, Wulfgar knew that it was only a matter of time - a very short amount of time - before they overcame him. He sang out to Tempus, thinking it fitting, hoping it acceptable to the god, that he be singing that name as he died.
For surely this was the end for the son of Beornegar, with the red-haired pirate and the ogre pressing him, with his weapon falling apart in his hands, with a third opponent swiftly moving in.
No one could get to him in time.
He was glad, at least, that he might die honorably, in battle.
He took a stinging hit from the red-haired pirate, then had to pivot fast to block the ogre, and knew even as he turned that it was over. He had just left an opening for Sheila Kree to cut him down.
He glanced back to see the fatal blow.
Wulfgar, content for the first time in so many years, smiled.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Shouts of surprise from above clued Catti-brie, and she dared to leap out into the open.
There, above her, mighty Guenhwyvar charged the archers' nest, taking arrow after stinging arrow, but never veering and never slowing. The archers were standing then, and so the woman wasted no time in putting an arrow into the side of one's head, then taking down another.
She took aim for a third, but held the shot, for Guenhwyvar leaped in among the nest then, scattering the band. One man tried to scramble up the back side, farther up the mountain, but a great black paw caught him in the back of his leg and tore him back down.
Another man leaped over the rim of the nest, falling and bouncing, preferring to the fall to the grim fate at the claws of the panther. He tried desperately to control his descent and finally managed to settle on a stone.
Right in Catti-brie's sights.
He died quickly, at least.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sheila Kree had him dead, obviously so, and her sword dived in at Wulfgar's exposed flank.
But the pirate leader had to pull back before ever hitting the mark, for a pair of legs wrapped around her waist, and a pair of daggers stabbed in viciously at the sides of her neck.
The veteran pirate bent forward, flipping the cunning assassin over her.
"Morik, ye dog!" she cried as the rogue went into a roll that stood him up right beside Wulfgar, bloody daggers in hand.
Sheila stumbled backward, taking some comfort as more of her fighters passed her by.
"Kill 'em both!" she screamed as she staggered back into the cave complex.
"Like old times, eh?" Morik said to the stunned Wulfgar, who was already back to fending the ogre attacker.
Wulfgar could hardly respond. He just shook his head at the unexpected reprieve.
"Like old times?" Morik said again, as he fell into a fight with a pair of dirty pirates.
"We didn't win many of the fights in the old times," Wulfgar poignantly reminded him, for the odds had far from evened.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *