Even after the greeting by the guards sent out from Shallows, the response from the town the following morning, when the King of Mithral Hall and his entourage walked through the front gate of the walled town, stunned the group.
Trumpeters sounded from the parapets and from the top of the lone tower that stood along the northern wall of the small town. Though none of the trumpeters was very good, and none dressed in the shining armor one might expect from the court of a larger city like Silverymoon, Bruenor was certain that he had never heard anyone play with more heart.
All the people of the village, more than a hundred, encircled the area beyond the gate, clapping and waving and throwing petals. There were more women than Bruenor had expected from a frontier town and even a few children, including a couple of babies. Perhaps he should be spending quite a bit of time out of Mithral Hall and watching over these developing towns, Bruenor mused. It was not an unpleasant thought. In just looking at the place, it seemed to him as if Shallows was trying hard to become a regular town, a settled place, instead of the pocket of rogues and outlaws he had always thought it and all the other towns of the Savage Frontier to be. He considered his former home then, Ten-Towns, and recalled the evolution of those ten cities into something far more settled than they had been when he had first arrived in Icewind Dale those centuries before.
The dwarf, leading the procession, paused and looked around, past the many cheering people to their sturdy houses. Most were made of stone with supporting wooden frames, and all were built solid, as if the inhabitants meant to be there for a while. Bruenor nodded his silent approval, his gaze gradually moving to the single tower that so clearly marked the town. It was a thirty-foot gray cylinder, flying a pennant of a pair of hands surrounded by golden stars on a red background. A wizard's emblem, obviously, and when the crowd before him parted and a white-bearded old man walked through, dressed in a tall and pointy hat and bright red robes emblazoned in golden stars, it wasn't hard for the dwarf to make the connection.
"Welcome to my humble town, King Bruenor of Mithral Hall," the man said, walking up to stand right before Bruenor. He swept off his hat and fell into a grand bow. "I am Withegroo Seian'Doo, the founder of Shallows and present liege. This honor is unexpected but surely not unwelcome."
"Me greetings to yerself, Withe . .."
"Withegroo."
"Withegroo," Bruenor finished. "And I'm not yet King Bruenor- well, not yet again, if ye get me meaning."
"It was with great sadness that I and my fellow townsfolk here heard of the passing of your ancestor, Gandalug."
"Yep, but the old one had himself a few good centuries, and I'm not thinking we can be askin' for more than that," Bruenor replied.
He looked around, to see the cheery and sincere smiles of the townsfolk, and he knew that he could be at ease there, that he and his friends, even Drizzt who was standing right behind him, were indeed welcomed guests in Shallows.
"Got the word in the west," the dwarf explained. "In Icewind Dale, where me and a few o' me friends were making our homes."
"Did you get lost on your journey home to Mithral Hall?"
Bruenor shook his head.
"Found me a couple o' friends from Felbarr," he explained, and he turned and indicated Tred, who gave an uncomfortable though still gracious bow. "They'd found themselves a bit o' trouble with some orcs."
He noted a shadow cross over Withegroo's wrinkled old face and long, hawkish nose. The man's enormous cars twitched beneath the bristles of his wild while hair, which was slicking out in every direction under the bent brim of his red hat.
Bruenor matched that look with a grave one of his own.
"Ye know the town o' Clicking Heels?" he asked somberly.
Withegroo looked around, to see several of his townsfolk nodding.
"Well, it ain't no more," Bruenor said bluntly. "Orcs 'n giants laid it to waste. Killed them all."
Groans, gasps, and whispers sprang up all around the courtyard.
"We been chasin' the dogs and killed more than a few," Bruenor went on quickly, wanting to put a better light on the tragedy. "Left a handful o' giants and near to a hunnerd orcs layin' dead in the mountains, but we thinked it smart to come in here and make sure that Shallows was standing strong."
"Stronger than you can imagine," Withegroo replied.
He stood up straight and tall -and he was tail, well over six feet, tall enough to look Wulfgar in the eye without bending back his head. Unlike Wulfgar, though, the man was stick lean and couldn't have weighed more than half the barbarian's three hundred pounds.
"We have suffered the likes of orcs and giants many times," the wizard continued, "but not once have any crossed the line of our strong walls."
"Old Withegroo lays 'em dead with his lightning!" one man shouted from the side, and others immediately took up the chorus of cheers for the wizard,
Withegroo smiled, somewhat sheepishly, somewhat pridefully, and turned to them, patting his hands humbly to silence the growing chorus.
"I do what I can," the wizard said to Bruenor, turning back to face the dwarf. "I am no novice to battle, and I made my name and my fortune adventuring in dark caves filled with all sorts of beasts."
"And ye bought yerself a town," Bruenor remarked, with no sarcasm in his tone.
"I built myself a tower," the wizard corrected. "I thought this a fine place to live out my days, in study and recollections of adventures past. These good folk" -he turned and swept his hand across the crowd- "found me, one by one and family by family. I believe they recognized the value of having so striking a landmark as my tower in their intended settlement-brings in the dwarf traders, you see."
He ended with an exaggerated wink, which brought a smile to Bruenor's face.
"Bet they weren't minding having a wizard lookin' over them, throwing a few bolts o' lightning at any monsters venturing too close, either," the dwarf said to Withegroo, who took the compliment in stride.
"I do what I can."
"I'm bettin' ye do."
"Well," the wizard said with a deep breath, setting an abrupt change in the conversation. "You have come to check in on us, and an honor it is, King-or soon to be King-Bruenor Battlehammer. You can sec that we are secure and strong, but I beg you, do not take quick leave of us. The walls of Shallows and the houses alike are of stone, and may seem cold - though not to a dwarf!-but they mask hearths of warmth and the voices of those with many adventures to share." He stepped back and looked up, addressing the whole company. "You are welcome, one and all. Welcome to Shallows!"
And with that, a great cheer went up form all the townsfolk, and Bruenor motioned for his road-weary group to disperse and relax.
"A bit better welcome than we received from Mirabar," Drizzt remarked to Bruenor, Catti-brie, Regis, and Wulfgar when the dwarf king moved away from Withegroo to rejoin his closest friends.
"Yeah, Mirabar." Bruenor grumbled. "Remind me to knock that place down."
"Not a sign of orc about," Catti-brie said, "and a town with strong walls and stronger folk, and a wizard backing them. . . ."
She nodded her approval.
"And a southern road awaiting us," Wulfgar put in.
"But not right yet," said Catti-brie. "I'm thinking we should stay on a bit, just to be sure they're safe."
"Ye got a feeling, do ye?" Bruenor asked.
Catti-brie looked around, and despite the festivities, the laughter, and the seemingly normal scene, a cloud crossed her face.
"Yeah, I got it, too," said Bruenor. "But not to worry. We'll be checkin' all the land, and we'll take our march to the Surbrin in the east. Tred's telling me there's a couple more towns down that way. Let's see how many o' the folk in the region are as welcoming to King Bruenor and his friends."
He looked at Drizzt and pointedly added, "All his friends." The drow shrugged as if it did not matter, and in truth, it did not.
"There are ten thousand more in dark holes who will be led if they believe that they will find greater glory," Ad'non Kareese said to his three companions.
He had just returned from a scouting circuit of the region between the dark elves hideaway and Gerti's complex, including a pair of visits with other minor monster kings: an orc who knew of Obould and a particularly wretched goblin.
"Twenty thousand," Donnia corrected, "at least. The mountain caverns crawl with the little beasts, and the only thing that keeps them in there is their own stupidity and fear. If Obould and Gerti claim this prize, the head of the king of the dwarven stronghold, then we will coax more than a few, I am certain."
"To what end?" Kaer'lic interjected doubtfully. "Then we will only have to look at the beasts scurrying about the surface."