(Untitled)

[twoswordpsycho]

Application for Drizzt Do’Urden (Forgotten Realms)

((Spoilers for the Legend of Drizzt Series including The Orc King))

Change

It is what happens with the passage of time, whether we mere mortals like it or not.
It is the wave against the rock, the falling of the shore into the ocean.
The challenge is to see this as change and not pure

Comments

[iam_beowulf]

Beowulf, still in the throes of his own unique Sorting, caught a familiar glint (gold) and the intoning of a familiar word (dragon).

He stomped over to the newcomer.

"I AM BEOWULF," he said. It was an effort not to follow it up with I'm here to kill your monster -- once, someone had shot back the monster's name is Grendel, to which Beowulf had doggedly replied I'm here to kill your Grendel, the response was that rote and that compelling -- but he managed, by dint of clamping his mouth shut for a moment.

When it was safe to continue, he went on: "ARE YOU A DESPOILER OF DRAGONS?"

It was a remark that could be taken more than one way, if you knew Beowulf's intimate history, but so few people did, and the ones who did know really didn't want to think about it (cf.: Wiglaf).

[twoswordpsycho]

Drizzt kept a straight face, but wanted to give a beaming grin. In this new universe, here was a person with which he had a familiarity; a northland barbarian. This was likely the macho type obsessed with glory and treasure as most of his tribesman seemed to be, yet he could appreciate that. Maybe he had met a fellow adventurer.

"Well met Beowulf," he replied. "I am Drizzt Do'Urden, and I have indeed slain a dragon; an enormous white dragon named Icingdeath." He pulled the sword from his left hip and showed the diamond encrusted hilt to Beowulf, feeling exceedingly happy to have someone here he could share adventuring stories with. "Though I owe half the kill to a close friend, a Northlander named Wulfgar who likely shares a few of your customs. What land are you from, Beowulf?"

[iam_beowulf]

Beowulf peered at the gem-adorned dragon-treasure. Ah, how it gleamed, in the way of spoils glory-gotten, the strong-forged bright-bladed life-taker. Over the whale-road and the swan-road must this dark man have journeyed to win such a goodly gain.

"I AM FROM THE LAND OF THE GEATS. MY THIRD COUSIN GOES BY THE NAME OF WULFGAR. SO DOES MY SECOND UNCLE TWICE-REMOVED. THEY ARE WULFGAR CROOKED-TOOTH AND WULFGAR THIRSTQUENCHER, RESPECTIVELY. IF YOU HAVE A FEW SPARE HOURS I COULD SING YOU MY GENEALOGY," Beowulf offered. "WE COULD SPEAK OF WULFGARS WE HAVE KNOWN."

[twoswordpsycho]

Drizzt smiled. Apparently the name Wulfgar was common in many lands, from the Tribe of the Elf to the Geats.

"We shall sing such tales once we are settled here, I swear it," he said with a grin, sheathing his weapon.

[c_macaulay]

A youngish fair-haired human woman, spare of frame, gave the application a once-over, then the same to the applicant. Incongruously, she was dressed for the late-autumn chill, long black coat and puffy tall boots over jeans, yet she carried fresh flowers -- a sheaf of paperwhites, stolen from the greenhouse; en route from greenhouse to dorm, she'd popped into the Sorting Room on a whim.

This was Camilla Winter, neé Macaulay, and her thoughts ran as follows: Oh, my. So many of these drow people. They ought to start a club. Camilla would have to owl Selvetarm about this one, too

[spiderthatwaits]

Selvetarm entered in time to hear her question. He took one look at Drizzt and answered her. "He isn't."

(A club with the current set of drow would be exciting, if nothing else)

He'd watched this one from time to time, sometimes over Lolth's shoulder; he didn't have nearly as many worshippers, which meant he could afford such diversions. "The only mythology?" A pause as he grasped for the name. "Mielikki had nothing?" At least Eilistraee never got hold of him. That would've - well, not killed him, Selvetarm honestly didn't care about it that much, but still.

[twoswordpsycho]

Drizzt looked at the woman with the same amount of politeness he gave to most. When she asked him about Vhaeraun, however, his features took a sour tinge. Maybe the reputation of his people had gone over the planes, an unfortunate development that would have him in despair in the past, but he had learned to deal with it in stride.

He was about to comment when another drow approached him. He stood at his guard, keeping calm and still though at the ready. He had heard no one could kill each other here, though he wanted to avoid bloodshed at any cost even if this was an unfriendly drow. Then again he needed to be a tad bit more open minded about his own kind. Maybe he had found another friend like Tos'un, or even Jarlaxle. The fact this one knew what goddess he worshiped and did not speak in a kind tone was another matter.

"Mielikki to me is about faith," he said evenly to the drow, "not about mere stories. The rest I could do without."

[c_macaulay]

Deftly, with unthinking grace, Camilla turned at a slight angle and took a step back to include Selvetarm physically in the figurative sphere of conversation. They were an irregular triangle now. The convenience of Selvetarm's timing pleased her: she wouldn't feel obliged to owl him about the new arrival, now that he'd seen for himself; nor would she need to hedge around the existence of other drow here if Drizzt should ask.

(Meanwhile a small part of her mind had taken off running with the whole drow-club concept. Could they have a treehouse? It would be cute. They could have a rope ladder and pull it up behind them, and maybe they could have a sign that said 'surface-dwellers keep out!' with the letter s written backward. Like old "Our Gang" short films, except with drow. Oh, they could have a mutt dog, too ...)

The name Mielikki sounded familiar to Camilla. She thought Henry had mentioned it, in one of his long absent-minded monologues on whatever topic he happened to be reading about. He loved old folklore and epic

[waste_lock]

"Cheddar. Cheddar again."

[insane_mil_cmdr]

Crais smirked at the display of swordsmanship - the sort of flashy move his Peacekeeper training had taught him to undercut easily - but let it pass.

"Tell me...what are these 'lines' of yours that this Barney and Carrottop should take care not to cross?"

[twoswordpsycho]

"I suppose as long as they refrain from attacking me that is the underlying theme," he said, "or if they generally pose a threat to innocents, that is one high standard I do have."

Drizzt wanted the message clear in this new group; he wasn't making any blanket statements against wickedness, though was making sure others knew exactly where he stood on other matters.

[totallyluminous]

Mel, by nature, is not a mercantile sort of creature. However, Christmas is coming up and Brice's present will cost quite a bit. While not one to usually approach applicants thinking directly about the bribe, it's useful in this case.

'Nice swords.'

[twoswordpsycho]

"Many thanks," he said. "Are you familiar with a blade at all?"

[totallyluminous]

Mel half-smiles, thinking of the sword made of light she uses to frighten demons into getting the hell away from her.

'Yeah, I suppose you could say that. Mine's not like one of yours, though.'

[twoswordpsycho]

"What matter of blade is it," Drizzt asked with a smile, hoping to hear more tales of adventure. "What manner of warrior are you, if I may ask?"