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342 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1989
"Come on," Regis offered. "Sit with Drizzt and me. No one will bother a tough old dwarf, but a tiny halfling and a skinny elf might look like good sporty the brutes in here. We need your size and strength to deter such unwanted attention."
Wulfgar's chin firmed up at the compliment and he strode boldly toward the table. Regis shot Drizzt a knowing wink and turned to follow.
"Many lessons you will learn on this journey, young friend," Drizzt mumbled to Wulfgar, too softly for the barbarian to hear. "So far from your home."
Bruenar came back from the bar bearing four flagons of mead and grumbling under his breath. "We're to get out business finished soon," he said to Drizzt," and get back on the road. The cost of a room in this orc-hole is open thievery!"
"Guenhwyvar," he called softly. "Come, my shadow."
His beckon reached out across the fabric of the planes, to the astral home of the entity of the panther. The great cat stirred from her sleep. Many months had passed since her master had called, and the cat was anxious to serve.
Guenhwyvar leap out across the fabric of the planes, following a flicker of light that could only be the calling of the drow. Then the cat was in the alley with Drizzt, alert at once in the unfamiliar surroundings.