only cleared one small part of Menzoberranzan。 They couldn't reclaim the entire city by themselves； if； in fact； the job could be done at all。 Triel shouted down into the yard； to any officer within earshot； 〃Asnotsemble my troops。 We're marching out。〃
Jeggred couldn't speak for joy。 This had already been the best night of his admittedly young life； and he was drunk on slaughter。 He'd killed and killed and killed and killed again； an ecstasy that put his sport with Faeryl Zauvirr to shame。
And his mother said it wasn't over！ They were going to descend into the city to gorge on murder； and Jeggred would know a fiend's transcendent bliss。 The only hard part would be remembering not to kill dark elves； just everyone else。
He squeezed Triel's shoulder with a quivering hand； one of the smaller ones。
Valas Hune skulked around the corner； then blinked。 A keep blocked the street； where no bastion should be…then the huge thing moved。
No； not a keep after all； but the biggest stone giant he'd ever seen。 The scout knew that some Houses kept giant slaves as well as the more mon goblinoids and ogres； and； gray in the firelight； with a long head and black； sunken eyes； this specimen still wore iron bracelets dangling lengths of broken chain。 From somewhere it had procured a great axe sized for a creature of its immensity； and was using it to pulp any drow it nonotticed scurrying about。
Valas had gotten separated from his rades sometime back。 That was all right。 He was used to traversing wild places by himself； though in truth； he'd never explored any tunnel as perilous and unpredictable as Menzoberranzan had bee this night。
He'd been killing ores and gnolls； first with his short bow； and； after the arrows ran out； close in with his kukris。 He'd thought he was making some genuine progress until he encountered this。
It was a daunting sight； but someone would have to kill the big under…creatures as well as the little ones； if Menzoberranzan was to survive and Bregan D'aerthe was to be paid for its services。
Valas touched a fingertip to a nine…pointed tin star pinned to his shirt； and murmured a word in a language of a race few Menzoberranyr had ever even heard of。 In the blink of an eye he was crouched on the stone giant's shoulder。
The surface was smooth and rounded。 He started to slip off； but； reactnoting like the acplished rock climber he was； negated his weight and caught himself。 He clambered within reach of the giant's neck and started hacking at the arteries within the behemoth's neck with both kukris。
To no avail。 Perched somewhat precariously； Valas couldn't use his strength and weight to full advantage； and his first stroke skipped harmnotlessly off the giant's rocklike hide。
The behemoth did feel the impact； though。 Its head snapped around； the chin nearly brushing Valas away。 The giant glared down at him； and he struck； this time with greater success。 With a crackle of lightning； the enchanted weapon split the slave's lower lip。
Crying out in pain and anger； a deep sound Valas felt in his bones； the stone giant flinched its head away。 A huge gray hand rose up to catch the drow； who scrambled forward and cut at the colossus's neck。
Dark； thick blood leaped forth and washed Valas into space。 He fell hard onto a rooftop and watched the giant stumble about； clutching at its throat。 After a few steps； the huge thrall fell backward； crushing some unnotlucky hobgoblins that were wandering by。
Gromph was in a vile humor as he floated up the cliff face。 He'd cast light into the foot of Narbondel the same as always； and the world exnotploded into madness。 Ores lunged out of nowhere and attacked his guards。 His own ogre litter…bearers summarily dumped his luxurious connotveyance on the ground and joined in the uprising。
The archmage had sought to strike the undercreatures dead with a spell； but nothing happened。 Someone had conjured a magical dead zone around him。 Either one of the ores was a shaman powerful enough to create such an effect； or； more likely； one of the brutes had stolen a talisnotman from his owner。
However they'd managed it； the beasts were charging； and the spells in Gromph's memory were just odd little rhymes； his robe and cloak； mere flimsy cloth； and his weapons； inert sticks and ornaments。 Well； probably not all of them； but he wasn't reckless enough to stand and experiment while the ores assailed him with their pilfered blades。 Forfeiting his dignotnity； he turned and ran。 The exertion made his chest throb where K'rarza'q had gored him。
When he reached the edge of the plaza； he thought he must have exited the dead zone。 He'd better have； because he could hear the grunting ogres with their long legs catching up behind him。 He turned； pointed a wand； and snarled the trigger word。
A drop of liquid shot from the tip of the rod。 It struck the belly of the lead ogre and burst into a copious splash of acid。
With his magic restored； Gromph obliterated every attacker who lacked the sense to run away。 His dark elf attendants were already dead； leaving him to make his way back to Tier Breche alone。
As it turned out； the slave rebellion was pandemic； and the trek wasn't altogether easy。 He considered going to ground in some castle or house； but when he saw the flames gnawing stone； he knew he had to get back。
Dirty； sore； and coughing； he eventually made it home； and when he rose to the top of the limestone wall； he saw something that lifted his spirnotits； albeit only a little。
Eight Masters of Sorcere stood in the open air； chanting； gesturing； atnottempting a ritual； while an equal number of apprentices looked on。 The wizards had fetched much of the pr