The crossover is with
RA Salvatore's Dark Elf stories and with 'his' War of
the Spider Queen series, particularly the first volume, Dissolution.
Homeland describes the early life of
the dark elf, Drizzt Do'Urden, who was born in the drow
city of Menzoberranzan,
having been conceived as a sacrifice to the spider goddess, Lloth,
in furtherance of his mother's political ambitions. Drizzt, however,
was spared because, at the moment of his birth, his brother, Dinin,
murdered their oldest brother, Nalfein.
Drizzt is a strange
drow in several respectshe has lavender eyes; he is an exceptional
warrior in a race of exceptional warriors; and (like his father,
Zaknafein, but unlike most other drow) he has a conscience.
Shortly after graduating
from Tier Breche, the drow Academy, Drizzt was chosen to take
part in a surface raid led by Dinin. After travelling through
The Underdark
for more than a week, the raiding party found a suitable crack
in the rock...
"You first,"
Dinin said to Drizzt. Drizzt looked at his brother incredulously,
having no idea how he could pass through such a tiny crack.
"Come,"
instructed the cleric, who now held a many-holed orb. "Walk
past me and continue through."
As Drizzt passed
the cleric, she spoke the orb's command word and held it over
Drizzt's head. Black flakes, blacker than Drizzt's ebony skin,
drifted over him, and he felt a tremendous shudder ripple across
his spine.
The others looked
on in amazement as Drizzt's body narrowed to the width of a hair
and he became a two-dimensional image, a shadow of his former
self.
Drizzt did not understand
what was happening, but the crack suddenly widened before him.
He slipped into it, found movement in his present form merely
an enactment of will, and drifted through the twists, turns and
bends of the tiny channel
Unnoticed, [the
drow] lined the perimeter of the small glade where a score of
faeries [surface elves] danced and sang.
Transfixed by the
sheer joy of the elves' play, Drizzt hardly noticed the commands
his brother issued then in the silent [hand] code. Several children
danced among the gathering, marked only by the size of their bodies,
and were no freer in spirit than the adults they accompanied.
So innocent they all seemed, so full of life and wistfulness,
and obviously bonded to each other by friendship more profound
than Drizzt had ever known in Menzoberranzan
Then Drizzt's keen
ears heard the soft thrum of a dozen tiny bowstrings. The elven
song carried on a moment longer, until several of the elves dropped
to the earth.
"No!"
Drizzt screamed in protest
The denial sounded just like another
war cry to the drow raiders
One terrified female,
dodging this way and that, came before Drizzt. He dipped the tips
of his weapons to the earth, searching for some way to give a
measure of comfort.
The female then
jerked straight as a sword dove into her back, its tip thrusting
right through her slender form. Drizzt watched, mesmerised and
horrified, as the drow warrior behind her grasped the weapon hilt
in both hands and twisted it savagely. The female elf looked straight
at Drizzt in the last fleeting seconds of her life, her eyes crying
for mercy. Her voice was no more than a sickening gurgle of blood.
His face the exultation
of ecstasy, the drow warrior tore his sword free and sliced it
across, taking the head from the elven female's shoulders.
"Vengeance!"
he cried at Drizzt
Only a moment later,
another elf, this one a young girl, broke free of the massacre
and rushed in Drizzt's direction
He brought the scimitar
down in a mighty sweep, watching Dinin out of the corner of his
eye as it whisked harmlessly past the child. In the same motion,
Drizzt followed with his other hand, catching the girl by the
front of her tunic and pulling her face-down to the ground.
She screamed, unharmed
but terrified, and Drizzt saw Dinin thrust his fist into the air
again and turn away.
Drizzt had to work
quickly; the battle was almost at its gruesome end. He sliced
his scimitars expertly above the huddled child's back, cutting
her clothing, but not so much as scratching her tender skin. Then
he used the blood of the headless corpse to mask the trick, taking
grim satisfaction that the elven mother would be pleased to know
that, in dying, she had saved the life of her daughter
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