“Bivrip!” came the burrow-warden’s cry from the tunnel. Belwar and Clacker rushed out, not surprised in the least by the sudden turn of events. In the drow Academy, Drizzt, like all dark elves, had spent months learning the ways and tricks of the gray dwarves. That training saved him now, for he was the first to strike, lining all seven of his diminutive opponents in the harmless purple flames of faerie fire.
Almost at the same time, three of the duergar faded from view, exercising their innate talents of invisibility. The purple flames remained, though, clearly outlining the disappearing dwarves.
A second rock flew through the air, slamming into Clacker’s chest. The armored monster would have smiled at the pitiful attack if a beak could smile, and Clacker continued his charge straight ahead into the duergar’s midst.
The rock thrower and the dagger wielder fled out of the hook horror’s way, having no weapons that could possibly hurt the armored giant. With other foes readily available, Clacker let them go. They came around the side of the chamber, bearing straight in at Belwar, thinking the svirfneblin the easiest of the targets.
The swipe of a pickaxe abruptly stopped their charge. The unarmed duergar lunged forward, trying to grab the arm before it could launch a backswing. Belwar anticipated the attempt and crossed over with his hammer-hand, slamming the duergar squarely in the face. Sparks flew, bones crumbled, and gray skin burned and splattered. The duergar flew to his back and writhed about frantically, clutching his broken face.
The dagger wielder was not so anxious anymore.
Two invisible duergar came at Drizzt. With the outline of purple flames, Drizzt could see their general movement, and he had prudently marked these two as the sword-wielders. But Drizzt was at a clear disadvantage, for he could not distinguish subtle thrusts and cuts. He backed away, putting distance between himself and his companions.
He sensed an attack and threw out a blocking scimitar, smiling at his luck when he heard the ring of weapons. The gray dwarf came into view for just a moment, to show Drizzt his wicked smile, then faded quickly away.
“How many does ye think ye can block?” the other invisible duergar asked smugly.
“More than you, I suspect,” Drizzt replied, and then it was the drow’s turn to smile. His enchanted globe of absolute darkness descended over all three of the combatants, stealing the duergar advantage.
In the wild rush of the battle, Clacker’s savage hook horror instincts took full control of his actions. The giant did not understand the significance of the empty purple flames that marked the third invisible duergar, and he charged instead at the two remaining gray dwarves, both holding clubs.
Before the hook horror ever got there, a club smashed into his knee, and the invisible duergar chuckled in glee. The other two began to fade from sight, but Clacker now paid them no heed. The invisible club struck again, this time smashing into the hook horror’s thigh.
Possessed by the instincts of a race that had never been concerned with finesse, the hook horror howled and fell forward, burying the purple flames under his massive chest. Clacker hopped and dropped several times, until he was satisfied that the unseen enemy was crushed to death.
But then a flurry of clubbing blows rained down upon the back of the hook horror’s head.
The dagger-wielding duergar was no novice to battle. His attacks came in measured thrusts, forcing Belwar, wielding heavier weapons, to take the initiative. Deep gnomes hated duergar as profoundly as duergar hated deep gnomes, but Belwar was no fool. His pickaxe waved about only to keep his opponent at bay, while his hammer-hand remained cocked and ready.
Thus, the two sparred without gain for several moments, both content to let the other make the first error. When the hook horror cried out in pain, and with Drizzt out of sight, Belwar was forced to act. He stumbled forward, feigning a trip, and lurched ahead with his hammer-hand as his pickaxe dipped low.
The duergar recognized the ploy, but could not ignore the obvious opening in the svirfneblin’s defense. The dagger came in over the pickaxe, diving straight at Belwar’s throat.
The burrow-warden threw himself backward with equal speed and lifted a leg as he went, his boot clipping the duergar’s chin. The gray dwarf kept coming, though, diving down atop the falling deep gnome, his dagger’s point leading the way.
Belwar got his pickaxe up only a split second before the jagged weapon found his throat. The burrow-warden managed to move the duergar’s arm out wide, but the gray dwarf’s considerable weight pressed them together, their faces barely an inch apart.
“Got ye now!” the duergar cried.
“Get this!” Belwar snarled back, and he freed up his hammer-hand enough to launch a short but heavy punch into the duergar’s ribs. The duergar slammed his forehead into Belwar’s face, and Belwar bit him on the nose in response. The two rolled about, spitting and snarling, and using whatever weapons they could find.
By the sound of ringing blades, any observers outside Drizzt’s darkness globe would have sworn that a dozen warriors battled within. The frenzied tempo of swordplay was solely the doing of Drizzt Do’Urden. In such a situation, fighting blindly, the drow reasoned that the best battle method would be to keep all the blades as far away from his body as possible. His scimitars charged out relentlessly and in perfect harmony, pressing the two gray dwarves back on their heels.
Each arm worked its own opponent, keeping the gray dwarves rooted in place squarely in front of Drizzt. If one of his enemies managed to get around to his side, the drow knew, he would be in serious trouble.
Each scimitar swipe brought a ring of metal, and each passing second gave Drizzt more understanding of his opponents’ abilities and attack strategies. Out in the Underdark, Drizzt had fought blindly many times, once even donning a hood against the basilisk he’d met.
Overwhelmed by the sheer speed of the drow’s attacks, the duergar could only work their swords back and forth and hope that a scimitar didn’t slide through.
The blades sang and rang as the two duergar frantically parried and dodged. Then came a sound that Drizzt had hoped for, the sound of a scimitar digging into flesh. A moment later, one sword clanged to the stone and its wounded wielder made the fatal mistake of crying out in pain.
Drizzt’s hunter-self rose to the surface at that moment and focused on that cry, and his scimitar shot straight ahead, smashing into the gray dwarf’s teeth and on through the back of its head.
The hunter turned on the remaining duergar in fury. Around and around his blades spun in swirling circular motions. Around and around, then one shot out in a sudden straightforward thrust, too quickly for a blocking response. It caught the duergar in the shoulder, gashing a deep wound.
“Give! Give!” the gray dwarf cried, not desiring the same fate as its companion. Drizzt heard another sword drop to the floor. “Please, drow elf!”
At the duergar’s words, the drow buried his instinctive urges. “I accept your surrender,” Drizzt replied, and he moved close to his opponent, putting the tip of his scimitar to the gray dwarf’s chest. Together, they walked out of the area darkened by Drizzt’s spell.
Searing agony ripped through Clacker’s head, every blow sending waves of pain. The hook horror gurgled out an animal’s growl and exploded into furious motion, heaving up from the crushed duergar and spinning over at the newest foes.
A duergar club smashed in again, but Clacker was beyond any sensation of pain. A heavy claw bashed through the purple outline, through the invisible duergar’s skull. The gray dwarf came back into view suddenly, the concentration needed to maintain a state of invisibility stolen by death, the greatest thief of all.
The remaining duergar turned to flee, but the enraged hook horror moved faster. Clacker caught the gray dwarf in a claw and hoisted him into the air. Screeching like a frenzied bird, the hook horror hurled the unseen opponent into the wall. The duergar came back into sight, broken and crumbled at the base of the stone wall.