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Volo stood in awe of the exotic beauty of the place. Though he had traversed the entire world of Toril, he had never looked upon a city to compare with this one. True, he had never been to Netheril or Cormanthyr, whose beauty was the stuff of legends, but both of those cities were long dead before he had been born. Menzoberranzan was still very much alive and in its glory, even if that glory was pervasively evil.

The four travelers lost track of how long they had been standing on the ledge, and probably would have continued to stare off in awe had they not been interrupted by two representatives of the Dark Dominion, who prided themselves on knowing how to deal with unwanted interlopers.

"What are you doing here?" the senior patrolman demanded in clipped Drowish, which Volo was barely able to understand. "What are you doing with these two surface dwellers?"

"They are our prisoners," Courun and Haukun replied in proud unison. "And we have come to turn them over to the matron mother."

Pointing at Volo, Courun continued his spiel. "This one here," he stated with pride, "is a blemish to the honor of our beloved Lloth. He has dared to violate her domain and would have made it the object of mockery for all the surface dwellers had we not stopped him."

The two patrolmen looked at each other and exchanged signals in the silent language of the drow. Neither was amused, nor did they know what to do with the party at hand. Finally, the senior one returned his attention to Courun and Haukun.

"Of what house do you belong?" the patrolman demanded.

"House Salato," the two proud drow warriors replied, once again in unison.

The guards laughed, and Woodehous distinctly heard Volo murmur, "Uh, oh," under his breath.

"That house hasn't been around in over a century," the senior patrolman advised. "It was wiped out after an unsuccessful bid for power. You'd better come along with us."

A look of panic raced across the two drow warriors' faces.

"Salato… gone?" they cried. In unison, they screamed, and then took off in opposite directions.

Woodehous felt Volo's suddenly unbound hand grasp his tightly.

"We'll let the jade spiders track them down," the older patrolman decided. "Let's bring in these two surface dweller prisoners and take any credit that is due for their capture for ourselves."

"But where did they go?" the other patrolman inquired, for the two prisoners were no longer there, as if they had both just vanished into thin air.

Back to the Double G

"Pig, where have you been?"

Woodehous immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Wurlitzer, the orcish bartender.

"What are you doing here?" Woodehous asked in amazement.

"Working," the ore replied, "just like you used to do before you were fired from Traitor Pick's for not showing up for work after your dinner break."

The former maitre d'/waiter/cook quickly looked around, and to his astonishment found himself back in the Gentleman's Groggery in Skullport, his companion, the legendary Volothamp Geddarm, by his side.

"How…?" Woodehous tried to sputter out a question.

"… long have you been away?" the ore completed. "A while. Long enough for Traitor Pick's to get a new cook. He's not bad either, but I'm sure everyone will agree that he's no Pig Woodehous."

"No… I…" Woodehous continued to sputter, not fully understanding what must have happened.

"Why don't you bring us two mugs of your finest, my good fellow," Volo interrupted.

"Of course, good sir," Wurlitzer replied. Remembering the guinea tip that Volo had left during his last visit to the Double G, he quickly set off to fetch the requested refreshments.

"What happened?" Woodehous demanded, relieved to be back in civilization, but confused, nonetheless.

"We're back in Skullport," the master traveler replied matter-of-factly.

"I know that," Woodehous said, "… but how?"

"We teleported," Volo explained. "I picked up a few tricks on my last trip around Toril, and one of them involved the teleporting properties of necromancer gems."

"Necromancer gems?"

"Yes, thank you," the master traveler replied, interrupting his explanation to acknowledge Wurlitzer's drink service. "Necromancer gems are wonderful travelers' aids. Large ones act as temporary portals, such as the one I left here when our journey began, and the one I carried with me. Smaller ones, on the other hand, can be ground into a dust that will leave a luminescent trail that is only visible to the eye of a trained mage."

"That's why we had to take our boots off before entering the city," Woodehous observed.:

"Of course," Volo concurred. "After all, it would have been absurd to expect all drow to be as dense as Courun and Haukun."

"But why did you want to leave a trail?"

"So I could find my way there and back again."

"But what about your first time? The one you wrote your book about… the book that got us into this mess?"

"This was my first trip to Menzoberranzan," the master traveler confessed. "I'd never been there before. The book was just a hoax-bait to rile the righteous demeanor of some drow and make him take me to the great city, to satisfy Lloth's honor."

"There is no Volo Does Menzo?"

"Well, not just yet," the gazetteer replied, "… but soon there will be. Let us finish our drinks, and I will fill you in on my plans."

The two travelers finished their drinks, and then followed them up with two bowls of stew and another mug of grog, each. When they were both feeling reasonably comfortable, Volo paid the bill, and directed Woodehous to accompany him for the rest of the explanation.

"Now we must retrace our steps from that memorable night not too long ago," the traveler instructed. "Observe."

Volo removed the gem of luminescence from its place in the thong around his neck, attached another multi-faceted gem to its base, and then returned it to its resting place in the pocket on the thong.

"Certain trained mages can follow this trail with a naked eye," Volo lectured, immediately reminding Woodehous of Malix's reference to a path of glowing dust, "but I prefer to use this."

Volo focused the gem's luminescence on the path before him. What had once been bare and unblemished rock was now adorned with a pair of glowing footsteps.

"Now, after a good night's rest, I can journey back to the city of the drow, in disguise, of course, complete my research, and-poof!-Volo's Guide to the Underdark becomes a reality, complete with directions there and back again from Skullport. Do you want to join me on this little trip? I assure you it will be much easier than last time."

"No, thank you," Woodehous replied. "I've had my fill of adventure for a lifetime."

"Well," replied the master traveler, "the least I can do is give you a letter of recommendation. If I recall correctly, you were a victim of circumstance back at the Shipmaster's Hall in Waterdeep. I'm sure a letter from me could smooth things over with the powers that be. Restauranting genius such as yours should not go to waste. Though I am sure I've lost some weight these past few weeks, I've never felt less than gastronomically satisfied, and I owe it all to you."

"Thank you, good sir," the pale thin gentleman replied, realizing that what he had sought at their journey's beginning, he had just obtained without even asking for it, perhaps making the whole escapade worthwhile after all.