Context: Roughly around the same time as Starless Night. Dinin was driderized but didn't die, and Entreri is in Menzoberrazan but doesn't have darkvision.
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Entreri wasn't sure how much time had passed. He'd almost gotten acclimated to the lack of light (almost) and it was too much like those days trapped in the mines with Do'Urden. It was vaguely nostalgic, until he heard clicking legs.
He'd tried not to eat anything it brought for the first few days, but realized that without the strength to run or climb, he'd be in the rift forever. And "forever" seemed like it might be measured in days, and just because career assassins weren't expected to reach middle age didn't mean that Entreri was ready to embrace death.
He had the presence of mind to check the shape of whatever dead thing was dropped on his lap. It hadn't taken the creature long to realize he'd refuse to eat anything that had a humanoid face, so it (he?) brought smaller things, things with tails and carapaces. They were still raw, but Entreri had eaten worse. (Not much worse, though.)
Too many legs and red eyes that glowed in the dark -- he hated spiders. He wasn't sure how he felt about the drow half yet, but he suspected that emotion was also hate.
If there were light, he could have escaped. But if there were light, he also could have seen how many spiders (he'd stolen Do'Urden's diary once, hadn't there been anything about half-drow, half-spider monsters in there?) there were, and he wasn't sure if that was a good trade or not.
It was bad enough hearing them. Jarlaxle had been teaching him the language until he ran away, and mockery was the same in every tongue. The other monsters clearly expected Dinin to eat him. Entreri wasn't sure why he hadn't yet, but preferred not to wait until then.
When the soft glow appeared at the edge of the cavern, the signs of the dark city above being embroidered with light, Entreri didn't stop to ask why. He started climbing.
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branchandroot
Didn't Dinin end up in the festival of lights because Entreri made a break for it?
Date: 2018-02-13 10:46 am (UTC)-
Entreri wasn't sure how much time had passed. He'd almost gotten acclimated to the lack of light (almost) and it was too much like those days trapped in the mines with Do'Urden. It was vaguely nostalgic, until he heard clicking legs.
He'd tried not to eat anything it brought for the first few days, but realized that without the strength to run or climb, he'd be in the rift forever. And "forever" seemed like it might be measured in days, and just because career assassins weren't expected to reach middle age didn't mean that Entreri was ready to embrace death.
He had the presence of mind to check the shape of whatever dead thing was dropped on his lap. It hadn't taken the creature long to realize he'd refuse to eat anything that had a humanoid face, so it (he?) brought smaller things, things with tails and carapaces. They were still raw, but Entreri had eaten worse. (Not much worse, though.)
Too many legs and red eyes that glowed in the dark -- he hated spiders. He wasn't sure how he felt about the drow half yet, but he suspected that emotion was also hate.
If there were light, he could have escaped. But if there were light, he also could have seen how many spiders (he'd stolen Do'Urden's diary once, hadn't there been anything about half-drow, half-spider monsters in there?) there were, and he wasn't sure if that was a good trade or not.
It was bad enough hearing them. Jarlaxle had been teaching him the language until he ran away, and mockery was the same in every tongue. The other monsters clearly expected Dinin to eat him. Entreri wasn't sure why he hadn't yet, but preferred not to wait until then.
When the soft glow appeared at the edge of the cavern, the signs of the dark city above being embroidered with light, Entreri didn't stop to ask why. He started climbing.