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literally blasted from its lungs. Wulfgar reversed his swing quickly and
launched Aegis-fang in the opposite direction. The lead giant spun about just in
time to catch it in the face.
Without hesitation, Wulfgar pounced on the closest giant he had felled,
wrapping his powerful arms around the monster's massive neck. The giant
recovered quickly and put the barbarian in a bear hug, and though it was still
sitting, it had little trouble lifting its smaller foe completely off the
ground. But the years swinging a hammer and chopping stone in the dwarven mines
had imbued the barbarian with the strength of iron. He tightened his grasp on
the giant and slowly rotated his knotted arms. With a loud snap, the verbeeg's
head lolled to the side.
The giant that Drizzt had blinded flailed about wildly with its huge club.
The drow kept in constant motion, dancing around to each flank as the
opportunity allowed, driving home thrust after thrust into the helpless monster.
Drizzt aimed for any vital area he could safely reach, hoping to efficiently
finish off his opponent.
Aegis-fang now securely back in his hands, Wulfgar walked over to the verbeeg
he had struck in the face to make sure that it was dead. He kept an eye
cautiously focused down the trail for any sign of the returning Guenhwyvar.
Having seen the powerful cat at work, he had no desire to engage with it
personally.
When the last giant lay dead, Drizzt moved down the path to join his friend.
"You have not yet come to understand your own prowess in battle!" he laughed,
slapping the big man on the back. "Six giants are not beyond our ability!"
"Now do we go to find Bruenor?" Wulfgar asked, though he saw the fire still
flickering dangerously in the drow's lavender eyes. He realized that they
weren't leaving yet.
"No need," Drizzt replied. "I am confident that the dwarves have their
situation well in hand.
"But we do have a problem," he continued. "We were able to kill the first
group of giants and still retain the element of surprise. Very soon, though,
with six more missing, the lair will become alert to any hint of danger."
"The dwarves should return in the morning," said Wulfgar. " We can attack the
lair before midday."
"Too late," Drizzt said, pretending disappointment. "I fear that you and I
may have to strike at them tonight, without delay."
Wulfgar wasn't surprised; he didn't even argue. He feared that he and the
drow were taking on too much, that the drow's plan was too outrageous, but he
was starting to accept one indisputable fact: He would follow Drizzt into any
adventure, no matter how improbable their chances of surviving.
And he was beginning to admit to himself that he enjoyed gambling alongside
the dark elf.
18
Biggrin's House
Drizzt and Wulfgar were pleasantly surprised when they found the back
entrance to the verbeeg lair. It sat high up on the steep incline on the western
side of the rocky outcropping. Piles of garbage and bones lay strewn about the
ground at the bottom of the rocks, and a thin but steady stream of smoke wafted
out of the open cave, scented with the flavors of roasting mutton.
The two companions crouched in the brush below the entrance for a short
