dinin

It had not the strength to penetrate the barrier, though, and it bounced back, nearly landing on Dinin's feet.

Standing before the compound, it seemed to Dinin as if the place were a thousand years removed from that time of glory.

"Kneel! " Vierna commanded, and Dinin, when he regained his composure, fell to his knees, all the while looking blankly at Jarlaxle.

How many times had Dinin levitated up to that balcony, entering the private quarters of the nobles of his house, House Do' Urden?

This last command was a simple spell, certainly not one that should have worked so easily on a seasoned fighter of Dinin' s stature.

The room was alight in a comfortable red glow, allowing Dinin to shift his eyes from the infrared to the normal light spectrum.

Dinin had to be certain that no unfriendly drow eyes marked his passage.

Again, Jarlaxle and Dinin exchanged confused glances . By all their estimates, Vierna's claims-and Vierna herself-sounded insane.

The mercenary wore his ruby-red eye patch over his right eye this day, Dinin noted.

Only clerics or wizards would light the fires, Dinin knew, as necessary pains in their world of scrolls and parchments .

Again, Jarlaxle and Dinin exchanged confused glances.

"Why did you recall me? " Dinin asked bluntly as he took his place beside the desk. "I had infiltrated Vandree fully. "

A wicked smile spread across Dinin's thin lips.

Jarlaxle only shrugged at Dinin' s confused stare.

"Uln' hyrr, " Dinin retorted, the drow word for "liar. "