Just some cool Salvatore writing to read...

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(because I want to practice typing for shcool)
Ra. Salvatore
Book one: The Crystal Shard
Book one:Ten Towns
Chapter one: The Stooge
When the wizards' caravan for the Hosttower of the ARcane saw the snow-capped peak of Kelvin's Cairn rising from the flat horizon, they wer more thatn a little relieved. The hard journey from Luskan to the remote frontier settlement known as Ten-Towns had taken them more than three weeks.
The first week hadn't been too difficult. The troop held close to the Sword Coast, and though they were travelingalong the northernmost reaches of the Realms, the summer breezes blowing in off the Trackless Sea were comfortable enough. But when they rounded the westernmost spurs of the Spine of the World, the mountain range that many considered the norhtern boundary of civilization, and turned into Icewind Dale, the wizards quickly understood why they had been advised against making this journey. Icewind Dale, a thousand square miles of barren, broken tundra, had been described to them as one of the most unwelcoming lands in all the Realms, and within a singleday of traveling on the northern side of the Sine of the World, Eldeluc, Dendybar the Mottled, and the other wizards from Luskan considered the reputation well-earned. Bordered by impassable mountains on the south, and expanding glacier on the north and east, Icewind Dale was attainable only though the pass between the Spine of the World and the coast, a trail rarely used by any but the most hardy of merchants. For the rest of their lives, two memories would ring clear in the wizards' minds whenever they thought about this trip, two facts of life on Icewind Dale that travelers here never forgot. The first was the endless moaning of the wind, as though the land itself was continuously groaning in torment. And the second was the emptiness of the dale, , mile after mile of gray and brown horizon lines. The caravan's destination marked the only varying features in all the dale-ten smalltowns positioned around the three lakes of the region, under the shadow of the only mountain Kelvin's Cairn. Like everyone else who came to this harsh land, the wizards sought TenpTown, scrimshaw, the fine ivory carvings made from the headbones of the knucklehead trout which swam in the waters of the lakes. Some of the wizards, though, had even more devious gains in mind.
*****

The man marvelled at how easily the slender dagger slipped through the folds in the oder man's robe and then cut deeper into the wrinkled flesh. Morkai the Red turned on his apprentive, his eyes locked into a widened, amazed set at the betrayal by the man he had raised as his own son for a quarter of a century. Akar Kessel let go of the dagger and backed away from his master, horrified that the mortally wounded man was still standing. He ran out of distance for his retreat, stumbling into the rear wall of the small vabin the wizards of Luskan had been given as a temporary quarters by the host city of Easthaven. Kessel trembled visibly, pondering the grizzly consequences he would face in ligh of the growing possibility that the magical expertise of the old mage had found a way to defeat even death itself. What terrible fate would his mighty mentor impose upon him for his betrayal? What magical torments could a true and powerful wizard such as Morkai conjure that would outdo the most agonizing of the tortures common throughout the land? The old man held his gaze firmly on Akar Kessel, even as the last ligh began to fade from his dying eyes. He didn't ask why, he didn't even outwardly question Kessel about the possible motives. The gain of power was involved somwewhere, he knw-that was always the case in such betrayals. What confused him was the instument, not the motive. Kessel? How could Kessel, the bumbling apprentive whose stuttering lips could barely call out the simples of cantrips, possible hope to profit from the death of the only mad who had ever shown him more that basix, polite consideration? Morkai the Red fell dead. It was one of the few questions he had never found the answer to. Kessel remained against the wall, needing its tangible support, and continued to shake for long minutes. Gradually, the confidence that had put him in this dangerous position began to grow again within him. He was the boss now-Eldeluc, Dendybar the Mottled, and the other wizardswho had made the trip had said so. With his master gone, he, Akar Kessel, would be rightfully awarded his own meditation chamber and alchemy lab in the Hosttower of the Arcane in Luskan. Eldeluc, Dendybar the Mottled, and the others had said so.
*****
(Well, that's all for today, I guess I should probably get some kind of permission to write like this before I continue, this took me about half an hour, someone tell please tell me if you know how I can get permission, or if I even need it.)

 

If I were you I would skip to a different book each day. I think your allowed to copy small amount of books

 

Blub I'm A Chicken! I like to typ to

 

Yes, perhaps your right I shouldn't be doing this but I was... bored.

 

I love Salvatore's works. Especially Drizzt.

 

Run Galaxyryder! RUN! I'll keep you from the Drizzt bashers for a little while (sorry, couldn't resist )