'Let the damned drow come!' All about me I saw excitement, in the dwarves, in Catti-brie, even in Regis, the halfling known more for preparing lunch and nap than for war. I felt it, too. That tingling anticipation, that camaraderie that had me and all the others patting each other on the back, offering praises for the simplest of additions to the common defense, and raising our voices together in cheer whenever good news was announced. What was it? It was more than shared fear, more than giving thanks for what we had while realizing that it might soon be stolen away. I didn't understand it then, in that time of frenzy, in that euphoria of frantic preparations. Now, looking back, it is an easy thing to recognize. It was hope. Drow march on Mithral Hall and Drizzt must once again join with dwarves, humans, and even a halfling, to combat his own family and their evil dark elf mistresses. The subterranean halls of the dwarf citadel wring with fierce battle, and a hero's heart fills with loyalty and remorse, as the Legend of Drizzt continues. Millions of readers have already discovered the magic of R.A. Salvatore