"This was my first trip to Menzoberranzan," the master traveler confessed. "I'd never been there before. The book was just a hoax-bait to rile the righteous demeanor of some drow and make him take me to the great city, to satisfy Lloth's honor."

"There is no Volo Does Menzo?"

"Well, not just yet," the gazetteer replied, "… but soon there will be. Let us finish our drinks, and I will fill you in on my plans."

The two travelers finished their drinks, and then followed them up with two bowls of stew and another mug of grog, each. When they were both feeling reasonably comfortable, Volo paid the bill, and directed Woodehous to accompany him for the rest of the explanation.

"Now we must retrace our steps from that memorable night not too long ago," the traveler instructed. "Observe."

Volo removed the gem of luminescence from its place in the thong around his neck, attached another multi-faceted gem to its base, and then returned it to its resting place in the pocket on the thong.

"Certain trained mages can follow this trail with a naked eye," Volo lectured, immediately reminding Woodehous of Malix's reference to a path of glowing dust, "but I prefer to use this."

Volo focused the gem's luminescence on the path before him. What had once been bare and unblemished rock was now adorned with a pair of glowing footsteps.

"Now, after a good night's rest, I can journey back to the city of the drow, in disguise, of course, complete my research, and-poof!-Volo's Guide to the Underdark becomes a reality, complete with directions there and back again from Skullport. Do you want to join me on this little trip? I assure you it will be much easier than last time."

"No, thank you," Woodehous replied. "I've had my fill of adventure for a lifetime."

"Well," replied the master traveler, "the least I can do is give you a letter of recommendation. If I recall correctly, you were a victim of circumstance back at the Shipmaster's Hall in Waterdeep. I'm sure a letter from me could smooth things over with the powers that be. Restauranting genius such as yours should not go to waste. Though I am sure I've lost some weight these past few weeks, I've never felt less than gastronomically satisfied, and I owe it all to you."

"Thank you, good sir," the pale thin gentleman replied, realizing that what he had sought at their journey's beginning, he had just obtained without even asking for it, perhaps making the whole escapade worthwhile after all.

Think nothing of it, "the gazetteer replied. "Come, let us find ourselves a room for tonight. Tomorrow, I will provide you with your letter, and I will be on my way."

The two travelers fested like boon companions, and slept late the following morning. True to his word, Volo gave Woodehous a letter addressed to the proprietor of the Shipmaster's Hall, before he made his way back down the alley from whence their adventure had started. The former soon-to-be maitre d'/cook/waiter decided to accompany the greatest traveler of all Faerun to the outskirts of Skullport to bid him one last farewell before he recommenced his journey through the Underdark.

With gems in hand and disguise in his pack, Volo set off down the alleyways. Woodehous followed close behind.

Woodehous remembered the narrowing passageway, and the sudden series of sharp right turns, and was equally surprised as Volo when they found themselves facing a dead end.

"I don't understand," the master traveler said. "The footprints just stop here. There is no evidence of a portal, or a secret passageway, or anything-just a blank wall."

Just then, a voice vaguely familiar to Woodehous piped in. "Looking for something?" the voice asked. "Oh, it's you, Pig. Long time no see." The voice belonged to Knytro the dwarf, Woodehous's former patron from Traitor Pick's.

"We're looking for a passageway out of town," Volo replied. "I'm sure there used to be one here."

"Oh, indeed there was," Knytro replied, "up until a few days ago when I filled it in. A quake farther down the line made the whole tunnel unstable, so I closed it down. I dug it, so it's my right to fill it in, and I did. But don't worry, there are plenty of other subterranean roads leading out of town. One is pretty much as good as another."

Woodehous felt sorry for his companion in captivity. True, other tunnel trails existed, but none of them were marked with the glowing dust to lead the way. Volothamp Geddarm was left back at Square One.

"Oh, well," the master traveler replied. "Maybe this volume was just not meant to be. I still have Volo's Guide to the Moonsea to complete, and I'm a little behind on that, so I feel a little guilty about leaving Justin-my publisher-in the lurch after having promised him a surprise best-seller for his next list."

"Oh, well," Woodehous concurred. "There doesn't seem to be much you can do about it. Let's go back to the inn we stayed in last night. Maybe they'll let me borrow the use of their kitchen so I can fix you a conciliatory dinner."

"Can I tag along?" the dwarf requested. I've really missed your slop. For my guineas, there isn't a better cook in the entire Underdark."

"Indeed," replied the master traveler, "that sounds like a cracker of a solution. Who needs the Shipmaster's Hall. Certainly not you. You should return to Waterdeep for a position more befitting your talents. Rip up that letter. I will give you another one in its place, one that will be far more profitable for everyone involved."

"After we eat, of course," Knytro clarified, having inserted himself into the soon-to-be dining group.

"Of course," the master traveler replied. "Of course."

Woodehous was excited by the apparent zeal of the master traveler, and paused just for a moment to reflect on their adventure together. "What do you think will happen to Courun and Haukun?"

"I don't rightly know," the master traveler admitted. "As the sole survivors of an overthrown house, both of them are marked by drow law for extermination. Still, some say Ao does watch out for simpletons, and I have to believe that applies to the drow as well as to surface dwellers. But enough dwelling on the past. Great plans await, for me in Mulmaster, and for you in Waterdeep. But, first, a meal!"

"That's what I've been waiting for," Knytro interjected. "No one makes slop like Pig."

"That's Percy," Volo corrected.

"Whatever," Woodehous added with a chuckle as they all set out for the inn.

The End (Almost).

Justin Tym had every reason to be joyous. Volo's Guide to Shadowdale was outperforming all of the previous books in the series, perhaps helped by an unexpected introduction from the mage of Shadowdale himself, causing more than just the publisher to wonder what his favorite gazetteer had on Elminster, to elicit a favor of such magnitude. Cormyr: A Novel was also selling through at an exceptionally nice rate, despite the efforts of rival publisher Delbert Reah to cause confusion in the marketplace by releasing an inferior volume called Cormyr: A History by Green Grubbwood (an alias if there ever was one), with a cover treatment more than a bit similar to the one on Justin's volume. TWL's sale were at an all-time high, and its position as the top publisher in all of the City of Splendors-if not all of Faerun, for that matter-was safely assured for yet another year.

All was rosy, Justin thought to himself as he looked out over the irregular rooftops that stretched along the labyrinthine corridors of the city, a single floor below his office's window. Still, there was no word from Volo.

"Uh, boss?" said Miss Elissa Silverstein, an exceptionally youthful flaxen blonde who had recently replaced Miss Latour as Tym's right hand. "There is someone here to see you."