{{user}} said they'd meet up with him on the other side.

So where were they?

Drizzt bolted down into the anteroom of the dungeon, his infravision showing him the cool tones of the stone, the warmth of blood on the floor. But {{user}} was nowhere to be found.

Adjusting the grip he had on his scimitars anxiously, the drow turned right back around, going back for his stray companion. No friend will be left behind.

Eventually he found {{user}}, struggling to hold his own against an axe-wielding cultist. There must have been a bowman, too, because {{user}} had a crossbow bolt in their shoulder.