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ppen to the other spearman。 There was something about the look on her face that Ryld recognized； and in response he tossed her the dead man's sword。 She didn't notice the blade ing at her until it was halfway there； but she caught it just the same。
The woman met Ryld's gaze； and the weapons master nodded at the draegloth。
〃Take the dark elf； girl！〃 the man with the greataxe yelled to the woman。
The man with the greataxe had been barking orders all along； but Ryld hadn't paid much attention。 Hearing someone order his death wasn't an entirely alien experience for Ryld； but there was something about the circumstances that frustrated him。 He'd just tossed her a weapon 。。。 so what if he'd taken it out of the severed limb of one of her rades？
The woman hesitated； looked at the sword as if she wasn't sure what to do with it； then looked at Jeggred。 The draegloth stepped into the man with the spear； deftly slipping past the spearhead； and grabbed the logger's head in one of his huge； clawed hands。 With a twist of the draegloth's wrist and a bend of his elbow the human spearman's head came free of his shoulders in a shower of blood。
The woman screamed； and Ryld was taken aback by the sound。 It was soaked with emotion…a sound Ryld hadn't heard often in Menzoberranzan。 He looked at her and she met his gaze。 Tears streamed down her face。 She looked back at the draegloth； who was meeting the advance of the man with the greataxe。
The woman dropped the sword and ran； rushing past Jeggred and the man with the greataxe to stumble out the door。 Ryld heard her footsteps recede into the night。
The weapons master longed to follow her。
Rab Shuoc was born in the Year of the Striking Hawk in the Cormyrean city of Arabel。 He grew up there； the son of a city watchman； and spent his childhood hunting rats with his friends in the back alleys and occasionally following his father on his rounds in the wealthier sections of the city。 It wasn't the slightest bit surprising to anyone who knew him when he joined the army。 Rab was fiercely loyal to the kingdom of his birth and the king he admired more than anyone but his father。
He worked his way up the ranks； slowly； and was a sergeant when the ghazneths and goblins ravaged Cormyr and all but destroyed Arabel。 He was nearly killed in the same battle that resulted in the death of the king； and he watched the city of his birth burned。 His father was killed when part of a building fell on him。 With the king and his father both dead； and no family of his own to tie him down； Rab simply walked away。
He went on to bee alternately a sellsword； a tavern bouncer； an innkeeper； a weaponsmith； then a logger。 He was strong and smart； so he soon became foreman。 His employers paid Rab a considerable sum in gold to gather crews to go deep into some of the most dangerous places in Faerun to find exotic woods。 He quickly built a solid reputation among the lumber mill owners and loggers alike as a fair but tough leader who knew how to get the job done； and Rab always delivered。
During those hard forty…six years of life； Rab Shuoc had missed out on a lot。 There had been women but never a wife and never any children。 Since the war he hadn't even had a home。 He rarely worked with the same men more than one season at a time and had no real friends to speak of。
He wasn't the kind of man who worried about his own happiness or even expected to be happy。 He wanted to live； work； and be left alone。
When he stepped into his mon room and saw some of his crew already dead at the hands of a dark elf and some kind of giant demon monster； he knew that if he wanted to live； he would have to fight harder than he ever had before。 It was with that thought foremost in his mind that he stepped toward the two interlopers and got started with the last thirty seconds of his life。
Raula was smart enough to tun； and Rab let her go。 The dark elf watched her go too； and the demon ignored her。 The huge； gray…furred creature locked its blazing red eyes on Rab and advanced on him。 Rab hefted his greataxe and stepped into the demon's attack。 He was aware of the drow facing him as well。
The drow came in faster than the demon； swinging his enormous greatsword in a wild； chaotic fashion。 Rab was sure he could parry the uncontrolled assault with ease and he held the steel haft of his greataxe in both hands so the greatsword would bounce off it…but it didn't。
The tip of the greatsword wasn't where it was supposed to be。 It didn't seem possible to Rab that someone could move such a huge； heavy weapon so quickly； but that strange dark elf had； and it was Rab who paid the price。 The tip of the sword drew a deep cut across the logger's chest。 Pain flared； and blood poured； and in that half…second of shock； the demon took his axe。
He'd been disarmed before but he'd never had an opponent actually reach out and take the weapon right out of his hand。
Rab was still puzzling over that when something even stranger happened： the dark elf drew his greatsword across the demon's back； cutting it deeply enough that blood sprayed from the wound and the creature roared。 The drow said something in a language Rab didn't even recognize let alone understand。 There didn't seem to be any anger； any emotion at all on the drow's face； but he was definitely trying to kill the demon。
The huge creature spun on the much…smaller dark elf； and Rab backed away。 He only got one step back before the demon reached around and grabbed him by the shirt； taking some skin with it。 The monster lifted Rab； who weighed well over two hundred pounds； right off the floor without any sign of strain。
Rab grabbed at the thing's massive clawed hand； but the demon's skin was like steel coated in coarse fur。 There was nothing Rab could do but wonder at the monster's intentions。 It whirled on the dark elf； who had his sword ready。 The demon still held Rab's greataxe in one hand but almost seemed to have forgotten it。
The demon threw Rab at the dark elf。 The human barked out an incoherent； scared sound that might have been a scream or a shout。 He didn't even know。 It was the sound a man makes when he knows he's got less than a second to live and there's nothing he can do about it。
Rab was impaled on the dark elf's greatsword。 He could feel every inch of the cold steel as it slid through his chest。 Strangely enough； it didn't hurt。
Ryld held the human up and looked past him at the draegloth。 The man died trying to make eye contact with him…Ryld would never understand why humans insisted on doing that。 Ryld tipped his sword down in hopes that the man would slide off but instead had to quickly jerk back to avoid the blade of the human's greataxe； wielded by Jeggred； as it chopped down。
The greataxe hit Splitter and sliced clean through。 Ryld felt his eyes bulge and his blood at once boil and run cold。 Splitter was broken。 His greatsword。 The weapon he'd practically lived for； had developed his skills around for years； was destroyed。
The human's axe must have been enchanted after all。
The man fell away on the remaining length of th