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ood pumping out of his stump。 He looked at Ryld； made eye contact with him for the space of a heartbeat。 The human seemed to be waiting for Ryld to say something； to explain why the drow had taken his arm。 Humans were an odd lot。
Ryld shrugged。 The man opened his mouth to speak then fell over dead。
The female human jabbed at Jeggred； and the draegloth grabbed the spear。 He snapped it like a twig； and the woman backstepped away； her hands up in front of her face in a feeble attempt to fend off the half…demon。
Ryld suppressed the urge to laugh。 Instead； he bent quickly and ripped the dead human's hand off the sword。 He had to break a few of the man's fingers to get the weapon free； but it certainly didn't matter to the swordsman anymore。
The other spearman went for Jeggred with renewed fury； his hopelessly warped spear jabbing again and again at the draegloth； who danced out of its way； toying with the man。 The woman had her hands on her mouth； apparently concerned with what might happen 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