Wasp 

"We've been lucky," Sutekh said.  Adaz noticed that he put his hand to 
his chest, touching the holy symbol beneath his blouse.  "It's unusual 
to travel the length of the Wildcoast without at least encountering 
some wild dogs.  Since slavers decimated the villages, it has not been 
a very hospitable area."  
	"A rather boring place, if you ask me."  
	"Ah, but now we turn west, into Celene.  I doubt you will find 
that boring.  However, your fascination with elves might not be 
satisfied.  It is possible to pass through the less populated areas of 
that country without seeing anyone..."  
	"Not that we won't be seen," Adaz added with an odd smile.  
	"Naturally," Sutekh replied, returning her smile.  

Adaz, lost in the beauty of the forest around her, waved aimlessly at 
the buzzing of a fly.  
	"Sutekh, stop!" she whispered harshly.  "Listen," she 
instructed before he could voice his question.  
	Sutekh listened intently but, hearing nothing out of the 
ordinary, turned to Adaz and shrugged.  
	"There is something ahead of us," she explained ominously.  
"It sounds like a very big insect."  
	"Just one?"  A serious question.  
	"I don't know."  
	She said it calmly enough, but there was something in her 
voice that did not sound right to Sutekh.  Still, "We'll go forward.  
Follow close behind me."  
	The trail they were following opened into a clearing ablaze 
with the sun.  Now Sutekh could hear the buzzing too, but they could 
see nothing.  As they moved around the edge of the clearing, a form 
materialized out of the sun.  An insect it was, wasp-like, but one 
large enough to consider their horses prey.  For a moment longer it 
hovered above the clearing, then, even as Sutekh's fingers and tongue 
wove a spell, it darted toward them.  
	With a final word, Sutekh stabbed a finger towards the giant 
wasp.  Instantly it was engulfed in darkness; a globe of black that 
plummeted onward.  
	"Ride!" Sutekh cried as he drove his willing mount across the 
clearing and down the trail, Adaz following close behind.  

"Slowly dismount and lead your horse by the bit," Sutekh told Adaz in 
a whisper so low he had difficulty hearing it himself, yet he knew she 
could hear him.  
	Two hours after leaving the wasp behind, they had found 
themselves in an area where the trees grew thin and there was no 
underbrush.  It gave the impression of being a garden.  Over head 
several hippogriffs circled, pacing them.  
	Adaz and Sutekh slowly led their mounts along the path.  
Suddenly, one of the beasts above gave a screech.  Banking, it turned 
south and was quickly out of sight.  The others followed.  
	"They answered to a whistle," Adaz explained with relief.  

Adaz sat wrapped in her cloak, watching Sutekh swim.  Their now clean 
clothes were spread before the fire, drying.  With several hours of 
daylight left they had found a stream-fed pool, sheltered in such a 
manner by the huge trees of the area that it reminded Adaz of a 
cathedral in Greyhawk; one she had often visited when in need of 
peace.  Feeling a need for such a place after the day's events, she 
had asked Sutekh if they could camp for the night.  
	Now, as she watched, Sutekh's smooth, even strokes carried him 
across the pool.  He would submerge upon reaching one end only to 
surface already swimming back to the other end.  His slender, elven 
body flowed easily through the water, driven by muscles hardened from 
a century of survival on the edge of life.  His pace was constant.  
Even the turns at the ends of the pool seemed to be part of the same, 
never-ending motion.  
	At last Sutekh came to rest in the water, snapping his head to 
one side to clear the golden hair from his eyes.  The motion broke 
Adaz's trance.  
	Sutekh looked about and spotted his familiar inspecting a hole 
in the bank.  A mischievous smile spread across his face, his red eyes 
glittering.  Without a sound he submerged.  Adaz watched as a ripple 
moved across the surface of the water and stopped near the 
unsuspecting weasel.  After a long wait Sutekh suddenly burst out of
the water, a wave drenching where the weasel had been a moment before.
Sutekh held out his hand to his familiar, which was hiding in the long
grass farther up the bank.  Immediately it broke from cover and
scampered down the bank, up Sutekh's arm, and onto his shoulders.  
Sutekh moved into the pool until his shoulders where just above the 
surface.  Turning slowly around, he let his mind slip into the 
weasel's, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells from a new 
perspective.  Had he not been using his familiar's senses when he 
finally left the pool, he would not have heard the faint giggle.  
	"Yes?" He turned is own eyes on Adaz.  
	"What?" she asked, ever innocent.  
	"You take delight in something and won't share it?  That's 
rather selfish," Sutekh pointed out.  
	"You, a fair-skinned dark elf, stand before me in the heart of 
an elven kingdom, naked except a weasel sitting on your shoulder, and 
you ask me what I find delightful?" she laughed.  
	"Not exactly an every day occurance," Sutekh agreed with a 
smile.  
	"You are a very good swimmer," she told him as he began to 
dress.  
	"One of the few things of use I learned in Greyhawk.  It's 
both relaxing and tiring.  Makes for a good night's sleep."  He paused 
as he toweled his hair with a corner of a blanket.  "You know, I'm the 
only drow I know of that swims.  Not surprising, considering the 
temperature of the Sunless Sea.  But still, that kind'a makes me 
unique."  
	"That you are," Adaz said under her breath.  "If you cut your 
hair short like mine, you wouldn't have that problem," she said, 
indicating the tangle he had managed to get his hair in.  
	"If I had a neck like yours I might want to show it off."  He 
paused a moment, realizing what he had said and puzzled by it.  Then 
he continued working on his tangled hair.  Adaz smiled as much at 
Sutekh's reaction to his own comment as at the comment itself.  
	"Here, let me comb it out for you."  Adaz's clothes were still 
drying and, unlike Sutekh, she was not going to put them on cold and 
damp.  Since it was difficult for her to keep herself covered with her 
cloak and comb his hair at the same time, he politely closed his eyes 
and tried to keep his mind from slipping into his familiar's.  
	"Sutekh?" Adaz said slowly.  
	"Yes?" he replied, mimicking her tone and inflection.  He had 
learned what that tone of voice meant; questions that usually dredged 
up memories and feelings he preferred to leave buried.  He also knew 
that Adaz would persist until her questions were answered.  
	"What is it like to die?" 
	Sutekh was not prepared for that.  He turned and looked into 
her eyes.  After several moments searching for some reason behind the 
question, he turned back and closed his eyes, sighing.  Adaz resumed 
combing his hair.  
	"I imagine that depends the manner of death," he began slowly.  
"We had just freed some slaves from the pits of a dungeon, and I was 
pursuing the elven bitch that ran the place.  I followed her one door 
to far.  It must have been warded by a glyph."  He hesitated.  
"Death-magic shot through my very being and everything just went 
black.  
	"It was six weeks before I woke up and I have no memory of 
that time.  The waking up was worse than the dying.  That I was at 
Autumnwell helped, to be sure."  He hesitated again, thinking back.  
"The first person to walk into the room was a drow.  I inhaled sharply 
>from surprise only to realized that I hadn't been breathing.  
Immediately I checked my heart, but it wasn't beating.  It was too 
much," he said, shaking his head.  "Fortunately, Master Bravos entered 
the room soon after.  He was one point of reference I could trust.  
Because of him I stayed sane, although his words didn't help me any.  
He told me that he had spoken to his god about me.  Me!" 
	Adaz could tell from Sutekh's voice that, ten years after it 
had happened, he still had difficulty believing much of the event he 
was relaying and that he was now narrating more to himself then to 
her.  She stopped combing his hair and seated herself next to him.  
	"Delleb had told him that Ee's destiny was tied up in my own.  
Bernaldo also said that Ee is more dangerous than even that sorcerer 
realizes himself.  Thus my master had the mage Cygnus bring me back.  
The drow, Nilonim, serves Cygnus."  
	Sutekh sighed and visibly tried to relaxed.  "Master Bravos 
told me that I might find life on the Plane of Desolation.  True life.  
Cygnus' spells could only keep me in 'unlife' for a week or so.  
	"The Plane of Desolation.  I hope I never see any of the 
planes of Hell, for if they are worse than that place, they must be 
terrible indeed.  Fortunately, when the spell was cast to send me 
there, Faldwell, an old companion of mine who had managed to get 
himself stuck on the astral plane, got caught in the magic and ended 
up with me.  Delleb's work, I'll warrant, for I would not have 
succeeded alone.  
	"Anyway, it eventually came down to a battle with a drider."  
Sutekh opened his eyes for the first time since his narration had 
begun and turned to Adaz.  "That's kind'a like a centaur, only half 
drow, half spider," he explained.  "It's what the Lolth does to her 
drow when they get more power than they can deal with."  
	Rising, he went to his pack and pulled his quarrel case from 
it.  Returning to Adaz he showed the case to her.  Made for six 
quarrels, it was full.  Four of the quarrels were ordinary, but two 
were dead-black and engraved with runes.  Sutekh pulled one of these 
>from its place and gave it to Adaz.  
	"This case is from that drider.  He had it full of those 
quarrels.  He broke one of them in my heart, I broke two in the hearts 
of Slave Lords and one against a wall while battling what I thought 
was a demon-lord.  As far as I know, they kill what they hit.  They 
certainly slay humanoids well enough, be they alive or undead.  I hope 
to have one remaining when I meet Ee."  
	He returned the quarrel to its place and tossed the case onto 
his pack.  "Now you know why I keep it on my person instead of in the 
saddlebags," he said as he sat down next to Adaz.  
	"That death was just like the other.  It wasn't because the 
quarrel pierced my heart that I died, for I wasn't in need of my heart 
at the time.  The death-magic of the quarrel exploded through me, just 
like before.  The only difference was that when I awoke, I was truly 
alive.  Faldwell had been able to slay the drider and had found a 
rather strange collection of treasure.  One of the items in the hoard 
was a rod with the word 'life' engraved on it.  Faldwell used it to 
resurrect me.
	"Strangest of all," Sutekh said with a laugh that startled
Adaz, "Is that, when I thanked Bernaldo for what he had done, he
thanked me for saving his soul."  Sutekh shook his head in disbelief.
"The curate at the Autumnwell's chapel finally explained that to me.
Master Bravos originally served St. Cuthbert.  He was leaning towards
Delleb's ways when I happened along.  When I returned from my quest
for life, he apparently detected some good within me.  Realizing that
even the most evil of Oerth's races can produce good was what
completed his conversion.  Master Bravos gave up the bigotry of
Cuthbert for the enlightenment of Delleb."  He paused and smiled.
"That's why Caleb and I get along so well.  He's a member of St.
Cuthbert's clergy."
	A puzzled Adaz looked on as Sutekh rubbed the fingers of his 
right hand together, apparently trying to remove something that was 
stuck there.  "I wonder what he saw," Sutekh murmured as he stared 
intently at has busy fingers.  
	"I'm sorry," Adaz said after a time of silence.  
	"For what?" 
	"For opening up old wounds."  
	Sutekh's face cleared and he smiled.  "Don't worry," he said, 
pulling on his blouse.  "I need to straighten them out in my mind 
before they will ever heal."
	Again they were silent for a time.
	"Adaz, what prompted your question?"
	It was Adaz's turn to sigh.  "The monsters we met today.  I'm
not used to such creatures," she said with some hesitation.  "They
scared me.  They seemed so capable of killing."
	Sutekh snatched out his boot knife and thrust it towards
Adaz's throat, stopping an inch short of her fair skin.  She did not
even flinch.  "I have proven time and again that I am capable of
killing.  Why don't you fear me?"
	"Because I know you better than that."  
	"Adaz," Sutekh said with some frustration, unsure of how to 
continue.  "You ruled a thieves' guild.  You are used to dealing with 
people who are quite capable of putting a knife in your back while 
smiling to your face.  The 'monsters' you'll meet out here are not 
that subtle.  When your paths cross, it is usually obvious whether 
they intend to kill you or pass on.  That's one of the reasons I 
prefer it out here."  
	"Then you weren't scared today?" 
	"To be honest, no.  I was too busy to think about being 
scared, which is usually the way of battle.  My heart did not race 
until after we were safe."  
	"Well, mine did."  
	Sutekh thought about it for a while.  "Adaz, did you freeze 
up?" 
	"No, but I just did what you told me."  
	"Oh?  And if I had told you to sit there and watch the wasp 
attack us, would you have?" 
	"Certainly not," she replied with a edge in her voice.  
	"Then my words were only a suggestion to you.  You acted in 
what seemed to be the best way.  As long as you don't freeze up, 
you'll be okay."  
	"But what if I do?" 
	Sutekh smiled and shook his head.  "You are hardly a virgin to 
combat.  Have a little faith in your own skills and trust me that it 
is easier to kill beasts than men.  I've had a lot of experience at 
both."  
	When at last her clothes were dry, Adaz signaled for Sutekh to 
turn around.  He rolled his eyes but complied.  Standing, Adaz 
suddenly whipped the cloak from her shoulders and threw it onto the 
weasel, which gave a startled squeak but failed to get out of the way.  
Adaz noticed that Sutekh flinched as if she had thrown the cloak at 
him.  
	"As I thought," she accused.  
	It was perhaps for the better that Sutekh's magically colored 
skin could not blush.  
	The weasel scrambled from beneath the cloak and raced into the 
coming night.  


						Jeff Stehman