Heroes 

"It isn't cold."  
	Adaz's cheery mood contrasted painfully with the thoughts on 
which Sutekh's mind was dwelling.  
	"Crisp is a better word.  It will be absolutely beautiful come 
nightfall."  
	The snow was falling in large, sound-muffling flakes.  Even 
the horses' hooves, plowing through a foot of powder on the road, made 
little noise.  
	"First of all, Adaz, even at this altitude, there shouldn't be 
snow for at least another month."  Sutekh's voice had an edge that he 
did not intend to be there.  "Second, it will only take a little wind 
to turn it from crisp to frigid, and this lovely snow to a blinding 
fury.  Third..."  
	Adaz had slowed her horse and fallen behind Sutekh, her eyes 
downcast.  "Idiot," Sutekh thought to himself when he realized how his 
words had sounded.  He turned his horse around and reined in next to 
Adaz.  
	"Adaz, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to snap at you, it's just 
that I have a lot on my mind."  Sutekh reached out a hand and gently 
lifted her chin.  At last she looked into his eyes.  
	"I need your smile," he said quietly.  "Please, forgive me."  
	Adaz smiled, and Sutekh became lost in her eyes.  Still he 
touched her, slowly caressing her cheek, and long she held his gaze in 
silence.  
	"Hoy!  You there!  Hoy!" 
	The call came from up the road and Sutekh wheeled his mount to 
face the challenge.  Adaz rolled her eyes and groaned in disbelief.  
	"Hoy!  Help!" Several small figures were running down the road 
towards them.  
	"Stop right there," Sutekh commanded, immediately beginning a 
spell.  
	"Hold, sir.  We mean you no harm.  In fact, we are in need of 
your help," one of the group said, stepping to the fore.  
	Sutekh, his spell finished, dismounted and walked forward to 
meet the leader.  Once close to them, he could see that they were 
gnomes.  "How can we help you?" 
	"Please, sir; lady," the gnome nodded as Adaz dismounted next 
to Sutekh.  Our village has been attacked and our people driven out.  
We have little food or shelter."  
	"We would be happy to share, but what we have would amount to 
one meal for perhaps two score mouths," Sutekh explained.  "How many 
of you are there?" 
	"Nearly five times that, sir," the leader answered.  "However, 
we have sent word to our cousins to the south.  They should reach us 
with supplies in a few days and we can get by until then.  What we 
need is shelter.  If this crazy weather stirs up another storm we'll 
be frozen."  The gnome hesitated for a moment.  "Sir, we need our 
homes.  Would you...," he trailed off.  
	Sutekh was shocked, but Adaz more so.  "What makes you think 
two can succeed where a hundred have failed?" she demanded.  
	"Lady, this road leads to one place, the smith's tower," he 
explained.  "It is traveled only by supply carts and warriors seeking 
the best arms and armor that gold can buy.  The greatest warriors 
travel alone or with few companions.  We hope that you are such."  
	Sutekh looked to Adaz.  "Well, warrior, shall we at least hear 
their tale?" 
	"Are you sure that we can trust them?" Adaz whispered in his 
ear.  
	Sutekh smiled.  "Yes," he said, wriggling his fingers in mock 
spell-casting.  

"We had heard nothing from the tower in weeks," the elder explained.  
"There were travelers to the tower, but no one traveled the road back 
to Ulek.  Against the will of some, our leaders and shaman went to the 
tower in search of answers.  That was the last we saw of them."  Many 
around the fire bowed their heads.  
	"There are several stories among us, but I believe that the 
tower has been taken by sorcery, and that our leaders, in daring to go 
to the tower, brought the wrath of its new master upon us.  The day 
after our elders went to the tower, winter swept down from the 
mountain.  Hidden in the storm came a great evil, unleashed by the 
tower's new master, no doubt.  It broke open our homes and slew many.  
None of the warriors that stood their ground lived.  Perhaps now that 
the storm has passed, the beast can be slain, but our few remaining 
warriors are needed here, to protect the refugees.  We can risk no 
more."  
	"What is this great evil?" Sutekh asked.  
	"A demon in the form of a huge cat.  It kills by tooth and 
claw," the elder replied.  
	"Merely seeing its face is enough to scatter one's senses," 
another said.  
	"Its roar," a third said.  "Its roar kills."  
	"Don't forget," added yet another, "It can be many places at 
once."  
	"Please!  Please!" the elder cried.  "Enough of this."  Then 
he looked to Sutekh.  
	Sutekh looked to Adaz.  Adaz did not look pleased.  
	"Well," Sutekh said to her, "Considering our respective 
occupations, a little information gathering wouldn't hurt."  

Sutekh had stripped off his winter garb, keeping only the heavy cloak.  
	"Your feet are going to get cold," Adaz pointed out as he 
exchanged his heavy boots for the soft-soled ones he wore in warmer 
weather.  
	"Not as cold as they would in a grave."  
	"I'll have them build you a funeral pyre," Adaz said with a 
smile.  
	Sutekh gave Adaz a viscous look.  "Thanks for the thought."  
	"It's the least I could do."  
	Sutekh dug out his hand-crossbow and strapped it to his thigh.  
He then tied the sheathed Sword of Lyons to his back and instantly 
disappeared.  For the first time since leaving Autumnwell he drew the 
invisible blade, reappearing.  
	The elder smiled and nodded to his fellows.  

"If my feet have to get cold, so do yours," Sutekh whispered as he 
pulled his familiar from its cozy pouch and dropped him into the snow.  
The weasel looked about, dazed, having just been awakened, then looked 
up at Sutekh in such a manner that Adaz had to cover her mouth to 
silence the laughter.  
	Following the elder's directions, they had approached the
village on foot and hid in an outlying building to survey the area. 
Most of the buildings they could see had structural damage, with
either doorways having been forcibly widened or rooftops having been
torn off.
	Sutekh put his sword under the sluggish weasel and flipped it 
forward.  At last getting its bearings, it scampered off across the 
snow.  Coming to a small mound, it stuck its head into the snow and 
started digging.  
	"Does he ever walk anywhere?" Adaz asked.  
	"Not that I've se..."  Sutekh's eyes, closed to make using his 
familiar's senses easier, flew open.  "Whatever killed that gnome made 
very sure he was dead."  
	The weasel emerged from the drift, shook its head to clear the 
snow from its fur, ignored the other mounds scattered about the 
village, and set off in the direction of an odd smell.  
	"Our demon stinks," Sutekh said, wrinkling his noise.  
	Through his familiar, Sutekh determined which building the 
beast was in and Adaz and he approached it from a blind side.  It was 
a large, stone structure with double doors that were in splintered 
ruins; even part of the doorjam and wall were missing.  
	Sutekh did not allow his familiar to venture inside.  He 
sheathed his sword and was preparing for that task himself when Adaz 
tapped him on the back and motioned for him to wait.  She drew a 
scroll case for her pack, opened it, and withdrew a scroll.  After 
browsing for a moment, she began to read.  Fortunately, she could not 
see Sutekh; the expression on his face might have broken her 
concentration.  
	"Oops," she whispered, shaking her head to clear the bizarre
image.  "That didn't quite work."  
	"Would you mind leaving the spell casting to me?" Sutekh 
whispered harshly.  "What were you trying to do?" 
	"See inside."  
	"Why didn't you say so."  Turning to the wall, Sutekh quickly 
rattled off a spell.  "It looks to be a common eating hall.  It's 
almost all one room, with an area partitioned off at the rear.  It is 
quite a mess...  hold it.  It's in the back.  A chair was just thrown 
into the main room.  Can't see what it is, though."  Sutekh drew his 
blade and turned to Adaz.  "I don't suppose you have any means of 
invisibility in that bag of tricks of yours."  
	Adaz smiled, showed him a ringed finger, and disappeared.  
	"Gods," Sutekh thought, sheathing his blade.  "She could have 
at least told me."  
	"I assume you can hear me walk?" he asked.  
	"Of course."  
	Walking as quietly as possible, Sutekh moved toward the broken 
doors.  He carefully stepped through the rubble and moved into the 
building, but he shifted his weight to his cold front foot before 
feeling a splinter.  
	Snap.  
	Silently cursing himself, Sutekh waited for the consequences 
of his mistake.  
	No sound came from the back room.  
	"It's outside...  flying!" Sutekh whispered, his mind filled 
with his familiar's sight.  "There must be a back door."  
	From the doorway they looked out.  The beast was flying around 
the village, flapping its bat-like wings rapidly.  It had the body of 
a huge lion, with thick, black mane; but its head bore a hideous 
mockery of a human face and its tail ended in a ball of long, thin 
spikes.  
	Adaz took a deep breath and leaned against the inside wall
where she could not see the beast.  "I believe that is what they call
a manticore."
	"Does it matter?" Sutekh whispered.  "Adaz, listen carefully.  
I don't know how good its hearing is or even if it can understand us, 
so let me do most of the talking."  He took a deep breath and slowly 
let it out.  "That thing has just destroyed a village.  It's used to 
killing frightened gnomes.  Because of that, I think we can take it.  
It will be over confident, so we should be able to get it to charge 
through this doorway where we can attack from either side as it
passes.  Stab it just back of the ribs and stay out of its way while
it dies.  Agreed?" 
	"Agreed," came the response without hesitation.  
	"String your bow and, when you hear my spell, loose an arrow."  
	Adaz became visible in order to employ her bow.  Hearing 
Sutekh began his spell, she stepped to the doorjam and took aim.  Blue 
streaks flashed from beside her and struck the manticore as it passed.  
The beast screamed in pain and veered from its course, causing Adaz's 
arrow to miss.  
	Casting aside her bow, Adaz drew her small sword and pressed 
her back to the wall, willing her ring to make her invisible again.  
	"Delleb, let it turn to me," Sutekh silently prayed as he drew 
his sword and put his back to the wall the opposite the doorway from 
Adaz.  
	The manticore landed outside the building and sprang through 
the doorway with a roar.  
	Both blades simultaneously entered its body just back of the 
ribs, stabbing deep.  Bellowing in pain, the manticore leaped forward 
and lashed out with its tail, releasing deadly spikes.  
	Sutekh, slow in withdrawing his blade, used the beast's lunge 
to pull himself into a roll and out of the way of the missiles.  
Regaining his feet, he drew his dagger and squared off as the 
manticore, still roaring in pain and rage, turned on him and pounced.  
Sutekh sidestepped and slashed with both weapons.  The manticore's 
attention was on the dagger and its magical light.  The semi-visible, 
blood covered short sword was ignored until it slashed under the 
beast's protective mane and into its shoulder.  The manticore roared 
again, whirling to try and keep up the the drow as he danced over a 
paw-swipe and down the beast's side.  
	Again the manticore pounced.  Sutekh, being of much less mass, 
was thrown aside by his own magical defenses as the beast descended on 
him, yet a massive paw slammed into his shoulder and sent him 
sprawling.  Even as Sutekh scrambled to his feet, dagger and knife in
hand, the manticore stopped its movement.  The beast wavered and then
collapsed onto its side.  A grim smile on his face, Sutekh quickly cut
through the mane and sought out the larger blood vessels in the
beast's neck.  Then he turned to Adaz.
	Adaz was seated near the doorway, her back against the wall 
and her eyes squeezed shut.  Even as Sutekh turned to her she pulled a 
metal spike from her thigh, her eyes opening wide in shock as she 
gasped for air.  
	Sutekh withdrew a bundle of cloth strips from his familiar's 
home and unwound the cloth to reveal a small bottle.  He opened the 
bottle and sampled its contents, then went to Adaz and offered the 
remainder to her.  
	"Finish it," he said.  
	Adaz made a face as she drained the bottle.  "Ugh!  That 
tastes horrible."  
	"It should.  I'm told one of the main ingredients is troll's 
blood.  So how does it feel to be a hero?" 
	"It hurts.  And I don't feel like a hero."  
	"Never the less, when we return to the gnomes, they will greet 
us as their saviors; they will cheer for us and sing songs about us 
and, doubtless, reward us well."  
	"I'll probably get sick to my stomach," Adaz said, making 
another face.  
	"Welcome to the wonderful world of heroes," Sutekh replied 
with a smile.  "Can you stand?" 
	Adaz, realizing that her leg no longer hurt, risked a glance 
at it.  Her wound had closed.  
	"Careful," Sutekh said, offering her his hand.  "There still 
might be some internal damage."  He pulled Adaz to her feet and for a 
moment they stood against each other, looking into one another's eyes.  
	"Were you scared?" Sutekh asked quietly.  
	"When waiting for that thing to come through the door, yes.  
After that, it was like you said; I was too busy."  
	Sutekh smiled and knelt to examine her leg.  "Is there any 
pain?" 
	"It still aches a bit.  The spike was stuck in the bone."  
	Sutekh knelt and wound one of the cloth strips around Adaz's 
thigh.  "The pressure will take your mind off any pain," he explained.  
	"You're very good at that."  
	"Pray that you never get as much practice as I've had."  
	"How about you.  Any wounds?" Adaz asked as Sutekh finished 
tying off the bandage.  
	Sutekh stood and clicked his magical bracers together with a 
smile.  "Not much to speak of."  
	"My, aren't we full of surprises," she smiled.  
	"Yes, 'we' are.  I didn't know you had that ring."  
	"Nobody did, which is why I got out of Greyhawk alive."  
	The pain gone, Adaz walked over to the now dead manticore and 
plucked a spike from its tail.  "A souvenir," she explained.  "I've 
never seen a creature whose body produced metal."  
	After finding and cleaning his sword and retrieving his 
familiar, Sutekh started back towards the gnome encampment.  
	"Wait a minute," Adaz called.  "Let's look around a bit."  
	"Adaz," Sutekh said accusingly.  
	"I just want to look around," she said as she started off 
towards the largest building in the village.  Sutekh sheathed his 
sword and followed.  
	It was obvious that the manticore had tried to gain entry, but 
the doors still stood.  Adaz opened them without difficulty.  
	"A museum," Sutekh pondered.  "What an odd thing to find in a 
village."  
	"Look at this."  Adaz directed his attention to a stand 
bearing a gnome-sized suit of silver mail.  "Mithril."  
	Sutekh nodded and pushed her away from the display.  
	"Well, well, what's this?" Adaz had found a locked, metal 
bound door.  "I've always been intensely curious of places I'm not 
allowed."  She reached for the door, but then hesitated.  "Ah, I don't 
suppose you could check it for magical traps."  
	Sighing, Sutekh cast a spell.  "It has a faint, magical 
tracery centered on the door.  Probably a glyph of some sort."  
	"Oh well," Adaz sighed, "I don't suppose it would be nice to 
steal from them, considering their recent tragedy."  
	"Always the humanitarian," Sutekh said, shaking his head.  

Sutekh was right.  The gnomes cheered the pair's triumphant return.  
After returning to the village, taking care of the dead, and making a 
few quick repairs, the gnomes found a store of unspoiled food and 
prepared a feast.  There was speech making and remembrance of the 
dead, as well as the presentation of reward.  Sutekh was given a 
large, beautifully cut diamond and Adaz was given a necklace of silver 
and lesser gems.  Later a bonfire was built and the gnomes gathered 
about to sing and play a rather odd collection of instruments.  
	"Come on," Adaz said, getting to her feet.  "Let's dance."  
	Sutekh stayed seated.  "No."  
	"Why not?" she demanded.  
	Sutekh looked up at her and shrugged.  "I don't know how," he 
admitted.  
	"You don't know how," she repeated to herself.  "You're a 
hundred years older than me.  How can you not know how?" 
	"You're forgetting that I grew up in the streets of the Vault.  
I never had a formal education."  
	"You had to.  You're a spell caster."  
	"That's different," he said, looking shyly at the ground.  
	Adaz set her hands on her narrow hips.  "How is that 
different?" she demanded.  
	Sutekh shrugged and refused to meet her gaze.  "I stole a 
spell caster's more powerful books and wouldn't give them back until 
he had taught me the easy stuff."  
	Adaz burst out laughing, then pulled Sutekh to his feet.  
"Come on, I'll teach you."  
	Sutekh was a natural.  


						Jeff Stehman