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Hero

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If there ever was a sharp awakening to the fact that your life had changed against your will, permanently and irreversibly, it was the one Shandra Jerro experienced in the last months of her short life. First, her barn and livelihood had been burned to the ground. Then, her house had followed, because of some pursuit of things that were beyond her – strange people from different planes, silver things and, above all, the main link in the form of an elven witch and her band of companions.

Shandra hadn't counted with the possibility that something could be more stressful than getting kidnapped by a bunch of githyanki sword stalkers that wanted to tear her brain into jelly for information it didn't contain, but she had to admit that the journey back to Neverwinter was slowly beginning to get close to that. It wasn't that she felt uncomfortable – not more than natural, of course – but because she wasn't able to make too much sense of things just yet.

She kept away from the others most of the time, even during the day when they traveled on foot. The journey would take three to four days, assuming they didn't run all the time. that they had managed to find and rescue her in two days was a wonder, especially considering the fact that there were others in the group now as well, not only those she had become unwillingly acquainted with during the two times they had visited her farm.

As they hadn't accounted much for supplies for the journey – let alone for the return journey – they had to stop for hours at a time at a particular save spot. Those were awkward hours during which Shandra would simply stare into the fire. She didn't feel entirely at ease around the rest of the group, though she didn't let it show too much – especially when Neliel was gone. Shandra wouldn't have even guessed that the elf was a student of the arcane if she hadn't seen her send a storm of missiles from her fingertips towards Zeearie the moment her portal had collapsed.

It was surprising because when hearing tales about mages, Shandra had always pictured them to be somewhat like Qara – dressed in fine clothes, a condescending smile on their faces, staying out of the battle until the grand finale. If she was to judge by first impressions, she would likely had labeled the elf a ranger, though her leather armor was cleaner than Bishop's and mercifully free of the smell – of what, Shandra didn't dare imagine.

On their way out of the githyanki lair, Nell had also picked up a bow and a set of arrows, to help hunt for some food on the journey. It turned out that she was able to use the weapon effortlessly, as all elves seemed to, even though she always wielded a sword in battle. And so, during the breaks in their journey, she, Elanee and Bishop would take off into the wild, though always in opposite directions – which had almost wiped the leer off Bishop's face when Nell said that she would go hunting as well. and Elanee, who knew the wilds well, offered to gather herbs, at least, to go with the meat, because she was still as opposed as ever to killing animals, though she grudgingly accepted it as a necessity.

Shandra felt like a burden at times; like luggage that was being recovered.

"Shandra, why the long face?" Looking up from the ground, she saw the familiar face of Grobnar about ten inches from her own, studying her with curiosity. But it was Grobnar; nothing to worry about. Besides the shock, of course. "I know! It's too gloomy here! I'll sing you a song!" And without waiting for permission, he struck up his lute and began playing that annoying song about that herb that gave people the runs – she could never quite remember its name.

"I think my ears are bleeding." Qara commented in the middle of the chorus, her nose stuck high in the air, as always, and she demonstrated her displeasure by standing up away from the fire and dusting her robe in an annoyed manner. Then, as Grobnar didn't get the message and she had long since judged him too insane to take her threats of incineration seriously, she stalked away from the fire and went to light her own, which clearly turned into a bonfire a moment later; she had managed to burn down an entire bush. Fortunately, they were close to a stream of water and she and Neeshka had skill in putting out fires swiftly by now.

"Geez, princess, if you like flames that much, set yourself on fire and spare us the trouble of doing this every time." the tiefling huffed as she returned to the fireplace.

The eyes of sorceress narrowed in scorn. "I'll have to practice on you first, tail-for-brains. I wouldn't want to waste my skills."

But the longer she studied their interactions, the more Shandra was convinced that, clothing aside, violent displays of power aside, Nell was more of a mage than Qara, or at least fit the more conventional image of a mage that the masses were familiar with.

Elanee always returned last from their searches for food, obviously enamored with the nature around them, by which time whatever the two others might have brought was roasting over the fire. Then, Shandra would retire to her bedroll, recovering from the terrible kidnapping – actually, it was Nell's bedroll, which the elf had been gracious enough to offer her before Shandra could allow herself to be angered by Bishop's more lewd suggestions concerning that problem.

When she had expressed worry that Nell wouldn't have where to sleep, she had received laughter in response; genuine, merry, the first sound of merriment Shandra had heard from anyone in quite a long time. And she wasn't the only one. It was most ironic that Neliel seemed to be completely ignorant of the two pairs of eyes watching her with greater intensity than the others, and perhaps a bit longer. To Shandra, it felt painfully obvious, especially since she was standing close to the elf and felt almost as if the two men were staring at her.

It was like standing naked in a storm, but Nell paid it no heed. That was admirable, in Shandra's books, because if she was the prime target of the day for the not-so-vague-or-subtle snide comments courtesy of apparently everyone's favorite ranger, then the sun elf was a close second. Moreover, there was an almost unnoticeable difference between the way he spoke to Neliel, though the content was not remarkable or unpredictable. Shandra was certain that even he himself didn't notice the hint of seriousness in his own baiting.

And then there was the paladin, who said hardly anything, but wasn't as apt at concealing emotions.

If it didn't feel like being crushed between two boulders even to a mere spectator, Shandra would have likely found it a bit funny, but worthy of pity. But then again, it wasn't, because Nell hardly seemed interested in either of them beyond trading jabs. In fact, the only thing she seemed to love was magic, and whenever Shandra would wake during the long hours of the night, she would see a tiny light in a tree high above and she could just about make out Neliel, her right hand gently gripping a book, a drastically toned down fireball hovering in her left palm, her face gentler than when speaking to a living person.

And during the journey, if she wasn't ahead of the whole group, parrying Bishop's verbal jabs, she was chattering away with Elanee, of all people. Shandra attributed it only to the fact that the druidess was also an elf and so gave Nell the opportunity to use her native tongue. Otherwise, there were very few similarities between the two elven women, possibly only that Nell liked nature (though she said herself that she preferred to have a roof over her head any day).

"Keep up, lass." Khelgar nudged her in the back when she zoned out during one of their treks. They had passed Ember by, where the bodies of dead githyanki still remained and would soon be back in Neverwinter. Still Shandra couldn't answer a simple question she posed to herself.

Why did they all follow Nell? With her, the answer was clear; as for the others, it was even clearer. Moths were always drawn to a flame, even against their will, even if they denied it. And the mage was a bright beam of light, even in her moments of gloomy darkness. So perhaps staying wasn't actually a bad idea.

Neverwinter was an overwhelming sight to someone who had lived on the borders of a small village for most of her life and Shandra was no exception. It was large, dirty and filled with walls, but it was somehow glorious, even though it seemed to be a ruin, even in spirit, in places. It was somehow heart-warming to enter the Sunken Flagon, though she wasn't a regular at the inn in Highcliff. Every farmer had need for a drink once in a while during the crisis back there with the lizardmen.

Finally, part of the mystery of the githyanki pursuit had been revealed, though Duncan – Nelie's uncle, though they didn't resemble each other at all – only explained in further detail what they had heard from their dying enemy, the gith leader.

Afterwards, as all heroes once their mission was accomplished, the group sat down at the tables, drinking, talking, or, in Neliel´s case, simply staring into space. Then, the elf stood up from her seat – which caused all eyes to turn back to her – and announced that she was going to retire to her room, even though it was almost dawn outside.

"Duncan, could you please get me at least a bucket of water into my room? I'd like to wash a bit:" After their journey, it was understandable, and particularly Shandra felt that she understood why the elf had not even stopped to consider the possibility of bathing during their pursuit. When she looked at her old clothes, she realized that they, too, were a bit torn and seemed a lot more worn than they had been. They were certainly dirtier than before.

"Sure thing, Nell. If your clothes need washing just dump them into the basket in your room and I'll get them fixed for you."

Nell shook her blonde head. "No, I think I need to have a break from armor. And I might need a new set anyway." Shandra wasn't the only one to size the she-elf up at that moment and she realized just then that Nell's armor really was looking more ragged in places, though this obviously wasn't the first journey it had been through. But for a seasoned traveler – which was what Shandra considered her – Nell looked somewhat more tired than before.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly, receiving a headshake and a surprised smile in response.

"That you, of all people, would ask me that…" Shandra noticed well enough that this was commonly known as avoiding answering the question. Somewhere beyond her shoulder, she was aware that someone was watching Nell with concern – she assumed that it was Casavir and it turned out to be correct. "I'll leave you here in Duncan's care for now. I'd like to examine that old scar. Properly, for the first time."

It meant something to Nell, clearly, the scar, the shard, the fact that her own kin had kept that truth from her – even though with the best of intentions – but, most of all, there was that scholarly fire in her eyes. She wanted to know what the thing in her wound was.

"I'll gladly help you examine your chest, Neliel." Shandra almost jumped, because she hadn't noticed Bishop creep towards them, smell or not. Strangely, he almost always addressed Nell using her full name instead of the abbreviation all the others – save for Grobnar, who called her Lady Neliel – used. "And anything else that's in question. Very properly." He emphasized, flashing her a leer that made Shandra sick (and it wasn't even directed at her).

But Nell, strangely, seemed to be unfazed by the general lewdness of the suggestion and interceded before Casavir could jump in to defend her honor; meaning, very quickly. "It wouldn't do me any good, because you wouldn't come to any useful conclusion, if all you can do is examine." Perhaps it was something Qara might be accused of dishing out, but Nell did it without the venom. Shandra could only marvel at her control over her own temper.

"I can do a lot more when someone owes me something." Bishop noted, and Shandra had the mental image of a growling wolf attempting to corner a fox. "You know how prices never seem to be stable… if you don't take the cheap offer…"

"You'll get exactly what you deserve, Bishop. I remember what I promised."

The moment Nell disappeared, it seemed that Duncan was unable to decide whether to go warn his niece about baiting the ranger or threaten the ranger to leave her alone, so he left it at that. Shandra decided to retire as well, because now that the elf was gone, from the brief glance she received, it was obvious that she had been moved to prime target status. And she hadn't had a good night's sleep in days.

In the morning, she couldn't understand how she could have thought Neliel to be anything but a wizard, when she saw the elf eating breakfast in a dark blue robe, her long straight hair (now free of the dirt and tangles) tied into a simple braid that fell down her back, a golden circlet around her head, giving her the appearance of a princess in a crown. Later on, Grobnar explained to her that usually, Red Wizards of Thay wore such circlets (which unnerved her a bit) but that she need not worry.

"Lady Neliel isn't an evil wizard, Shandra." the gnome said, playing a short melody on his lute.

"How can you be so certain?" Shandra asked, despite believing him.

"Well," Grobnar hopped onto a chair near her cheerfully. "if she was evil, she would have made good on all those threats to kill us. I mean, she threatens to kill Qara at least thrice an hour. Sometimes, she threatens to kill Neeshka if more thugs chasing her appear. At times, she mutters that she ought to kill me when I accidentally ruin our stealth. And Duncan has asked her several times to kill Khelgar, I think. Not to mention that she always tenses so whenever she gets ready to speak with Sir Bishop or Sir Casavir. My, she must have a lot of suppressed tension in her."

Shandra idly wondered exactly why she had asked the question, but at that point, a knight with sand-colored hair in a blue uniform with the Neverwinter insignia appeared… and things went from bad to worse from that moment on.

An hour or so later, she was witnessing the swiftest conversation in Elvish she was ever to hear. At first, Elanee would translate bits and pieces to the others, but then gave up on it, because Neliel and Sand, another wizard that had been given some sort of ultimatum to help them – and Shandra worked out from his uneasy admission of this and the knight's, Nevalle's, words that this had been arranged by the higher circles in the Neverwinter hierarchy – were talking so quickly, as if they wanted to share all the knowledge they possessed in one conversation.

They were talking about the magic that might have been used to arrange this farce of an accusation, Elanee summed it up later, and even as Nell asked all others to prepare for an unpleasant trip to Ember, they went to dig through books.

A week later, their investigations in the wilds near Luskan finished, Shandra was the first and only one to leave the Sunken Flagon, where the atmosphere was more than heavy, for the tiny shop almost in front of it, where Neliel and Sand were holed up for several hours each day, going though the evidence. Again, they were speaking in Elvish, but stopped as soon as Shandra knocked and, to her utter shock, both were smiling – in Sand's case, that meant a light smirk, just on the edge of visibility – as if they had already won the trial and weren't facing the gallows.

"Come in, Shandra; we're almost done with our preparations." Neliel encouraged her while Sand scribbled something on a piece of parchment in his spidery scrawl. From the very first day, it had been clear that Nell liked Sand; not in a romantic way, perhaps, but liked him for his outlook on life and shared interests with him, making her able to relate to his position in a way that she wasn't able to relate to Elanee, the other elf in their group.

Shandra, on the other hand, was dully aware of the fact that the large city had made the moon elf a tad high-nosed when faced with people who lived on the countryside, as he had demonstrated in Port Llast. She didn't dislike him – really, compared to the other men in their group, he was at least polite, even if you could never tell just how sarcastic those polite words were – but she also couldn't imagine that the two of them would ever be overly close friends.

"So, have you two figured a way to get you out of this predicament yet?" Shandra asked, leaning against the wall. She didn't want to mess up the stacks of books, papers or alchemical ingredients lying around; goodness knew that that would earn her a few very snide remarks. More than a few.

"Well, we have enough evidence to make it a solid case, so I suppose one could say that we have crossed the line of hopelessness." Sand commented wryly from his stack of notes. "However, pointing a finger at Luskan and saying that they were the ones that told on us – truly or falsely – "

"Falsely." Nell muttered resolutely.

"-could be viewed as war-mongering, which is a perfect net for Torio to capture us in." Sand concluded, glancing at the sun elf with mild amusement. "There are enough accusations to be dealt with without that."

"Yeah, but… you can do it, right?" Shandra asked hopefully, earning herself two deadpan expressions from the elves. "I mean, you're innocent." She said, turning to Nell.

"Dear Shandra, the truth of the matter is that the actual truth isn't worth a half-copper in this case." Sand answered flatly when Neliel remained silent. "Who killed who is not the issue here. The point of this trial is that the masses will want a performance; they have come to see the conclusion of a tragedy, so they can have something to gossip about for the next few boring weeks. To put it bluntly, they want to see someone hang."

"But you're innocent!"

Nell sighed. "That doesn't change the fact that Ember is now a dead village. Fortunately, the Luskans were very sloppy in covering up evidence of their involvement. It seems they are far too eager to see me dead."

"I concur." Sand nodded. "They have acted very carelessly, even for Luskans. It makes me wonder if they don't see you as a threat to some plot yet to be revealed that has something to do with Neverwinter. But this time, they were extremely short-sighted. It happens when bloodlust and revenge clouds your judgment, which I daresay is common for them."

It seemed that he would say more, but refrained from doing so. In any case, Nell seemed to agree with him. "So you see, it's all about the show that we make. Luckily for us, the very fact that Luskan is accusing someone who has obvious ties to the City Watch and now Sir Grayson undermines their efforts. Plus, it's Luskan accusing me. Everyone in Neverwinter hates them."

"Traitors are abhorred even more."

"Gee, Sand, you know how to brighten the mood."

"Merely the truth, dear girl." And he stacked the notes in a very orderly manner, quite contrary to the mess all around them. "Now, do you remember what you are supposed to say and what I will be saying?"

A somewhat sardonic nod. "Yes, your honor."

Sand's lips thinned a bit, so that Shandra couldn't tell if he was annoyed with her or if he found that answer amusing. Either way, his next words were intended for her. "And Shandra, do dress more… representatively tomorrow." he said, referring to the peasant clothes Shandra still had, despite having received a new set of armor as a sort of "initiation into an adventurer's life" present.

The former farm girl frowned. "Why?" she, like all the others, were to attend the trial, as part of the crowd.

She received an indulgent smile in return, one that a slightly annoyed adult might give while explaining that two plus two equaled four to a particularly dimwitted child. "Because, considering your rural background, we would very much like to have your… moral support closer to us."

"He means that we would like you to sit with us during the trial." Nell translated into Common with a small grin at Shandra's "huh?" expression. "Free front-row tickets to a death seat. No refunds. Welcome to a day in the life of a hero."