James Ward: The Paladins

The wizard settled back in his high-backed dragonhide chair and mentally activated its arcane ability. In extradimensional space, he saw peoples' auras glow and diurn in patterns and colors. His eyes subtly shimmered as the magic took effect. Both paladins noted the reddish sparkle behind the wizard's pupils, but they said nothing. Just the same, Kern couldn't help but wonder if maybe glowing red eyes were an effrontery to Tyr.

Khelben's gleaming eyes first studied Miltiades and blinked against the blinding white essence of purity bathing the paladin, who sat ramrod straight in his chair. Even his graceful plate mail of ancient craft shone as brilliant as quicksilver in the sun. Here was a titanic force of order and law, with a presence of will capable of deflecting magic as a shield fends off blows. Although he appeared to be a man of about forty winters, Miltiades was 1,000 years old. Khelben's friend Elminster had once spoken of this knight, who died in the service of Iyr, was raised as a skeleton to quest for centuries, and was at last rewarded with mortality and love.

"You will need to send out a rescue party immediately. The enemy must not complete their plans," remarked Miltiades, a rolling burr in his speech. Unusually insightful if a bit cocky, this paladin had come to Khelben's conclusion without hesitation or pause. The tone of his voice carried the wisdom of many lifetimes and the brash confidence of affirmed heroism.

"Tyr loathes the injustice of personal attacks for political gain, and we shall be his tools on Faerun," added the paladin.

"Praise be to Tyr," Kern intoned.

Blackstaff s eyes squinted as he scanned Kern. His bushy brow cocked. Kern had no aura! Where was the unmistakable glow of a paladin? Where was his life force, his lawful illumination, his shimmer of holy magic, his shining truthfulness? When Khelben faced other null individuals in the past, they usually turned out to be baatezu or tanar'ri fiends.

Khelben kept his surprise to himself. There could be several good reasons why the young paladin thwarted his detection magic: He might possess a magical item that gave proof against scrying devices, or he might be deflecting the magic. On the other hand, there were plenty of bad reasons, too. Kern, he observed suspiciously, was completely different from Miltiades. Where the elder wasted no motion and presented himself in few words, Kern was the opposite-always moving, even when seated. Oh, the youthful knight spoke like a paladin, yet not with the solemn depth of his comrade. He was too likable to be a paladin.

Like Miltiades, Kern carried his age well; he had passed at least thirty years but appeared to have lived only nineteen of them. Elminster had mentioned this one as well, saying he fought hordes of fiends to recover the famed Warhammer of Tyr and return it to its great altar in Phlan. Indeed, any who knew Kern's name knew no one could match him with a warhammer.

Paladins are such odd creatures, thought Khelben. Pledged to live by a strict code of virtue, they should be ideally suited to lead a rescue, yet that very same code made them impossible to count on. With their often-strange and intractable senses of honor, they frequently jeopardized themselves and their missions-and that lay heavily upon Khelben's mind.

"Miltiades has saved many maidens from myriad dangers," said Kern with a bow to his friend. "I am honored to take part in this rescue! I thank Tyr for the opportunity! The cause is just, the Open Lord is deserved of our services, and the crime of kidnapping is an affront to Tyr!"

"Tyr be praised," Miltiades echoed.

Aleena Paladinstar snorted in amusement. "The mere idea of saving a damsel in distress would make a paladin foam at the mouth." She rose from her chair, and Miltiades and Kern stood as well. "Oh, sit down, for Tyr's sake," she snapped, crossing to a nearby table laden with mugs and bottles and pouring herself a cup of wine.

"What is the fastest route to the Utter East?" she asked.

"A dimensional gate, of course."

"Is there such a gate in the Western Heartlands?"

"Yes," answered Khelben. "It's in Undermountain."

"Undermountain!" echoed Aleena with a grimace, crossing back to the mahogany triangle.

"Undermountain?" repeated Kern, curious.

Khelben continued. "I've searched my records on Ha-laster's complex and found a map that purports to be a fragment of the eastern side of the third level." He reached into his robe and produced a bright orange gem, which he placed on the table and spun, whispering a word of magic. The stone gained speed as it twirled and shot yellow light upward, forming a map out of the beams in the air.

"This is the place, here," he said, pointing at a chamber on the suspended image. "Ill give you the parchment map itself before you go. Find your way to this room and you'll find the gate. It's marked by a pair of mammoth tusks, rising out of a pyramid. This afternoon, after we assemble a team, I'll teleport the lot of you to an access point on the third level of Undermountain."

"Teleport?" asked Kern, coloring slightly. "Are you a very powerful wizard, Mage Arunsun?"

Khelben looked at the impudent young paladin with irritation.

"Why not send us directly to the gate chamber?" asked Miltiades. "Time is of the essence."

"Because Undermountain is the province of the mad mage Halaster, and to protect it he's spent years making it impossible to teleport in and out of the great subterranean complex with any accuracy. You'll have to sniff out the gate, yourselves."

Khelben reached out and snatched up the spinning gem, and the light map dissolved. "When you find the gate, you must activate it. Stand before it and say, 'Open in the name of the past and present Lords of Waterdeep.' Its other side lies, according to my texts, within a magic area where my crystal cannot see." Khelben's fingers tapped restlessly on the table. "I cannot see…" he muttered to himself.

"The gate will take us to a place the enemy has shielded from us?" asked Miltiades, thoughtfully. "An ambush, mayhap?"

Khelben lifted his head with a jerk. "Possibly. The gate in Undermountain is the only known portal to the Utter East. But that blind spot is the only place in the Utter East that could hide Lady Eidola from my magic. In any event, we have no choice but to begin with the gate." He rose and began to pace the chamber. "What if there is an ambush? Aren't you warriors? Aren't you prepared for a fight?"

"Of course!" cried Kern. "But how do we find the Lady once we've arrived in the Utter East?"

The wizard reached into his robe. This time he drew forth the crystal pendant he'd taken from the Open Lord. "I made this for Aleena's father. The closer you get to the Lady Eidola, the brighter it glows. Piegeiron wanted it to light his lady's way. I found the sentiment rather romantic, so I indulged him."

Aleena reached for it, then pulled back her hand. "Give it to Kern," she said. "He is renowned for having sought and found the legendary Hammer of Tyr, which was lost for years. He must be a great seeker, so he may be the best finder."

"Aleena!" protested Blackstaff, but she held up her hand to silence him. For a moment, she looked just like her father.

"The paladins must lead the team, Khelben," she reminded him. She pointed at the chain dangling from his hand. "With that, they can lead the way to Eidola."

Khelben frowned at Kern, who stood and gravely reached for the pendant. The wizard hesitated a moment more, then with a grunt of assent handed it to the paladin, who put it over his head and tucked it under his chain mail. "I'll keep it safe, Lady Paladinstar. You can count on me."

Khelben stood looking from Miltiades to Kern and back. "All Waterdeep depends upon you, and all the Lords thank you for consenting to undertake this quest. I must, however, insist upon three things, and I expect as paladins you'll honor your oath to abide by my demands." The paladins glanced at each other and then assumed positions of attention.