James Ward: The Paladins

General Raachaak looked up for the other two vrocks, but they were already gone, probably through Lolth's Web and halfway to the Prime by now. The balor threw back his head and howled in potent self-exultation as he deftly coiled his leather and hung it at his hip.

"Before we all rode together to the wedding of Lord Piegeiron and Lady Eidola, we did not know well these other good followers of Tyr, who came with us from Phlan, mlady," explained Miltiades as he introduced her to them.

"We know Able best," said Kern, presenting a warrior-cleric with iron-black hair, deep chocolate eyes, and a clean-shaven jaw that remained shadowed despite the daily razor. "He's revered in Phlan for both his puissant skill with the warhammer and his great clerical war magic.''

The massive fighter in sturdy banded armor bowed gravely, eyes focused on the floor, and said nothing. But Aleena detected within him a great sadness, that of someone who has begun to question the precepts by which he has lived all his life, and who now feels himself adrift in a hostile world.

"If I am not mistaken, you have already made Jacob's acquaintance," continued Miltiades. "He has often quested in the Western Heartlands and, I understand, has occasionally gone monster hunting with Lord Paladinson."

"And Piegeiron slays dragons with the best of 'em!" said Jacob, capturing and kissing the wizard's slender hand with a wink and a grin. "It's good to see you again, Aleena, and it's great to serve Tyr, Piegeiron, and these two paladins of legend, all at the same time!"

Aleena grinned down at the charming, curly-haired blond. I see you're still carrying that two-handed sword," she observed.

"Aye," said Miltiades sourly. "And not a warhammer, though that is the true weapon of the followers of Tyr. I will say, though," he conceded, "Jacob has demonstrated nimble adroitness with the blade in a joust. Both Kern and I have challenged Jacob to spar. Not only has he acquitted himself well in swordsmanship, but he often quotes Tyr's proverbs between blows."

The paladin gestured and Trandon, a leather-clad fighter of some fifty winters stepped forward. His long silver-streaked hair was tied behind him, and he leaned upon a fat, ashen quarterstaff.

"I'm not bad with a staff, myself," Aleena told him as they shook hands.

"I would prefer to wield the warhammer as befits a warrior of Tyr," the man answered. "But I've seen many battles and haven't always emerged unscathed." Trandon held up his right arm. "A close encounter with a vampire permanently drained the vitality from this arm, normal as it might appear to you, and left me unable to lift and wield the weapon of my faith."

"I've a magical ointment that I think could heal you," volunteered Aleena.

"Nay, Lady Paladinstar," said Miltiades. "I have called upon Tyr himself to heal Trandon, but his arm remains too weak to swing a hammer. There is no cure."

Trandon nodded sadly. "Tyr's will be done."

"Trandon has spent many years wandering Cormyr, recruiting servants for Tyr," said Kern. "He is highly trusted by the Hammers of Tyr, a prestigious order of paladins."

"I'm not one of the Hammers," added Trandon hastily. "I'm not even a paladin, although I do follow Tyr's way. I was merely asked to represent the Hammers' good wishes to Lord and Lady Paladinson, as they are forever busy serving almighty Tyr."

"And this is Harloon," said Miltiades, introducing the last of the Phlaness group. "He is but nineteen years of age. yet he has already seen more than his share of dungeons and dragons."

"True enough, your Ladyship," said the tall, dark young man. "I've been a sellsword since I was nigh fourteen."

"Until you found Tyr?"

"You could say that, I guess. A few months ago, a complete stranger saved my life and lost hers in the bargain. I wanted to know who she was, but she died before I could ask her, and the only mark she carried was the scales of Tyr on her warhammer." Harloon looked at Kern and smiled. "I met Kern in Phlan, learned about Tyr, and decided I wanted to become a paladin."

"And I never met a more persistent student," said Kern drily. Much to the merciless amusement of his beloved elvish wife, Listle, Harloon followed the paladin around like a puppy dog.

"I'm pleased to meet all of you, and honored to travel with you," announced Aleena.

"Let us commune with Tyr as our quest begins," pronounced Miltiades. "Rescue is our cause, our cause is just, justice is good, goodness is Tyr; the rescue of Lady Eidola is the will of Tyr!"

"Praise Tyr!" the other men cried.

There was a knock at the door.

"Praise Tyr, gentlemen, but don't forget that Lady Eidola is beloved of my father, who is the benevolent law of Waterdeep," said Aleena as she walked to the door and opened it, revealing a teenager with sandy hair, cropped short. His clean, tailored vest and freshly pressed trousers contrasted oddly with a new pair of heavy leather boots he wore. His legs bowed slightly under the weight of a gigantic backpack, overstuffed and lumpy, clothing spilling from the top and sides. From head to toe he bulged with weapons: a broadsword strapped to his back under the backpack, a bow and quiver across his shoulder, a dart belt wrapped around bis waist, a dagger tucked under the belt, a short sword sheathed at both sides, and a knife tucked in the back of his right boot, which promised to scrape his ankle raw if he hiked all day. His eyes twinkled with excitement.

"This is Freeman Kastonoph," announced Aleena, "known to his friends as Noph. He will accompany us in the rescue." The boy looked at the pretty spellcaster and blushed crimson.

All six men looked at each other and frowned. Miltiades raised his finger and opened his mouth to speak, but Aleena cut him off. "-and manage my supplies… as well as provide services to the group! Such as cooking and-and polishing armor!" Noph's expression of excitement-turned to one of surprise and distaste. She put her hand on his arm to stop his impending exclamation. "You'll learn that my assistant has many talents, and I won't hear of dissent."

Miltiades closed his mouth and dropped his finger.

"I'm off to Khelben's tower for last-minute preparations. We leave an hour before sunset. Noph, why don't you help the paladins, and get to know them?"

Aleena turned and left the room before Miltiades could come up with a reason to leave Noph behind. The boy mutely watched her go, sighed hopefully, then turned to look sheepishly at the powerful warriors of Tyr- Kern, Harloon, and Jacob slowly approached and circled Noph, inspecting him with grave expressions. He clasped his hands against his chest and bore their examination passively.

"Er, how many of these do you actually use in battle?" asked Harloon, politely, pointing at Noph's weaponry. He glanced at his comrades and fought down a smile.

"Well-uh-I haven't actually been in a battle, sir, but I thought I'd try them all and see which one works best," replied Noph.

"Interesting approach. But are there any nonlethal ways to tell when a weapon isn't working well?"

Kern and Jacob sniggered loudly; Miltiades silenced them with a glare. "Harloon," he said quietly. "You remember your first days of questing better than the rest of us, so we will leave it to you to be sure that Freeman Kastonoph is properly packed." The paladin turned and strode into his bedchamber, closing the door behind him. With a chuckle and a few winks, Kern followed.

Jacob bowed politely to Noph. "Farewell, Freeman Kastonoph. I go to pack my weapons. Mayhap if I should forget any, perhaps I could borrow some of yours." With a snort of laughter, he disappeared, leaving Harloon and Noph alone.