James Ward - Pools of Darkness

The only audible sound to mark the passing of the ghost was a soft, "No, not again." The warrior spirit shriveled into a thin black mist and evaporated.

The paladin fell to his knees, gripping the broken remains of the shield. Instead of a cry of joy at his victory, the knight murmured, "What have I done? What have I done with the gift of Tyr? I should have known Zarl would attack the shield when I threw it down."

"What would have happened if you hadn't thrown down the shield?" Ren now crouched quietly in the grass behind the knight. The others stood behind him.

The paladin turned to look at the five strangers. "After my destruction, Zarl would have easily defeated all of you. He would have then used his evil to raise an indestructible undead army and sweep the continent. His goal would have been to destroy every living thing in Faerun, even if it took a thousand years. He was evil and destructive in life, and he remains so in death."

Andoralson expressed his compassion for the knight. "I believe Tyr would think one holy relic was worth the lives of millions of people. Don't you agree?"

Talenthia bent down to help the paladin to his feet. "Take off that heavy helm and let me see your wounds. I'd be happy to heal you, if you'll allow me."

The paladin rose, but gently removed Talenthia's hands from his arms. "In all honor, I must tell you my story first. When I take off my helm, do you all promise to let me finish my tale?"

The companions glanced at each other, but all nodded in silence. After the scene that had just unfolded, they were curious. Ren looked at the smoldering black blade still lying on the ground and wondered what fantastic story lay behind it.

Miltiades lifted his war helm. Talenthia gasped. A barely audible growl arose in Gamaliel's throat. The group saw the head of a horrible skeleton. Like his foe, the paladin was also undead!

"I am a paladin of Tyr. I died a thousand years ago. Please listen before you think of destroying me."

The pleading sound of the knight's voice was hard to ignore. A face with empty eye sockets and withered skin turned to Ren; the knight knew instinctively that the others would take the ranger's lead. Wisps of hair still clung to the parchment skin on the knight's head. Bones creaked as the undead paladin moved.

Ren sat on the grass, motioning the others to do the same.

"We want to listen to you, but I have never heard of paladins rising again to serve their god."

"I understand your doubts, and I thank you for this chance. As I said, I died a thousand years ago. In life, I served my god Tyr faithfully and wholeheartedly. I fought the enemies of my faith across all of Faerun. Because I was so successful, other followers of Tyr gave me the Holy Shield of Tyr, my magical war helm, and this runic sword of Tyr.

"The land on which we stand was much different a thousand years ago. A city stood a few miles to the north. I was its steward and war champion. For fifty years, I had the honor of guarding its gates. The city of Turell knew much strife, but we were always victorious.

"All the residents followed the ways of Tyr and all the citizens were warriors as well as craftsmen. But the year before I died, a horde led by the terrible warrior-wizard Zarl laid siege to my city. For over a year, we resisted. Week after week I challenged and defeated the most powerful warriors of the horde in combat before the city gates. But Zarl would never face me in battle.

"My city and the besiegers were both on the brink of ruin. We were desperate, and after much prayer, I decided to sneak into the camp of Zarl and try to take in stealth what he wouldn't allow me to take in honorable battle. My city was at stake. I killed him, but in turn I was killed by his men. They buried me here and surrounded me with a thousand of the most powerful members of the evil army. Then they charged into my city and leveled it. Not a single stone stood after they were through. Turell was literally wiped off the map.

"The army took Zarl's body back to their lands, but his spirit remained in the earth next to my resting place. Because I didn't boldly go into the camp and challenge Zarl in battle, Tyr refused me the rest granted to heroes slain in honorable battle. I was cursed by my god. For one thousand years, my spirit has roamed these lands, awaiting the day when Tyr would raise me for one last quest.

"Only hours ago, Tyr's radiance raised me. At the same time, Bane's power raised the dead around me. All across the Moonsea lands, horrible legions of undead are awakening-I can sense it. In my spirit form, I saw Phlan stolen by Bane's power. Now Tyr has summoned me to venture forth and help return Phlan to its home on the Moonsea. If I can prove myself to Tyr, I will finally be granted eternal peace."

Silence fell over the five companions. All were surprised and deeply moved by his saga.

Andoralson spoke first. "Is your mission truly to restore Phlan?"

The warrior responded with the pride of a man on a holy quest. "Yes. Tyr has raised me to face Bane's minions and wrest Phlan from their grasp. If I must complete my mission alone, I am prepared to do so."

Evaine, Ren, and the others exchanged questioning glances. All seemed to be thinking the same thing. Ren spoke up.

"Noble warrior, we have all come together for our own reasons but with a common cause. We all seek to restore Phlan. I have dear friends missing along with the city. Talenthia and Andoralson have been ordered by Sylvanus to assist me. Evaine seeks the pool of darkness that lies within the city. She plans to destroy it because…" Ren realized for the first time that he didn't know why the sorceress sought the pool. He looked to Evaine for an explanation.

Evaine's eyes met Ren's, but her cheeks were flushed with hidden emotions. Her voice was steady, but the others could see that it was an effort for her to maintain control. "Let's just say that I have a very old and very personal reason for hunting the pools. I prefer not to discuss it. But you know by now that my loyalties are sound and my dedication is unwavering." Gamaliel patted the sorceress's shoulder. None of the group had yet seen such a show of emotion in the logical sorceress.

"I think I speak for everyone when I say you are welcome in our group. If you'd like to join us, that is." Ren rose from the grass and reached out a hand to the paladin.

"Not so fast, ranger." Evaine's calculating mind had again taken over, and she rose to her feet. "No offense, paladin, but with the world in chaos as it is, you must understand our caution." She turned to the druids. "My magics tell me this one didn't lie when he told his story. But we must be sure. Andoralson, can you tell if this paladin is still lawful and good in his faith to Tyr?"

"Easily done, sorceress," the druid said with a smile. He waved a hand and whispered an arcane sentence. Miltiades was quickly outlined in a golden glow. "He is still dedicated in his faith, but he has none of the normal powers of a paladin. He is now some type of spectral warrior."

"Logically speaking, you may be a hindrance to us any time we encounter other people. They'll immediately assume you're evil. No offense, of course, but we must consider the good of the mission." Evaine turned away from the group and walked toward the woods where she had sent the horses. Gamaliel followed her closely.

"Wait a minute, my lady," Andoralson's words stopped her. "No one will know our new friend isn't the noble paladin he seems to be. Observe."

After a few gestures and words issued from the druid, a magical illusion swirled around the skeletal form of the paladin. Miltiades removed his gauntlets, and instead of skeletal bones, perfectly formed hands appeared. The paladin's head became the visage of a noble man with flowing dark hair.

"I like your style, Cousin," Talenthia chirped. "I've seen this type of magic before. My cousin's illusions fool almost everyone. Evaine, I think a creature favored by Tyr will be an advantage to our group. Won't you reconsider?"