T.H. Lain - Oath of Nerull

"You're a wonderful little man, aren't you? I can tell we are going to be the best of friends. I have only a small request, between friends. I am so parched! Please, be a dear and fetch me a dipper of water from over there, would you?"

Well, of course he would go get his friend a dipper of water! She was his very best friend, wasn't she? He laughed, pleased by the absurdity of her request. As if he would refuse her. He began walking to the edge of the casting circle.

"Nebin! Wake up! What are you doing?"

Nebin stopped, looking for who spoke. It was Hennet. The gnome was delighted. Fie would introduce his old friend Hennet to his newest friend, the White Enchantress. A pretty name, that.

Nebin called to Hennet, "I was looking for you earlier. How'd you do? Oh never mind, that can wait; I want to introduce you to the White Enchantress. Isn't she extraordinary?" Nebin finished with a sappy grin.

The judge watched the discussion with an incredulous look on his face. Nebin wondered why.

Hennet shook his head. "Think about what you just said; she's an enchantress! You're in the middle of a match, right now! If you fetch her a dipper of water, you leave the circle, and she wins.

What kind of friend would ask you to do that? She's enchanted you, and you'd better shake it off, or you're done."

Nebin pushed his goggles up onto his forehead. Hennet had a point.

He turned back to the Enchantress and asked, "Can I get you that dipper after we're done here?"

Her smile turned to a frown, and she growled, "You're useless! Why would I ever be your friend? Never speak to me again."

The effect of her words on the gnome was immediate. He wilted, hanging his head. Tears of shame welled in his eyes. He had forgotten what it felt like to be rejected. No, he hadn't forgotten, it just had never felt this bad before. Maybe if he explained…He looked up and saw that the White Enchantress held one her wands.

She aimed it and said, "Maybe this will make you feel better, poor guy."

A stupid grin stretched Nebin's lips as a spray of color showered from her wand, washing over him in a buzz of conflicting urges. How could she use his favorite spell against him? What kind of friend would do that? Realization hit him as he tried shaking off the flashing colors. Hennet called it right; she'd enchanted him. But the charm was broken.

A rush of words tumbled from his mouth, long and loud. The spell was lengthy but had worked to great effect earlier. He had a moment of doubt, remembering the priest's words. Should he avoid that spell, try something else? No, time was running out and he needed a powerful distraction. The White Enchantress tried to ensorcel him once more, but he shut his ears to her entreaties. She wouldn't humiliate him twice in a row.

He chanted the last syllable. A roll of noise, like thunder, heralded the appearance of a red-feathered bird of prey. It materialized right next to the White Enchantress. Its beak was stained with blood, and its eyes shone with the fury of Hell. Then it was on her.

The White Enchantress gave ground, crying aloud. The fiendish hawk went for her eyes, beak pecking and talons scratching.

"Forfeit! I forfeit! Get it away," she yelled.

Nebin had hoped only to confuse her with the summoned creature so he could force her out of the ring in some other fashion, but this was even better. With a snap, he dismissed the spell; the cruel raptor faded away, leaving only a wisp of smoke.

The White Enchantress, with the creature gone, regained her composure, though her face remained flushed.

She said to Nebin, "You are a worthy competitor. Good luck to you."

Then she walked away, still the image of poise. Despite himself, Nebin felt a small echo of friendliness toward her. She possessed potent magic, and he hoped he would see her again.

Hennet clapped the gnome on the shoulders and said, "That's it, we're both in. I had a bye this last round; my first three rounds were laughable. I faced one mage named Harper who didn't even manage to cast a spell. I wish you had seen him quaking in fear. Well, it's done. We're both in the finals!"

The judge called out Nebin's win. Hennet and Nebin cheered, as did a contingent in the crowd. Apparently, one or both of them had picked up a small following. It was a good day for dueling.

The mages returned to the Cuttlestone Inn, triumphant. After a drink in the common room, they repaired to their quarters. Hennet felt a flush of guilt when he recalled the predicament of Ember, Brek, and the injured elder. They remained behind in the mages' room while Hennet and Nebin competed in the Duel Arcane.

Hennet knocked, then pushed open the door to their room. "What news?" he called.

Kairoth lay on a cot near the window, propped up with pillows. Ember sat on a stool next to him. The two were in the midst of speaking, but Ember looked up and smiled at Hennet. He realized the smile was the first of real sincerity he had seen from the monk. It's warmth sent a shiver of excitement thrilling through him.

Yes, I have it bad, he cajoled himself.

Brek Gorunn sat at the small table that was now piled with scrolls, a ring, and other oddments they had taken from the mummified creature below the city.

He said, "We're better, thanks to Moradin's grace. How fared your duel?"

Nebin pushed past the sorcerer and said, "Could you expect any less than total victory? Hennet's foes were slipshod; their magic was weak. He could have called light and won his duels. In fact, I think that's exactly what he did at least once. But me! I faced such challenges! Why, one evil shrew took direct control of my mind. If not for a supreme effort of will-something I've practiced-I'd still be in her power. I'm surprised they let someone so awesome compete at our level."

"A supreme effort of will and my help, you mean," interjected Hennet.

"Right, I was coming to that."

"In any case," continued Hennet, "we're both slated for the finals in two days. But, what about you?" He fixed the man on the cot with his direct gaze, saying, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Elder Kairoth. Ember speaks well of you."

Kairoth's hair was shaved, his features chiseled as if from granite, and he had a wiry build. He wore a ring on one hand, the same ring Ember retrieved from the pile of ashes in the temple.

Ember said, "Elder Kairoth, please tell them what you've told us. These are the two who helped us find and retrieve you from below the city."

The man weighed Hennet, then Nebin, with a look. Apparently, they passed.

The man said, "It is good to make your acquaintance, young friends. You have my deepest gratitude. You have allowed one last chance for redemption for the Enabled Hand."

Kairoth sat up straighter and took a drink from a small cup.

"Brek Gorunn has healed me of my physical hurts," he continued, "but I remain spiritually weakened, for now. My life energy was nearly snuffed out. Others were not saved as I was. The Order was betrayed."

"Betrayed?" asked the gnome.

"I will start at the beginning. Five weeks ago, a student of mine, Adeva Silverhair, disappeared. At first it seemed nothing, but when a search of her quarters revealed the possibility of foul play, I became concerned. It seemed as if there had been a struggle, and I found blood. I was especially distraught because I scolded Adeva for her impudence earlier that day. Perhaps my harsh words left her open to poor choices. I do not know.

"Regardless, when I went to Elder Vobod and told him of Adeva's disappearance, he laughed. He said Adeva had merely gone away on a trip. Then he gave me a terrible look, and told me that if I didn't want to see where she'd gone, I'd better forget about it. Can you imagine, an elder threatening another? That was when I penned my message to Ember. I hid a secret message in the letter, in case the courier was intercepted."