Ren smiled and walked right up to the woman.
Gamaliel shook his head, hesitating before moving toward the door. Evaine sensed him struggling to maintain control.
The sorceress refused to budge. She folded her arms across her chest. “This will stop right now. I know you for what you are,” Evaine said in the most forceful voice she could muster. Sebastian, you old dog! You kept company with a creature like this? the sorceress thought to herself.
Evaine stood alone. She might have to fight for the lives of her two friends, for if they entered this creature’s home, they might never come out again. “You’re a succubus. Now I remember one of the last things Sebastian told me before he died. Lunlaa!” Evaine shouted, drawing her magical staff in front of her. “Lunlaa, show yourself for what you really are!”
“Aaaagh,” the woman snarled. Her hair grew long and turned raven black as her features and muscles bulged. “It seems—owwwww,” she cried as huge bat wings burst from her back. “It seems you have found me out, ahhh!” With a final groan of both pleasure and pain, her eyes glowed with red energy and her delicate human hands and feet turned to equally delicate talons and claws. The abominable creature flapped and hopped around Evaine, but the sorceress would not be intimidated.
Through the use of her name, the beautiful woman who had stood before them had been forced to transform into the lush, seductive creature that held men spellbound—a succubus.
The creature laughed a grating, hissing laugh. “You may have forced me to transform, but you can’t send me back. Only Sebastian possessed that power, and he chose never to use it.” Lunlaa now circled the men, pinching Ren’s arm and squealing in delight.
Evaine refused to back down. “I know what you gave Sebastian and what you took from him. I could destroy you here and now!” The sorceress began gathering the energies that would explode a fireball around the creature.
“Harm me and your friends will fight you!” the creature cackled.
Evaine could see that Ren and Gamaliel were completely spellbound by what they still saw as a delicate human female. They were bewitched and couldn’t see her horrible natural form. They stood like statues, mouths agape. Evaine knew Gamaliel was incapable of attacking her, but Ren was another matter.
Gamaliel still struggled for control. Mistress … can’t kill her … get help … her help …
“You didn’t come here to fight me,” Lunlaa purred all too sweetly. Now she smiled at Ren and patted Gamaliel’s shoulder. “We have a common enemy dwelling in the red tower. I will tell you how to kill him if we can be friends. I can help you in this quest in more ways than you expected. There is much you don’t know about the darkness that surrounds that tower.” The succubus was clearly enjoying her game.
“Why should you help us? How do I know we can trust you?”
“The pit fiend that made the tower is a fiend of unusual power, and he grows stronger all the time. The pit fiend would kill a poor succubus like me. And his influence will soon encroach upon my territory. What’s a poor succubus to do but enlist the help of gentle adventurers like yourselves? Let us call a truce of sorts. I will tell you and your friends what you need to know, and you will leave me alone. Do we have a bargain?”
Evaine gritted her teeth. “I accept. But only because I intend to destroy the pool of darkness, no matter what it takes. I will be back to deal with you. I have friends who aren’t so easily charmed by your powers.”
The succubus cackled again. “You are wise and mature beyond your years. A lesser mind would have tried to destroy me here and now. And would have died trying.
“As for your friends. One of them has succumbed to my powers already. The other, a fine specimen, I will allow to pass, even though I’d like him for my personal collection. The third means nothing to me. I will release these two men to you.” Ren and Gamaliel were oblivious to the meaning of the creature’s words.
The succubus sighed. “I will quickly tell you what you need to know to destroy the tower and the pit fiend. Then you must leave me.”
Concentrating to keep her mind free of the evil influence, Evaine spent the next hour listening to the succubus. By the time she led Gamaliel and Ren to their horses, she knew of the abishai they would face once they got near the tower, of the nature of the darkness filling the land around the tower, and about the pit fiend’s greatest weakness.
Evaine ordered Gamaliel to turn into a cat once again, then sent him to scout for Andoralson and Miltiades. They headed them off before they reached the cabin of the succubus. Evaine didn’t want to risk the chance of the druid falling under the evil woman’s spell.
She related the whole story to Andoralson and Miltiades as they rode.
In turn, Andoralson told of his cousin’s transformation. Talenthia’s loss was deeply felt by everyone. But Andoralson insisted she would be happy in her decision because it was everything she had ever wanted from life. Knowing that her sacrifice was her greatest wish helped lift the sadness of her passing, but only a little.
Dangerous Visit
The day had been exhausting, both mentally and physically. Even Gamaliel, with his feline energy, was dragging himself from task to task. The group had ridden until darkness closed in, then struggled in the blackness to start a fire and make camp. Only Gamaliel’s keen eyesight ensured them a safe place to camp and fresh meat for dinner. Now they lolled about the fire, discussing the day’s events and planning their strategy for the mission that lay ahead.
The loss of Talenthia, the encounter with the succubus, and the hard ride all had taken their toll. Frustration reigned, but the companions tried to remain calm and rational. If they were going to finish this mission alive, they needed to keep their spirits up. Miltiades cleverly interjected stories of old battles that were won despite terrible odds. His motives were transparent, but his encouragement was appreciated.
Evaine estimated that if they rode hard and were lucky enough to avoid monsters and travelers, they would reach the red tower in three days.
“Will we be too late to save Phlan?” Ren asked. His concern had grown visibly over the past few days. More and more, he wondered whether he would find his friends alive.
“In one respect, the darkness around the tower is a good sign. It has grown slowly, which would indicate that efforts to defeat Phlan have not succeeded. I believe the mass of darkness would grow significantly faster as more souls are consumed by the pool. This coincides with what the succubus told me—if we believe she told the truth. And the truth of her statements will be tested if and when we discover the three abishai. I expect to see them flying on the horizon early tomorrow. They’ll be our first challenge in infiltrating the red tower.”
The weary group chatted a while longer as the fire died down to glowing coals. One by one, they drifted off into fitful sleep.
Miltiades, ever vigilant, kept watch, quietly sharpening his sword. He removed his plate mail armor and meticulously polished each piece, then carefully oiled the leather straps. Turning over his breast plate, the paladin sighed as he caught his reflection in the metal. An unfamiliar face, not his usual bony self, stared back at him.
The paladin didn’t regret his appearance; rather, he considered it a privilege. After a millennium in the tomb, his god had chosen him for a holy quest and had given him a chance at redemption.
Buckling on his armor, Miltiades arose to pace the perimeter of the camp. He prayed silently to Tyr. “God of might and law, your servant is truly grateful for this chance at redemption. Grant that I may prove myself worthy. Grant that I may unselfishly complete your quest. Grant me strength that I may take no action except in your name and for your glory. Guide this humble servant into your light.” The paladin slowly circled the camp, repeating his prayer in a whisper. Completing a sixth circuit, he bowed in reverence to his god, then seated himself on a boulder to resume his watch.
Morning dawned with a chill breeze and the ever-present stormclouds. Andoralson was the first to rise. Gamaliel, tuc
ked behind his mistress on her bedroll, followed the druid’s movements with his golden eyes. Seeing that the two of them were awake, Miltiades ducked into the trees for firewood. Andoralson busied himself at the edge of the clearing.
The druid picked away a patch of grass, weeds, and fungi, dug down a few inches, then planted several seeds. After humming a chant and adding blessed water and some sparkling dust, several tender sprouts pushed up from the ground.
Ren was now awake. His curiosity finally got the better of him. “Alright, druid. I watched you go through this ritual at least four times yesterday. Each time you planted some seeds, and, within minutes, a ring of seedlings started to grow. Why do you keep doing this?”
Andoralson looked up at Ren, smiling. He loved any opportunity to enlighten others about the wonders of the forest. The ranger could see he was in for a lecture.
“I’m helping to save the land. I’m not able to sense the mass of darkness Evaine tells us about. I can, however, see what the unknown evils are doing to the forests. The destruction must be stopped. I am following the good example of my cousin and doing my small part.” The druid brushed off his hands and took a seat near the fire, helping Miltiades to stoke up a blaze.
“The trees I’ve just planted will grow magically. If they are not disturbed for a week, they will grow into huge oaks, unusually resistant to fire, disease, and blades of all kinds. Each ring of seven trees will form a grove—a haven of goodness, if you will. The trees will help counter the effects of evil.”
Gamaliel jumped abruptly to his feet, sniffing the air.
Evaine announced the cat’s message. “Riders coming.”
The group readied their weapons, but left them concealed. They casually broke camp as they waited for the riders to approach. Long before the new group could be identified, Ren and the others heard their chanting. Evaine informed the group that Gamaliel smelled incense.
Andoralson cast a quick spell to mentally view the approaching horsemen.
“They’re clerics,” he observed. “There’s a group of seven who follow Ilmater. You’ll be able to tell by their gray tunics and tabards. One wears a red skullcap, indicating he is the leader. Take note if he has a gray teardrop tattooed under his left eye. Such a mark means he is a master of unusual power and dedication.
“There are ten other riders who are clerics of Torm. You can tell by the blinding shine on their plate armor, even under these gray skies. One has a blue tint to his plate armor, marking him as their leader. I’d guess him to be very powerful.”
Both groups of clerics were loudly singing different chants, apparently oblivious to the clamor their conflicting tunes created. One priest of each sect carried a smoldering censor, filling the air with a trail of smoky incense. The singing didn’t stop, even when the clerics discovered the travelers. The companions were on their feet, packing gear into saddlebags.
“Be ye friend or foe?” asked the cleric in the lead. The even tone of his voice and the scourge he hadn’t drawn told everyone he didn’t expect a fight. The other horsemen crowded into the clearing, arranging themselves so as not to alarm the strangers.
“Friends to those who would be our friends, foes to any who would slow our quest,” Ren said, nodding to both groups.
“Well spoken, for a warrior,” the cleric commented. The priest with the red skullcap gestured to the others, and his followers stopped their chanting and dismounted. The clerics of Torm held to their saddles but lowered their voices to a faint hum. The leaders of both groups stepped forward.
The cleric in blue plate mail shouted to his followers to cease their chanting. The smoke from the burning incense concentrated in the clearing, tainting the air with the smell of singed hair and stale, bitter herbs. The entire group grimaced as the odor washed over them. Gamaliel bared his teeth in a silent hiss.
“I am Bishop Painel,” announced the man wearing the red skullcap. The gray teardrop tattooed under his eye was now visible to Ren and the others. “My priests are on a quest of our own, along with the priests of Torm.” Painel deferred to his colleague.
“And I am Starnak, High Bishop of Torm. What is a ragged band such as yourselves doing here? Do you realize how dangerous this land has become?”
Without asking for consent, Painel moved to bless Evaine and the others. Gamaliel leaped between the cleric and his mistress, hissing at the intrusion.
“Good clerics,” Ren boomed in his most authoritative voice, “our quest is to find some friends who were stolen along with the entire city of Phlan. We plan to look for answers at a red tower.”
The clerics extinguished their pungent incense. The leaders looked upon Ren’s group in surprise.
“Isn’t this a coincidence?” Painel said calmly as he backed away from Gamaliel. “Our mighty gods have given us the quest of finding a red tower and expunging the evil there. Warrior, won’t you introduce us to the rest of your party?”
Ren quickly surveyed the others. “I am called Blade. Yonder is a warrior dedicated to Tyr, known as Ordean.” The ranger silently hoped that the clerics couldn’t see through the paladin’s illusion or sense that he was actually undead. “The lady is a wizard calling herself Anastasia—” Ren smiled, thinking Evaine wasn’t the only one who could think fast on her feet “—her familiar, the giant cat, is Fellinor. The druid—”
“This druid can introduce himself. I am called Acer, good clerics. Perhaps we can join forces to approach the red tower. What do you know of this magical structure?”
Evaine observed slight hand gestures among the clerics at the rear of the group. She knew they were probably casting spells of detection.
The sorceress cleared her throat loudly. She hoped she could stop the clerics before they discovered their real names and the truth about Miltiades. “Excuse me, but your spells of detection won’t work on us in the cloud of evil in which we find ourselves,” she called over the heads of the two leaders. “Magics of searching won’t work around the tower, either. You’ll just have to trust us.”
“Ah, trust—a charming concept, rarely given freely, is it not?” Painel asked. “Shall we compare knowledge of the tower before we decide whether to join forces?”
Four of his clerics began setting up strange poles, each with an iron gauntlet affixed to the top. The two lesser clerics of Ilmater walked between the poles, spreading the ashes from the incense burner.
Clerics are so odd, Ren thought to himself. He could never imagine such a life for himself.
“So, dear lady, please illuminate us on what your group knows,” Painel said. A small stool was placed between the poles and the bishop settled onto it with a grunt.
Evaine was not about to spill the whole truth until she knew more about these clerics. She could tell a little of the story, however. “My home was destroyed and a message was left behind stating that a wizard named Marcus was responsible. He is recruiting wizards to join him at the red tower.
“Through some difficult spells, I think I have determined that this Marcus is involved in Phlan’s disappearance. We hope to find him and learn what his terms are for the city’s return. I could tell you all the details of our journey, but I’m sure a man such as yourself would be bored with the exploits of our little band.” Evaine paused, waiting to hear the clerics’ reaction. Hoping to bait them, she added, “I’ve also discovered three abishai guard the area around the tower.”
The clerics were obviously intrigued. “We had no idea fiendkind were involved. The situation is much more serious if fiends from other planes are present.” Starnak reached into his cloak and drew out a parchment.
“Our clerics have been using every possible means to learn about the interior of the tower. Over a dozen have gone insane, ranting about the voice of evil just before they die tormented deaths. We know of a secret door leading to a spellcasting chamber, and there are many magically locked doors there. This parchment lists the three words used to unlock the door. Be warned, if you get that far. These words came via the rantings of
insane clerics. We don’t know whether they’ll do any real good.”
Gamaliel nudged Evaine suddenly. Despite all this ridiculous incense, mistress, I suddenly detect the odor of sulfur. And a strange presence—similar to dragonfear, but not nearly as strong. Should we be concerned?
Evaine relayed the information. “My cat detects a Strange smell and presence. I think perhaps the abishai have found us. Prepare for the battle of your lives!”
Ren, Andoralson, and Miltiades immediately reached for weapons. Gamaliel’s ears twitched as he listened for the approach of the fiends. The clerics barely moved.
Starnak paused, then raised his gauntleted hand in a clenched fist. Instantly, his clerics drew their weapons. Starnak swirled his hand twice as his followers began a magical chant, causing their weapons to glow with an eerie green luminescence. The clerics of Ilmater were outlined in a white glow.
Starnak addressed the companions. “I’d like to add your group to our circle of protection. Any defenses we can raise against these fiends may increase our odds of survival.”
Ren started to accept the offer, but Evaine interrupted. “We have our own special defenses that we prefer to use. We’ve found them to be most effective against nearly any beast.” Ren shot an angry glance at the sorceress, but Evaine ignored him.
“I’ve heard these types of creatures create an aura of fear as a weapon,” Evaine continued.
“Oh, sweet child,” Painel said, “If you allow yourselves to be protected by my clerics, fear will get no hold over you. Perhaps you should reconsider our offer.”
Evaine disregarded his words, further irritating Ren.
“Um, Acer, can you do anything to locate the beasts that might be preparing to attack us?” The sorceress hoped desperately that Andoralson would catch on to what she and Gamaliel already suspected.
“I can try. If only my cousin were here—she had the chalice whose mist could locate such creatures.”
Pools of Darkness Page 22
