Pools of Darkness

12

"Fair travelers, we would approach!" A voice rang through the woods, warning the sleeping camp of incoming strangers.

Miltiades, always awake, stood guard. Ren had awakened early to share the morning watch. They heard scuffling sounds in the woods long before the voice announced the presence of travelers. Overhead, dark stormclouds still rumbled and swirled, but the sky had lightened with the sunrise. Three men astride huge wolves trotted into camp.

Minutes earlier, Gamaliel had sensed their coming and awakened his mistress and the rest of the party.

"Friendly faces are welcome, but be warned, we are a formidable band," Ren replied to their hail.

Dismounting, the three strode toward the group. They were a rough lot with shaggy black hair and torn, homespun clothing. None showed any weapons-a fact the companions found unusual for woodland travelers. No weapons, that is, except for the three enormous wolves.

"I am Artur Bladeson." The biggest of the three men gave Ren a toothy grin. "These cubs behind me are my cousins, Wuldor and Donar Arcnos. We are traveling to Vaasa to visit relatives in Moortown. Can you tell us of any trouble in the lands between there and here?"

On the opposite side of the camp, the druids talked in hushed tones. "Look how the wolves are growling at Miltiades," Talenthia whispered to Andoralson. "Could they be sensing your illusion magic?"

"No, but they could be detecting that he's an undead creature. I'll have to work on putting scent into my illusions. I don't usually bother. I hope you noticed those wolves aren't really wolves."

Meanwhile, Evaine and the barbarian sized up the strangers.

Mistress, Gamaliel mentally communicated, those men do not smell human. And those huge wolves are just waiting for the chance to attack. He stood facing the three men like a pillar of stone, blocking their view of Evaine.

Ren senses something strange, too. I can tell by his posture. There's no question he's on the defensive. Let's follow his lead, Evaine silently told her comrade.

The wolves continued to growl at Miltiades, all the while shooting wary glances at Gamaliel.

"Brutus, Tog, Garf, shut up! These fine people have invited us into their camp. The least we can do is be civil. Wuldor, take those curs away and settle them down."

Wuldor smelled like wet fur. Ren couldn't help but crinkle his nose as the man passed.

"I don't think I've ever seen wolves used as mounts before. Are you druids?" Ren tried to break the uneasiness between the two sides.

The three men laughed in an odd, barking manner.

"Druids," Donar said, choking with laughter. "No disrespect to those two over there, but even druids couldn't tame our three pets. We live with these beasts, and they do what we tell them."

"Your friends don't talk much," Artur said, warming his hands by the fire.

"They just woke up," Ren said evenly. He walked to the opposite side of an already blazing fire and added more logs. He felt compelled to get these men on their way as soon as possible. "The paths to Vaasa are clear-I just came from there. Phlan has suffered the wrath of the gods and has disappeared. Only a patch of tents marks the place where the city once stood. But you shouldn't have much trouble passing through. What do you know of Zhentil Keep and Yulash?"

"I heard that Phlan was gone," said Artur, "but I figured it to be a rumor. You've seen it, then?" Ren nodded. Artur's gaze shifted about the camp. "You people seem a little tense. Let's share some food. There's no reason we can't be friends, eh?" he said, trying to act more congenial than he looked. All the companions instinctively felt he was hiding something.

Wuldor, still tending to the wolves, spoke to Ren. "If you're traveling south, stay away from Zhentil Keep. Something has stirred up the evil in that gods-cursed city. We lost a brother there when we tried to conduct some business for our master. Some frenzied priests of Bane attacked us without reason."

None of this surprised Ren. Zhentil Keep was always a place to avoid, and Wuldor described what might well have been daily events.

Wuldor was slapping the wolves and casting strange glances toward the campfire. "Something is odd about the forests and trails to the south of Zhentil Keep. We tore through them because they didn't smell or feel right. There's a growing evil."

"Yulash, on the other hand, is fine. No problems," Donar said, taking packs of meat from his saddlebags. He quickly whittled a branch into a spit and hung some meat over the fire for roasting.

Do you see what kind of meat that is, Gam? Evaine silently voiced to the barbarian.

I smell what kind of meat it is. Should we attack now? The barbarian's eyes shifted from pale green to a deep golden color.

Let me get Ren away from them. When I give the signal, I'll go for the humans-you attack the wolves. Maybe we can disable one or two of them before they have a chance to metamorphose, she told the barbarian. She raised her voice and spoke to the druids. "Talenthia, I think you should prepare your new chalice for our friends' visit. You know, the one that makes that wonderful wine." Evaine hoped the two would pick up on her hint.

The sorceress mentally readied a spell. "Ren, could you help me for a moment? That clumsy barbarian has the straps of my backpack all tied in knots."

The ranger arose, giving Gamaliel a puzzled look. He pulled a dagger from his boot and stepped toward Evaine. But as he did so, she rounded the campfire and yelled, "Attack!"

Eighteen missiles of magical energy shot from her hands and struck Artur's chest, albeit with little effect. The camp was suddenly filled with the shouts of the companions and the flash of spells. But the three strangers and their wolves reacted almost in slow motion.

Artur rose from his place by the fire. As he stood, he transformed, as did his cousins, into a werewolf. Dark fur sprouted all over their bodies. Each man grew in height, expanding muscles rippling along their arms and legs. The change was nearly instantaneous, but these monsters weren't in any hurry. They relied on the horrifying transformations to help frighten their victims.

The three wolves grew from huge, four-legged shapes into large and deadly half-human forms, known through Faerun as wolfweres. The three new creatures launched themselves at Evaine, knowing the spellcaster was the greatest threat to them. The creature that had been Wuldor, now eight feet tall, moved to block Gamaliel.

The barbarian's sword landed solidly on the wolfwere causing little more than a scratch.

"Watch out! They're wolfweres!" Ren shouted, slashing at two of the transformed wolves with his magical daggers. The weapons bit deep and diverted the lunges of two of the wolf-men, but the third one smashed into Evaine full force.

Worried about Gamaliel and Ren, Evaine was so caught up in her spellcasting that she didn't notice the attack from behind her. The wolfwere's front paws bashed into her skull and sent her to the ground with a thud. She lay motionless.

Gamaliel's roar of rage could be heard for miles through the woods as he transformed into his true form, the giant cat. Two lightning-quick swipes with his eight-inch claws struck the monster that had attacked his mistress. Its spine was instantly severed, and Gamaliel tossed the wolfwere ten feet into the air. The monster landed, twitched, then was still. Blood oozed from its back and mouth.

Miltiades, knowing only silver or enchanted blades could harm a werewolf, was attacking with brute strength. The undead paladin locked arms with what had been Artur and tried to strangle the life out of the creature. As the werewolf reached to do the same, the paladin's illusionary flesh turned back into enchanted bones.

Artur howled in fright as Miltiades snapped his woolly neck.

Wuldor leaped at Andoralson, but the creature's crusty claws struck-not the druid-but an illusion. Two mystical flaming scimitars, created by magic and guided by the druids, flew forth and bit deep into Wuldor's flesh, seeking his heart, burning his fur, and sending him thrashing to the ground.

Ren rolled in the grass, locked in a life-and-death duel. The wolfwere ripped at his throat, but the ranger wedged his chain mail-protected arm into the jaws of the beast while his other hand jabbed with Right to find a vital organ in the huge lycanthrope. Blood splattered the campsite as the weapon found its mark repeatedly. The creature exerted its full energy trying to tear Ren's arm out of its socket.

Still guarding Evaine's body, Gamaliel sank his fangs and claws into the body of the werewolf that had been Donar.

Andoralson, hidden by several illusions, used phantasm magic on another of the wolfweres. The creature's brain played an image of its most horrible fear. The wolfwere died under the attack of mystical fangs, never realizing that the fangs were only in its mind.

Ren's dagger finally found its mark. He threw the dead body of his attacker to the ground and leaped to his feet. His arm was numb and limp, but no monsters were left alive.

All the other companions-except Miltiades-lay in the grass, panting. The undead paladin, never tiring, began dragging the bodies into the woods. Six bloody trails in the grass were soon all that remained as traces of the vanquished.

Catching his breath, Ren turned to see Evaine still lying on the ground. A tawny cat, larger than a full-grown tiger, stood guard over her. Blood slowly oozed from a large gash in the sorceress's head. The ranger limped over to her. The giant feline fluffed out his tail and hissed.

"Ren, don't!" Talenthia shouted. "Gamaliel, or whatever he is now, is in a battle frenzy. He probably doesn't even recognize you. You can bet he'll attack anything or anyone trying to touch Evaine."

"We have to do something. She could die if we don't get her head bandaged." Ren's face reddened in frustration.

"I can try to distract Gamaliel while all of you attend to Evaine. If all of you try together, you can work fast. I don't think the cat can do much to my dead bones," Miltiades offered.

"Don't be so sure," Andoralson warned. He circled wide around cat and sorceress to get a better look at Evaine. "Whatever magic operates on this beast gives it greater strength. If that cat crushed your bones, I doubt that even my cousin could heal you. Let Talenthia and I try to calm Gamaliel." The huge feline simply hissed at the druid, revealing six-inch fangs.

The druids tried everything to coax Gamaliel away from Evaine, but the big cat didn't move an inch. He aloofly watched their attempts, hissing loudly. The cousins tried spells of charming, friendship, illusion, and animal-repelling, all to no avail.

"That's one unusual animal Evaine has there. He's stubborn, but gods, he's beautiful, isn't he? I can see why Evaine is so fond of him."

Andoralson agreed with his cousin. "He really is magnificent. But right now, he's more trouble than anything." Gamaliel's golden eyes glared at the druid, then the cat lifted his nose in pride and looked away.

"Talenthia, I can't tell if it's the magical collar the cat wears or Gamaliel's innate magical resistance that allows him to ignore our spells. Can you get a better fix on him?" Talenthia concentrated and tried a spell, but shook her head. "Sorry."

Ren kept an eye on Evaine, standing as close as Gamaliel would allow. "It looks like her bleeding has stopped, and her breathing sounds more normal. She'll probably wake up naturally in a few hours."

"What do you think we should do, just wait until she comes around?" Andoralson didn't like the idea, but didn't have any other suggestions.

"We don't have much choice," Ren replied, shaking his head. "Miltiades, you and I should burn the bodies of those creatures. The two of you, pick through their equipment and see if you can learn anything about them. All we can do is hope that Evaine is all right and wakes up on her own. But if her wound gets any worse, or if she looks like she's in danger, I'll take a hand in moving Gamaliel myself. I've fought large cats like him before." The deadly look he gave Gamaliel told everyone he would kill the cat to save Evaine if necessary. The glare Gamaliel returned told Ren he would be in for trouble if he tried. "Well, uh, not exactly like this cat," Ren admitted. He motioned to the others to get busy, but Miltiades asked a question.

"What were those wolf creatures, anyway? The ones that started out as wolves and changed into humanlike things? I've battled werewolves before, but never creatures like those."

Andoralson explained. "Wolfweres. When werewolves and wolves mate, their offspring are more wolf than man. The creatures are more intelligent than normal wolves and can change shape to look like werewolves whenever they want. They're incredibly powerful and are ferocious killers. Once they're stirred up, they fight to the death-as you now know from experience.

"What surprised me is that the wolfweres allowed themselves to be mastered by the werewolves. I've always heard that the two creatures hate each other. Perhaps this growing evil in our land is perverting nature more than we suspect."

Talenthia shivered at her cousin's observations. Andoralson squeezed her in a comforting hug, then pointed her toward the woods where the bodies of the horrid creatures lay waiting. The foursome separated and busied themselves with chores.

Hours passed. Evaine didn't awaken, but didn't worsen either. Gamaliel refused to budge. He made his mistress comfortable in the grass and gently licked her wound. Still she did not stir. The wolf bodies had all been burned and the druids were done picking through the possessions they had gathered. Ren and Miltiades had cleaned their armor and sharpened all their blades.

Many hours later, as the companions roasted rabbits for supper, Evaine stirred and sent Gamaliel a mental message.

Ohh, Gam, what happened? I've got such a headache.

A wolf were hit you from behind and knocked you unconscious. You've been out for hours, and I've been guarding you from everyone. The giant animal purred, rubbing his huge tongue along her neck.

Despite her pain, the sorceress giggled out loud, attracting the attention of the others. Hey, that tickles! she said silently. Ouch, don't make me laugh. She opened her eyes to find everyone looking worriedly at her.

"I see you've met the real Gamaliel. My familiar should be a little nicer now that I'm awake. Talenthia, can you do anything for this pain? My head is splitting." The druid hesitated, looking worriedly at the cat. The sorceress ordered Gamaliel to lie down.

A stern-faced Ren watched the attractive druid work her magic on Evaine. "I can understand why you didn't tell us about your familiar. I would have done the same thing in your place. But the creature's loyalty in guarding you prevented our helping you and could have endangered your life."

"He won't prevent you from touching me again. I'll make sure of that," she said, rubbing the brown fur between her giant cat's ears. "What happened after I was knocked out?"

"Oh, nothing much," Talenthia replied, finished with her healing. The ever-cheerful druid made light of the serious battle. "We destroyed three werewolves and three wolfweres. I checked to make sure none of us, including you and the cat, got the lycanthropy sickness."

"How did you know those creatures were evil lycanthropes, anyway?" Andoralson asked. He handed Evaine some sweet-smelling fruit juice in a wooden chalice.

"We could all tell they were odd somehow. But when they pulled out that fresh meat, I knew what type of evil they were. The meat was human. Gamaliel knew by the smell. He and I can communicate mentally, if you haven't guessed that already. I would have given you all more warning, but I truly thought my missile spell would kill their leader. The creature must have been unusually powerful."

"Yes, it was. Snapping that creature's neck was more difficult than I anticipated," Miltiades noted. "But we discovered many interesting things about them while you were knocked out."

"Oh yes, you're going to love what we found," Talenthia said sarcastically. She strolled over to Ren to check his healed wound for a fourth time. "Give her the parchment they were carrying."

Andoralson handed over a small, official-looking folder with a broken wax seal. The tiny runes on the seal were in an ancient, magical script, one Evaine had learned as an apprentice. The script proclaimed the holder of the document to be a trusted ambassador. An ambassador of what, she couldn't tell, because part of the seal had fallen away. She read the scroll aloud.

To the lords and mercenary captains reading this scroll, I, Lord Marcus, bid you greeting.

The bearer of this document is a trusted servant of my new realm. He is empowered to hire and negotiate in my name for troops and mercenaries who would consider declaring fealty to me in my red tower.

The rewards such warriors may earn are vast. In my service, the battles are brief and the booty great. Those who would join should travel west of what was once Hillsfar along the coast of the Moonsea. All soldiers will be met by other servants of mine and escorted to my tower.

Lord Marcus, Red Wizard of Thay

The ranger sought Evaine's opinion. "I dreamed of a red tower just before I arrived in Phlan. I didn't think it bore any significance. Could Phlan's pool of darkness be connected somehow to this tower?"

Evaine thought for a few moments. "The large area of darkness that I saw in my spell is located west of Hillsfar. Considering what I know of such places, it's entirely possible that the tower could be within the darkness, along with the pool. But that doesn't account for the missing city.

"We should continue riding toward the smaller patch of darkness. I'm convinced it's connected to the larger evil, and it'll provide important clues." She smiled. "Besides, my home is a few days' ride south of Zhentil Keep. It's a stone cottage hidden in the edges of the elven forest. We can all rest there and discuss our strategy. I can cast another spell to locate the pool. Being that close to the area of blackness should give me more clues about what we are facing.

"I still own many of Sebastian's possessions. If the small blackness is indeed the home of my mentor's adversary, those items will help prove who I am and enlist the aid of the old wizard. Unless anyone objects, that's how I'd like us to proceed."

"Evaine" Ren said, stripping off his weapons to create an amazing pile of daggers and short swords, "could you ask Gamaliel to turn into a human again? Now that you've assured him we won't be harming you, I'd like to talk to him alone for a moment."

Gamaliel blurred and transformed before Evaine could ask. He rose to his feet to look at Ren. The glares they shot at each other might have been poisoned darts.

"Follow me, please. But first, I'd appreciate it if you'd remove your gloves." Ren requested.

Ren stared at the barbarian for a moment, then turned and walked into the woods without looking back to see if Gamaliel followed.

I can't imagine what he wants, Gamaliel, but please try to be polite. We have to work with this ranger, even if we don't particularly like him. Evaine pleaded with him mentally.

As you wish, the barbarian agreed, then turned to follow Ren.

Casting a worried look into the forest, Evaine retrieved a brush from her backpack and began untangling her hair.

"This Marcus character seems to be trying to raise a huge army," Evaine said, thinking out loud.

"Yes," Andoralson agreed. He checked the rabbits that sizzled over the fire and brushed a sticky concoction over the meat. The scents of herbs and roasting meat were delightful. "With the Moonsea region so stirred up, I don't think he's going to get more than a couple of hundred, maybe even a thousand troops. But an army like that could take advantage of the chaos in the region. Gods only know what this Red Wizard could do to the balance of life around here."

"Miltiades, what could you do with a thousand troops? Especially with the condition the Moonsea is in now?" Evaine had grown to respect the warrior's battle sense. She was beginning to like the undead paladin. He didn't speak much, but he had an intelligence and discipline Evaine appreciated and admired.

"With a thousand good troops, I could conquer all the tent cities of the Moonsea. But without the real cities, the ones the gods have stolen, it would be only a series of hollow victories. If I were on a mission of conquest, I'd certainly want more than hundreds of poor refugees.

"There is more to this Marcus than meets the eye. If he were earnestly trying to hire mercenaries, he would have sent more reliable ambassadors than those lycanthropes. He's either a miserable strategist or he just wants a few armies for some brief attack." The paladin was obviously puzzled.

Evaine and Miltiades continued their discussion about the mysterious wizard while Andoralson flittered about the campsite, muttering about overcooked meat and listening for the return of Ren and Gamaliel. Irritated by their absence, he served up the rabbits, quite proud of his cooking despite his annoyance. The remaining two servings he placed near the fire.

Half an hour later, with supper finished and their portions overcooked, two bruised and battered men limped out of the woods. Ren's hands bore bleeding scrapes and he sported a large cut along his neck. Gamaliel was almost unrecognizable behind two blackened eyes.

"What have you two been doing?" Evaine shrieked.

"I was being polite," Gamaliel said innocently. His eyes blazed a bright green but were tinged with gold.

You're annoyed with the ranger, but you enjoyed your fight, didn't you? Evaine silently communicated.

Not to worry, mistress. I'm only slightly wounded, and the ranger finally realizes that I'm not one to be trifled with. Evaine snickered at the haughty tone in his mental message.

"Let's just say that we men understand each other a little better," Ren smiled, revealing a split lip.

Ha. He probably thinks he won, too!

Evaine couldn't help but laugh out loud at Gamaliel's silent sneer.

After considerable scolding and patching of wounds, Andoralson served the remaining portions of the rabbit. "If you'd been here on time, you could have had a delicious supper. But now you'll have to settle for rabbit jerky." The druid huffed in disgust. Ren and Gamaliel had both eaten worse, and thought the meat was wonderful despite its chewiness.

As the two men ate, the rest of the group inventoried their supplies and added the few useful items of equipment left by the werewolves. The spoils from defeated enemies were always welcomed.

The five companions crawled into their bedrolls under the dark, threatening sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Miltiades took up his normal watch. All slept fitfully, dreaming of the unknown horrors that awaited them.

At dawn, all were awake and packed for the trail. Transformed again into a giant cat, Gamaliel obliterated their tracks. Miltiades summoned his magical ivory steed, and the companions started out through the woods determinedly.

They rode under the troubled sky for several days, following the coast of the Moonsea. They braved a steady, chilly rainfall the entire second day. As they approached within a few miles of Zhentil Keep, the group made a wide arc around the dark city.

Zhentil Keep sat like a blood-gorged spider on the western edge of the Moonsea. The walled city was easy to avoid, and fording the Tesh River was little trouble. While the others had to swim against the current, leading their horses across, Miltiades and his enchanted ivory mount simply walked along the river bottom and emerged wet on the other side.

Beyond the evil city, a wide road wound to the south. Evaine had insisted on taking that route, but on the first day of travel, the druids became concerned.

"It's rained here far more than normal, even for the conditions around here the last few months. The ground has become unusually swampy," Andoralson said.

"Notice the fiddlehead ferns, the jewelweed, and the jimsonweed. They don't grow in this type of environment. Something is seriously disturbing the balance of nature here." The druids looked more and more worried as the expedition pressed on. The druids were convinced they were witnessing harbingers of greater danger.

Ren rode far ahead of the group, explaining that he wanted to scout. He refused to admit to himself that he was trying to hide his mood.

With a thud of horse's hooves, Evaine galloped ahead to ride at Ren's side.

"What's bothering you, Ren?" the sorceress asked.

"Using your magic to read my mind, wizard? Why don't you tell me what I'm thinking?"

Evaine ignored his surly reply. "I know you and I got off to a rough start. We'll probably never be close friends, but we certainly could be loyal comrades. Everyone can sense your nervousness. What's wrong?"

Ren could no longer hide his frustration. "We're getting farther and farther away from the Moonsea and that red tower. That's what's wrong. Every minute I delay, my friends could be dying. You're the wizard, and I agreed to follow your lead in matters of magic, so we're going south when everything in me screams to find that large area of darkness, wade into the evil, and rescue my friends no matter what the cost. That's what's wrong." The frustration and concern on his face spoke more than his words.

The sorceress spoke calmly. "The same urges driving you to forge bravely into the darkness and danger tell me we must be patient and learn what we're facing. That means investigating the smaller blackness first. Let me tell you a story, and maybe it will convince you.

"Most people who want to learn the ways of magic apprentice themselves to powerful wizards. Some attend formal schools. In my case, I apprenticed myself to a wizard who lived just a few days' ride from here. Sebastian was incredibly skilled in the magics of conjuration and summoning. I learned amazing powers from him.

"One day, after researching a spell for over a year, my kindly, brown-haired mentor left his home and laboratory to cast an experimental spell. He said he would return in a week. Twelve days later, he dragged himself up to our doorstep, white-haired and looking seventy years old. He had attempted some type of summoning spell that went wrong. Life was never the same after that. He was still kind and giving, but he refused to talk about that one particular spell.

"The things he taught me from then on were powerful defensive magics. He wouldn't admit it, but I think he expected us to be attacked somehow. Three years later, I buried him. I never learned what happened during his disappearance, but I'm certain that whatever dwells in that small patch of darkness is involved. His old friend might be able to tell us something. As a warrior, you realize that knowing your enemy can mean the difference between winning and losing a battle."

Looking to Ren, Evaine could see the indecision on his face. "I'll make a deal with you. We'll ride to my home tomorrow. We'll need two days more to get to the small patch of darkness. The day after that, no matter what I find there, we head straight for the red tower, wherever it lies, and I promise that Gamaliel and I will follow your orders to the letter. Now, can you ask for more than that?"

Ren sighed. "It's a fair bargain." He tried to soften his expression. "From what I've noticed of you, you're obviously one who plans carefully. I can't say I've disagreed with your leadership so far."

They smiled at each other, comfortable in their agreement. Slowing the horses, ranger and sorceress waited for the others to catch up. A silent party rode hard until sunset.