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Pools of Darkness hop-2 Page 20

by James M. Ward


  Back on the wall of Phlan, a chuckling cleric gave new instructions to waiting messengers.

  Marcus mentally ordered the tree-minions to form living ladders of vegetation. Hundreds of the tree-creatures wound themselves together and thousands of evil soldiers began to climb slowly upward and onto the walls of Phlan. Tarl shouted orders for the clerics to attempt spells of control on the trees, but to no avail. Defenders slashed away with swords and spears to no effect. Halberds and axes chopped into mouldy bark, but too many monsters were scaling the walls.

  Trumpets were sounded and entire wall sections abandoned. Tarl now shouted the order for Phlan's secret defense tactic.

  As the mass of Moander's tree-minions crawled over the walls in victory, Marcus shouted at them gleefully.

  "I've done it! I've beaten them! Now I, Marcus of Thay, own that city. My troops will scale all the walls. By tomorrow, I will be a demigod and these pathetic humans will bow to me!"

  Far below Marcus, a brown-robed wizard had witnessed Thar's death. Porter was next in line for command, and now he rejoiced at his good fortune. He planned to lead the wizards to the outer limits of catapult range, allow the defenders to fire one volley, then order a retreat. But as his unit approached the gate, he was surprised that not a single arrow greeted them.

  Porter scanned the walls, seeing no one. During their approach, he had seen hundreds of defenders running from the gates to help defend against the tree-minions. The wall was all but deserted now, even though that seemed unlikely.

  "Mage Whills, fly up there and scan the towers. Make sure your spell against arrows is working."

  Whills took a moment to activate a spell, then flew onto the wall above the Death Gates. "No one here, sir. They're all fighting Moander's lot!"

  Porter was furious. This brief attack wasn't supposed to end like this. There was nothing here to fight! He wanted to retreat, but knew what would happen. Marcus would be furious if one of his leaders challenged his strategy.

  The massive Death Gates were intact, magically reconstructed after Marcus's last attack. The doors were locked. Two quick spells popped them open with two loud thuds. Porter had made his decision.

  "Alright, men! Let's charge in and see what we find. Ogres, trolls, advance! We're right behind you."

  As thousands of pounds of monster flesh surged into the long tunnel, a telepathic message reached the men and wizards under the trap doors of the empty towers on both sides of Death Gates. A warrior-priest of Tyr swinging a glowing blue hammer was the first to leap out of the hidden trap door. Hundreds of warriors surged out of the hidden rooms, raining death on the monsters in the tunnel. Tarl's hammer seemed to take on a life of its own, striking on every swing and killing with every blow.

  In his ecstasy, Marcus barely noticed the woman astride a magnificent horse riding toward him in the sky. The female and her mount were both bathed in a faint, violet glow. "Who dares come to spoil my victory?"

  "I dare!" Shal screamed, "You stole my city and you have assaulted my people. Today, you die!"

  She raised her arm, and a sparkling purple bolt of energy arced from her hand to strike Marcus.

  It bounced away harmlessly.

  "Tarnelth, whocsom, pellarz!" Marcus's voice boomed.

  Gale-force winds buffeted Shal and her magical horse. Her hair and cloak whipped about, but the battering winds caused no real harm. The beast snorted, yet easily controlled its flight.

  A flick of Shal's wrist created a dark purple mist under the nightmare's hooves. The swirling, turbulent vapor looked oily and deadly even to the Red Wizard. Marcus turned the nightmare and flew higher, thinking he would escape the mist. But the vapors followed as if they had a mind of their own.

  A red fireball and a lightning bolt surged out of his hands toward Shal, whizzing past harmlessly.

  The sorceress was shocked at his ability to cast two spells at once, but didn't show her surprise to the enemy. She told herself to investigate that talent later.

  Through the winds that still buffeted her, Shal cast disintegration magic at the nightmare. The powerful spell turned the corrupt creature to dust. Marcus hadn't bothered to protect his mount against such spells. He began to sink into the purple mist beneath him.

  A quick wave of his hand stopped his fall, and the wizard now hovered on wings of flame. He grimaced and shrieked the words of a new spell. Behind Shal, an inky spectral form took shape.

  Expecting the worst, the sorceress took her best shot and cast her most powerful spell.

  "I'm blind!" Marcus screamed in fear. "Gallen tor supto!"

  Marcus vanished. In his panic, he had teleported himself back to the red tower.

  The deadly purple fog dissipated harmlessly.

  What had been a desperate moment for Phlan was turning in its favor. Shal had temporarily defeated Marcus, leaving the monsters, tree-minions, and hired soldiers without a leader. Brittle was busy following his own course of action.

  The minions of Moander, once perfect warriors, were now snapping like dry kindling. Although tireless and deadly, they lacked intelligence. When ordered to scale the wall, they had succeeded with some effort. The entire army now stood between the outer and inner walls-walls coated with black, sticky oil. Now those same walls were set ablaze by the defenders of Phlan. The intense heat dried and cracked the protective ooze coating the trees, withered leaves, and ignited branches. As the mindless minions stood between the two walls, branches and trunks ignited, charred, and toppled.

  A deafening clatter and rattling arose. Three hundred and one skeletons swinging huge axes in their bony hands rushed to the attack. The skeletons gave no thought to the fungus or poisons of the tree-monsters. They ignored the searing heat of the flaming walls; the stone-hard bones of their skeletal frames felt nothing. Every warrior chopped at the minions of Moander while the abominable tree-creatures mindlessly waited for orders that should have come, but never did.

  Marcus had abandoned his troops, leaving them to die on the field. High in the red tower, the wizard's rantings, still magically enhanced, were punctuated only by the insults he hurled at the pit fiend. He ordered the fiend to restore his vision. The tower shook to its foundation, rattling the city of Phlan far below.

  15

  Encroaching Evil

  "That's the whole story. I found the pool hidden in a dark chamber in the red tower, and some horrid, evil entity spoke to me. I haven't been that terrified in ten years. I didn't think anything was capable of detecting me while under that spell. Now I won't rest until I learn what that gods-forsaken horror was."

  The companions rode in silence for long minutes. All were stunned by Evaine's experience while under her spell. At every turn, it seemed that their mission became more mysterious and dangerous.

  Evaine herself broke the silence. "Although we now know where the pool is hidden, we still don't know exactly where Phlan is. I sensed its energy, so I think we can assume it's near the tower. But we still have too many unanswered questions. For that reason, I propose we investigate the smaller cloud of darkness. I still think it's our best chance of learning enough to get through this bizarre quest alive."

  The horses were trotting along at a quick pace, led through the dense woods by Ren and Stolen. They had purposely avoided the main roads to reduce any chance of being tracked. Ren called a sudden halt.

  "We're certain the red tower conceals the pool of darkness. There's a good chance it hides Phlan as well. So at the risk of seeming insistent-why shouldn't we head toward the greater evil and clean it out?" Ren asked.

  "Even if you insist, Ren, I won't follow you into the inky darkness surrounding the red tower. I'm not sure I'll come out of there alive a second time. Checking out the smaller evil only puts us a day off schedule." Evaine's voice revealed only composure and logic.

  "My friends could be dead in another day! How can I take that chance? We have to get to the red tower soon! Who knows what horrors they might be facing?" Ren's face turned red as he tried to con
trol his emotions. Stolen whinnied quietly.

  "I know you're worried." Evaine turned to the others. "This is a tough decision. Since all our lives are at stake, I think we should put this to a vote. What say you?"

  Andoralson spoke first. "I can see both sides of your arguments," he said. "Ren, I know you're concerned, but I think we should take a day and follow Evaine's instincts. Then, no matter what we find, we'll head for the red tower." The druid looked around, waiting for the others to respond.

  Miltiades was next. "Tyr has given me a mission. How I accomplish that mission is part of his test. All successful military commanders understand that knowing the enemy's secrets can determine the outcome of a battle. I believe we should follow Evaine."

  Talenthia was visibly torn over this decision. She wanted to side with Ren, but she was frightened. "I guess I have to agree with my cousin. Evaine hasn't led us astray yet, so if she wants to check out the other area, and it doesn't take too long, let's do it. I wouldn't want to charge into a trap like a pack of scared rabbits. Sorry, Ren." The druid guided her horse over near the ranger and slipped a trembling hand into his.

  Gamaliel, in his favored cat form, was perched on a tree stump near Evaine, listening carefully. Without even asking, the group knew his vote.

  Ren grasped Talenthia's hand tightly. His anguish was visible as he rubbed his forehead. "Alright. I guess I lose this one. Let's keep moving. We'll stop for a rest and something to eat in a few hours, then we'll ride hard until dark. At dawn, we'll move out again. I can only hope, for all our sakes, that this side trip works out for the best. Evaine, at our current pace, when do you think we'll reach our destination?"

  "If we don't run into any trouble, we can be there shortly after noon tomorrow. We're closer than you think."

  Wordlessly Ren turned Stolen and led the gallop through the woods. The others fell in behind. Evaine led Gam's tethered horse, and the giant cat silently darted through the underbrush, his pink nose alert to anything unusual.

  The party rode hard, and the day passed quickly. Twice Gamaliel stopped the group to listen for intruders in the woods. The first time, they discovered three small wolf cubs playing in the grass. The second time, Gamaliel stalked ahead and spied a troop of fourteen gnolls. Everyone waited silently until the gnolls were well out of range. Their caution saved them time and untold energy.

  As the companions traversed the woods, each was lost in his or her own thoughts. Ren had become increasingly agitated and short-tempered, Talenthia increasingly somber. She was frightened by the terrible events surrounding the journey. Andoralson tried to maintain an outward appearance of confidence, but inside, he was shaken.

  Evaine remained focused on the task at hand, but she became increasingly more serious. She no longer joked or laughed around the others, but instead buried herself in her spellbook whenever possible. The others still wondered what secret drove her to pursue the pools.

  Only Gamaliel and Miltiades maintained their equable dispositions. The cat remained protective of his mistress and sensitive to her moods, but the kitten in him kept him lighthearted. His spurts of playfulness-pouncing on leaves and batting at moths-were often the only humor to break up the somber mood. The paladin, stoic as ever, was the anchor holding this rocking shipload of adventurers together. Miltiades became a self-appointed morale officer and bolstered the small band at every chance.

  As darkness filled the woods, Gamaliel scouted ahead for a place to camp. The companions quickly settled into their familiar routine. Supper was quiet and all turned in early, lying close to the fire and each other. Gamaliel snuggled his giant, furry form against Evaine's back. The ever-stoic Miltiades kept a vigilant watch.

  Gamaliel awoke at dawn and roused his mistress. He stalked into the woods to find breakfast while the sorceress lay deep in thought. She had to find the pool of darkness. She had to diffuse its evil energy. But this one frightened her more than any of the pools she had encountered before. What bothered her most was that she didn't know why it troubled her so.

  Impatient to meet whatever lay ahead, Evaine flung back the blanket and rose to awaken the others. Gamaliel soon returned with two pheasants and turned them over to Andoralson.

  The meal cheered them a little, and Miltiades, experienced at inspiring troops before a battle, again offered words of encouragement.

  "All of you are expecting the worst. You are defeated before the battle even begins. Lighten your mental loads and your bodies will also be lighter. A man who is weighted down in battle is an easy target, like a wounded animal."

  No one discounted the wisdom of his words. By the time they had mounted up, all were feeling considerably lighter and more fully prepared to face their nameless foe.

  The journey through the forest was easy. Ren and the druids took turns leading the way, and they always seemed able to find animal trails or at least the lightest brush to push through. As the morning wore on and the companions approached the evil cloud, the nature of the forest changed for the worst. Talenthia noticed it first. Slumping over in her saddle, she was overcome by waves of unhealthy energy. Tears welled in her eyes.

  "Andoralson, can't you feel the forest suffering from evil? The blessings of nature are in danger. These trees are in pain." Talenthia wept, feeling the presence of evil forcing itself into the hearts and souls of the trees.

  Ren called a halt.

  "Notice the birds, Ren," Andoralson said soberly. "Crows and ravens, but no robins, sparrows, or finches. This has become a forest of evil."

  Talenthia held back her tears long enough to speak. "What has the power to corrupt a forest this way?"

  Andoralson tried to comfort her. "I don't know, Cousin-I just don't know. But we must press on."

  Talenthia held back her sobs, dismounted, and cast a spell of detection magic all around.

  "Talenthia, we have to move on," Ren said gently. She ignored the ranger until the spell was complete, then spoke with new determination.

  "You all go on, due north. The center of evil is there. I'll catch up. Don't argue-and don't worry about me. Perhaps I can do some good here while you carry on."

  The group tried to convince her to accompany them, but Talenthia sat in the grass as if she was rooted there.

  Finally, the others mounted up and moved on.

  The shadowy forest closed in around them. Huge, ancient oak trees rose high into the cloudy sky, but instead of proudly guarding the forest, they were weakened by strangling red vines that looked like blood-filled veins twisting along trunks and branches. The forest floor became increasingly buried in fungi of all types. Clouds of damp spores rose with every step of a horse's hoof. The companions wrapped rags around their mouths and noses to keep from breathing the fumes. Evaine fashioned a muzzle over Gamaliel's sensitive nose.

  They emerged into a small clearing. Toppled stones, dark and smooth and as tall as a man, lay scattered in a vague circle.

  "By the gods, what have they done?" Andoralson shouted in horror. Leaping off his horse, he rushed to the stones, knelt on the bare earth, and gently caressed one of the larger stones. "This was the grove of a druid. Miltiades, please help me raise these stones again. Ren, take Evaine and Gamaliel and ride ahead. I'll only be a few moments and then we'll follow. I can't leave until this is set right."

  Ren wasn't about to split the group up any further. "Druid, we can't wait. We have to keep moving if we're going to combat this evil, the thing at the very heart of all this destruction."

  "No, Ren, you and Evaine go on. I can't leave until I correct what has been defiled. Such desecration must be cured or this part of the forest could be forever cursed. Please, let me do this!"

  All could see the anguish overcoming Andoralson. Miltiades volunteered to stay with the druid and watch over him as he prepared his rites. The ranger looked at Evaine, then nodded. Against his better judgment, he turned his horse to the north.

  They rode for only a few minutes before Ren's rage overcame him. "Damn! I feel like this evil i
s doing its best to split us up and stop us! Is that possible, Evaine?"

  The sorceress sighed. "That's what evil does, Ren. It breaks up friendships, it tears apart lovers, it turns sister against brother. It can do so in the subtlest of ways. It needn't come in the form of serpents or evil armies. It can come as greed and jealousy. We must be careful not to let it influence us."

  Talenthia was still filled with the pain of the forest. She walked to a small rise encircled by tired, dying oaks. "My god, great Sylvanus, this forest is passing away. There is so much hurt, so much pain." She fell to her knees. The tears poured down her face, for the pain of the forest cut to her very soul.

  "What can I do? Compassionate Sylvanus, what can I, your humble servant, do?" Talenthia rocked back and forth on her knees, repeating her plea. Her hands clawed at the earth, scratched at the dead grass and soil. "This is not right! This is death encroaching on life. By Sylvanus's might, I will not let death triumph!" The druid screamed into the empty forest, her pain turning to anger.

  Smashing the ground with her fingers, Talenthia clawed deep into the earth. The black soil was richer here. A ray of hope glimmered in her thoughts. The evil had not penetrated the lifeblood of the woods. She closed her eyes and prayed, giving up her soul to the forest. Talenthia willingly freed her life essence. Her only thought was to capture the life that was being sucked out of the land and return it to the forest.

  The woods around her, the repressed children of nature, responded.

  A silent, intangible wave emanated from the kneeling druid. As it radiated outward, the grass, undergrowth, and trees rustled as they were touched by the healing rays. The blood-red, choking vines shriveled away, and the vegetation absorbed the moisture it so desperately needed. Grass and trees turned a vibrant green, wilted buds flowered and bloomed on the newly freed plants. The fresh scent of moist earth and sweet blossoms filled the air. Talenthia emanated a healthy energy that allowed the forest to thrive again.

 

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