When Ren was satisfied with the sharpness of his blade, he pulled his daggers, Left and Right, out of his boots and began working over their long edges. Miltiades picked one up, admiring its weight and balance. "These have saved my life more times than I can count," the ranger explained. "I have a feeling they'll be put to the test tomorrow."
"A thousand years ago, no one knew how to fashion such fine weapons," Miltiades said. "Most weaponsmiths spent their time perfecting the larger, deadlier blades, like swords and lances."
Ren couldn't resist the opportunity to brag. "In the hands of one who's skilled, these daggers are more deadly than a lance. Assuming we all survive the battle tomorrow, I'll be happy to teach you the fine art of throwing such a blade."
"I would like nothing more, Ren, but tomorrow, win or lose, I will forever be put to rest. Those of us who are walking dead sometimes know when our final day and hour will come. If we succeed tomorrow, I will rest in peace and honor. If we fail, I will again lie in unhallowed ground without the grace of my god."
"Wait a minute," Evaine called out in surprise. "You already know you're going to… um, cease to exist… no matter what you do?"
"Correct. But do not feel sorry for me. I am lucky to have this second chance. I only hope I can accomplish my mission and help all of you in the short time I have left." His voice was full of pride and strength.
The others were silent for a moment. The loyal skeletal warrior had become a trusted friend and ally.
Ren broke the somber moment. "Well, Miltiades, I don't understand what Tyr may have set aside for you, but you've been a good friend to all of us. If we have anything to say about your fate, I know we'd all agree that you've served with faith and honor."
If the warrior had been made of flesh, he would have blushed at the compliment. Instead he returned the praise. "I am lucky to have found friends like you to share my quest. The gods will smile on each of you." Miltiades arose and walked the perimeter of the camp, peering into the dark forest, preparing for his watch.
The companions settled in for the night, but sleep wouldn't come. The red tower loomed in all their thoughts. Ren worried about Shal and Tarl. Evaine tried to focus her thoughts on the dark pool. Miltiades and Andoralson both prayed for strength and guidance. Even Gamaliel slept only in fits, since the nervous energy in the camp was as tangible to him as cold rain. Now in comfortable cat form, he lay motionless on the blanket, blinking in the dim glow of the fire.
Finally, near midnight, the foursome drifted into restless sleep. Miltiades paced the small camp. Nothing would surprise the vigilant paladin.
Suddenly, a voice boomed out from the darkness. Miltiades gripped his sword. Gamaliel was instantly on his feet, ready to pounce, his tail fluffed out.
"Well, my fine pigs. Will you be visiting me tomorrow?"
The others were on their feet as a horrid face made of crimson flames exploded in the night sky. The writhing blaze formed the head of a human wizard.
"Behold your new lord, weaklings. I am Marcus, Red Wizard of Thay. I would expect a revelation such as this to frighten away most travelers. But I think the pigs I see in front of me will be knocking on my door tomorrow, anyway. You are either exceptionally brave or incredibly stupid. If you dare approach my tower, you will prove the latter. I am preparing a warm and highly magical welcome for you, my little piggies."
The image vanished as quickly as it had come. Gamaliel paced the camp, his fur standing on end, his great pink nose sniffing for any trace of the infiltrator. Evaine ordered him to lie down, rubbing his neck to settle him. "Wizards of Thay are well known for their preference for fire spells," she explained to the others. "That was a fairly common fire spell with an illusion thrown in. But what's really interesting is that he managed to affect us from miles away. That's not normal, and it's not easy. Obviously, we don't have the element of surprise." Gamaliel was now purring faintly, his eyes alert.
Miltiades still gripped his sword, scanning the trees for the slightest motion. Andoralson put a kettle of water on the glowing embers. "Since all of us are ready to jump out of our skins, I'm going to brew some herbs. I've got a mixture that might help us calm down and get some sleep. But it won't leave us groggy."
Ren questioned Evaine further about the Red Wizards. She explained that most were self-centered, arrogant, and only interested in personal gain. Their drive and greed made them extremely dangerous. They allowed nothing to stand in their way and wielded potent magic that could cut down enemies in a hurry.
Ren went to his saddlebags to fish out a metal box. "I think I have something that might help us." He opened the box, sorting out a variety of small vials and scrolls.
"These came from a dragon's horde-probably the property of some mage who fell prey to the beast. I've used them only rarely in the last ten years, but I've periodically taken them to an alchemist to learn whether they were still potent. The potions won't work on Miltiades since he can't drink them, but there's a scroll of protection against fire that should do the job. If he reads the scroll when we get to the tower, he'll activate the magic. We can all share the protection if we stay close to him.
"The rest of you should each take one of these little vials. The amber ones are potions of healing. I know you've all probably used them before-they'll heal you as quickly as any spell. The little red vials are potions of fire resistance. Wait until you think you might need it before drinking one, because they don't last long. But they'll protect you from all normal types of fire and most magical ones."
Ren passed two vials to each of his companions and handed the scroll to Miltiades. They were quickly stashed in convenient pockets and pouches. Everyone knew such potions might mean the difference between life and death in the battle to come.
The glowing coals of the fire began to hiss and spit as boiling water splattered over the side of the kettle. Andoralson moved the metal pot, briskly stirring in a handful of herbs. The smells of honey, clover, and orange rind soon overpowered the scent of wood smoke. Hot mugs of steaming tea were passed around.
A puzzled look crossed Ren's face. He stared at Evaine in the firelight. "Evaine, all of us have told the tales of why we're here, but you've always avoided the subject. We've got plenty of time now. How about letting us in on your story?"
Despite the red glow of the fire, the wizard's face grew pale. She stared into her mug as if searching for an answer, then sighed.
"I don't usually tell anyone my reasons for doing anything, but we've been through a lot together. I guess there's no harm in telling you why I'm in this fight." She settled against a tree stump and began her tale.
"I've been casting spells a lot longer than you might think. I may look as if I'm in my mid-thirties, but actually I'm much older.
"I once had incredible powers. I spent my entire life searching for magical tomes, items of strong magic, new spells, and fantastic creatures whose powers I might draw upon. I didn't care about anything but amassing more power. Sure, I would sometimes perform a service for someone who wanted to hire me, but there was always a price-an incredibly steep price.
"Then I learned about pools of radiance and pools of darkness. Being narrow-minded and overconfident, I decided I could harness the energy tied to the pools, or maybe experiment on the waters and create my own pools. I was warned away by sages and wizards of extreme age, but in my pride, I ignored all of their advice." The sorceress sipped at her mug.
"I managed to collect some water from a pool of radiance. What I didn't know was that the pool was in a transformation and was becoming a pool of darkness. The unstable liquid caused all my experiments to backfire, creating horrible side effects. A portion of my lab blew up. I was knocked out with the explosion. I woke up four days later, lying on the floor of my wrecked lab.