The specter continued to flit up and down and back and forth among the tables and seats in the temple, but in between oaths, it spoke in a gravelly voice. "Ferran Martinez… I am Ferran Martinez, ruling cleric of the sacred order of Tyr. I am the high cleric who remained in the temple while each of my men died, then died of starvation myself because I could not bear to go outside and face them. The bloody dragons came. They burned and killed and left our mission's work undone."
"What keeps you undead, Brother Martinez? What work remains undone? Can I be of help?" Ren and Shal just looked on as Tarl coaxed and soothed the agitated apparition.
The creature swung its phantom arms straight through the altar repeatedly, as if to strike it, but managed only to knock over several dust-coated candlesticks from the flurry of wind it generated. "Devils to the Abyss! Blast them in the fiery furnace! Sleep, men! Rest." He ended in a piteous scream.
"Brother Martinez, can I help?" Tarl repeated.
"The city of Phlan is dead! Monsters! Nothing but monsters! And the temple… it was never used. We had just finished building it, but there were no worshipers, only the clerics who built it. No peace in the city! No peace! Nothing but walking dead and unending nightmares… and the Lord of the Ruins, Tyranthraxus, still lives! Cursed creature from the pit! Power-grabbing blasphemer! May his soul rot!"
"They've reconstructed part of the city, Brother Martinez. It's civilized again. In fact, they call the new part Civilized Phlan."
" 'Civilized Phlan'?" the specter repeated, then grew still and floated closer to Tarl.
Tarl flinched involuntarily but stood firm. "Yes, and we're building a new temple to Tyr. That's why I came, to aid others in the construction and startup of the new temple."
"A new temple to Tyr? Then you can use the holy scale?" The specter whisked to the altar and pulled back a cloth. A silver balance, the balance of Tyr, God of War and Justice, stood on the table. "You will see that this gets used in the new temple?"
Tarl dropped down on one knee, both awed and humbled at the prospect of being given a second chance to deliver a holy symbol of his god to the temple in Phlan. "I will see that the scale sits proudly on the altar of the temple in Phlan."
"Then I can at last rest," said Ferran Martinez, "and so can our brothers." He held the scale out to Tarl, and Tarl wrapped it carefully in the cloth that had covered it for five decades.
And the apparition of Ferran Martinez reclined at the foot of the altar, with its ethereal hands folded across its chest, and vanished in a puff of mist.
Outside the keep, the grounds stood empty. No skeletal warriors walked the courtyard. In fact, the most noticeable thing was the sunshine that filled the sky over Thorn Island. The brilliant orange of the setting sun glistened unimpeded off the walls of the temple and the tall grasses that covered the courtyard.
6
When he heard that the three tavern brawlers had actually returned from Thorn Island, Porphyrys Cadorna left his dinner and rushed to the council chambers. He had waited anxiously before for the return of other groups, but he had always been disappointed. This time he had intentionally gone about his normal business, not wanting to waste his energies only to be left disappointed. But the three were back, and according to Cadorna's attendant, they claimed to carry proof of their success. The councilman positioned himself at the dais and signaled for the attendant to let them enter. He would inform the rest of the council of his victory when he was sure of their achievements and not before.
The cleric, Tarl Desanea, entered first, followed by the big man who called himself Ren o' the Blade and the young mage, Shal Bal. They were covered with dirt and grime, and from the big man's movements, Cadorna could see he was struggling with some great pain. Still, they made an impressive trio. Cadorna felt a chill run through him at the thought of meeting any of these three under less than amicable circumstances.
"So… what have you learned that will help us recover Thorn Island?" Cadorna asked after thumping his gavel twice, as if to silence a nonexistent audience.
"We have certain useful information, and with the help of the mighty Tyr, the Even-Handed, we have also succeeded in quelling the undead forces that made Sokol Keep uninhabitable," announced Tarl, bowing before Cadorna with as much formality as he could muster. "The resettling of Thorn Island may begin immediately."
This was splendid, more than Cadorna could have hoped for! He wanted to appear pleased, but he didn't want these three to think that their obligation to the court was so easily fulfilled. He gazed down from the dais, his eyes gleaming with avarice. "You say it is so, but how do I know it is so?" Cadorna waved his hand at the three in an encompassing gesture. "Even assuming you have been to the island, how can I be sure it is safe to send our citizens there to settle that blackened rock?"
Tarl proceeded to tell the story of their encounters at the keep, with Ren and Shal occasionally adding details. They described the odd triangular medallion they found on the frog and the humanoids' strange rantings about the Lord of the Ruins and "power to the pool." They deleted mention only of Shal's Staff of Power.
Cadorna could hardly contain his excitement. He had manipulated these pawns perfectly, gaining a foothold with the Lord of the Ruins by warning him of their mission and earning the trust of the three by alerting them to the likelihood of encountering orcs or hobgoblins. And they had even brought him new information about the Lord of the Ruins and the magical stones he was seeking! Perhaps, one day, these three might even be able to find such stones or the lair of the Lord of the Ruins for him… But first things first. He still needed proof of their day's work-perhaps a little something to add to his own coffers. "What you have told me is good news indeed, but how do I know these things are true?" Cadorna prodded.
"We bear artifacts, magical artifacts, from the armory and from the Tyrian Temple at Sokol Keep." Tarl held out the scale. "This is a treasured holy artifact. I am sworn by the late Brother Martinez to donate it to the temple in Phlan." Ren produced the dagger and Tarl the hammer they had found in the armory. "And these are the magical items. Even now you will notice a faint glow…"
Cadorna pulled back as Tarl moved the hammer toward him for his examination. "Yes… yes, I see." Cadorna hated blunt objects. He had no interest in the hammer, but the dagger would be his to use or trade, a small token from the council for sensing the exact nature of the dangers at Sokol Keep and sending exactly the right party to tame the island. "You may keep the hammer for your efforts," he pronounced beneficently. "The dagger you will place on deposit with the court attendant before you leave. And, of course, the scale you will relay to your temple."
What a shame, thought Cadorna, that the solid silver balance cannot also be confiscated, but with the cleric's testimony a matter of council record, he dare not risk it. Cadorna eyed the throne intensely before going on. "And the island-has the shadow lifted?"
"Yes," answered Shal excitedly. "As we left, the afternoon sun was shining gloriously on the cliffs. The whole bay looks different-"
"You needn't babble on," Cadorna said sternly. "I'm satisfied that you've fulfilled the goals of this mission. In fact, you all deserve further reward, but I will not know the verdict of the full council with regard to such rewards as you may have coming for at least another day. In the meantime, I'd like you to think about the possibility of completing a small task for me one day soon. I happen to believe you are the perfect party for the assignment."