"This is absurd!" Daile exclaimed in exasperation. "I can't believe we've journeyed all this way and been through… through so much just to end up locked in a room full of moldering old junk." She kicked a broken table out of her way. Feeling weary, she climbed the marble dais and plopped down into the massive onyx throne. It was so large that her feet swung freely in the air. Each of the throne's arms ended in gnarled, fiendish claws. Daile gripped them tightly in frustration.
The right claw moved.
She sat up with a jolt, fearing the throne was enchanted. Then she realized that the stone claw was simply attached to the arm of the throne by a small, nearly invisible hinge. Curious, she lifted the claw.
A low grating sound rumbled through the chamber. Daile gave a small cry as the throne lurched beneath her. All watched in astonishment as the entire dais slid to one side, revealing a spiral staircase leading down into darkness.
"I knew that would happen," Daile lied with a crooked grin.
The songlike trilling in Kern's mind was strong. They were close to the hammer. Very close.
"I recognize this place." Miltiades spoke softly as the five moved stealthily down the dim passageway. "We are near the cavern where Phlan was imprisoned by the Red Wizard years ago."
The passageway bent sharply to the left. Suddenly the ceilings and walls dropped away. The group found themselves standing at the head of a flight of stairs, gazing out over a cavern bathed in a crimson glow.
"Tyr have mercy!" Kern whispered.
The vast cavern was filled with undead.
Corpses in every imaginable state of decay writhed below, as if performing some horrible mockery of a ballroom dance. So numerous were the refugees from the grave that Kern couldn't even spot the floor. Withered mummies covered with parchment-dry skin, bloated zombies dragging slimy entrails, and skeletal beasts baring feral fangs dotted the throng. Loose skulls rolled around the floor, nipping at heels, while severed arms scuttled through the crowd, trying to attach themselves to other undead beings.
These were the denizens of the coffin-walls, Kern realized. He gripped his enchanted warhammer. "I want to thank you all for coming this far with me," he said to the others, his green eyes solemn.
"You're not thinking of going down there, Kern!" Listle said with a horrified expression. "I know you've had some dumb ideas before, but next to this, an ogre looks like a genius."
Kern swallowed his misgivings. "I have to go ahead, Listle. It's my destiny. But all of you can head back to the surface. There must be an exit other than through the throne room."
"No, paladin." Sirana laid a hand on his arm. "I made a promise to you. I intend to keep it."
"I, too, will stay at your side, Kern," Miltiades murmured in his sepulchral voice. "It was for this mission that Tyr raised me once again from the grave. It is my duty."
Daile shot Listle a fey grin. "I don't want to be the only one missing out on all the fun," she told the elf.
Listle rolled her eyes in vexation. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but…" She sighed deeply. "Count me in, you ogre-brained oaf."
"Thank you," Kern said gruffly.
The five started down the stairwell.
The undead mob jabbered exultantly. Kern raised his warhammer as they descended. Suddenly he was no longer afraid of his destiny, no longer afraid of failure. All that mattered was that he try his best. As the animated corpses surged forward, Kern whispered a brief prayer to Tyr.
Suddenly the undead in the fore stumbled backward, shrieking in agony. A dozen of them crumbled into fine yellow dust.
"Kern, look at your shield!" Listle cried.
The plain shield of beaten steel that Miltiades had given him was now glowing with a holy light.
Miltiades laughed, a strange sound echoing inside his armor. "Yes, Kern, that's it. Open yourself to Tyr's power. You've taken the first step down the path toward being a paladin. The minions of evil will not dare stand before you."
Miltiades' own shield erupted in azure light, adding its strength to Kern's. The triumphant cacophony of the undead quickly changed into shrieks of terror. They fought past each other to get away from the searing light. Those caught in its radiant beams burst apart into clouds of bone dust.
Shields before them, Kern and Miltiades cut a wide swath through the cavern, Listle, Daile, and Sirana following close behind. The undead howled in fury, but none dared to approach the holy ward surrounding Miltiades and Kern. Suddenly the vast archway of the nave loomed before the adventurers.
Well met, Hammerseeker, a vast and terrible intellect announced from the darkness. Have you come to bow to me before you face your doom?
"Show yourself," Kern called out.
As you wish, the creature crooned wickedly.
The shadows swirled and parted. Something stepped into the light.
"An osyluth!" Sirana hissed. "A fiend from the Nine Hells, but like none I have ever seen."
The others could not take their eyes from the creature that towered over them. Grub-white skin was pulled tautly over the osyluth's bony, humanlike limbs. Pinprick eyes burned hotly in its skull-mask face. Behind the osyluth lashed a curved, many-jointed tail, ending in a barbed tip oozing a thick yellow fluid. In the half-light, Kern caught a glimpse of what looked like a fine silver chain attached to the creature's abdomen, stretching back into the blackness of the nave.
Your doom is upon you, youngling. The osyluth spat venomously.
There was no time to react as the monstrous creature raised a spidery hand and hurled a sphere of shadow. The orb struck the adventurers, bursting into a thousand pieces of ebony. Kern blinked and saw that his armor was covered with a fine dusting of blue cobwebs; his unmagic had counteracted the osyluth's spell.
But the others had not been so fortunate. Listle, Daile, Sirana, and Miltiades all stood perfectly motionless, frozen in midaction. They were not the only ones. The entire cavern had fallen into silence. The throng of undead was frozen as well. Kern was the only one moving in the deathly quiet cavern.
Except for the osyluth.
So, you dare to resist my magic, do you, youngling? The creature scuttled forward, raising a huge, cruelly tipped spear. That is of little moment to me. It will be all the more satisfying to eat your living flesh.
It thrust the spear downward. Kern barely had time to deflect the blow with a swing of his warhammer. The two weapons clashed in a spray of sparks. Hammerseeker and Hammerwarder circled each other. The osyluth lunged again, but Kern blocked the blow with his glowing shield.
You are skilled in battle, thief. The osyluth hissed.
"Why do you call me that?" Kern cried, swinging his warhammer.
The fiend scuttled out of the hammer's reach. Because that is what you are. The osyluth's mental message brimmed with loathing. You have come to steal that which is not rightfully yours.
"The hammer belongs to Tyr!" Kern shouted angrily, ducking the creature's spear.
That is not true, youngling. Eons ago, Tyr stole the hammer from my master, Bane. It was Bane who forged it. The hammer does not belong to your accursed god.
"You lie!" Kern shouted. He swung his warhammer wildly, but the blow went wide.
No, youngling, I do not. You know in your heart that I speak the truth.
Kern shook his head dizzily. The osyluth was lying. It had to be lying.
Doubt flickered in Kern's heart. At the same moment, the light emanating from his shield wavered, dimmed, then went out. With a cry of rage, Kern dropped the shield and gripped his hammer in both hands. "You lie, fiend!" he screamed. Fiercely, he swung his hammer at the osyluth.