monsters! The attackers were forced back, leaving their dead in the Broken Tower. Warriors, filled with pride, would later be heard saying they had been part of the victory at the Broken Tower. My great-great-Uncle Ezra was one of those! If he were here today, he'd be telling you to buck up! Show some pride! Show whoever stuck us in this damned cave what we're made of!'
The wizard thumped the bench with his cane as the crowd cheered. Garanos grinned at Tarl and Auranzath. Above the noise of the mob, he confided in the two men. 'These fine people seemed ready to surrender everything! It was going to be a tough fight to inspire them. Thanks be to the gods for sending you two along!' The trio smiled at the noisy crowd, then Tarl raised his hands for attention. When the mob settled, he ordered them all home with instructions to prepare for the following day and the coming fight. As the throng dispersed, Tarl thanked Garanos and Auranzath for their efforts. Grabbing his basket, the cleric headed for his own section of the city.
The citizens had a right to be upset. No one knew how or why the city had been abducted, and the horror of it was only beginning to take its toll.
A hundred yards ahead of Tarl stood his home-one of the most renowned places in Phlan. Denlor's Tower had seen conflict after conflict in the years of war. It was the outermost northeast point of the city. A wizard named Denlor had constructed its magical, blood-red walls overnight in the middle of the creature-infested ruins of old Phlan. The tower was designed as a symbol of strength and a challenge to attackers everywhere. Denlor's Tower also became a magnet for both evil and good spellcasters. Clerical and magical defenders of Phlan had flocked to the tower, trading lightning bolts, fireballs, mystical vapors of death, and other destructive magics in the darkness. After years of constant defeats for the evil shamans and wizards, Denlor was treacherously assassinated. Soon after Denlor's death, another powerful wizard arrived and took over the defense of the tower. Although new names were suggested for the structure, the sorceress insisted that the old one stand. No one argued with a sorceress who could slay dozens of orcs with a wave of her hand.
Tarl sighed as he thought about the first time he'd met Shal Bal of Cormyr, the sorceress who ruled the tower nowadays. Back then she was having some problems dealing with Denlor's death and other magical mishaps. Tarl was suffering from the loss of some of his fellow clerics. They made an unlikely pair, but together with Ren, another new-found friend, the trio conquered their own personal torments and helped rid Phlan of hundreds of monsters in the process. That was ten years ago. It seemed like yesterday.
The cleric blushed slightly as he thought of the way that the threesome's exploits had become famous in Phlan. They were honored heroes of the town. Any of them could have easily risen to be a ruling councilman, but these were honors they always refused. All three wanted only peace for Phlan and themselves.
The streets of Phlan were nearly deserted by the time Tarl entered Denlor's Tower. The door banged shut behind him, and he turned to secure the lock. 'Shal?' he called up the spiraling stairs. Gripping his basket, he raced up the stairs, two at a time, in search of his wife. He found her upstairs in her reading room. As he unpacked the basket, they discussed a topic the cleric had come to dread.
'Tarl, First Councilman Kroegel wants you to join the council. I think it's a good idea. Your temple leaders think it's a good idea. Phlan needs a strong leader on the council, and you're the best man for the job. If you don't take it, we might get stuck with Gormon on the council. And the only position he's suited for is chief of sanitation.'
Irritated, Tarl paced around the reading room and into Shal's spellcasting chamber. He thought much better on his feet, and he needed to think clearly right now. He wasn't good at resisting his wife. 'Shal, you know why. You've been asked to join the council as many times as I have. Please, let's not fight about this. We both know I'm a priest, not a politician. Besides, now that I'm Phlan's military advisor, I'll never get any rest. I can't juggle both positions.'
'Rest! Is that all you think about is rest? If ever Phlan needed you, it's now. Fiends and armies are threatening the city!'
Tarl stopped his pacing and went to her side. He tried to put his arms around his beloved wife.
'Don't even try it, cleric,' she snapped, shaking him off. Tarl was a big man, six feet tall and all muscle, but an old mishap with a magical wish had left him shorter than his wife and less muscled. When she didn't want to be touched, she usually got her way.
Shal's purple robes swished about her with a life of their own. Tarl smiled, thinking that something magical probably did give her clothes some animation. His mind wandered as he thought how wonderful it would be to spend some time as her clothing, wrapped around her firm body and feeling her every move. He sighed but was abruptly brought back to reality.
'Tarl, we aren't through arguing about the councilman's position.' Shal spoke in her most authoritative voice, waving a finger at him. It was the same finger that had launched purple fireballs and lightning bolts to halt ogres and giants in their tracks.
'Look, Kroegel gave me until the end of the week to give him my answer. Can't we forget about this for a while? Let's enjoy this peaceful interlude while it lasts. We both know an attack could come at any time.' Tarl had discovered the poppyseed cake in his basket and now held it up for Shal to see. Taking a bite, he teased her. 'Mmm, I'm really hungry!'
Shal saw through his diversion but allowed herself to succumb. She suddenly realized she was ravenously hungry. Striding over to her husband, she broke off a piece of cake and wrapped her arm around his waist. 'Don't think you'll get out of this discussion so easily next time,' she said softly.
'I know you far better than that. I wouldn't think of it.' He kissed her hair, and the couple sat down to dine on the bread, cheese, and apples from Tarl's basket.
Shal grew more and more quiet as they ate. Finally she looked at her husband with wide eyes. 'Tarl, I'm scared.'
The cleric leaned close and wrapped his arms around the sorceress. 'As long as I'm here, there is no force in this world that can hurt you. What's scaring you?'
Shal sighed. 'Just being here in this hole is enough to frighten anyone. Not knowing how or why we're here makes it worse. But I've used all the detection spells I know and haven't learned anything. The other wizards in Phlan are in the same predicament. You'd think that we'd be able to figure something out. I know that somewhere out there is a great evil ready to pounce on Phlan, and we're almost powerless to do anything about it.'
This worried Tarl. His wife usually showed more confidence. 'Come with me,' he whispered.
He led Shal through her casting chamber to their favorite balcony. Denlor's Tower was high enough to survey most of the city, and part of the Moonsea, too, had they not been deep in some cavern.
'Shal, what can I do to do to make you feel safe?' He could feel her tension and wished he could just rinse it away with a warm bath and a mug of tea. But this was more serious, and Tarl knew it. 'I don't mean the kind of safe the farmers get when they lock the door at night. Or the kind of safe my Aunt Dorinna gets when she puts that disgusting smelling mud all over her face.'
His last comment brought a giggle. 'Your Uncle Amis really hates that stuff. You don't like it much either, do you? Lately, I've been thinking about trying it. Maybe it'll keep me looking young.' Tarl rolled his eyes, but was glad to see some humor coming from his wife. He held her close.
'I want to make you happy-as happy as our lives will allow. It's hard being in the front of battles all the time. Half the time when we're hurling spells and fighting side by side, I'm terrified at the thought of you facing the same blades and awful creatures I face.'
Shal's chest heaved. 'I'm sorry I'm so upset. This whole mess is getting the better of me. The best we can do is to keep looking for a way to rescue the city.'
Tarl stroked his wife's hair and gently led her back inside. 'What you need is a good back rub,' he whispered. Shal smiled and sat down on the bed. As she tugged on her robe, a voice sounded in the street below.
'The alarm!' Tarl said, disappointed. He and Shal dashed about to gather weapons and prepare for battle. 'Sorry, love. I'll have to owe you that back rub.'
Shal laughed as they hurried out the door. 'Don't worry. I won't let you forget! Now, let's go see if we can't quash our enemies once and for all!'
