creature stumbled out of the shadows, clutching at its eyes. The thing appeared to have once been human but now was a disfigured shell of its former self. Sharp, elongated teeth protruded from its mouth like fangs; the nails on its withered hands had grown into talons. Its dried-out flesh, visible through tattered clothing, hung tight on its bones.
'A ghoul!' Corran drew his sword and attacked. His first blow severed one of its skeletal arms. Black liquid spewed from the stump. Sightless, thanks to Ghleanna's spell, the ghoul could only blindly lash out with its remaining claw in defense.
Durwyn joined Corran's side and swung his battle axe. He hit the creature in the side. The ghoul moaned and swiped its talons at the guard.
'Don't let it touch you!' Corran warned. With a mighty swing to the ghoul's neck, the paladin made quick work of the weakened creature. Its head fell to the ground and rolled several feet. Kestrel was glad it stopped at an angle that hid its hideous face.
'I take it you've faced ghouls before?' Ghleanna asked Corran as he and Durwyn cleaned the ghoul's foul blood off their weapons.
The paladin nodded. 'Several times. They're nasty creatures-their touch can paralyze. If you're killed by a ghoul, you'll become one too, unless it eats all your flesh first. They feed on corpses.' He glanced at the dead adventurers and orcs. 'It must have been attracted by the bodies. We should bury them before the sun fully sets, when the creatures will probably come out in droves. Where there's one there are sure to be more.'
'Do we have time?' Ghleanna asked. 'I'm almost out of spells, and we still need to find shelter for ourselves.'
'I hate to leave them here unprotected,' the paladin said. 'These heroes died noble deaths-their remains deserve better than to become ghoul fodder.'
Kestrel gestured toward one of the ruined buildings she'd studied earlier. 'If we move the adventurers in there and leave the orcs out in the street, perhaps the ghouls will be satisfied with the easy meal.' She expected Corran to dismiss the idea simply because she had suggested it. To her surprise, he agreed.
'We should also keep their equipment for our own use,' she added. 'It can't help them now.'
He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to change his mind. 'I suppose.'
They distributed the goods amongst themselves. For the time being, Ghleanna carried the vials, planning to examine them later to see if she could identify their contents. Durwyn added several dozen arrows to his supply. Corran offered Kestrel an ordinary-looking dagger Loren had been carrying. 'You seem to know how to use these.'
'Thanks.' She gestured toward the ring. 'I'll take that too, if no one minds. It won't fit either of you.'
'And it can be sold for a fair price when we return, right?' Corran said dryly. He glanced at the others, then tossed it to her. 'It's yours.'
She slid the dagger into a sheath on her belt and slipped the ring on her right middle finger where it wouldn't impede the dexterity of her dominant left hand.
They had just moved the last body into the makeshift crypt when a shout drifted out of another nearby building.
'Leave that alone! Hey-leave me alone! Scat! Scat, I tell ye! Git yer stinkin' carcasses outta here! Hey- help!'
They hurried off in the direction of the cries, following them to a well-fortified building that looked as if it might once have been an armory. A foul stench issued forth, one that reminded Kestrel of the undead bandit she'd seen last night beside Phlan's pool.
Within, they found a half dozen rotting, animated orc corpses in tattered clothing circling what appeared to be a peddler's wagon. Atop it, fending off the creatures with anything he could lay his hands on, perched a very irritated halfling. His leather armor seemed to deflect most of the zombies' claws, but a few scratch marks marred his arms and round, ruddy cheeks.
'Git back, I said!' He brained the nearest creature with a cast-iron frying pan, then tossed a basket over the head of another. 'Whew! Ye need some perfume!' He unstopped a vial and flung its contents in the eyes of a third.
Durwyn moved to engage the undead beings, but Corran stayed him. The paladin stepped forward. 'Foul creatures of darkness!' he called out in a commanding tone.
The zombies turned in the direction of his voice and staggered toward their new target, arms outstretched.
'Great,' Kestrel muttered. Now the creatures were coming to attack them. At least these things moved slowly. Just as she was about to draw the twin daggers from her boots, Corran held a silver symbol of Tyr aloft.
'Begone!' he cried. 'Trouble this man no more!'
The creatures moaned and tried to shield their eyes as they backed away. They shuffled jerkily toward a rear exit and out into the night. Within minutes the armory was free of their presence, though their odor lingered.
The halfling scrambled down from his perch and over to Corran. 'Thank ye, sir,' he said, removing his red knit cap and sweeping into a bow that revealed the start of a bald spot in the center of his thin brown curls. 'Nottle's the name. Purveyor of the finest equipment and goods in all Myth Drannor.' He straightened. 'An' who might ye be?'
'Corran D'Arcey, Defender of Tyr. These are my companions, Durwyn, Kestrel, and Ghleanna Stormlake.'
'Well met!' Nottle bowed again in greeting, then stooped to retrieve his merchandise. He hung the frying pan back on the wagon and picked up a quarterstaff from the floor. 'Usually I can fend off the beasts m'self, but t'night they got m'staff away from me.'
'This happens all the time?' Kestrel asked. 'Why do you stay?'
'Business is good here, m'dear,' he said. 'Adventurers comin' and goin', all thinkin' they're gonna strike it rich, then discoverin' they ain't as prepared as they thought they were. That's where I come in. Actually, the place has gotten a little less dangerous lately-them dreadful alhoon and phaerimm creatures have left this part of the city. The baatezu, too. 'Course, now we have the drow and undead to put up with, so it's not exac'ly paradise. Say, are ye needin' anythin? I'll cut ye a deal, seeing as Corran here saved my wagon just now.'
'Drow?' Ghleanna asked.
'Indeed, m'dear. They mostly stay below, in the dungeons, but I've seen a few here on the surface. At night, a'course.'
Kestrel shuddered. She'd never encountered a drow before, but she'd heard tales of the ruthless subterranean elven race. They were said to have dark skin, shockingly white hair, and no mercy.
'An adventuring band was killed today not far from here,' Corran said. 'Did you ever do business with them?'
'Athan's band? Sad thing, that-them gittin' killed. I hope they weren't friends of yers?' He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. 'Word is, the scarred mages got 'em.'
At the mention of scarred mages, a tingle raced along Kestrel's collarbone.
'Who are the scarred mages?' Though she asked the question, she wasn't sure she wanted to learn the answer. 'No one knows for certain. We jes' started seein' 'em one day. I think they got somethin' to do with the goings-on at the castle. Dunno why they killed yer friends, but I might be able to find out' He paused, a mercenary glint creeping into his dark eyes. 'That kinda information… it don't come cheap.'
'They weren't our friends,' Kestrel said. Corran looked at her sharply, probably ready to accuse her of betraying the heroes' memory or some nonsense like that, but she didn't care. This little guy was a talker, and if the ill-fated party had disfigured wizards after them, she didn't need word spread around town that friends of the dead adventurers had come to avenge them. 'We just saw them lying in the street and wondered.'
'Curiosity ain't generally healthy in Myth Drannor,' he said. 'But I owe ye for scarin' off those zombies, so if ye find yerselves needin' information, come to me. If I don't know the answer, I can usually find out.'
'Have you heard anything about a Pool of Radiance?' Durwyn blurted.
Gods! If he hadn't been wearing armor, Kestrel would have kicked the big, dumb warrior for being so obvious.
Nottle scratched his head. 'Can't say as I have.' He pulled a canvas tarp over the wagon. 'That some sort of
