"So?" Neeshka asked, falling in step beside her. "What were the two of you doing up there?"
Kayla cast an anxious glance at Casavir's back, but he was speaking intently to Khelgar.
"Just talking," she answered.
"All that time?" the tiefling purred.
"Yes."
"About what?" Neeshka was persistent, if nothing else.
"West Harbor, mostly," Kayla shrugged, "though he told me about his first days here."
"So how come you're wearing his cloak?" the ever-observant tiefling asked.
"Because he's wearing mine," Kayla sighed. The thief would ferret it out of her anyway, so she might as well just get it over with. "We traded. The enchantment on the Harvest Cloak is more useful to him than it is to me, so he wears it. It's the same reason you got the Boots of Tumbling and Grobnar didn't."
"No," Neeshka disagreed, "the reason I got the boots is that we hadn't met Grobnar yet. You gave him the cloak because you wanted him to have it."
Kayla shrugged again. "It seemed a fair trade. This cloak is warm."
"So," the tiefling said, "let me see if I've got this right. You gave him a magic cloak, and he gave you a smelly old horse blanket. Some fair trade!"
"Oh, all right." Kayla took a breath to steady herself. "I also got a kiss out of it."
"See!" Neeshka squealed. Kayla elbowed her in the ribs, nodding at the paladin's back.
"See," Neeshka whispered, "I told you he didn't have any chastity vows."
"Listen, Neesh," Kayla hissed, "it wasn't that kind of kiss. If you must know, I started it. I gave him the Harvest Cloak because I thought it would give his powers a boost. He didn't want to take it, but he did, in the end. He gave me his cloak so I wouldn't freeze. He was fastening it himself, and his face was right there, and he'd just shaved, and, well, I figured I could use the excuse to kiss it. I just wanted to see what it felt like. He asked me why I did it, I said it was a thank you for the cloak, and he kissed my cheek back. That was all."
"So what was it like?" Neeshka asked softly.
"Nothing I want to talk about with you." Kayla was positive about that one.
"That good?" Neeshka's voice was dreamy.
She's a tiefling, Kayla thought. She probably hasn't had an awful lot of affection in her life.
"You would have hated it," Kayla said. "You'd have itched like mad."
"I bet!" the tiefling giggled. "Anyway, it looks like he's in a talkative mood today. Might as well take advantage of it. There's a couple questions I wanted to ask a paladin, but I've never met one who didn't want to smite me. Back in a bit."
With that, Neeshka wedged herself between Casavir and Khelgar. Casavir drew away from her, nearly stumbling on some loose stone, but Khelgar fell back, giving the paladin and the tiefling room to walk side by side.
"So, Casavir," Kayla heard Neeshka say. "I can call you that, right?"
"If you must," he said coolly. Kayla suppressed the urge to smack him in the back of the head.
"It looks like we're going to have to put up with each other for a while, so maybe we shouldn't be strangers."
The paladin made no response, so Neeshka plowed on.
"Maybe if we got to know each other a little better, it wouldn't be so hard to be around you."
"It's in our blood..." he paused, looking at her.
"Neeshka," the tiefling supplied.
"It's in our blood, Neeshka," he said. "I do not know if further familiarity will help."
"It wouldn't hurt, though," she went on, undeterred. "Would it? I mean, you make me itch, but I don't make you itch, right?"
"I can bear it," he answered stoically.
"Anyway," she went on, "there's a lot of things I don't know about paladins... like everything. Maybe if you told me a bit about it, it wouldn't bother me so much."
"It would bore you," he warned.
"Nah," the tiefling dismissed it, "I'm all horns... er... ears."
"Many people believe that we are called to serve our gods when we begin to become adults, but that is not true. A paladin's powers begin to manifest at that age, and most heed the call then, but from the moment of our birth, we are bound to our calling."
"Is that why you find paladins in villages that don't even have churches?" Neeshka asked. Kayla was surprised at her insight.
"Yes," he answered.
"So what do you have to do?" Neeshka asked. "I mean, what kind of lives do you have to lead?"
Casavir was silent a moment, but Neeshka waited.
"We must be an example of our faith," he said at last. "We must adhere to a code of conduct, and behave honorably at all times. Specific duties vary with the deity who claims us, but every paladin must put the lives and wellbeing of others above his own. Paladins of Torm value duty above all else, while those of Helm revere vigilance. Paladins of Ilmater ensure that all creatures receive the mercy that is their due while we of Tyr strive for justice... though we must be dutiful and merciful as well. Other gods call paladins, it is true – Lathander, Selune, Mystra, even Sune – but most serve the Triad, Tyr, Torm, and Ilmater."
"So," Neeshka said. "You belong to Tyr, so you have to be honorable and just, and you have to be willing to sacrifice everything so that other people can receive fair treatment. Ugh. I thought we tieflings had it tough."
"I do not follow," Casavir replied, clearly puzzled.
"Nobody expects tieflings to be well-behaved," Neeshka chuckled. "And the horns are a dead give-away. But paladins don't show it on the outside, so you have to just suck it up and be nice, and nobody even knows what you're giving up."
"I've never felt it to be a burden," the paladin protested.
"Well, no," she admitted, "but it is. I mean, there are so many things you can't do. You can't drink, you can't swear, you can't help yourself to the coins you found at the bottom of some slimy merchant's purse. You can't even... you know."
"You are mistaken, Neeshka," Casavir began, then quickly corrected himself. "We can't steal, it is true, but we are permitted to drink in moderation, though we may not become intoxicated, and even paladins swear, though we do try not to do so offensively. And no, I don't 'know.' What else are we not permitted, by your reckoning?"
"Well," Neeshka began. Kayla held her breath. She had a sinking feeling that she knew what was coming next, but she didn't know how to interrupt tactfully, and she was a bit curious... not that she had any personal interest, of course. And she didn't, she realized. No matter what Neeshka said, unless Casavir preferred his women flat-chested and fish-belly pale, he would not be interested in her.
"I mean, suppose you met some nice girl at a tavern," the tiefling continued, the soul of innocence, "you couldn't even ask her up to your room to show her your holy symbol."
"That," Casavir said dismissively. "No, we may not indulge simply for the sake of indulging, but we are permitted to marry... and..."
Neeshka waited. Though Kayla could not see Casavir's face, she could see his ears, and they were very red.
His sigh was exasperated, Kayla thought, and she couldn't blame him.
"Neeshka, I see through your ruse," he said at last. "You no doubt witnessed my unfortunate encounter with Qara this morning, and you probably wonder how many rounds of 'Tempt the Paladin' you can play before I start smiting things. I swear to you now that, while I have taken no chastity vow, I most sincerely do not appreciate that kind of attention. No, Neeshka, I am not tempted, nor am I even amused by it. I would thank you for never mentioning it again."
Kayla could see Neeshka's grin.
"You don't have to worry about that from me," the tiefling said. "I can hardly stand to look, let alone touch, but thanks for taking the trouble to explain it. It's good to know you're still human. Maybe you guys aren't the bags of bolts I thought you were. But one more question, and it won't upset you, I promise."
He sighed again, but waved his hand for her to continue.
"How come you don't see any female paladins?" she asked.
"I have known several," Casavir said. "Though, as you so astutely observed, we don't wear it on the outside. Perhaps you never knew."
"Could be," Neeshka admitted. "After all, it isn't as if I break out in a rash every time one of you walks by. Oh wait. I do. Well, maybe it's just that female paladins don't bother me so much. Do male tieflings bother you?"
"I don't know any," Casavir answered. Kayla could only admire Neeshka's skill. She had the answer she wanted, and Casavir was none the wiser.
"Neeshka," he said, "we are getting closer to the area where we must be silent. Please send your leader forward so I may brief her on what to expect."
Neeshka stepped back to walk between her and Khelgar.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered. "No chastity vow. Go on, now, and I want all the details."
Kayla just shook her head, but she did step forward to take her place by the paladin's side.
"Logram will have placed sentries," Casavir said. "There will likely be barricades. We must strike fast, and strike hard. None may escape. I have briefed Khelgar, but you should know this, too. Order your ranged weapons on scouts first, archers second. No word of our coming may reach Logram, or we'll have every orc ever spawned waiting at the door. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Casavir," she replied, amused that he had taken over leadership of the approach.
And why not, Kayla reckoned. He's done this before... well, not this, but he certainly knows what he's doing. In this, at least, he should lead us.
Casavir stopped suddenly, thrusting out his arm to both halt her movement and silence her. He appeared to be listening to something.
Inexplicably, he started running.
"Fall back!" he cried. "Khelgar! Follow me!"
Khelgar nearly knocked her over in his haste to obey. Kayla blinked. She had heard nothing that would cause either paladin or dwarf such alarm, but she readied her mace, nonetheless.
Casavir leapt down the trail, casting both shield and hammer aside and drawing his greatsword as he ran. Khelgar followed, dropping his hammer and taking his axe in both hands.
Kayla heard Casavir's battle cry as the two warriors rounded a bend in the trail. Kayla followed at a run, her mace in her hand.
Khelgar and Casavir faced perhaps a half dozen of the creatures. They were spiders, she knew, living things, yet they looked almost mechanical. Their silver-gray bodies glinted in the sunlight. They were hairless, unlike any spider Kayla had ever known, and they were fast. She could not say whether they were metal-plated or if their chitin had simply grown in razor-sharp ridges, but each of their legs was sharpened fore and aft with blades, and each of their massive abdomens bore a dozen, standing at angles to their bodies. If she had thought the spiders of West Harbor large, these were monstrous. The alien mage had summoned spiders the size of ponies, but these were bigger than the largest draft-horses.
For a moment, she hung back. She watched Casavir and Khelgar engage them, and she was impressed. Khelgar, she knew, fought like the righteous fury he was, but Casavir's wrath surpassed even that. He fought like a man possessed, lashing out with no regard for his own safety, striking hard and swift. He danced with his foes, luring them to lunge while he struck, then drawing back only to strike again with greater force. She was entranced by his skill. Katalmach.
So absorbed was she that she somehow failed to notice that there was a seventh spider, clinging to the rocky slope above her head. Too late, she raised her mace, and too late she brought it down in her own defense. She felt the beast strike her, opening a gash where her neck met her body. But Kayla held firm. She ignored the chill creeping from the wound and struck at the sword spider's head. Her mace glanced harmlessly off the monstrosity's exoskeleton. The spider got in another blow, to her thigh, this time. Hamstrung, she dropped to the ground, but her foe knew nothing of mercy. It pursued her. She could not rise, but still she struck, making a desperate lunge at the creature's eye. The blow was solid, but the beast did not flinch. It lashed out again. She felt the flesh of her upper arm part under the blow, despite the plate she wore. Her mace fell to the ground. Ignoring her dizziness, she threw her shield away and picked up her mace in her off hand, giving her opponent a free shot. Mercifully, it was deflected by her helmet. Clumsily, she struck out at another eye. The sword spider was ready for her. Even as she lunged, it seized her forearm in its mandibles. The lower cannon of her vambrace deflected some of it, but it held her firmly, and only tightened its grip on her arm. The jagged points of its mandibles pierced her forearm through the gambeson. Fire exploded in her arm, then an icy numbness that was somehow worse. The mace fell from her limp hand.
"Damn it!" Casavir's voice was faint, distant. "I said 'fall back'!"
Kayla just fell.