A Man and His Dog

Aramil was restless. Even the raucous celebration party the Talons of Bahamut were holding to mark their latest victory over the forces of evil couldn't soothe his sense that something vital was missing, almost like an amputated limb. The loud music and copious amounts of intoxicants simply served to set Aramil's nerves on edge. As he drummed his fingers on the table, Aramil vacantly looked off into the distance and wished he could find a quiet spot to be alone.

"If ya keep that up, lad, I'm going ta hafta remove that hand for ye," grunted Rurik.

"That's just my problem, Rurik, replied Aramil, I feel like I'm missing something important, but I can't figure out what it is. I keep wondering if I lost my right arm or something and if I just look hard enough I'll find it."

Rurik stroked his beard as he responded, "Huh, sounds to me like ye need to find yer Mount."

"Rurik, I've already got a mount. You know, the brown stallion out front?"

"Not that type of mount," laughed the dwarf, "I'm talking about a Paladin's Mount."

"Huh?" Aramil answered stupidly.

"There comes a time in every paladin's journey when he must look inside himself and call forth the animal that will serve as his loyal companion and steed. From what I understand it's similar to when a wizard gets his familiar or when I called for Nightwing. Go find some place quiet where you can focus and pray to Bahamut. He'll guide you from there."

Reluctant to be a drain on the festive mood, Aramil replied, "But what about our celebration? I don't want everyone worried about me."

"Don't worry about it. I can handle the well-wishers and I'll let the rest of the Talons know what is going on and to not disturb ye."

After making his exit, Aramil entered the nearby forest and began his daily prayer ritual. Unnoticed by him, his aunt Antinua had followed him to ensure no forest monsters attacked him while his attention was focused elsewhere. After praying for about a candlemark, Aramil felt a jolt and opened his eyes. No more was he surrounded by forest. Now, at the top of a mountain, Aramil could see what looked to be clouds far below. Turning around, feet crunching in the snow, Aramil was surprised to see the face of a dragon looking back at him. The dragon's eye, as large as he was tall, looked like a pool of molten silver turned on its side so it was perpendicular to the ground.

"Be at peace, Aramil Naïlo, rumbled a voice that shook the ground, you have served me well and been a true representative for me and my goals. Kashyk will be greatly pleased to hear of your progress. The time has come for you to summon forth your partner in battle. Relax now and look inside yourself to find the one who matches your spirit."

With these words, Aramil closed his eyes and experienced a floating sensation, like a fresh cool breeze. After what could have been an eternity or an instant, the young half-elf's relaxation was disturbed by the by the cries of numerous forest denizens. He opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by satyrs, nymphs, pixies, wolves, deer, and many other creatures that called the forest home. None appeared hostile, but all seemed anxious. After a moment of awkward silence, a bold pixie came forward and asked in broken Common, "Please... help... Guardian."

Comprehension dawned and, in the language of the forest, Aramil responded, "Fear not, little pixie. Who is in trouble and how may I help?"

"Thank the Goddess you understand us. Our Guardian Protector has been caught in a trap and is beset by hunters. Please hurry and follow us. We haven't much time."

Several pixies then grabbed at his tunic, while wolves ran ahead. Letting the creatures take the lead, Aramil rushed behind them on the trail. After a few moments, the forest opened up into a clearing. A dire wolf was caught partially by a trap, and hunters were besieging the animal on all sides, attacking with long poles. Blood clouded Aramil's vision and roared in his ears. Without hesitation or consideration of the odds, the young paladin rushed to the aid of the beleaguered creature, unarmed except for his righteous fury.

"Leave this noble beast alone you inhumane savages!" yelled Aramil. "He's here to protect this forest from people like you!"

As the hunters turned to face him, Aramil rushed the nearest hunter and wrestled the pole from him. Aramil snapped the ten foot pole in half over his knee reducing its size to manageable proportions approximate to a quarterstaff.