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Gauldryon could not recall what had made him want to be a paladin. Born to a small family in the Red Lands, they had lived all their lives in the mountainous regions near Kalswan. And just like his father, and his father before him, he had been a shepherd, and tended his flock of sheep. For years he had enjoyed the peace and tranquility his homestead had offered him. Till one day, he had seen a boy run through the grassy meadow, a wild look of terror in his eyes as he was chased by a band of hungry hobs.

He did not know what had possessed him to act that day, but he had come running to the boy’s aid with nothing but a walking stick, and a fire in his belly. And that, it seems was all he needed.

He had saved the boy’s life that day, and as he basked in the sunlight with the blood of his enemies still sticky upon him. He could remember feeling satisfied. He had won a victory, but at the same time, it was more than that. He had felt a pull, a calling to do something with his life.

And so he had told his father, and instead of receiving the tirade he would have expected, his father had stared into the suns, before he nodded his head. “If it is the will of the light, so be it. Go to the monastery on the Isles of Ne’eeven, and find your calling, my son.”

But when the time came to leave, Gauldryon had felt terror at leaving behind everything that he had ever known. It was like his heart was being wrenched in two. His mother, who must have understood what he was going through, patted him on the shoulder, and said, “You cannot deny your calling, my child. You will regret it one day.”

These words had not only set him free and on his path, but he had thought of them often as times grew tough. Still, it was with a heavy heart that he had left home to go find this monastery, a journey of many miles. And even then, he had no idea that he would become a paladin.

Encountering all sorts of trouble on the road, he had found himself doing what he could to help the people. He had fought to protect the weak and defenseless. He had slain a tyrant lord, and in doing so, taken his lands. He had battled monsters that should by rights have killed him, and by the time he had reached the Isles, he had become a seasoned warrior. Everything he had ever needed to learn to survive, he had learnt on the road with fellow travelers.

But even that paled in comparison to the challenges that would await him at the monastery. Treated as an aberration for desiring to join the Ring of Light, an order of monks and paladins that only recruited werewolves and elves, he had felt at his lowest. And yet even then his mother’s words had rung in his mind. “You cannot deny your calling, my child. You will regret it one day.”

Forced to prove himself time and time again, Gauldryon had risen to every challenge, and over time they too had begun to see his strength, conviction, and purpose. A skilled warrior, he had been chosen then to become a member of the paladins, defenders of the light. He had been granted titles, deeds, and a lordship for his valor in the field. And from that day forward, all roads had led him to here.

Gregor, if he was the Harbinger, meant the end times were upon them, and that the battle against the darkness had begun. Which is why Gregor needed to be taken to the monastery, for without him there would be no dawning of a new day.

His head lifted up to examine the bizarre structures that surrounded him, Gauldryon saw the molded shells of insects, used as shelter, and followed the trail of destruction wrought in Gregor's wake. The bodies of demons that had the shape of snakes, brought bile up from his stomach at the thought of so much evil in the world. Glindol, his staff held upright, illuminated a roadway paved with bones, signposts made of stone blocks, and a smoky mist that enveloped their waists. The patrols of demons that soared above, drawn away for the moment as he scanned the homes to either side of him. Made from the monstrous shells of beetles, they stared at him with glassy black eyes, when movement erupted in one of the buildings.

His warrior instincts honed by years of training, Gauldryon swung his kite shield up, and sent forth bars of light that shattered the darkness. The family of demons that raced away from them, burnt to a crisp, before they could let out screams.

His face twisted into a frown, Glindol asked, “My lord? They were fleeing from us.”

Feeling the Lightbearer’s energy swell within him, Gauldryon replied, “we do what we can to rid this world of evil. We cannot be sure they would not have alerted the enemy to our presence.”

And while the logic seemed simple enough, Gauldryon could tell that the gnome did not completely agree with him, but he would learn. They all had too. For the powers of shadow grew by the day, while the forces of light withered. He had seen it first in the lands of Caldashar where goblins were allowed to roam free. Green skinned devils that raided every part of the world, Gauldryon had done his part to eradicate them, but like the giants they continued to thrive.

His lips pursed in distaste, he swung his gaze to the left and right of him, when Tileya held up an arm. Her bow strung in hand, she held a finger to her lips, and pointed to the golden stairs where more demons tended to their dead. Dressed in filmy gray robes, they slithered around a barricade in the middle of a square, and piled up their kin onto wooden carts.

Heart pulsing with energy at the prayers they lifted up to their foul deities, Gauldryon readied his shield again.

But before he could take care of these beasts, Glindol laid an arm upon his shoulder, his eyes creased with exhaustion. “They are unarmed, my lord.”

But what did that matter? They were demons. He could feel the light of the suns burn in his breast, could feel the will of the Lightbearer inside of him, when Pelwar too stepped into his path. The powerful dwarf that had stood by his side for years, shook his gray head, and grunted, “The wee gnome is right, we can’t just be murdering these people.”

And as he looked to Tileya, he saw that she too had lowered her bow, her expression regretful.

Shocked that they couldn’t understand their duty to the light, Gauldryon felt his armor begin to smolder with heat, before he shook his head, and let the blue glow dissipate. “Very well, but we must still find Gregor.”

Heads nodded in agreement, Gauldryon couldn’t help wondering if it was Gregor’s disregard that had allowed for this dissension within the ranks. It was another situation that he would need to rectify, but for now, he needed the minds of his warriors focused.

Glindol, however not content enough to allow these monsters to live, asked, “and what of Daria?”

Having given little thought to the barbarian woman that had abandoned them, Gauldryon could not say that he was not disappointed in her. But she had made her choice, and they had a higher purpose in mind. They could not allow the Harbinger of the Lightbearer to be captured by the forces of darkness. The prophecies were not clear on what the Harbinger needed to do to ensure the light was victorious, but Gauldryon was certain the world would be doomed if harm should ever befall him.

Still, those are not the words that his people wished to hear. They, like many creatures of the world, saw Coroleya in shades of different colors, but there were only two colors. The light and shadow. And in order for them to prevail, he could not allow such attachments to detain him. But he also knew he would regret the death of Daria should it happen. “She has set her own path, and we, ours. We shall do what we can to aid her if our roads cross again, but it is Gregor that we need to find. Without him, the world is doomed to darkness and despair.

And as much as they all liked Daria, Gauldryon could see that most agreed with him. All except for Glindol. The gnome’s haggard features and clear gray eyes, stared up at the temple, and whispered his own prayer. “Be safe, girl.”

~*~

Silent as they gazed at each other for a moment, Gregor was the first to look away. The platform coated in bloodstains, dead lizards, and scorch marks, reminded him again that he had more work to do. He still had a long road ahead of him, but as he again took another step forward, Daria intercepted him. Her light brown eyes moist with unshed tears, she nodded her head behind him. “We should rest here, and continue on later. Gauldryon will not be far behind us. I'm sure more than anything that he would wish to help you.”

But as Gregor shook his head, he replied, “No, this is my quest. I won’t have that fool mucking it up.” He then nodded in the direction of the city below. “You should go back as well.”

Her mouth opened to argue with him, Gregor did not wait for her to answer, but simply continued. The golden staircase that ran straight up, was guarded by handrails that glimmered in the darkness, spidery cobwebs that hung in the air like a tapestry, and golden pillars.

His gaze down on his feet as he trudged along, he knew the moment he heard a second pair of footsteps behind him that Daria was following. But what did that matter anymore? If the girl wished to die down here, he would not stop her. But if she got in his way or did anything to hamper his quest, Gregor vowed he would kill her dead without a moment's hesitation. This was his second chance and he would not allow anyone to ruin it.

Traveling for miles in the underdark, the temple always off in the distance, Gregor’s mind began to wander to thoughts of what he would do when he found her. He wanted to take her back to the mountains, to the first place where he had felt at home, a place where she would be safe. But he feared time would have changed everything. Bandits, monsters, or simple degradation would have destroyed the home that he had built for them.

In the end, he supposed he should take her back to Harthorn. Back to Caroline. The heavy flap of wings closeby, caused him to look up, and see flocks of winged demons flying towards the temple. Daria’s guttural gasp of surprise as crimson red eyes glared down at them, made Gregor aware that he was thronged by thousands of the creatures.

Impzalas by their size and stature, or as their more commonly referred to on the surface as Imps, Gregor estimated there to be at least ten thousand winged demons making their way towards the temple. The large batlike creatures, for now avoided them, but Gregor had to assume that they were here to stop him.

With one watchful eye still upon them, he continued to make his way up, then let out a deep breath as he reached a second platform. The second host of dragon riders that awaited them, looked both disgruntled and worried, when with a single command, they split open down the middle. The tall lizard warrior in charge of this group, bowed his head low in the saddle, and called out, “We are yours to command, Warleader, Blessed is She-Who-Sleeps, and will one day restore this world to everlasting glory.” His words echoed down the lines of lizard warriors who formed a square around them.