The Tomb of the Dark Paladin by Tom Bielawski

very noses of his troops. Nevertheless, the wizard was confident that things would begin to work out. He did have a spy in the company of this Fyrbold reporting their movements with regularity and accuracy. As it happened, this group of companions had made remarkable progress in their quest to reach the Tomb of the Dark Paladin and the wizard was beginning to see wisdom in letting them find it. Then there was the report from this informant that one of these meddlesome companions had in fact departed from the group, taking the magical device that Umber so coveted with him. Could that be true? The implications of losing track of that powerful item were sobering and could prove to be the wizard's undoing. 
    The room began to spin as shadowy tendrils raced toward the wizard, powerful magic was working against him. He crouched, ready to fight, and began recite a Sigilspell to shield him; but his voice had been stifled! He shuffled toward the door to his study and lunged for a piece of obsidian in the shape of an eyeball. It was a magical device that he had created which could teleport him far away. Just as his fingers closed over the cool stone his world went numb. In a flash of darkness, his sight was gone, leaving the sensation of a thousand needles poking his entire body. When the terrible sensation passed, the elf found himself on his knees on a floor of black marble.
    He lifted his hooded head and peered around, relieved that the painful sensations had passed. He was in a vast room with a marble floor and massive columns. Beyond the columns nothing but impenetrable darkness could be seen. He could only see by virtue of a few flickering candles that gave off an eerie red light. It was then that he had a profound revelation.
    He knew where he was.
    The rhythmic sound of a massive, rumbling drum shook the chamber.  Thump, thump. The sound pummeled his mind, and it was hard to think. It was meant to unnerve him, and though perhaps it did, the dark elf took comfort in the fact he refused to be rattled. His voice returned and he felt the sensation of the Shadowtides all about him. The power was very strong here, and he smirked knowing he was not completely defenseless.
    "Shalthazar," a voice whispered. Although the voice was soft, the sound of it reverberated in the dark wizard's skull and he gasped in pain. A cluster of what appeared to be red fireflies swirling around an unseen object warned him that danger was close. Around and around the strange fireflies danced, circling a larger object, their light trails of crimson leaving streaks in the elf's vision. Thump, thump .  The sound thundered in his skull. The dark wizard was furious with himself for feeling so inferior to anyone, even one of Llars' First Six.
    His vision swam as the leering visage of a demon manifested in a burst of red light. Before the monster could reach him, he was overtaken by painful sensations. He was about to be flung through the ethers once more. A portal in the darkness ripped a seam in the fabric that separated the realms and unseen forces flung him into a supernatural flight into darkness. Though he could not see in the inky blackness of the space between realms, he was aware that the demon, and other shadowy beings, trailed him. Desperate to prey upon his living flesh, the dark beings danced around him, through him, and sucked his life force from him whenever their icy fingers grazed his flesh. He desperately wanted to use his magic but found that he could not speak and could not gesture, he could do nothing to stop the molestation that these beings of darkness and shadow were committing upon him.
    Slowly the dark minions veered away from the shadowy missile as he plunged through the ethers and emerged in the one place in the universe he dreaded. His body regenerated slowly, shooting pains raced through his arms and legs. He was kneeling in filth in a vast cavern, dark and cold. The shadows seemed to be alive with the sinister power of the dark