Arcane Journey

Chapter 120 The Fallen Paladin
Today's Mokou Town is very restless.

Because people died last night, and many people died.

At the wedding of the son of Graal, the richest man in Mokou Town, and Miss Natasha of Shadow City.

All the people from the City of Shadows were killed, and even the merchants and slave owners who attended the wedding were killed and injured.

The entire Mokou Town was in chaos.

As the leaders of various forces in the town died one after another, the people of the Sanlinta Society seemed to be hunting dogs who smelled meat in advance, and they had already noticed this situation.

At dawn, this evil organization that believed in the god of tyranny, Bane, mobilized almost all the men it could mobilize in advance, and recklessly invaded the range of Mokou Town, losing its owner's mines, caravans, manors and property.

"Gral suffered heavy losses in the battle with Shadow City last night. They have led their caravan and all their men to the Sanlin Tower Society."

"It seems that this 'fat catfish' is not stupid. He knows that he alone cannot bear the anger from the City of Shadows."

Balleris, the proprietor of the Salamander tavern, wore simple robes woven from thin brown homespun cloth, and his light brown skin indicated that he was an outsider in this land.

After hearing the news, he frowned and ignored it.

Mokou Town was in chaos all day long.

Although he knew what caused it in his heart, he still lived what he thought was a peaceful life as before, taking care of his own tavern, and was busy until late at night.

After the guests had gone, he closed the door of the tavern, limped up the stairs, and came to the door of a traveler.

He hesitated for a moment, and then gently knocked on the dark door in front of him with his palm.

"Come in." A crisp voice came from inside.

Tavernkeeper Ballerith took a deep breath, opened the door and entered.

"Hey, don't stand there blocking the door, come and sit down." The owner of the room, the half-elven poet Ellend Windfall, said in his characteristic crisp voice.

This is a handsome half-elf poet with silver eyes and long hair, and elegant demeanor. At first glance, he looks a little weak, but Baleris seems to feel that he is facing an ancient dragon.

"What do you want from me, guest." He asked in a low voice, and sat down after speaking.

A cozy fire burns in the fireplace to drive away the autumn chill.

Erend poured steaming tea into a pair of fine china cups, and handed one of them to Ballerith.

The young poet bowed his head and took a sip of his tea, but his wise eyes looked at Ballerith. "I've heard your story, so there are things I don't want to hide from you."

After a while, the poet spoke again, "You should have heard about what happened last night."

The old man Balleris didn't know what the other party meant, so he nodded stiffly.

"To tell you the truth." The poet went on to say, "The Sanlinta Society also knows about your past. They will soon unify Mokou Town, and you are undoubtedly the target of their expulsion. Because they are worried about your past. You threatened them."

When Balleris heard this, his turbid black eyes suddenly widened, "I'm just an old man who is nearly fifty years old and has a lame leg. Could this still threaten their rule?"

"No, Ballerith, it has nothing to do with what you did."

Ellende sighed, and a smile flashed on his handsome face, "In fact, I dare say that there is no more versatile and skilled craftsman like you in the entire Mokou Town."

Speaking of this, he deliberately paused, and the smile on his face faded, "Yes, it has nothing to do with what you did, because the Sanlin Tower Society doesn't care about how you are now, you are indeed A harmless old man in his late fifties with a crippled leg, but I'm afraid that doesn't change your image in the eyes of the Sanlintar - a paladin, a priesthood keen on punishing rape and eliminating evil By."

"But they don't have to be afraid of me at all. I have long since lost my divine power." The old man couldn't help shouting, "As long as I don't let me leave here, I can control myself, I swear!"

A crisp sound came from Balleris' palm, it turned out that the teacup was broken.

The old man stared at the fragments in horror, and said with despair, "Sorry, I broke your teacup."

"Actually, it doesn't matter if you break a teacup, Ballerius." Ellend smiled and comforted, picking up the fragment from his hand and putting it aside, "This is just an item, just buy another one. "

The half-elf poet took the old man's withered palm and placed it in his own, "Look at your hand, Balleris, what do you see?"

The old man looked at the poet in shock. He tried his best to break free, but his grip was tighter, so that he couldn't bear any resistance.

Not knowing exactly what he was referring to, he just looked down at his hands.

Scars and wounds criss-crossed on the withered palms. They used to be the hands of warriors. These hands killed countless people, far exceeding what he could count.

Finally, he tells the truth to the poet.

"Really?" Elend chuckled, wondering:
"That's really strange. It seems to me that these hands are very gentle. Although they are powerful, what I see is a pair of hands that once held a baby, and they did not hesitate to hold a young princess. The hands that were rescued from the dragon's flame were the hands that gave food without compensation, no, Ballerith, I do not believe these are the hands of warriors."

The old man finally broke free and asked, "But other people don't believe it, do they?"

"Some people don't believe it." Elend said solemnly, "There are some, and among them, the voices of the believers of Bane, the god of tyranny, are the loudest. I'm afraid what they worry about is that when you can't control yourself When the wrath of the people is met, it will bring them a violent trial."

"Perhaps they are right to worry." Balleris replied with a slightly bitter tone.

Why not?he thought.

After all, this kind of thing used to happen a lot in the past, when he was an apprentice paladin, the only thing that mattered was justice.

When the half-elf poet Ellend Windfall heard this, anger flashed in his eyes, "I didn't invite you here to listen to your nonsense. The reason I told you this is because I know your past and believe You only belong here."

"Of course, I will try to talk to those who are unhappy because of your existence." The poet raised his teacup and took a sip, "Maybe I can use my eloquence to convince them not to be afraid."

"Who are you instructed by?" Balleris looked at the poet suspiciously.

He sensed that the poet was not a member of the Sanrynta.

"Who gave instructions? Of course it is the lord of Mokou Town. Alright, now you can go and do your own thing."

Elend seemed to be very disappointed in him, he waved his hand impatiently, motioned him to leave, thought for a while, and then shouted behind him, "Also, Balleris, the lord of Mokou Town asked me to send Let me give you the last sentence: the paladin never dies, justice lasts forever!"

It's a pity that he is already dead. The old man Balleris sighed softly in his heart, and turned to leave.

He went to the backyard, entered a dark and dusty library, and prepared to spend the night in the quiet house.

It was midnight outside the window when the dull bells for Vespers rang.

As far as the old man could see, the dark plain rolled southward until it joined the distant landforms, and the only jewel shining on the horizon was the city of Araby in the kingdom of Cormyr.

Balleris had been fascinated by this, and perhaps the lights of the city reminded him of his past, the days when Araby was his home and his bread and butter.

But now his mind was on something else, a different, more comforting past.

Balleris flipped through the colorful illustrated manuscript on the table, which was a historical treatise on the founding of the church of Lathander, the Lord of Dawn.

It's hard for him to imagine what it will be like if he doesn't have books to read in the future, but in fact he has only learned it in just a few months.

The library wasn't one of those insanely large rooms, but it was filled from floor to ceiling with books so vast that Ballerith doubted it would take two lifetimes to read them all.

All these books were dedicated to Oghma the Binder, the guardian of all knowledge, by the former Lord of Mokou Town.

The books in this library were the greatest pride of the former Lord of Mokou Town.

The lord was cleric of Oghma, the god of knowledge, and he devoted his life to protecting the books from marauders who would burn them.

Even before he died, he did not forget to entrust these things to him.

So he broke into the rock bunker shrouded in dragon flames to save all this knowledge.

Ballerith couldn't help thinking of those days, when he'd been whipped into battle and he'd set fire to buildings he didn't know himself, and he blamed himself for it.

How many precious books were devoured by the fire and disappeared from this world forever?
In order to make up for this damage, Balleris spent more than ten years with an adventure team based in Araby City. These kind-hearted mercenaries tried their best to fight against the enemies west of Waterdeep and east of Cormyr. Between the tyranny of Bane.

It was during these ten years of adventure career that he felt the call of the sacred mission and became a paladin of the Lord of Dawn.

And when the team was disbanded as the red dragon ravaged Mokou Town ten years ago, Balleris found that he had lost the oath of the Juggernaut, the power from the Paladin, and at the same time lost the purpose of life.

No one told him who to fight, or where to go, or when to fight.

When he was alone again, he found that the good deeds he had done could not alleviate the sin in his heart at all.

Then, in extreme frustration, he came to the gate of Mokou Town on a rainy spring day
Balleris interrupted his recollection with a scowling look on his face.

He will never allow anyone to drive him out of Mokou Town.

Sanlin Tower will not work!

Neither can the lord of Mokou Town!
He buried his head in the book again, and he always felt particularly satisfied when his mind wandered between the pages.

Outside the window, the night is dark, covering Mokou Town like a black cloak.

The town on the hills of the moonlit plain looked peaceful, guarded by its stone walls.

"Reading these dusty tomes is hardly a legitimate pastime for a paladin."

A voice came suddenly, startling Balleris.

The visitor lit the oil lamp, and the yellow light radiated in all directions.

Balleris turned quickly, and what he saw was a pair of gray eyes with firm gaze, and a man with a sarcastic look and an ugly thinness.

It turned out to be Bane High Priest Lemeric from Zhentil Keep.

Balleris cleared his throat violently, and said coldly, "No one is a paladin within these walls, Lemeric."

"Everybody likes to say that," said Lemeric in his high-pitched voice. "It's a pity."

Ballerith watched him coldly as the scrawny man sat down at the other end of the table.

He had hardly seen this old man since he came to Mokou Town.

Ramric is the head priest of the Bane Church, from Zhentil Keep on the Moonsea.

"Not everyone who worships a god of tyranny trembles...foolishly in fear before a paladin," Lemeric continued.

There was a hiss in his voice, like a knife cutting silk.

Ballerith looked at him suspiciously.

"You're doubting me, but I'm telling the truth," said Lemeric, his thin lips and tight face making his smile look more like a grimace.

"I'm a powerful man, Balleris, and there are many people in the church who follow me. But even so, I still respect you. No, I envy you."

There was an unexplained savage gleam in his eyes.

"When I was young, I spent my days thinking about leading others, letting my wits and will control them. I dreamed of fighting the battlefield, gaining glory, and raising the sword to kill the enemy." He paused and sighed deeply. .

"But as luck would have it, the gods have given me such a skeleton. I've been content to fight in the spiritual realm. You're lucky, Ballerith."

"No." Balleris shook his head.

"No, please don't envy me. If I can change my identity, I am willing to give everything." He touched the book in front of him respectfully.

"It's far greater than battle or sword." Lemeric grabbed the book in his bony hand, then threw it aside casually, with a look of disdain on his serious face.

Ballerith looked at him in shock.

"Knowledge is not the only sacred thing to Oghma! No, there is one thing far more sacred than that, and that is truth. Knowledge comes from books, but there is only one way to bring truth to the people , that is action."

A sickly blush glowed on Lemeric's cheeks.His eyes seemed to no longer be fixed on Ballerith, but turned to the darkness outside the window, as if he saw there a glorious prospect, which the worldly eyes could not see.

"Books are so easily thrown away by unbelievers, that is so easy."

Ramric continued, as if reciting a prayer.

"But if we arm our priests, I mean with swords and not with scrolls, then when we bring the truth to all the nations of Faerûn we will be unstoppable, and mortals will obey me Teach me, those who follow me will prosper, and those who oppose me will perish!"

Ballerith felt a chill run down his spine.

"What truth are you talking about?" he asked boldly.

Lemeric stared at Ballerith in disgust. "It's the truth. Don't you understand? The world needn't read books to learn how to think. In the name of Bane, the god of tyranny, we'll think for them. We'll tell them what they need to know."

"As long as there is tyranny, there will be people who will rise up against you," said Ballerith cautiously, "always."

Lemeric waved his hand dismissively and said, "Not all souls can be saved, Ballerith. But that's the price we have to pay for the good of all. Someone always takes the long view , and I will be one of the leaders."

Suddenly he grabbed Ballerith's wrist, his fingers strangely warm.

"But we need our lord's dark guards to enforce our truth, and you, fallen paladin, are the lord of darkness the right man."

Ballerius broke free from his grasp, then rubbed his wrist as if he had just been burned, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can be the kind of fighter you want."

The frenzied expression on Lemeric's face didn't fade away, "Very well, Ballerith. You don't have to make a decision so quickly, not for now. But I'm confident that you'll figure it out and join us soon, I'm pretty confident about that."

After speaking, he turned and left without looking back.

When Lemeric disappeared into the salamander tavern and appeared in an empty alleyway, his mean mouth evoked an inexplicable smile strangely.

In the blink of an eye, he turned into the half-elf poet Erend Windfall.

"Damn Bryan, it's really embarrassing for me to play two roles at the same time in one night." The poet muttered, and said thankfully, "Fortunately, the task has been completed, and it's time for him to appear next. "

In fact, the Half-Elf Bard is not his true identity.

He is the guardian of the Northland, the ancient silver dragon 'Silver Wing' Diszerodon, and the purpose of coming to Mokou Town is to find Brian, the missing companion of the Lord of Silvermoon City.

Although the man has been found, he has also completed his mission and can return to the Northland.

But what made him depressed was that this kid, Brian, had actually seen through his true identity.

Not only that, but also threatened him to help with one thing.

"It doesn't matter if you don't do me this favor. At worst, when I come to Silvermoon City, I will report your affair with the former city lord, the supreme lady, Elastre, to Vera Marandes, Queen of the Silvermoon Dragon." Miss."

"My wife already knows, and I've been punished, so you can't threaten me." That's how he replied at the time.

This is one of the few pasts that he can't bear to look back on.

"As expected, what about the fact that on the 210th day of the Moon of Storms 12 years ago, you became the Supreme Lady and went to Neverwinter to meet the Lord Protector?"

Until now, he could still recall the half-elven wizard's deep eyes that seemed to be able to see through the past and present.

He, an ancient silver dragon who had lived for thousands of years, was threatened by a half-elf who didn't even have a fraction of him, yet he was helpless, it was so irritating.

Fortunately, Brian didn't make excessive demands.

Otherwise, he can only take the risk to forcibly wash away this shameful memory.

When he returns to the Northlands, he must go to Neverwinter. Even if he digs up his old love... he digs up the tomb of Lord Protector, but he still needs to find the diary, he thought to himself.

Then, he prepared to release the teleportation spell to go back as soon as possible.

Diszerodeton was about to leave, when he suddenly thought of something, he quickly stopped casting spells, and said to himself: "No, I can't just leave like this, this kid dared to plot against me, I must get this place back , let him know what will happen if he offends me."

He stood there thinking for a moment, his eyes lit up, and a ray of light enveloped him, transforming into a slender figure.

This is a moon elf girl with a graceful figure, wearing a narrow-sleeved tight white top with black sleeves, and a lead-colored vest on the top.

The smiling eyes are light gray, and their color seems to change with the light.

Her long black hair clung to her fair skin and cascaded down to her waist, shining in the light of midnight.

What is more striking is that she has an awe-inspiring and confident aura all over her body.

"It's called 'Fox Xing Dawn', a moon elf shadow dancer, who was born on Yongju Island in 1297 in the valley calendar." The sweet-looking moon elf girl thought about her identity and smiled, "Image Memory crystal, I hope this kid's bed skills won't let me down."

After speaking, she turned into a shadow and disappeared in place.

On the other hand, after Lemeric left, Balleris was no longer in the mood to read.

So he put the books away, and went to the stables of the tavern, where his room was in the attic.

He lay silently in the dark, letting time pass by.

Unfortunately, he couldn't sleep the whole time.

Lemeric's strange words echoed in his mind over and over again.

Finally, throwing back the blanket, he got up and groped in the dark until he found a candle.

He set it on fire with flint and tinder.

Warm golden light immediately filled the entire attic.

The old man groped under the hay bed until he touched the loose floor.

After opening it, a pit appeared there.

Ballerith took out a long object from it, and unwrapped it from the heavy cloth.

Against the candlelight, a broken long sword appeared in his sight.

He stared blankly at the broken sword, as if he could see the people who died under his sword, as if they could resist High Priest Bane's words like a magic shield.

After staring blankly for over an hour, Balleris rewrapped the broken sword and put it aside.

He took out two other objects from the pit, one was a dull holy emblem, engraved with the emblem representing Lathander, Lord of the Dawn.

The other is a small and exquisite jade statue.

The statue originally represented a small bird, but under his years of caressing, the edges and corners have long been lost.

Yet Ballerith still remembers its beauty well.

It was a gift carved by his sister Lirael herself a long time ago.

Many years ago, both he and Lirael were teenagers who didn't know the heights of the sky and the earth.

When a fleet crossed the ocean and came to the Chult Forest, he and his sister forgot the teachings of their parents.

They were encouraged to follow them not only to get rich but also to gain knowledge, and the wonders of foreign lands were not found in the jungle.

So they signed up and became warriors marching to the far north lands.

But they were thoroughly deceived.

The brothers and sisters finally found that what they got was not glory, but slavery.

Sailing at sea seemed like a nightmare. Diseases prevailed in the dark cabin, and most of the crew were killed or injured.

Unfortunately, Lirael died of illness on the way, and although Baleris barely survived, when they arrived at the destination, they put him in fetters and gave him a sword.

The jade carving is the only thing left to him by his sister.

But her bright eyes, her brave and sweet smile, all these can only emerge in memory now.

Not all souls can be saved... Lemeric's terrible words burned in his brain like poison.

He held the jade carving tightly.

A tear, clear as a diamond, slowly rolled down his dark cheek.

"Must more people die, Lirael?" the old man murmured to the night sky.

The night has no answer but silence.

(End of this chapter)