In the tavern there were two white-armored strangers. Both were women, one a human, the other an elf. They were the only patrons at this hour, but the innkeeper knew them well and had left them in the common room as he had retired to his chamber. They both sat around the central table of the inn, where they could best watch the door. The ales in front of them were untouched and growing warm.

The red haired woman was tapping her fingers on the wooden table, her sky-blue eyes looking towards the closed door. The elven paladin opposite her sat immobile, head raised and staring at the ceiling. Despite her best efforts not to look as nervous as her sister in arms, she chewed on a fingernail from tine to time. "You think he'll be here soon?" the human asked.

The elf nodded. "He said at midnight. And I've never known him to miss an appointment" she answered.

And, as if to underline her words, the door opened. A massive man, dressed white robes and his features concealed by a hood, entered the inn. Both paladins stood up in salute. He blocked the threshold with his large, muscular form as he stood there, hard and unmoving as a mountain. "He'll be in Neverwinter in two days time. Be there before him"

The women looked at each other in confusion. "But Lord-"the elf was saying, but as she turned, she saw that he had disappeared.

As the ship anchored into port, the first man to jump out was Mekakel. His blue-green eyes, the color of summer seas, shone with delight as he set them upon the city beyond. He carried nothing, no weapons or trinkets and was dressed in black leather armor. His long hair, the same color as his clothes, hang loose and thick, like the mane of a barbarian. His face was darkened by a wicked smile as he walked into the city.

The young man's eyes drank every sight greedily, from the beggars and the vendors' wares to the simple houses and the manors of the wealthy. He walked with fast but measured steps, like a man who had waited too long for something but was not going to let it escape him now that he almost had it. Neverwinter surely lived up to it's name as the Jewel of the North, especially at this time of the day as the setting sun reflected upon the colored windows of it's tall, magnificent towers.

He crossed the docks, the marketplace and reached the easternmost part of the city. There he entered an inn, one he knew all too well. He could not help it but smile like a madman as he opened the door, his white teeth flashing like an assassin's daggers in the moonlight.

"…and for those who fell vanquishing the devil!" he heard as he walked in. The room, crowded with men, women and children, erupted into thunderous cheers and applause. It was a Spartan establishment, but managed to achieve a certain measure of warmth and comfort that few wealthier inns could. The old man that had led the toast drank from his tankard as did all the men in the common room. Around him were gathered his life-long friends, former paladins all. His long white hair was tied back in a ponytail and his noble face shone with happiness.

Mekakel shut the door behind him with such force that it's hinges were shattered. Everyone turned to look at him, silenced by his sudden, violent intrusion. His fists were clenched and his fang-like teeth barred in a feral snarl. "Hello Teklis" he said aloud and pointed a finger at the old man.

"You are…" the old paladin started saying, recognition shining in his eyes. Then he started choking abruptly. He coughed violently, spitting blood all over the table in front of him. Then, three seconds later, blood burst out of his mouth and he fell face-on on the table, dead. A child started wailing in the back of the room.

Everyone else was too horrorstruck to even utter a word. The old paladins stared at the murderer in recognition, eyes shining with fear. "Yes I am" the young man replied with cruel mirth and then addressed everyone in the room: "And you are not"

The child stopped wailing.