Final Penance Of A Paladin

The tavern was not crowded this time of evening. Most of the regulars had left and now weary travelers, bounty hunters, and other strangers took their place. Still a few of the day to day clientele hung around as the barkeep lit the gas lanterns and yawned.

One man in particular seemed to be a constant fixture at the bar. He had aged significantly though he was only forty. He stared into his empty glass like it was a scrying pool.

He would occasionally turn his head to scan the newcomers then he would turn his attention to his ale. The barkeep, a rotund fellow with hair the shade of raven wings would always ask him what he was doing and he would always answer that he was waiting for someone.

Eight people, that's how many occupied the tavern now. Eight including the weary man at the bar.

Once he was a paladin, a holy warrior. He'd faced dragons, slaying some, taming others. He had driven the dark mages from the kingdom and had been the mightiest of the knights of this realm.

That all ended one night right here in this very tavern. His glory days came crashing down in a moment of weakness. That weakness had been blonde, voluptuous and friendly. She'd been very friendly in fact.

She was almost hypnotic. He took an instant liking to her and eventually they'd gone into the inn which adjoined the tavern and had coupled together. The moment he planted his seed within her he felt something leave from him and that's when she revealed her true form.

Above him was knelt, not the human female he'd lusted for, but something else entirely. She had all the shape of a woman but her skin was violet, her eyes burned like the sun, horns protruded from her forehead and her skin was no longer warm like that of a human woman but it burned like hell fire.

He knew now what she truly was and she mocked him before disappearing in a puff of smoke. From that day forward he grew weaker and soon his fighting days were behind him. She'd taken part of his soul. He knew that. He also knew it impacted him physically as well.

After loss after loss in combat he visited the temple of Dri The Creator. The wise woman there told him Dri had stripped him of his might and turned his face from him.

Now he could make it alright. She'd be back here someday to claim another victim; he just had to wait. Just as the tavern's proprietar was about to announce last call, she walked through the doors.

The former paladin recognized her instantly. She hadn't aged a day. Of course not, she was incapable of aging. She looked at him and winked taunting him.

He left the bar and walked over to her table. "You look like crap," she stated with a smirk of that variety only a woman can give in malice.

"You know bloody well why," he said.

"I guess that happens when your diety wants nothing to do with you."

Silence filled the void between them then the succubus continued. Your soul was delicious by the way. It was a shame I only got to sample a small morsel of it. Of course we were engaged in other matters."

She smiled devilishly at him. "We could always go back to bed and finish the job."

"I plan to finish it," he said, gripping the hilt of the sword strapped to his hip,"This ends tonight."

"You'd like that wouldn't you? It's not that easy, lover. You know the cambion warlord that's been terrorizing this puny little kingdom as of late?"

"Yes. He uses the blood of those he slays in demonic rituals."

"He's your son."

"You lie,Harlot!"

"Do I really?"

He thought about it for a moment. He knew it to be true.

"Thank you. I know what I must do."

It happened suddenly and swiftly. The torchlight danced off metal and the woman's head toppled to the floor as blood spurted from its fromer place on her neck.

Everyone was shocked and was prepared to take down this murderer when the head and body took on their true forms as the illusion died with the succubus.

The former paladin was grim and silent. He walked out of the tavern and into the night.

A figure in gold armor rode through the countryside all day and all night. He came to the camp of the warlord. He waited until daybreak.

He looked up to the sky. "Dri, I have no reason to expect you to turn your ear to me but please grant me one last request. Give me the strength to set right my terrible sin and the calamity it has brought upon the land."

With that benediction said the paladin set upon his son's camp and slew his soldiers while they still slept. Heavy armored footsteps caught his attention and he turned to face his son who wore a full set of armor sans a helmet and held a giant hammer in his left hand. "Hello, Father. I wondered when we would meet. I sensed Mother's death two nights ago."

"No doubt through your damnable rites."

"Those are smoke and mirrors. Do I really need sacrifices to commune with the citizens of the Netherworld,I who was born in it?"

He now held the hammer with both hands and took up a battle stance. "Let us finish this. I have cities to raze."

There is no need to describe in epic details the clash that ensued. It lasted for five very tense minutes until the hammer caved in the knight's breastplate. With his ebbing strength the holy warrior struck off his son's head.

He collapsed to the ground and lay flat on his back. He looked skyward and saw a woman on a winged horse coming down to take him to Dri's realm as reward for his penance.