I challanged Butch but he rejected. Another person dueled me instead. I won, so I settled the honor issue. Anyways, Shadow Tribe made ridiculous demands, so if Butch can kill them without getting the innocent hurt, by all means.
*the journal returns to Danger's past*
"Crud!" I had just tripped in the Tomb of the Betrayers. I was about 15 at the time, and I was wearing a borrowed suit of Neverwinter Watch Chain, a large sheild, and a longsword from the Neverwinter Watch. A necromancer went into the tomb and the rest of the Watch and local clergy were busy scouring the city for any undead. Wound up me and my sister dealing with the necromancer.
"I take it you need light?" My sister asked.
"Yeah... I don't get why you got the celestial bloodline but I just got stuck with a birthmark that resembles Mystra's symbol on my..."
I stopped when she gave me quite a peircing look. She was all ready being schooled as one of the rare Paladins of Mystra. She tended to take any comments about my birthmark personally. I can't blame her, the closest thing to celestial blood I have from my faimly tree was a birthmark. The birthmark was shaped, even colored, like Mystra's symbol. Problem is, it was located just above and on my butt, so no one ever saw it. It used to give me trouble sitting down, I all ways waited for some form of celestial ability to manifest. Never happened. Well, the chance of the celestial bloodline going on is pretty low anyways, so I can't be too suprised.
"Hang on," my sister said, "There's something inside..."
"We're in a crypt with a undead-raising necromancer! Of COURSE there's a evil aura nearby!" I hadn't become a Paladin yet, so I didn't really know much about detecting evil.
"It feels..." but before she finished, she got a bit dazed.
Aw crud, she got dazed from a overly-powerful evil aura. I was thinking those words. I gripped my longsword and remembered what the instructer told me
"Good or evil, lawful or chaotic, all mages suffer from the same weakness: Get in close and they're toast. They can't take as much of a beating as we can, so get in their faces and hit them hard, and pray that they don't have warding spells up."
I remembered those words, and looked through a small hole in the wall. I couldn't see anything, my sister got un-dazed, and I told her, "Hey, sis, keep the detecting down, no need for a headache here, aye?"
She just nodded in return, and said, "Mage is right next to the door, let's..."
Then a zombie came into the hall way, I was about to jump at it but sis got in the way. She was two years older then me, so she should of went at the mage, not the zombie.
I slammed the door open and ran at the mage, who was to the left. He was quite suprised, and looked like he had neglected wards.
I rushed him and pounded him with every blow I could, and the mage, so suprised, barely was able to hit me with his quarterstaff a few times before I had him hurt bad. He then shot a magic missile right for my gut... oh it hurt a lot...
Sis crashed in and finished the necromancer, then her hands glowed, Lay on Hands, and healing the wound the trice-damned missile left on me. We left and told them what happened, but it turned out we only got one of the acylote's of that necromancer. The Watch had managed to clean undead out, and a group of Tyrran Paladins went back in and finished it.
I then returned to studying magic, I wasn't really a caster, but I could, to a degree, use some minor magical items, but I wanted to maximize it to be a sort of magic-using-fighter at the time.
Didn't know I'd wind up becoming a Paladin of Tyr at the time though.