Abruptly, Listle stepped out of a basaltic column carved with twisted gargoyles.

"Ugh!" She said disgustedly. "That was definitely not pleasant! You really wouldn't believe the stuff that accumulates behind walls in places like this." She hastily brushed bits of dried cobweb and ancient grime from her green tunic. "Now, let me see what I can do about these uncooperative bones, Kern."

However, try as she might, none of Listle's spells and no amount of tugging could break the scabrous bonds.

"All right, Kern, there's one last thing I can try." Listle took a deep breath. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but I don't think I have much choice."

"Listle, what in the world are you talking about?" Kern asked in exasperation.

"Just hold on tight. And whatever you do, don't let go."

Her ruby necklace glowing, Listle disappeared into the floor. Kern wondered what the unpredictable elf was up to. Moments later, he found out as two slender hands reached out of the stones behind him and jerked him backward-right through the solid surface of the wall!

It was far worse than any nightmare. Kern could feel the rock passing through his body with a hideous, slithering sensation. Solid stone filled his heart and lungs, almost choking him. It was horrible. After what seemed an eternity, Listle hauled him up through the catacomb's floor. He gasped for breath. The others stared in surprise.

"Next time just let me starve to death, Listle," Kern said, shuddering in revulsion. "It couldn't be any worse than that." He hauled himself to his feet as the elf slumped weakly against a column, her face alarmingly pale.

"Listle, are you all right?" Miltiades asked in concern.

She nodded. "I'm fine. Really."

"Are you sure?" Kern asked. He reached out to grip the elf's shoulder, but his fingers passed right through her.

"I said I'm fine!" Listle snapped, stumbling away from him. "Do you hear me? Now why don't you see to the others with that precious hammer of yours?" She retreated into the shadows.

Kern gaped at his hand. Had it simply been his imagination? He wondered if the others had seen what he had seen. But no, he realized, his body blocked their view.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention to his companions. One blow of Primul's enchanted warhammer was all it took to shatter the skeletal bonds. In moments, Daile, Miltiades, and Sirana were free. Listle stepped from the shadows to rejoin them.

It was only then, as they all stood together, that Kern realized one of the companions was missing. He had been so preoccupied with their predicament that he had not noticed until now.

"Daile," he asked the young ranger with a frown, "where is Ren?"

The look in her eyes made his heart stop. He watched her with growing dread.

Daile swallowed hard, stumbling over the words. Her voice was bleak. "We were attacked by a fiend outside the guard tower," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling. "He slew it, but it… it…" She drew a ragged breath. "My father is dead," she said quietly. "Ren o' the Blade is dead."

Miltiades hung his head. "Then this day Faerun has become a darker place indeed."

"Now where to?" Daile asked, sticking a pair of arrows into her leather belt.

Not a quarter hour before, Daile had broken down in tears as she told the story of her father's death. Now a cold light shone in her eyes, and there was a grim set to her jaw.

"This way," Kern said, pointing in one direction. He wasn't sure how to get out of the catacomb, but it was almost as if he heard a faint trilling in his mind, showing him the way.

"You hear the voice of Tyr's hammer, don't you?" Miltiades asked him softly.

"I… I think so, Miltiades." Kern cocked his ear, listening closely. The trilling had grown slightly louder.

The undead paladin nodded. "Your destiny calls you, Hammerseeker."

Kern led the way into a long, roughly hewn corridor which spiraled off into the darkness. The corridor opened into a larger chamber. With a word, Sirana conjured a small spark and flung it upward. When it struck the ceiling high above, it burst into a brilliant glowing ball, illuminating the chamber.

"I could have done that," Listle grumbled, banishing her own smaller puff of pale, silvery light with a perturbed gesture.

The chamber appeared to be a throne room of some sort. Two dark rows of columns, each carved in the form of a beast-faced pit fiend, supported the high domed ceiling. In the chamber's center was a raised dais bearing an onyx throne.

"Are you certain we're heading the right way, Kern?" Listle asked, scrambling over the remains of once opulent furniture. "I don't see any way out of here."

"This has to be right, Listle." He cocked his head and nodded. Yes, the hammer's song was clear. Suddenly he frowned. He could hear another sound as well, like a distant groaning. He glanced at the others. By their puzzled expressions, they heard it also. Rapidly the noise grew louder, building to a roar that echoed down the corridor.

"What is it?" Daile asked, gripping her bow with a white-knuckled hand.

"Does that answer your question?" Listle pointed, silvery eyes wide.

A small army of blank-eyed creatures lumbered into the chamber. Some were human in form, others elven or dwarven. All of them were horribly decayed. A putrid, overpowering reek preceded them. Jagged bones stuck out through their mottled skin, and chunks of flesh fell from their limbs as they moved. Their eyes bulged as they hungrily stretched out their arms.

"Ghouls!" Miltiades shouted to the others. "Arm yourselves!"

The first wave of creatures shambled within reach, baring their broken teeth. Like zombies, ghouls were undead, raised from the grave with evil magic. But unlike zombies, ghouls had an insatiable hunger for living flesh. Only Miltiades was of no interest to them.

Kern swung his warhammer in a blazing arc, smashing through the heads of the first two ghouls. Their bodies collapsed to the floor, twitching. In revulsion, Kern shook gobbets of rotting flesh off his weapon.

Daile loosed several arrows in rapid succession into the chest of another ghoul. The creature momentarily staggered backward, then continued forward, oblivious to the shafts protruding from its body. Realizing her bow was useless, the ranger quickly slung it over her shoulder and drew the magical daggers Right and Left from her boots. She slashed out at a ghoul reaching for her. The enchanted blades sliced through the thing's flesh, both of its arms dropping to the floor with a sickening plop. The ghoul stumbled away in a daze.

With his broadsword, Miltiades was cutting a wide swath through the horde of undead. Listle uttered the words of a spell, and suddenly a half-dozen of the ghouls were transformed into healthy, live humans and elves. It was an illusion, of course. However, seeing apparently living beings in their midst sent a score of ghouls into a frenzy. They dragged the illusory creatures to the floor and began to feed on them.

Kern had lost count of how many ghouls his warhammer crushed into pulp. Magical lightning sizzled and crackled constantly over the ranks of the undead, charring them to ashes-the work of Sirana's magic. Yet despite the broken, twitching bodies that piled up, still more ghouls shambled forward. Kern's heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't certain how long he could keep up the steady onslaught of his hammer. But the moment he stopped, the ghouls would drag him down with their clammy hands and start feasting.

He kept fighting.

A cry of pain snapped his gaze around. He saw Daile stagger backward. A ghoul had torn a ragged gouge the length of her arm. Swiftly Miltiades stepped next to her, cleaving the filthy ghoul in two with one swing of his sword. The ranger clenched her jaw against the pain as she continued to lash out with her deadly daggers.