A Paladin's Duty

Purveyor of Sin

A Paladin's Duty

The afternoon sun beat down on the dirt road as Lady Denora urged her white mare forward. Dust clung to her polished armor, dulling the silver plates that had shone brilliantly when she'd left the capital three days prior. The holy symbol of Aethelmar hung heavy between her breasts, a golden sunburst suspended on a thick chain, marking her as a paladin of the highest order.

Twenty-six years old and already a legend. Slayer of the Crimson Drake. Purifier of the Blighted Wastes. Champion of the Faith.

And currently hunting a beast that had butchered seventeen villagers in the span of two weeks.

The village of Millbrook appeared ahead, a cluster of thatched roofs and weathered buildings huddled around a central square. Smoke rose from chimneys. Chickens scattered as Denora's mare clip-clopped down the main street.

Faces appeared in windows, then quickly vanished. Not unusual in rural villages when strangers arrived. But something felt off. The streets stood empty despite the hour. No merchants hawking wares. No children playing.

Fear hung thick in the air.

Denora dismounted near the well, her armor clinking with each movement. The breastplate had been specially crafted to accommodate her generous curves, custom-forged by the armorsmiths of the capital at considerable expense. The opening at the top left a fair amount of her cleavage exposed, drawing the eye to the valley between her breasts where the golden sunburst rested against bare skin. She'd endured countless stares and whispered comments during the fitting process, but the design served a purpose beyond aesthetics. The holy symbol required direct exposure to sunlight as well as unbroken contact with her flesh to channel Aethelmar's divine power effectively. Any barrier between the sacred metal and her skin would dampen its potency, potentially costing her life in battle. It was a practical necessity that had nonetheless drawn more than one inappropriate comment from the smiths, their eyes lingering longer than professional courtesy demanded. She'd learned to ignore such attention years ago, though it never quite stopped grating on her nerves. But functionality mattered more than modesty in battle.

"Good people of Millbrook," she called out, her voice carrying authority despite its feminine lilt. "I am Lady Denora, Paladin of Aethelmar. I've come regarding the creature terrorizing your village."

A door creaked open. An elderly woman peered out, eyes wide with a mixture of hope and suspicion.

"You're here about the beast?"

"I am. Where might I find your village elder?"

The woman pointed a gnarled finger toward a larger building at the square's edge. "Elder Grimwood's hall. But he's... occupied at present. Been in there all morning with the other men, discussing what to do."

"Thank you." Denora strode toward the hall, her hand resting on the pommel of her blessed sword. The weapon had never failed her. Forged in holy fire, inscribed with prayers, it could cut through demonic flesh like butter.

Whatever this beast was, it would fall before her blade.

The hall's heavy door swung open at her touch. Inside, a dozen men sat around a rough wooden table, their conversation dying the moment she entered. They ranged from weathered farmers to younger men barely out of boyhood.

An older man with a salt-and-pepper beard stood. "I am Elder Grimwood. Are you the paladin the capital sent?"

"Lady Denora. Tell me about the creature."

Grimwood gestured to an empty chair, but Denora remained standing. Her armor made sitting uncomfortable anyway.

"Started two weeks past. First victim was Old Marsh's daughter. Found her in the woods, torn apart. Then the Miller boy. Then three more. Always at night. Always torn to pieces."

"What have the survivors seen?"

"No survivors, milady. Those who encounter it don't live to tell tales."

One of the younger men spoke up, barely eighteen, with sandy hair and nervous eyes. "My brother saw something. Three nights ago. Said it was massive, walked on four legs, had eyes that glowed red in the dark."

"Where did this occur?"

"Edge of the woods. Northern side. There's an old shrine there, abandoned for years."

Perfect. A monster lair near holy ground. Classic pattern.

"I'll investigate the shrine. If the creature lairs there, I'll end this tonight."

Relief washed over the gathered faces. Elder Grimwood clasped her armored hand. "The goddess sent you to us, milady. We're in your debt."

"Save your gratitude until the deed is done. Now, I'll need information about the shrine's location."

The sandy-haired boy stood. "I can show...