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[stonegod]

It was a scene that few would believe afterwards: A host of eladrin, a witch queen, two demon lord envoys, and the Lord of Death. All with a singular purpose: Stop Demogoron. But the reasons were vastly different.

Orcus and Gwynharwyf were arguing on how best to assault Demogorgon's fortress city of Lemoriax when the party finally arrived. The first wanted to smash it directly with wave after wave of demons, undead, and eladrin. Gwynharwyf was adamantly against it; her forces were sure to be decimated in such a frontal assault. The smug grin on the goat-lord's face was all that need to answer: The dead fight for me. The more dead, the better. The eladrin queen tightened the grip on her scimitars.

Roundabout and Lyddie cooled tensions, reiterating that infighting would not gain the common objective. Meanwhile, Mad Col surveyed the map. The Gaping Maw was layed out before them: the Screaming Jungle, the Brine Flats, Lemoriax, and their true destination—Wat Dagon, where the Savage Tide would begin or be ended.

The battle is yours, not mine. Iggwilv voice was strong with an undertone of power. But I will provide help thusly. The Prince of Demons wards against invasion by planar means. But even he cannot protect all fronts. I will provide the portals to the plane, enough for all your forces. I need only to know where. Her secret smile at the end showed her joy in seeing the others argue.

Orcus wanted to use his forced to attack Lemoriax directly—after all, Wat Dagon was closed off unless Lemoriax was neutralized he added smugly. Gwynharwyf suggested a more indirect strategy by invading from the beach heads on either side of the city, crushing it in a vice. Charon's envoy indicated his lord's forces would be keeping Demogoron's naval forces at bay, so only the Lord of Undead and Whirling Fury's forces would be on the ground.

As for Malcanthet, she just smiled an listened. I have no forces to spare, sweetmeats. I am here just to watch. Her smile was as smug as the Witch Queen's.

The debate raged for an hour. Mad Col indicated another weak spot away from Lemoriax's main force, but close enough to assist a direct assault via a flank. But none had suggested opening a gate there. This 'ere be th'place t'stab at the 'eart of Demogoron. Why we be no discuss' this?

Arendagrost, the Queen of Succubi mentioned casually.

Lyddie and Roundabout watched as Mad Col blanched. Whatever 'Arendagrost' was, if it put a pallor on the madman that used an obyrith to possess a corpse in a dread ritual for his own defense, it must be fearful indeed.

Aye, the Maw of the Abyss. A beast so foul, even its demonic parents could no look on it. Col shot a sidewise glance at Malcanthet. Three 'eads, able t'breathe doom from each one, an'canna kill ya at a'look. Nasty bit of work, it is.

Guess that's where we come in. Roundabout did not look happy about it.

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And so it was decided: Orcus would lead his legions against the main Lemoriax forces as a distraction to weaken them. The eladrin force would trek overland as part of a flanking maneuver, while the party and one of Orcus' legions would deal with the beast Arendagrost and close the pincer formation on the other side. With that, all that was left was the preparations.

The group retreated back to their redoubt on the Styx: The Brine Harlot, Bin's flagship (formerly Vanthus' before his first death). Roundabout and Lyddie spent time in divination, seeking what help they could for the battle ahead. As for Col, dark and terrible sounds could be heard from his warded corridors. The sounds went beyond the Mad One's normal bindings, suggesting Col was using every dirty trick he could in preparation. The demonic twin countenance of the wolf-and-snake headed molydeus that followed the malconvoker from thence on and the somewhat unnatural tinge to Col and Churtle's skins bespoke the depths to which the Mad One would go. Few bargains were too steep if it would keep Col Tobinson alive.

As they gathered together to join Iggwilv for the final assault, Roundabout looked at them all with worry.

36 Hours. Less than 36 hours until the Savage Tide.