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[stonegod]

Intoning arcane words beyond mortal ken, the Witch Queen tore open holes in the multiverse, piercing the boundaries between here and the dread Abysm. Portal upon portal opened, and through marched the unlikeliest army every seen: Mortals, eladrin, demons, and undead, all working towards a common purpose of sorts.

The smallest portal was reserved for the party. It was an ancilliary beachhead deep within the jungle. The group was to weakened up the forces so Orcus' other platoon could come in en mass, flanking Demogorgon's defenses. Through the gateway, the group could see a cleared jungle landscape and stone entrenchments with the massive forms of hezrou, the slinking shadows of babau, and several marilith generals waiting.

Let's do this. Bin said, riding his massive, specially bred war-mount.

The party stepped into battle. Immediately, the demons armed massive arcane defenses that shot forth balls of acid or missles of force. The barrage nearly took down one of the death giants Orcus had lent for the assault. The group scattered to minimize that strategy. Col called forth clouds of thick acidic fog to neutralize the ballista while Bin rushed in. Liddie pinned in some forces with summon barriers of force, but the marilliths returned the favor with similar walls to hedge her in. But Col had prepared the party with flight, so bypassing the blades were childs-play, and none were harmed by the now useless mines in the deadsman zone.

With their major means of damage removed, the battle was over before it began. Bin, Oscar, and some fiends bound to Col's will handled most of the cleanup, though Churtle's blasts of power finished one or two. Toby was particularly useless, a story that would repeat itself over the course of the attack.

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As they secured the facility, the portal widened and Orcus' forces began to amass for the secondary assault. One of the messengers approach the group. The V Asphyxian has been lost and its the portal blocked there somehow. Our Lord Orcus must have that gate open if the assault is to succeed. The group all looked sour at the suggestion, especially the implication that Orucs lead the battle, but the implication was clear—the Prince of the Undead was not going to commit his forces unless the gate way clear.

And the party had to handle it.

Moving through the jungle as quickly as they could, the group soon came upon another portal clearing. They smelled it long before they saw it however: It was a scene of death. The forces here had not fought a battle, they had been obliterated. Parts of pieces of what may have been limbs could be seen. Of what caused the carnage, there was no sign.

The only indication of something barring extradimensional passage was an odd totem at the center of the clearing. Col and Roundabout's arcane senses picked up something else wrong soon after—antimagic. It surrounded the totem. Immediately, Col refused to approach; the wily wizard knew his arts, and thus all his defenses, would be moot; the wizard would not place himself in such danger. After a lengthy, circular argument, it was agreed that Bin and Roundabout would fly about the zone and investigate by lowering the latter down.

Soon, the adventuresome explorer was dangling from a rope like bulette bait. The rest of the group approach the dead magic from different sides, waiting. Just as Roudabout entered the dead magic zone, a green blur broke through the soil, and three mighty jaws snapped at the hanging rouge. Through shear luck, all missed, and Bin pulled his flying mount up just in time.

Freed from its earthly coil, Arendagrost the mighty roared at the gathered party. To describe it would be madness itself. Three heads as mighty as dragons but as twisted in appearance as they were strong. And where they met the body could not be seen, for all that remained were tentacles, uncountable tentacles that writhed and seethed like a boiling molasses of dread. Just to look upon the spawn of Demogorgon turned the stomach.

The group was at an impasse. None wanted to venture forth, and the beast Arendagrost was content to wait. It would taunt the party, coming to the edge of the ward and bellowing. Once, Liddie got too close as was caught in its vile breath that ate at her skin. The next time it did this, the group was ready and assaulted it in tandum. But even then, it was barely harmed and quickly began to heal within the confines of its dead-magic protection.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. From his belongings, Col pulled forth a tome bound in the flesh of fiends, written in the blood of mortals, and containing the secrets of the Witch Queen herself. Had she known the Mad One had one of the lost copies of her Tome, Iggwilv would have certainly demanded it back. But Col was sly and knew better than to sacrifice one of his greatest tools in controlling fiends. Chanting dark syllables that would raise the hairs of any that followed good (but none of that type would be found today), Col called forth one of the primordial evils—a titan greater than those that usually bear the name and taller than most of the high buildings in Waterdeep.

With a sweep of its hammer, the mighty titan smashed into the dark spawn's side, wounding it terribly. But it too snapped at the giant foe, wounding him nearly as much. Magic and hammer, jaws and breath, they were near evenly matched it seemed, though Col's dark secrets gave his forced servant the edge. But it would be close, and all the while the rest of the party was taking wounds. More would have to done.

The battle raged around the bounds of the antimagic zone. Col, and the molydeus demon he had bound to be his protector, prepared a trap for the next the Maw of the Abyss would step out. And as it surged forth, Col chanted the words of maze, shunting Arendagrost to a demiplane while his protector demon warded the area from dimensional travel. It was a gamble; even the learned conjuror did not know if the dark spawn would be trapped forever, shunted away, or return in full health.

Ten minutes passed,

Twenty.

Soon it was clear that the trap had worked. Wherever Arendagrost, Maw of the Abyss, was, it was not here.

Soon, smashed under a titan's hammer, the totem was destroyed and Orcus' forces began to return. It was almost time for the final push. Only one thing rememained: Demogorgon's mightest general, a son of his flesh. Tetradarian.

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Meanwhile...

It was a tranquil day in Shadowdale. Few knew of the battle that raged for the multiverse in the Abyss. Farmers tilled, bakers baked, and life was as it should be.

And then, without warning, without precedent, a warble in the face of reality spewed forth a thing of nightmares, its three heads bellowing in rage and its tentacles destroying ten buildings in one attack.

Arendagrost had come to Shadowdale.