The Thayan, the Bitch, and the Wardrobe
The long journey that brought them to Carceri had fortified them immensely thus allowing both Tilly and Grimm to resist the death-dealing effect of the wail of the banshee. Before they could launch a counter-attack however, Dark Myrakul’s wings abruptly stopped moving as he plunged into the darkness of Skullrot’s interior.
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Countless calculations ran through Rusty’s mind. Based on the wail alone, it was abundantly clear that they were facing a spellcaster whose power at least matched their own. For this very occasion, he had memorized just a spell to turn the tables, ensuring the Bright Axes would enjoy a decisive victory. However, the magic was of such power that Mystra would grant him but one casting per day.
But what of Adimarchus?
Rusty knew that the caged demon prince likely possessed potent arcane energy but would not resort to casting spells – at least not as a mortal would. Yes, indeed it was a measured risk for they would be losing a powerful weapon against the final enemy.
He would do it, he decided, and trust his fate to Tymora.
As his companions moved forward to engage the fleshy abomination that Dark Myrakul had left behind, Rusty readied to cast his spell.
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Like a supremely trained athlete – an epitome of physical prowess and efficiency – Tilly, Grimm, Kiko, and Ike converged upon the giant dragonflesh golem. While Grimm and Kiko flanked it and kept it off balance due to their extraordinary height, Tilly and Ike moved in close for the kill. They were further aided by Dalthon who slowly stripped away the magical layers Dark Myrakul had erected to protect his most magnificent creation.
Meanwhile, Rusty nodded to Gunther as his younger companion rushed to the ledge where the Lichfiend had descended. If a trap was to be set, a bait was required.
Squinting, the little dwarf allowed his sight to shift into darkvision as he scanned around for his quarry. Upon seeing Dark Myrakul, he fired off a scorching ray which was easily thwarted by the fiend’s resistance to magic.
Shaking his head with utter contempt, the cleric responded with a much more potent energy drain whose crackling energy slammed into Gunther – weakening him greatly and eliminating many of his stronger memorized spells.
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Nidrama and Houshang paid far less attention to the current tactical situation on hand as they planned their long-term strategies.
Take them in the back now, while they waste time on this creature. Then annihilate Adimarchus!
“Shut up and watch,” the Pit Fiend whispered under her breath. She had not amassed her current level of power through mindless slaughter.
Wait.
She chuckled inwardly as she corrected herself -- though she certainly enjoyed the occasional carnage, it was tempered with watchful waiting.
As she had done with Irae T’ssaren and Nalavara, she provided her tacit support until a critical point in the battle. In the case of Irae, it has netted her a sentient construct, a legion of undead followers, and the patronage of a deity. Of course, crossing Joachim and Nurn in Nalavara’s Bastion of Broken Souls had nearly cost her her life.
She would wait a little longer, she decided.
The Ashen Blade, by the gods where is that damn thing?
Houshang thoughts idled as he tossed disintegrates and polymorphs at Dark Myrakul’s rampaging construct. As an accomplished student of all things arcane, he fully knew that such magic would be wasted on the golem – but one had to keep up appearances.
Subtlety was obviously something that was wasted on Nidrama, he thought smugly. Since he had joined the party, she had contributed virtually nothing to their cause with the exception of a minor abjuration or transmutation here and there.
He, on the other hand, knew that earning and keeping the Bright Axes’ trust was vital to his mission. For him to pinch an artifact from a demon prince (from his live or dead hands, the Red Wizard scarcely cared) was clearly not possible by himself.
This time, unlike in Acheron, he would exercise great caution to see that the mighty sword came to no harm. The Ashen Blade so far exceeded the power of the trinket he had originally been sent to retrieve from Imperagon that Houshang knew that he would be well-rewarded upon his return to Thay.
Forgiveness from the Zulkir? Hah, such a wish lacked ambition – likely he would rise even higher in the magocracy.
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It was appropriate that Ike, once again, administered the final blows that took down the dragonflesh golem. In a way it was fitting that he had exacted a measure of personal revenge for all the suffering those monsters had inflicted on him and countless others.
With the golem destroyed, their final plan was enacted.
“Dalthon, Grimm, get into yer freakin’ positions NOW!!!”
Pulling his beleaguered cohort back, Rusty took Gunther's place and began casting.
Dark Myrakul’s eyes widened in panic as he realized what the dwarf would do. In mere moments, all the magical defenses he had carefully constructed were torn asunder by the power of the disjunction. True his undead flesh was resistant, but that hardly mattered consider the elite caliber of his enemies.
As if to accentuate that point, a thin green disintegrate from Dalthon’s outstretched palm lanced the Lichfiend. He buckled as he tried to fight the raging magical energies that consumed him, but without his magic little could be done. Barely able to retain flight, the last thing Dark Myrakul saw was a spiked chain piercing his dessicated flesh.
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“What now?”
“We open the cage, destroy Adimarchus, the Realms is saved, blah, blah, blah . . .”
“Aye Red Wizard, but aren’t a wee bit enthusiastic all of a sudden?”
Adrenaline still surging through his body from the last battle, Grimm was in no mood for conversation. This caged . . . thing had been responsible for innumerable deaths and the destruction of an entire town. He would be damned if he was going to let it live for one more second.
With his smoking eye, the planar champion knew intuitively what he must do.
As Grimm’s spiked chain struck the iron cage, it absolutely shattered as if hammer to glass.
Never before had the party seen a being’s expression go from a state of abject depression to pure elation in such a short time. Adimarchus immediately spread his white wings as his muscular ebon body was thrust upwards to the pinnacle of Skullrot.
Kill all of them now! Before they turn on you!
Ignoring his insane pleas, Nidrama executed her plans. First she invoked a time stop, causing the shocked expressions of her former comrades to be frozen in time – they had never suspected that a mere Deva could cast such a mighty spell.
Oh, but the surprises were just beginning!
Flying upwards quickly to the level where Dark Myrakul’s construct still twitched lifelessly in a mass of viscera, she stood against the wall and sealed herself off with a wall of force. Finally, she conjured a dimensional lock around her, ensuring that nobody could join her in relative safety.
She calmly sat down as the time stream resumed. A perfect view, she decided, to witness a deadly conflict unscathed . . . and intervene when appropriate.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
