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Message: <blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 2274513" data-attributes="member: 1210">Escape from Hell!The stars slip out of alignment.  The conjunction ends as quickly as it began.***The head of Asmodeus lands with a wet thud, next to Grimdim’s boot.  He grins a feral grin.  The huge corpse of the dragon lies battered and bloodied; the pit fiends are all fallen; Martinet and Glasya are slain.Grimdim says something, but Inoke can’t quite hear him.  He seems to be... fading.  As Inoke looks around, he realizes the same thing is happening to Bennodel, Lazenby, Jared and Kyrion.“What’s happening?” cries the warmind.  “They’re... disappearing!”“It must be the conjunction,” Orbius reasons.  “Our worlds are too far apart- we don’t share much in the way of a planar cosmology.  While the conjunction was in effect we could meet, here, in Hell, which both of our realms have contact with.  Once the conjunction has ended, we’ll be too far apart to interact even here.”“It was good getting to know you guys!” Horbin shouts.  But you need to loosen up a little, he adds mentally.  “What now?” asks Horbin.”Loot!” cries Gerontius.  His eyes are on the rod of ruby that Asmodeus had clutched.“There is no time.”Our heroes look up to see Glaisig standing in the doorway, next to the slain dragon.  “You must realize that every alarm in the multiverse is going off right now.  You must come quickly.”“Let’s just take the rod,” suggests Gerontius.”Fool!” hisses Glaisig.  “Would you allow him to return?”  Gerontius recoils.  “The rod of Hell must be destroyed- and the only one capable of doing so is my Master.”Our heroes are rooted with indecision for a moment.  The halfling drops to Asmodeus’ body and begins stripping it.  “I’ll just take the rest of this, then,” he says.  “He doesn’t need it any more.”“We must go now,” urges Glaisig.  “There is no time for this foolishness!”“All right, all right!”The party hurries through the Palace of Hell on the heels of their guide.  In the distance the sounds of battle are plain.  They wrap themselves in illusion and shadow, trying to avoid being detected, and at one point they are nearly found out by a pair of mighty pit fiends; then at last they reach a strange sealed hatch.“The entire palace is under a dimensional lock, and the surrounding environs are heavily guarded against planar travel as well.  However, there is a portal that will allow you to escape the warded area, and from there you can gate or plane shift home.”  Glaisig gestures at the portal.  “You must first pass through the sewers of Hell.”“Great,” groans Lillamere.“You have done very well.  My master shall not forget your aid.”“Your master is a devil, and you are a devil, and we want no thanks from either of you!” exclaims Alcar.  Glaisig merely bows.  “Hurry,” he urges.  “I must away.”  He turns and strides off, heading elsewhere in the palace.Horbin mutters darkly.  “Devils,” he groans.  “I hate devils!”  Alcar and Sir Maxwell both nod agreement.  ***The sewers of Hell are foul beyond words.  The filth is horrendous.  This is literally some evil sh*t.  Our heroes move as fast as they dare, trying to avoid touching anything, and the burbling sounds all around them are enough to make them queasy.  Combined with the unearthly fetor, it is stomach-churning.  Our heroes see several shapes moving in the distance or under the effluvia, but they try hard to disturb nothing, make little noise and expose themselves to nothing that might be a creature.  They move through hours of winding tunnels, following Horbin's find the path.Finally, they near the exit- but before they can reach it, a terrible watery beast rises from the thick flow below them.  It seems to be almost like a water elemental, but when it slaps a huge wave against Inoke, he forgets everything he knows.“It’s a Styx elemental!” cries Orbius.The party destroys it, Lester using his new collection of metamagic rods to good effect and softening it up.  It is Sir Maxwell who deals the final blow.  The whole time, Inoke cringes back from the fight, crying out, “What’s going on?  Where am I?  Somebody tell me what’s happening!”After the battle the party tries to settle Inoke down, and Horbin manages to restore his memories.  With a sigh of relief, our heroes move to the large sewer grate that leads out to the surface of the Ninth Hell: a blasted landscape, covered with jagged stones, scarred with fire and blood.  The stink of sulphur taints the air.  The wind is like a blast furnace.  Thick dark clouds hang close overhead.As our heroes emerge from the sewers, flying to the ground well away from the stench, Vaxaleth, Terror from the Skies, comes screaming out of the clouds at them!  A huge, dragon-shaped force of pure corruption and evil, Vaxaleth glows red-hot as he tears through the sky towards the party.  He has been set here to guard against their escape by those still loyal to Asmodeus.  And Vaxaleth is mighty, more than capable of overcoming any but the mightiest opponents.  Flame and unholy energy vomit from its mouth, burning Veil, Sir Maxwell and Alcar, all of whom cry out in terrible pain.   The party scatters.  Orbius time stops and erects a prismatic sphere.  Then he creates a sphere of ultimate destruction as the flow of time picks up again.  The party scatters to avoid all being caught in another blast of the breath weapon, while Vaxaleth vanishes from sight in the clouds above. Orbius fires a volley of seeker missiles, which streak up into the clouds, but it will be dumb luck if they find the dragon like this.  Orbius mulls the difficulty of the cloud cover, and uses a limited wish to disperse them.  Horbin follows this up with a miracle to grant mass flight to the party, allowing them considerably more mobility.  Lester, meanwhile, hammers Vaxaleth with a lightning-substituted flame strike.  This he follows up with a maximized, lightning-substitued meteor swarm.That’s enough.  The seeker missiles streak in as the corpse begins dropping like a huge scaled stone.  Vaxaleth, Terror from the Skies, is no more.Quickly the party returns to the find the path Horbin has going.  Soon it leads to what is unmistakably a portal: an arch of interconnected bones, seemingly growing from the bare ground.  In the distance, there is the rumbling din of a great battle.  “All right, let’s go!”  Grinning- can it be that they’ve succeeded and are going to escape?- Horbin takes a deep breath.  Thank you, Dexter, for helping us to perform these great works in Your name! he thinks, and steps through the portal and vanishes. Alcar follows- but to his surprise he passes through the arch and to the other side, not being transported anywhere. “There must be some kind of portal key!” Orbius declares.  “Something Horbin had, or did...”  Quickly he performs a simple divination and ascertains the answer.  “Humility,” he says.  “You must be humble.”“No problem,” Veil nods.  Thank you, Graz’zt, for your aid is destroying this great power of Law!  I am ever your humble servant.  Veil steps into the arch and vanishes.  One by one, most of our heroes do the same, each schooling themselves to humility in their own way.  Lester has a little trouble- his ego is the size of  a house- but the real difficulty comes when Inoke walks through- and the mace of St. John drops behind him, unable (or unwilling?) to pass through.Alcar tries to talk to it, to explain to it that it must place its faith in Galador and humble itself, which is ironic since Alcar has failed to pass through thrice by now.  But try as he might, the Angel of Food cannot persuade the mace, and when Alcar finally does pass through the archway, the mace of St. John passes from our story- at least for now.But let us remain, after our heroes have departed, for a few hours.  Let us watch the mace of St. John, alone on the ground, half a mile from the smoldering corpse of Vaxaleth, the Terror from the Skies.  Soon there are shadows flitting above it, as the battles continue to expand, and diabolic forces clash and fight against one another in the sky.  Terrible spells are cast, claws and teeth tear at fiendish flesh, minds are shattered beneath the weight of crushing psychic powers.  Finally, one devil, badly wounded and exhausted, spirals down next to the archway.  It is pursued by another, larger devil, who has smashed the wing and weapons of the smaller one.  Limping back, the smaller devil cannot avoid a crushing blow from its adversary.  It is knocked sprawling, and directly at hand there is a weapon- a mace!  It raises it up, blocking the death blow, and sweeps its attacker’s feet out from under it.  The two struggle for a moment, and the smaller devil sweeps his new mace into the larger devil’s face, smashing him down.  For a moment the wounded little devil stands over the body of his assailant.  He is shaky and wounded.  He glances upward; there is a battle he should be participating in going on up there, but...He looks around at the carnage.  He looks at the blood on his hands.He looks at his new mace.Anger flares, but not the constant hateful rage he usually feels.  This is more... righteous.  He will not partake of the slaughter today.  He has had enough of it.He storms away.  The mace of St. John continues its work.Next Time: Our heroes have escaped from Hell- but they aren’t quite done in their dealings with Glaisig.  What will be... their reward?</blockquote>

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