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Message: <blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 4017639" data-attributes="member: 1210">Dealing with the DevilWhatever the balor is smoking, it is very potent. First waves of euphoria, then a gentle buzz for a good hour.Followed by a nasty come down, with a terrible temper and a callous, reckless malevolence attached.For a time, Sybele, JJ and Gerontius all see the merits of the Abyssal point of view. Hell, they have championed Chaos long enough, like it or not; and they have all reveled in destroying their enemies, in slaying, slaying, slaying, up to their elbows in blood. Sybele grins rapaciously as she leans back in her withdrawal-induced state, thinking of just how many slaves will attend her once she is the Empress of Forinthia. Anything she wants, she will take. She will kill anyone who defies her will. And really, who could stand against her and her friends? Even if someone was powerful enough, the party is clever enough to deceive them, blind them with sugared words, and then, when they least expect it, in a very painful way- snap! The trap would come shut, and whoever dared to defy her would be slowly flayed alive, fed their own steaming intestines, served their own children as the wages of sin for their foolish intransigence! She chortles, full of malicious glee.JJ has a great time with the possessed, living body of Delilah in the den of Froth. Unspeakable horrors are inflicted on the poor thing; but neither JJ, nor Delilah herself, much care. To the demislaad, it is just a measure of his sudden and very strong devotion to Froth; to the undead conjuress, it is just another amusement in just another body of hers. It’s not like she doesn’t have dozens of spares, of all shapes and descriptions, all races, sexes and ages. But to despoil young, virgin flesh in such a torrid way- ah! It’s really quite touching to her. She remembers giving herself to Bleak so long ago, before she was undead at all. Back in her own body. In those few living days she had before centuries of unlife. Gerontius just keeps partying, though he is more inclined to pick a pocket here and there for fun. Of course, he is all too aware that nobody here is a worthy target; no one has treasure worth stealing to someone as powerful as him. He sneers disdainfully. But the drink, and the drugs, and the partying- ah! Now those are as good as ever. Sigil is a universal crossroads. All things worth having (all those not worth having, too, frankly) come through the City of Doors- and all the things worth drinking, smoking or snorting have come to the Chaos Party.Payton, the hunter of the dead that assisted the party in their battles against the demilich Acererak and his Tomb of Horrors, arrives. Sybele and he spend a good hour together, talking smack about the undead, including those in the party. But even Payton doesn’t pick a fight. All in all, the party is smashing. ***In a dark corner, Alcar sneaks off for a meeting. He slips out of the party unseen and hurries along for a short distance before turning down a dark alley to await the other half of the meeting.Who, it turns out, is already there, lurking. He seems to materialize from the shadows in the alleyway, tall, crimson-skinned, dangerous-looking. A whiff of tasteful cologne comes off the tall, devilish figure.“You wished to speak?” Glaisig inquires politely.“Yes,” Alcar nods. He hesitates for a second, then plunges on ahead. “I would like to have a meeting regarding some of my concerns. We know of certain powerful entities that are profoundly bad for our home plane- the Bile Lords and the Queen of Guts.”Glaisig cocks his head. “You know of whom I speak, then?” The angel lets his words hang in the air for a moment before forging on. “They will destroy all that is within their reach. They will kill all the humans whose souls you prey on, or pollute them into bile monsters. Surely, the loss of such a potential hunting ground as Pesh would be a terrible blow to you.”“It is of little consequence to us, actually,” Glaisig sniffs. “Your vision is still so small, Alcar. I am disappointed.”“Your help would be of considerable use to us,” Alcar urges. “I am willing to make a deal. You help me, and I will help you. I have some information you may be interested in.”“Really. Information. How droll.” Glaisig smirks. “And what is it you seek in return? Surely, you do not expect us to adventure with you?”“Perhaps information for information,” Alcar retorts. The meeting doesn’t feel as in his control as he had hoped it would. “It is difficult, at best, to teleport within Bile Mountain, at least the upper levels. But we also have reason to believe that there are connections to the plane of Shadow within it. If you could help us find... hidden ways... that we could take to get deep inside without having to fight our way through the whole place, that would help a great deal.”“And exactly what is it that you think you know that we do not?” The scorn in Glaisig’s voice makes Alcar blush. But he does have information, gleaned in Sigil, which he expects that the devils will want.“For one thing,” Alcar says, “demons are making serious inroads into the Hells. They’re going much deeper than they ever have before, at least in any recorded histories that I have seen. Your master may have taken the Hells, but it seems that he will be lucky to hold on to them.” Alcar’s eyes flash. “Unless we help him.” Dangling the prospect of more than just information.Glaisig throws back his head and laughs. “Oh, you will have to do better than that!” he chortles. “Yes, we know all about the demonic invasions. You need not concern yourself. Everything is going exactly according to plan.” Alcar is startled at how visible the devil’s emotions suddenly are. Even Glaisig, the Hidden Minister, cannot help but allow some of the gloating to come out into his voice.The angel, for once, is rendered silent for a moment. Glaisig’s apparent knowledge- and condoning!- of the demonic attack is unnerving. I thought he might know, the angel reflects, but I never expected him to encourage the demonic invasion. There is something more going on here, something huge... but what?Smiling, with Alcar at a disadvantage, Glaisig continues, “If you want our help with your Bile Lords... you will need to do something that I want.”“What is it?” Alcar demands. “I want you to kill someone.”“I don’t know about that,” Alcar starts, but Glaisig continues smoothly.“He is from another plane entirely, a parallel prime called Thydra. He is the mayor of a town called Lantinum.”Alcar hesitates for a long moment. To defeat the Bile Lords... he thinks. Finally, after the moment stretches into almost a minute, he asks, “What is the nature of this man’s character?”“Oh, he’s no holy man, if that’s what you mean,” Glaisig answers. “He’s a petty tyrant of his town. Nobody to be proud of. After all, if his soul is going to end up in our hands, he couldn’t have been a very ‘Good’ person, could he?”Alcar can’t argue with that. If he’s evil, then it’s okay, he rationalizes. “All right,” he says.The Hidden Minister gives the Angel of Lost Causes a tuning fork of the proper material and note to take him to Thydra. They shake hands to close the deal. Glaisig’s face is composed again; no emotions show on it, nor do they reflect in his scarlet eyes. “One more thing,” Alcar growls while their hands are clasped. Glaisig cocks an eyebrow. “I don’t like you, or your master. I’m only working with you because we need your help. Don’t try to cross us, or to mess with our people. Or you know what will happen.” Glaisig smiles. “Why, Alcar, we wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, obviously lying- and obviously intentionally making it obvious. “But do not worry.” His voice returns to its warm neutrality. “We have no imminent designs on you and yours. We can wait.”“There are other threats, too,” Alcar declares. “Beyond the Bile Lords. The Angels of the Apocalypse. One of them was once a god. You are old- very old. So are they.”Glaisig remains smugly silent. “I’ll be in touch,” the angel snarls. “Of course you will.”***When a cute little halfling wench rolls into the party, she and Gerontius are quickly all over each other. Things get rather heated, but when the rest of the party starts egging him on over the telepathic bond, it spoils the mood. Gerontius leaves her hot and wanting more; maybe they will meet again some time. Some time, that is, when his damn friends are asleep or dead. He smirks evilly and goes to seek out Delilah the Damned. When he finally finds her, emerging in the ravaged shell of the body that she is wearing, he inquires about an old job offer she once made to him. Unfortunately, said opportunity has fled; but she promises to keep him in mind in the future. Meanwhile, Arion the Archmage has arrived at the party, already stinking drunk, and he obliterates a wall and replaces it with a permanent wall of force in the first fifteen minutes that he is there. The place’s owners look a little beleaguered, but when several of the partygoers toss in obscene amounts of money (compared to the owner’s normal annual income), he shuts right up about it. Alcar- back from one deal making session in time to make another, this time with Dzaram- uses a miracle to ape a quicksober on the archmage. Of course, it won’t last, but at least for a few minutes, Arion won’t be causing any trouble.The party keeps going all night.Next Time: The party makes a quick trip to Thydra!</blockquote>

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