JollyDoc's Savage Tide-Updated 10/8!

Standing in the center of the arena, surrounded by stands full of howling demons and undead, Tower Cleaver practically glowed with the power of the defensive and offensive wards draped layer upon layer on him by Mandi and Daelric. Circling around his head where twenty-two silvery globes. All Mandi had told him was that would stop his opponents from throwing their own spells at him, which suited the minotaur just fine. He preferred a stand-up fight. At the other side of the arena floor stood the two giants, whose names had been announced as Lestra and Orbenent, and the horrible crawling head, who had a name as well, Lertyck Trumbel. Cleaver thought it odd that a severed head should have a name. He would have just called it ‘meat.’ Mentally, he shrugged. It didn’t matter. He was here for one reason and one reason only. If the strange creatures he would soon be sinking his axe into wanted to have names, let them. At least they’d have something to write on their tombstones.

Above the spectators was Orcus’s private box, and there the demon lord sat, with the Legionnaires seated at his feet.
“This should prove an interesting contest, don’t you think?” Orcus rumbled.
“Very,” Sepoto agreed. “Would you care to put a small wager on the outcome…my Lord?”
The ram-like head looked down at him, eyes narrowing shrewdly.
“Oh, we already have a wager,” he replied, grinning broadly. “A very valuable one at that.”
Sepoto swallowed hard.

“Let mortal combat begin!” Orcus’s voice thundered from above, and immediately the giants were in motion. Cleaver felt two blasts of power wash over him as two of the circling orbs winked out of existence. Mandi must have been right. Not wasting time, the minotaur took to the air, and closed the distance between him and his foes. As he approached, he saw that each of the giants had what appeared to be clouds of circling, wailing ghosts around them. Cleaver supposed they were meant to frighten him. He would show them that he was not so easily intimidated. He swooped over the giants’ heads, easily parrying the blows they aimed at him with their massive axes. Another sphere vanished as Lertyck Trumbel released some unknown magic at him. Then, Cleaver’s own axe came down, slicing into all three foes at once with the force of his mighty swing. This was going to be easy, he thought, though he had hoped for a better challenge. At that moment, however, he saw that the crawling head’s wounds were vanishing, leaving nary a scare behind. In the next instant, Trumbel lunged forward, locking his jaws around the haft of Cleaver’s glowing axe, and wrenching it from his hands.

“Oooohhh!” Orcus crowed. “Did you see that?” He elbowed Sepoto sharply. “Doesn’t look good for your man!”
“Don’t count Cleaver out yet…my Lord,” the crusader replied, rubbing his sore shoulder. “He’s not as dumb as he looks.”

As Lertyck Trumbel began shambling away with his axe, Tower Cleaver snorted in rage. Reaching over his shoulder, he drew a second axe that was slung there. Though nowhere near as powerful as his Sun Blade, the flaming weapon was still trustworthy and could cut deep. He swung it wide, catching Trumbel just before he moved out of reach, and slamming the back of the weapon into Lestra on the backswing. At that moment, however, a greasy black cloud settled over Cleaver, burning like acid as Orbenet encased him in a blight of unholy power. Strangely, Mandi’s hovering spheres had not blocked the spell, but then another vanished as the retreating Lertyck Trumbel hurled another dweomer Cleaver’s way. The barbarian brushed aside the pain, cutting loose again with his blade, hammering repeatedly at the pair of death giants.

“I told you so,” Sepoto smiled, looking up at Orcus.
“It’s only a matter of time and attrition,” the demon lord grumbled. “Behold!”
When Sepoto looked back, he saw that one of the giants appeared to be healing its own wounds, while the crawling head continued to pick off Mandi’s protective spheres. Suddenly, however, a gasp went through the crowd as Tower Cleaver buried his axe between Lestra’s eyes and the death giantess collapsed.
“I hate to say it…” Sepoto began.
“I haven’t heard any fat lady yet,” Orcus replied.

Cleaver turned from his fallen foe, axe raised towards the second giantess. When he saw the evil smile appear on Orbenet’s face, however, he quickly whirled around. Lestra’s body began to writhe and convulse violently as she lurched back to her feet. Her skin quickly began to shrivel into an emaciated husk, and her abdominal cavity popped open, emitting a noxious cloud. Inside, there appeared to be a shrunken version of the giantess, clinging to the ribcage as if it were the bars of a prison. Giggling maniacally, the horrible symbiote began circling away from Cleaver, heading towards Lertyck Trumbel. As it went, more spheres vanished from around the minotaur as this new abomination added its own powers to those of the crawling head. Cleaver turned back to Orbenet, who was still smiling.
“What so funny?” he hissed, and then swung his blade low, nearly cleaving the giantess in two as he sank the axe head deep into her torso. Mouth open, eyes wide, Orbenet sank silently to the ground.
“Who laughing now?” Cleaver said, and spat on her corpse as he passed by.

“Is that fair?” Sepoto asked. “I thought he only had to defeat your three champions, not their reanimated corpses as well.”
“You thought wrong,” Orcus smiled. “If he were a better tactician, instead of a mindless brute, he would have gone after Trumbel first. Now he is paying for his lack of foresight.”

If Cleaver were actually paying, the cost was relatively inexpensive. The thing that had been Lestra went down a second time beneath a withering flurry of swings from his axe. His blade struck Lertyck Trumbel as well, but each time it did, the crawling head made an odd gulping sound, and its wounds healed as quickly as Cleaver inflicted them. Then, to Tower Cleaver’s immense irritation, Orbenet’s body rose from the ground, looking exactly like what Lestra had become. Immediately, the second walking corpse began loosing magic at him, and Lertyck Trumbel joined in as well, causing sphere after sphere to disappear. This cycle continued for a time, with Cleaver hammering at the crawling head, only to have the creature heal itself immediately, all the while whittling away at Mandi’s protective spheres. Soon, only a handful remained, and Cleaver knew that it was time for a new strategy. Turning away from Trumbel, he charged back across the arena floor towards Orbenet, and slammed his blade into the newly created undead. Then, a cheer from the crowd caused him to whip his head around, just as Lertyck Trumbel’s bulk heaved itself towards him, stripping his axe from his hands again. The crawling head now held both of Cleaver’s weapons in its sickly tendrils.

“Now that’s what I call tactics!” Orcus whooped. “Do you see the genius in Trumbel’s plan?”
“Umm…not really,” Sepoto said. “What I see is one of the giants down…twice…and one a shambling corpse, and Cleaver’s barely got a scratch on him.”
“Wait….just wait,” Orcus giggled. “It won’t be long now…”

And in that, the Prince of Undeath couldn’t have been more correct. Tower Cleaver’s eyes blazed with red fire as the rage overcame him. Snorting and bellowing, he leaped at Lertyck Trumbel, seizing the haft of his Sun Blade and wrenching it violently from the crawling head’s tentacles. Then, with a roar that rivaled the roar of the crowd, Cleaver raised the weapon high, where it glowed with the light of the sun itself, and drove it down repeatedly, again and again, into Lertyck Trumbel’s bloated face. Within seconds, the crawling head was a corpse once more. Almost as an afterthought, Cleaver turned and neatly decapitated Orbenet.

Orcus remained silent for several long seconds, and Sepoto and his companions held their breath, waiting. Finally, the demon lord chortled to himself.
“Your strength is great,” he said. “You might have a chance. My armies will march against Gaping Maw, legions upon legions, sweeping the pretender’s armies before them. I promise that. I hope that you do not find Demogorgon before I and my generals do. I will tear him in half and animate his divided corpse so that his two heads can grovel at the foot of my throne until they crumble to dust! You have slaughtered some of my favorite minions, but I forgive you. However, my armies will require weeks to mobilize and travel to Gaping Maw. Gather your other allies. If your plan fails, know that my followers will find your bones and bring them to me. If this is treachery, you will not survive it. Leave my kingdom now, before I change my mind. When you make your move against Demogorgon, I will be there to win your battle for you!”
 

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With Orcus on board, that left only three potential allies for the Legion to recruit. According to Iggwilv’s advice, the first of these that they should approach was Malcanthet, the Queen of Succubi. Her realm was Shendilavri, the 570th layer of the Abyss. At first glance, her domain seemed like a slice of Heaven rather than its opposite. The temperature was constantly balmy, and the landscape was one of green, rolling hills, sweeping panoramic mountains, and a lush ocean, but Mandi knew what lay beneath the façade. Shendilavri was a paradise for Malcanthet alone, and its every charming feature existed only to lull visitors into a false sense of safety. Its truth lay hidden in its expansive torture gardens, flensing pits and pleasure dungeons.

The River Styx was unusually crowded as it wound through the beautiful city of Miomanta, Malcanthet’s summer home. On closer inspection, however, most of the river traffic seemed to consist of black barges, crewed by vrock’s and hezrou, bearing cargo of damned souls. The city itself was a mix of beauty and ramshackle slums, with a sprawling central district known commonly as the Fleshpits. Surrounding this central expanse were the homes of Malcanthet’s thirteen closest servitors, the Radiant Sisters. Each manor was modeled blasphemously to temples dedicated to gods of Law and Good. But the palace that towered over the city from its tallest hill was Miomanta’s most obvious landmark, with its walls of pink and cream-colored marble, its red tile roof, and its many windows that reminded the viewer of unfolding flowers. Its towers were topped by glowing domes upon which dozens of succubi roosted.

As the Sea Wyvern entered the harbor, a series of shouts drew the attention of those gathered on deck. A barge was unloading, and another was just leaving the dock. A six-armed marilith waved at the Wyvern, pointing at the recently vacated space. Mandi guided the caravel masterfully into its slip. Cautioning the crew to remain onboard, the Legionnaires disembarked.
“Nourishment,” the marilith said as she glanced at Tower Cleaver and jotted something down in a ledger.
“Crafter,” she said, indicating Mandi. “Labor,” she pointed out Sepoto. “Entertainment,” she said to Marius, and then, “Nourishment, nourishment,” she indicated Daelric and Octurus last.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Sepoto said, clearing his throat. The marilith suddenly had six weapons drawn, one in each hand. A second marilith had joined her at this point.
“Please,” the goliath said, placatingly and holding up arms to show that he was unarmed. “We bear messages and greeting to your mistress from Iggwilv, Orcus and the Court of Stars.”
For a moment, it seemed as if the marilith might burst out laughing, but then she seemed to think better of it.
“Very well,” she said in exasperation, “you may pass, but be warned, you must be ‘properly clothed,’ before you are allowed an audience. You must all abide by the…dress code. This means all of you bare-ass naked.” She smiled wickedly. “You may wear cloaks and jewelry, but naught else.”
Mandi glanced back at her wide-eyed companions, and then shrugged. “You heard the lady,” she said, “so start stripping, boys.”
 

The six companions paraded through the streets of Shendilavri, but not many gave them a second glance, though several nodded appreciatively at Tower Cleaver and Sepoto. Soon, they reached the palace and found the doors flung wide. Inside, no matter where they looked, naked demons cavorted with writhing humans. In many corners, they spotted exhausted, slack-jawed souls slumped against the rose-colored walls, their eyes as empty as the Abyss, their flesh strangely puckered and withered. The floors were littered with bodies, some sleeping, some half-faded into incorporeality. The demons, however, did not seem tired at all. All of them were alert, lusty and active, as if feeding off the exertions of the groaning souls around them.

For what seemed like hours, they roamed the decadent halls in search of the throne room. After awhile, Octurus took to muttering to himself, his eyes darting this way and that as his hands involuntarily clenched and unclenched at his sides. Eventually, they stumbled into a vast chamber, packed with young, strong humans, elves and other mortals, all of them shining examples of beauty and virility. The room was near body-temperature, and the air was filled with moans and cries, some delighted, others surely the sounds of despair. At least three succubi and a dozen vrocks were there, feeding on the flesh and souls around them rather than taking part in the more pervasive activities. At the far end of the hall was Malcanthet herself. She radiated a deadly beauty that made it difficult to look directly at her. She lounged upon a grasping, undulant divan made of tangled human arms that caressed and supported her with loving and gentle awe.

Finding no way to easily pushed through the throng of naked flesh, the Legionnaires took to the air, flying above the orgy to land before Malcanthet’s throne. As they did so, new arms grew from the ground around them, lifting each of them gently off the floor and cradling them in impromptu chairs made of dozens of hands. Both Octurus and Tower Cleaver rose to their feet immediately, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

“My, my, my,” the succubus queen said, at length. “What fine-looking visitors! I do so enjoy volunteers. Welcome to the Palace of Flesh and Delight. How long are you staying?”
Around the six companions, the room had gone silent and still. Malcanthet held their gazes, stroking her chin with the tip of one long, black fingernail.
“My Lady,” Daelric said, approaching and bowing low, well aware that Malcanthet could easily see through his illusion of invisibility, “we have come to seek your aid for the coming war that we shall wage against Demogorgon, the Prince of Demons.”
“He is my lover!” Malcanthet said, indignantly. “How can you dare suggest I would side against him?”
She paused for a moment, and then began to laugh. When she did, every demon and every mortal in the room immediately laughed as well. When she finally stopped, they did as well.
“Umm…yes…well,” Daelric continued, clearing his throat, “as I was saying, we have already enlisted the aid of others, and it is our hope that…”
“I can see now why you remain invisible,” Malcanthet interrupted, raking her eyes over the young priest’s body. “I didn’t think it was that cold in her.” She smiled mockingly. Daelric’s face flushed crimson.
“My Lady,” Sepoto interjected, “what my companion is trying to say is that we need your help in the battle to come. If we…”
“A goliath,” Malcanthet interjected again, “and in more than name only!” This time her smile was pure lust as her eyes drank in Sepoto’s physique. “They don’t call you ‘powerful build’ for nothing, do they?”
This time it was Sepoto’s turn to blush, but he continued with his plea, recounting their tale to date. When he finally finished, Malcanthet began to laugh again, once more joined by every occupant in the hall. At last she stopped once more, and instantly, all other laughter in the room ended, except for one voice that quickly turned into a scream that was cut off abruptly.
“Oh, you are treacherous,” she purred, “and I like that. You remind me of Graz’zt, in a piddling, mortal way. I might help you, but first I need one of you to look into my eyes. And if you can survive that, I might help you. Or I might not. You’re really in no position to bargain. You!” she pointed at Tower Cleaver, and the minotaur’s face blanched. “Step up and kneel! You know you’ll never have a chance for bliss like this again. Look into my eyes and tell me you’d like a kiss to seal this bargain.”
Tower Cleaver shook his head violently, backing several steps away. Mandi sighed in exasperation, while Malcanthet rolled her eyes.
“Is there not one among you man enough to accept my offer?”
Sepoto stepped forward, and knelt at the demon queen’s feet. Stoically, he raised his eyes, and locked gazes with the succubus. Instantly, he felt as if he were drowning in her eyes, and as she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, he was totally immersed, swept away in raw passion. Finally, a sting of pain brought him back to himself as Malcanthet nipped playfully at his neck, drawing the slightest trickle of blood, and leaving behind a mark in the shape of a pair of feminine lips pierced by a spike. Her own lips then traveled to his ear, where they began to whisper,
“You’ve served me well so far, returning that silly idol to that old bat and then releasing that wretch, Shami-Amourae. Just like I planned. So don’t balk now, my precious little puppet! Demogorgon has two heads, and has always sought to unify them. His two greatest generals, Bagromar and Tetradarian, are clones, each representing half his nature. The more bestial of the two has just returned from a great success in the Blood War. He rests with his army in a mountain camp on Pazunia, very near to my fortress of Vanelon there. His success has gone to his head, filled him with ideas that he’s the better of the two. Someone as delightful as you should have no problem convincing General Bagromar to betray his cloned brother, hmmmm?”
She then licked Sepoto’s ear and smiled a full-fangs smile, and then pushed him away before turning to the rest of the Legionnaires.
“There,” she said, “that wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, go fetch my old friend Crimson from her home and I’ll give you the Iron Flask of Tuerney the Merciless to aid in your efforts. Or, if you’d prefer, I can tell Demogorgon everything about what you’re up to?”
She tapped her fingers in irritation on the scales of a marilith that sidled up to her. All around the audience chamber, demons were pouring in.
“I’m waiting,” she said, “and I hate waiting…”
 


SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1) The Legion goes in search of Crimson, and encounters some Lathanderite missionaries along the way.

2) Crimson, when found, becomes Mandi's "puppet."

3) Malcanthet "rewards" both Crimson and the Legionnaires

4) Next Stop: the Blood Shallows, where an aspect of Obox-Ob is rumored to lair

5) Sepoto and his new mistress have a difference of opinion. It's not nice to make Malcanthet angry...you wouldn't like her when she's angry.

6) Obox-ob is freed...mayhem ensues.

7) Tower Cleaver gets stoned.

8) An exalted, Lawful Good, Tyr-worshipping Aspect of Demogorgon???? You've got to read it to believe it!!!

9) An ally in the coming battle is lost, and Sepoto takes steps to redeem his endangered soul.
 

JollyDoc said:
Standing in the center of the arena, surrounded by stands full of howling demons and undead, Tower Cleaver practically glowed with the power of the defensive and offensive wards draped layer upon layer on him by Mandi and Daelric. Circling around his head where twenty-two silvery globes

The total amount of spells on cleaver at this fight? 23! joke at the table was if TC had sex that night he would have conceived a new god of magic
 



JollyDoc,
great update, this last one! Sepoto really fraternitize a lot with those demon lords and ladies, doesn't he... :]


JollyDoc said:
8) An exalted, Lawful Good, Tyr-worshipping Aspect of Demogorgon???? You've got to read it to believe it!!!
That does sound a tad unorthodox. Mandi's handiwork, no? :]
 


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