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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2409769" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 425On Carceri, there was no cycle of night and day, so the sky outside was exactly the same ugly shade of red and brown as the companions rose from their rest and gathered in the lower chamber of their citadel for the “morning” meal. Dana had prepared a heroes’ feast for them, so at least the provisions were of exceptional quality, particularly by Carcerian standards. “We could have really used this, back in the early days,” Lok said, running a hand along the smooth black stone.  “Indeed,” Cal said.  “But instant fortresses are not cheap, nor are they easy to come by.  In fact, when he learned where we were planning on taking his, Jarthel almost demanded it back.  I had to turn over the drow’s spellbook, and both of Rhiavati’s books, to him as security before he’d agree.”“The Harpers owe us,” Dana said.  “We would have done at least as much for them, if it had been Jarthel, or Cylaria, who’d been dragged off to another plane as a captive.”“So what is the plan for today?” Arun asked.  “The cambion gave us enough specific information for us to teleport directly to Harrowfell,” Cal said.  “You trust that… creature?” Beorna asked. “Of course not.  But it’s the only good lead we have.  Based on the reactions we got from others at the Bastion when we asked about Skullrot, I think that we’re not likely to get better information.”“No one wants to mess with a Prince,” Arun said.  “Especially not one holding a god captive.”“First a cambion, then a marilith,” Beorna said, her expression sour.  “These creatures are for spitting upon holy blades, not for coy words and deals.  They are corrupt, and negotiating with them only invites their corruption to spread.”“I like it little better than you… less, likely, since I had to treat with that grotesque monstrosity directly,” Dana said.  “But it is but a means to the end we seek.”“A philosophy of chaos,” Beorna scowled. “You knew what we were about here when you agreed to join us, templar,” Dana said, not giving one inch in the argument.  “Yesterday you agreed to play your role, and now you question the morality of it?”Beorna glanced over at Arun.  “You have been silent for some time, paladin of Moradin.  Does my understanding of the Soul Forger’s creed reflect an erroneous view of its dogma?  Do I stand alone with my concern?”Arun met her gaze squarely, although there was feeling in his eyes as he regarded her.  “Long have I had to follow my own path, alone.  Thus I have had to learn to interpret the doctrines of my faith according to the commands of my heart, rather than the theological dicta of the high clerics.  I am not disciple of moral relativism, nor do I believe in the whim of the moment as justification for actions that violate my beliefs.  But I do not feel shame in what I have done.”“Perhaps you would feel more comfortable wading through the blood of a neverending sea of fiends,” Dannel said.  “For you could swing your sword until your strength gave out, Beorna, and not make a dent in the evil of this place.  It is only prudence to use stealth and cunning, rather than brute strength, in these circumstances.”Beorna’s expression darkened.  “I am not a fool, elf…”“Friends,” Cal said.  “We cannot afford to drive a wedge between us, not here, not now, even if that wedge is merely one of words and ideology.  I agree that allowing ourselves to compromise our beliefs is a dangerous path, and one best avoided.  Believe me, templar… I understand whereof I speak; this is not the first time that we have sojourned to the Lower Planes.  But I will respond to you now as I did to my companions then.  It is not right to fight evil with evil.  We cannot descend to become what we fight, in the name of justice.  But we face a foe of unspeakable power and utter depravity.  Adimarchus has already nearly cast our home into an apocalypse of planar war.  If he escapes his prison, lost in his madness, I fear for what dark days may follow.”The conversation ended on that note, and the companions completed the meal and busied themselves with their preparations. Weapons and spell components were checked and double-checked, and then the company followed Cal out of the citadel onto the surrounding plain.  A word of command from the gnome archmage caused the instant fortress to collapse upon itself in a matter of seconds, leaving a small black cube that he placed into an inner pocket of his tunic. “Everyone ready?” he asked.  They formed into their two groups, around him and Dana.  They cast their usual suite of protective spells, joined hands, and then the spellcasters teleported them to the next destination in their journey. Harrowfell was an ugly tower, perhaps ten paces across, squatting atop a stone bluff overlooking a blank, desolate landscape that extended to the horizon in every direction. The travelers from Faerûn materialized near the entrance, perhaps thirty paces from the dark archway that served as an entry to the tower.  The place had an odd texture to it, which resolved into a quick realization from the companions that filled even their veteran composures with disgust. “Armor, weapons, and bones,” Dannel said. “An odd material for construction,” Cal said. “I can feel the Taint from here,” Arun said.  “Fiends nearby.”“Well, let us not keep them waiting then,” Cal replied, starting toward the dark archway. There was no stirring from the black maw of the tower, or any other sign that their arrival had been noted, as they crossed the bluff to the entrance.  Up close the tower seemed even more menacing, and they hesitated for a moment there. “Perhaps our… bodyguards… should wait here,” Cal suggested quietly. “We stick together,” Beorna said, although her expression indicated what she thought of this venture. They had not bothered with a veil this time; the marilith would be able to see through such magic with ease.  They had, however, agreed to conceal any overt sighs of their faith or allegiances, another gesture that had not improved Beorna’s mood but which was so patently necessary here that even she could not dissent.  With Cal in the lead, they entered the tower.The place was empty save for a nine foot, v-shaped spike of black stone that appeared to have been jammed into the ground here like a dagger.  The split stone oddly reflected the weak light that filtered in from outside, and when the eye turned away from it there seemed to be hints of movement briefly visible in its sheen.  “Fiends, on the walls,” Dannel warned, just loud enough for them all to hear.  They looked up and saw them, babau and hezrou demons hanging from the interior walls of the tower, hissing warnings at the intruders upon seeing that they’d been detected.  One babau shifted and a fat drop of red ichor dropped from it to land sizzling on the ground by their feet.Why come you to Harrowfell? a voice echoed in their minds.  They turned as a sibilant hiss of movement drew their attention to the sundered stone, around which a terrible monstrosity became visible.  The marilith seemed to grow out of nothingness; the stone clearly wasn’t large enough to conceal her, yet there she was, coming around it into view.  Her upper body was that of a woman, but her six arms and fiendish visage instantly ended any parallels that one might draw to a mortal creature.  Each hand held a black-bladed sword with a jagged cutting edge, and behind her trailed the rest of her body, a mottled gray and black serpent’s tail that trailed for nearly twenty feet behind her.  Her considerable presence filled the place, a power that whispered obedience and submission to her will.  She was nearly nine feet tall, and they had to crane their necks to look into her black eyes. “You do not belong here,” she said, her swords clinking slightly together as she moved, forming a crossing pattern of steel in front of her body.  At her words, the demons above began to laugh, an eerie cackle that filled the confines of the tower. “Uh oh,” Mole said.</blockquote>

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