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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2813600" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 549INTERLUDEGraz’zt, Prince of Demons, sagged and nearly fell as his feet touched upon the hard ground of his new sanctum.  Above, the iron roof of his citadel slid ponderously shut, closing out the troubled sky of Occipitus above.  The chamber had changed dramatically in a short time.  The pillar of flame was still there, its roiling surge a confused mixture of red and gold, reflecting the tangled war that was still being raged over the very identity of the plane.  But the rest of the chamber had been altered, with tall pillars of black metal ringing the perimeter of the place, buttressing the massive iron plates that now reinforced the domed ceiling above.  Spikes jutted from the walls at regular intervals, flanking crude iron carvings of varied and creative foulness.  It was a reflection of the Great Hall in the Argent Palace in Zelatar; imperfect, but still imposing. Graz’zt saw only the imperfections, and it sent new tendrils of anger through his veins.  His eyesight was diminished; the Heart of Axion was dull in his socket.  A high price had been demanded, and paid.  He was committed; he had submitted his final gambit, and now all would rise or fall upon its fate. A faint scuff of a boot upon the stone drew his attention.  Warily, he turned to see Athux standing before him. “Congratulations, father.”Graz’zt snarled, and summoned his power.  He was depleted, more so than even in the aftermath of the Disaster, but he was still what he was.  But Athux was prepared.  Black energy shimmered briefly around him, his Rod absorbing most of the potency of the attack.  The scion of the Abyss gestured, and black chains shot out from the perimeter of the room, lashing into the arms, legs, and body of the Prince.  A violent surge of energy exploded from Graz’zt, but the chains held, the spines interwoven with the links digging painfully into his flesh as they held him.  “You are a fool, if you think that even the Chains of Ur’don will hold me,” the Prince hissed.  “You will spend an eternity in suffering for this treachery.”  Athux did not respond to the goad.  His lips moved as he finished an incantation that he’d spent centuries acquiring and perfecting, in anticipation of this moment.  His Rod, a potent artifact in its own right, was consumed and turned to ash, as was his amulet, cloak, and boots.  Their power was sucked into the spell, as was a considerable portion of the young lord’s own energies.  It was his masterstroke, and as Graz’zt recognized the flows of energy that were beginning to coalesce around him, fear shone briefly in his one remaining eye.  But as the enhanced binding began to take effect, Graz’zt did not beg for forebearance, or offer bribes or threats.  Instead, he laughed.  This was the way of his kind, and he knew all too well the rules that governed the lives of demons.  He had failed to anticipate this betrayal, and now he might pay the price.  That did not mean he would give up easily.  Surges of energy erupted around the Prince, as he fought off the thickening web of power that surrounded him.  The black metal chains holding him began to melt, their substance falling to the ground in thick gobs, mixed with his blood.  But they weren’t really needed, not now.  Athux began to sweat, his face tightening as the strain of exerting the full power of his Will began to show.  He held nothing back, nor did his sire.  Finally, however, the Prince screamed, and crumpled.  Athux let out a strangled hiss that was somehow more exultant than a cry of triumph, as he directed the flows into the final stage of the ritual.  All that he had waited for… it was now his. But in that moment of victory, pain exploded in his back.  The one who would succeed Graz’zt fell forward.  He spun to see Malad standing behind him, the white-hot fury of a thunderlance glowing in his hand. “What treachery is this, brother!” the cambion snarled, hurling an explosive sonic evocation at Athux.  The blast rippled around Athux, who was warded against magic much greater than this.  The spell would have left strong demons writhing in pain, but the son of Graz’zt merely laughed.  The half-fiend sorcerer started forward, lifting his weapon to strike, but Athux marshaled his Will upon the other, and Malad staggered, his spell fading into nothing.  He resisted, but it took all of a second before he succumbed, collapsing to his knees.  That threat defused, Athux turned around, only to feel an explosion tear through his mind.  Nice… try…He screamed, trying unsuccessfully to hold onto the sundering fragments of his consciousness.  The last thing he heard was the blistering laughter of his sire, and the last thing he saw was a tiny sparkle of light through the haze of red agony that filled his senses.  Realization entered him, and followed him into oblivion.   (break)Chapter 550The adventurers did not linger long over the gory battlefield.  Once they had healed themselves, and wiped as much gore as they could from their armor, weapons, and skin, they unpacked their flying carpet from Lok’s bag of holding and laid it flat upon the ground, clambering aboard.  Umbar, who had never before seen an item of this sort, had to be reassured by Arun that it was more durable than it appeared, and thus settled they set out across the plain.  Cal took the carpet up to an altitude of about a hundred feet briefly, just long enough to verify their location vis-à-vis a few landmarks remembered from their last visit.  Much of the plane’s features bore a depressing similarity, but Cal was confident enough to chart a course toward the celestial cathedral.  They agreed that it was probably wiser to travel around the perimeter of Occipitus, rather than risk a more direct route that took them closer to the skull.  They still did not understand fully what had been wrought in that moment of surging power, but even from here they could see that the monument had been… changed. Cal quickly brought the carpet back down to just a few paces above the ground, and they started out at a fast walking pace across the landscape.  More than a few heads turned to regard the battlefield they left behind, each wondering if the next one would include their ravaged bodies as well. Mole had done an “informal” count—“Hard to keep an accurate track when you keep blasting them into dust, Uncle Cal!”—and had recorded fifty-eight babaus, fourteen bar-lguras, four hezrous, twenty-five vrocks, and the nalfeshnee Cal had disintegrated.  One hundred and seven demons.  It had been an impressive tally, especially given the potent abilities commanded by the various demons in the horde.  They had come close—damned close—to disaster, with only quick reactions saving Dannel, Beorna, and Umbar from being torn apart.  For his measure Cal offered a quick prayer of thanks to Tymora, knowing that his string of successful disintegrations was running up against the odds, and would not likely continue as more powerful demons threatened them. But they had not escaped unscathed.  Not only had they heavily depleted their spells, but their gear had taken a beating, particularly from the caustic secretions issued by the babaus.  Umbar’s hammer and Beorna’s bastard sword were heavily damaged, unusable until repaired, and Lok’s various weapons likewise had taken some harm. Arun had used the powers granted by the Soul Forger to restore his own hammer to full utility, and promised to repair the other damaged weapons as soon as he could, but he could only draw upon that power once per day.  Their armor all needed a few tendays in a well-equiped smithy, but the likelihood of that happening any time soon seemed quite remote. So they pressed on.  The carpet, heavily laden with the seven of them, traveled slowly, but it set a steady pace that they could not have kept up on foot.  Mole distributed food and water from her bag of holding, and they refreshed themselves as they traveled, keeping a wary lookout in every direction.  They continued for several hours, taking shifts watching while others rested as best they could.  The carpet’s ride was steady and stable, but worry about their situation made sleep almost impossible.  At least for most of them; once it became clear that the landscape only offered a constant vista as they progressed further, Mole curled up on a corner of the rug and instantly fell asleep. None of them expected that the respite would last long.  Thus when Dannel lifted a hand to shade his eyes, peering into the distance, none of them were surprised when he said, “Oh, crap.”As the dwarves reached for their weapons, Cal looked up from the small book bound in blue leather he’d been perusing in his lap.  “Could you be more specific?”“See for yourself,” Dannel said, stringing his bow and pointing with one end of it toward the sky in the distance, in the direction of the skull.  There they could just make out a cluster of specks flying just under the Occipitus ceiling. Heading straight for them.  “Demons?” Beorna asked, settling her helmet upon her head, holding the axe she’d borrowed from Arun in the other. There was a pause as they watched Dannel watching the approaching specks.  “Yeah,” he finally said.  “There’s another group,” Mole said, pointing ahead and slightly left of their current course.  They turned to see a second approaching flight, partially hidden against the backdrop of the jagged horizon of Occipitus’s ring of cliffs, but definitely coming closer as well. “Here we go again,” Dannel said.(break)Chapter 551“Let’s start buffing up,” Beorna said.“Hold on a bit,” Cal suggested.  “Distances are difficult to gauge here, but they’ll be a few minutes, at least.  If they could teleport, they’d already be here, they wouldn’t give us time to prepare.” The gnome gestured and spoke a command word, and the carpet slowed and started descending toward the ground.  They were only a few paces up to begin with, so it would not take them long to reach solid footing. “Wait,” Arun said.  “Perhaps we should meet them aloft.”“They are more adept than we in the air,” Cal said.  “And as you have seen, the flight power granted by my wand is easy to dispel.”“But the terrain here gives little advantage,” Umbar said.  “And a stationary defense opens us to those explosive blasts, from the vrock dances.”“Dannel, can you identify the types yet?” Arun asked. The elf had been keeping a close eye on both approaching groups.  “The ones coming from the spire look like vrocks,” he said.  “The others… I’m not certain yet.  They almost look like giant bugs, if I had to guess.”“Chasme demons, probably,” Cal explained. “Can either type dispel magic?” Umbar asked him. “The vrocks, no.  Chasmes… I do not know for certain, but I don’t believe so.  We’ve only faced their ilk once before, in Skullrot.  But their buzzing is a potent soporific.  It can be resisted, but with so many of them, it is likely that at least a few of us will be affected.”Mole shuddered, thinking back to an experience in the Carcerian prison. “Maybe we can find some cover back in the cliffs,” Beorna said, pointing to the wall they’d been following for the last few hours.  “A cleft, or a cave or something.”“I don’t think we have time,” Dannel said.  “They’re coming on fast… a few minutes, at most.”“We need to make a decision,” Cal said.  Umbar looked at Arun, who nodded.  “Then we use the carpet as a mobile platform,” the cleric said.  “The archmage and elf, with the templar as close-defense.  The genasi, Chosen, and myself, empowered with flight, fly a close formation against the enemies, staying within close range of the carpet… or vice versa.  If the vulture-demons begin a dance, we draw off.  If anyone is overcome by a stunning effect, then the others rally to his or her aid.”“Hey, what about me?” Mole asked.  “Sheesh, they always forget the gnomes,” she added, as an aside to her uncle.  “You know, I’ve taken out my share of bad guys,” she went on, to Umbar. “Invisible, you can linger next to one of the warriors, and deliver sneak attacks when least expected,” the cleric said.   “All right,” Cal said.  “It’s a workable plan.  We’ll stay close to the ground in any case, but if someone goes down, then everyone has to converge on that location, vrock dances notwithstanding.  And watch out for flanking attacks; you’ll be vulnerable from all sides.  Remember flying opens up the third dimension.”“Sheesh, you sure do worry a lot,” Mole said.  “Hey, how about a greater invisibility?”“Looks like they’re pretty eager to get to us,” Dannel said.  As they watched, the formation of vrocks shifted course to block the avenue of approach of the second flotilla of insect-demons.  Faint screeches reached their ears, followed by the bugs spreading out into two wedges that spread out to bypass the vrocks.  The vrocks had the advantage of position, but the chasmes were slightly faster.  Now that they were closer they could see that there were about two dozen demons in the first group, and about that or maybe slightly fewer in the second.  “What in the hells are they doing?” Beorna said. “They’re demons,” Cal said.  “Don’t assume they’re working together.  They’re probably taking a first-come, first-served approach.”“With us as the entrée,” Arun said, lifting his hammer. The spellcasters began making their preparations, as the demons approached swiftly, and began their dive.</blockquote>

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