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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2813658" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 573Benzan hurled himself aside as the babau leapt at him, its long claws extended.  He felt a rush of pain a moment before he hit the ground, his momentum carrying him forward into a roll that brought him up a few feet away, trailing blood from a trio of shallow gashes in his left side.  The babau seemed to be in no hurry, taking enjoyment in the dire situation that the tiefling faced.  Benzan held his sword up between them, but the demon only cackled, feinting with a claw, snickering as its foe staggered back. “All right then, let’s dance, you bastard,” Benzan said, leaping to the attack. The demon lunged, but Benzan dodged under its claw, sweeping past it, slamming his sword up into its side as he slipped past.  The blade hit with a solid thunk, but instead of cutting the babau’s rubbery flesh, the ancient abused metal hissed at it hit the acidic slime coating the demon.  Even as Benzan tried to reverse his grip and bring the weapon back down for a backstab, the weapon snapped off just above the hilt.  He fell back, but too slow to fully avoid a raking sweep of its claws as it twisted rapidly around.  One claw caught on his forehead just above his right eye, tearing a vicious gash that left blood pouring down one side of his face, partially blinding him.  Benzan shifted to focus his good eye on the demon, and tossed down the broken and useless sword, drawing out the hooked knife that was his only remaining weapon.  Except for his wits, perhaps.The demon came at him, slowly, its casual pace driven less by caution of his defenses than a desire to drink in his foe’s despair.  Benzan gave ground, and led his enemy around the pillar in the center of the clearing, avoiding getting close enough to risk getting cut on the jagged edges of the branches that jutted out from the central spire. The demon danced with him, teasing him with feinting sweeps of its claws.  It too avoided getting too close to the spire, wary of exposing itself to a bull rush that could potentially impale it upon the spines. The two combatants did a full circuit around the spire before the babau seemed to grow weary of its sport.  As Benzan dodged another feint, the demon abandoned all pretense of caution, leaping at him in a rapid rush.  Benzan leapt to the side, but the demon pressed him, driving him away from the pillar, out into the clearing.  It had not chosen the timing of its rush idly; the area it pushed Benzan toward was marked by a surrounding ring of iron bushes and bent trees that erupted with a spiky maze of low-hanging branches, with no trail openings visible for at least a quarter-circuit around the edge of the clearing.  The tiefling realized that he was trapped, and he held his ground, holding his weapon in both hands, ready for a last desperate defense. The babau fell into a crouch, and leapt, arms outstretched to counter any attempt by its prey to slip past it again. But Benzan did not try to evade.  Rather, he too leapt forward, if only slightly, and as he came down he slid his feet out from under him, coming down onto his back with a jarring impact.  The babau drew its claws in to seize the fallen tiefling, its jaws opening wide to deliver a deadly bite with its landing.  The demon came down right on top of him, and for a moment it looked as though Benzan’s maneuver had been suicide, leaving him open to the full fury of his foe. But as the babau reached the apex of its leap and descended upon him, Benzan kicked up with both feet, catching the demon on its chest with both heels.  The babau’s claws tore into his arms, but before it could get a good grip on him, he used its own momentum and kicked upward, flipping the demon up over his head.  A terrible scream filled the clearing, and he struggled to his feet to see the babau impaled on one of the bushes, hanging upside down with its head a few scant inches above the ground.  The demon’s arms and legs thrashed as it tried to break free, but its violent moves only dug the sharp spines deeper into its body.  Two long branches had pierced it entirely, jutting from its left side and right forearm, covered in black ichor, hissing as the babau’s caustic gel seared the exposed metal.  Benzan didn’t linger to taunt the creature or attempt to finish it off; he doubted that the bush would hold it long, and he likewise questioned his ability to harm it with the pathetic weapon he still had.  Even as the babau continued to struggle to free itself, he was off and running, choosing the nearest trail opening that was opposite the one through which he’d entered the clearing.  He had no idea where he was going, and knew that his reprieve was still probably only temporary, but there was no other choice, short of surrendering himself to his enemies. And that he could not do. The demon’s cries of anger and pain faded behind him as he ran onward through the metal forest.  Several times he heard echoing cries from the surrounding maze, and once something big passed above, the flapping of wings audible though the tangled thicket of branches that blocked out the sky above him.  Fortunately whatever it was didn’t appear to have detected him, and he only saw a dark shadow pass over before it was gone.  The battle with the babau had lent him a burst of adrenaline, but it had also added new wounds to his tally.  He tried to clear the blood from his face with another piece of cloth torn from his garment, but ultimately had to give it up.  His right eye was gummed up with blood, and the best he could do was wind a strip of fabric around his head, covering the new wound with a temporary bandage.  His side began to throb too, both the older wound and the new scratches torn by the babau. He knew that he was reaching the end of his strength, but he tightened his grip on the knife, and kept going.  Finally, he saw another open space ahead, but as he reached it, stepping out of the dense forest to see the open sky again, his heart sank. This new clearing culminated a mere twenty feet away in a jagged cliff, a solid gray wall that rose up out of the forest to block his way.  The cliff was only about thirty feet high, and would have been a trivial obstacle back on Faerûn, were he traveling with his friends and his usual gear.  But here, it may as well have been a mile tall.  Even with only one eye he could see the jagged edges that were no doubt razor-sharp, waiting for the foolish climber to attempt a summit.  A noise brought him around; creatures, approaching swiftly through the forest.  He looked for another trail, a path along the cliff to either direction, but the spiny brush grew right up to the base of the barrier, forming a dense and impenetrable thicket.  He might have been able to make it past, had he been wearing full plate and helm, but even then it would have been a dicey attempt.  He fell back toward the cliff as the noise of pursuit grew stronger. Once they saw that they had him, the demons slowed, and they came almost leisurely into the clearing.  There were three of them; a thick-bodied bar-lgura, some sort of fiendish hound that regarded him with intelligence in its eyes, and finally another succubus, clad in a cuirass of red iron that flowed suggestively around her lithe figure.  She carried a whip, which sparkled with occasional surges of evil red energy. “You led us on quite a merry chase, little precious,” the succubus said.  “I always did think that Yeela took it easy on you; I always said that you could withstand more arduous treatment and still… persist.  Now we’ll get to see if I was right.”She flicked her wrist and the whip uncoiled, its barbed head dropping to the ground as she gestured subtly, and the bar-lgura and the hound-demon came forward around her, malice shining in their eyes. Chapter 574The mood in the small room was thick with a tangible sense of dread, as cold as the bare stone of the walls and the rough slab table that dominated most of the space.  The companions sat wearily in their seats, sagging under the weight of defeat and exhaustion.  At least they were clean, for the most part, although the smell of demons and blood still clung to them persistently like a second skin. All of them were there, but there wasn’t any idle conversation.  It was as if none of them wanted to add reality to the dire circumstances they faced by talking about it.  Even Mole looked subdued, as she sat playing with something in her lap that she’d fished out of her bag of holding. When Saureya entered the room, however, the Herald’s Voice trailing behind him like a shadow, the mood quickly shifted.  Perhaps the deva was just a convenient focus for the anger and frustration in the room, or maybe it was the cold look with which he regarded all of them, his eyes a void that somehow fueled the hot passions felt by the others. Beorna slapped her palm down on the table, as she half rose out of her chair.  “Did you have some other obligation that kept you while your forces were being slaughtered?  Your presence on the wall would have been… useful.  Not that you ever expected us to hold the line.”The dwarf’s attack did not alter the deva’s calm façade.  “A general does not lead from the front line,” he said. Umbar took up the attack.  “General?  Is that what you are calling yourself now, Fallen?  Some commander, to let himself be shoved back into a corner, to await slaughter…”“Friends,” Arun said, silencing both of his companions with a raised hand.  “This serves no purpose.  We knew the danger, when we agreed to come here.”  Umbar nodded, deferring to the Chosen, and while the templar’s expression demonstrated clearly her feelings on the issue, she too fell back into her chair with a loud clank of her armor.  Arun turned back to Saureya.  “What news?”“The demons have realized that a frontal assault upon the main doors is fruitless.  They are tunneling through the rock.  It’s only a matter of hours, now.”“Is there another way out?” Dannel asked. “No.  Beyond the few tunnels that burrow beneath the Bastion, there is only an expanse of dense rock, and then, the void.  The boundaries of this place are absolute to one not able to shift between planes.  This bolt-hole in which we reside, the Deepest Hold, is the final place on Occipitus not overrun by Graz’zt’s legions.  And soon it too, will fall before the inevitable surge of the Abyss.”“So what would you have us do, deva?  Huddle here and await our doom?” Beorna spat. “Sometimes, one’s fate cannot be avoided,” the deva said, but as he spoke he looked at Mole, who’s eyes rose to meet his.  Something sparkled in those celestial eyes, but his expression did not change.  Nor did the dwarves appreciate the sentiment.  “I’ll not wait idly for the headsman’s axe to fall,” Beorna said, while Umbar, at the same instant, said, “Let them in, then, and I’ll send a thousand demons back to the pit before I go.”“You cannot break the dimensional lock?” Dannel asked Cal.  The gnome shook his head.  “Even if I had a disjunction, the odds would be long.  Graz’zt has sealed the effect to the plane, and only a greater power would have a chance at sundering it, even in a localized area, even temporarily.”“What of the gods?” Lok asked. “They will not interfere,” Saureya said with a certainty that could not be breached.  “The struggle for the fate of Occipitus will be decided here.”“Why did we come here again?” Dannel asked nobody in particular. At that point a general argument broke out, with more recriminations hurled at Saureya, and words thrown back and forth across the table.  The deva’s calm replies only seemed to fuel the anger of Beorna and Umbar, and even Arun appeared to grow impatient.  Dannel made a comment that Umbar took offense at, and soon there was a four-way quarrel raging around the table.  Lok was silent, his head bowed, his eyes shut.  And Cal did not engage in the discussion, but rather followed Saureya’s gaze, which kept returning to Mole.  The gnome’s eyes fell back to what she held in her lap, and for a moment she just looked sad and forgotten, a child in a gathering of elders.  But only for a moment.  She put away her toy, and then sprang up onto the table with a suddenness that momentarily broke off the row, drawing attention to her. “Seems like there’s only one course of action left to us,” she said. “Save your breath, gnome,” Umbar said.  “I know what you would say, but even if we could sneak out of here, there’s no place left to hide.  And I will not slink away from that rabble outside, in any case,” he said, hefting his damaged hammer.” The gnome put her hands on her hips, looking down at the dwarf cleric with a perturbed look.  But Cal said, “Go ahead, Mole.  Say what you were going to say.”“As I was about to, before I was so rudely interrupted.  It does seem pretty straightforward, if you ask me.  Graz’zt has locked the plane, so nobody can come or go.  The demons all follow Graz’zt, and they won’t stop until we’re all dead.”“So?” Beorna asked.  “This we know, Mole.”A sudden look of realization appeared on Dannel’s face.  “You don’t mean…”Mole cut him off, a smug look on her face.  “As I said, one course of action.  All we have to do is sneak out of here, past a few thousand demons, make our way across thirty or so miles of demon-infested terrain, and visit the skull one last time. And then, we get inside, find the big boss demon, and kill him. Seems pretty straightforward, actually.”She folded her arms across her chest in triumph, taking some pleasure in the stunned looks that regarded her from around the table. Chapter 575“This is crazy.  You know that, don’t you?” Dannel said, checking the dark opening in the rock for the twentieth time.  “The dwarves approved the plan,” Cal said, doing his own check of his magical paraphernalia, including the small bags sewn into his belt that held his spell components.  The gnome nodded at the three dwarves, leaning against the wall on the far side of the opening.  They held their weapons at the ready, and seemed to almost pulse with anticipation.  Beorna, her own weapon broken in the siege of the Bastion, now carried a bright silver bastard sword that seemed to drink in the faint light of the tunnel.  Saureya had given her Aludrial’s Shard almost casually, saying that he no longer had need of it.  The templar had accepted it with equal aplomb, the gift of the artifact apparently unable to overcome the suspicion that she still obviously bore for the fallen entity. “That only confirms my point,” the elf said.  “If there were another option…” Cal began. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dannel replied.  “While I may not be in your league intellectually—heck, I don’t even think I’m on the same plane as you, intellectually—I have enough smarts to know that your plan is probably the best chance we have.  Heck, one in a thousand is better than zero in a thousand, I guess.”“One in a thousand?  I had actually set the odds at about one in four thousand,” Cal said. The elf looked at the gnome with a wry look, as if trying to gauge whether Cal’s comment was serious.  But Cal turned away as they heard the faintest scrape of leather on stone from the adjacent opening. “Sheesh, I can hear you guys fifty paces away,” Mole said, as she became visible directly before them.  Behind her, they could see the slender form of Callendes, his wings folded tight against his back.  The half-celestial was very good at moving silently, but Dannel would have bet platinum to copper that the noise they’d heard had come from the avariel’s footsteps, and not Mole’s.  “You do know that this part of the plan requires stealth, right?”“In a few moments, it won’t matter,” Lok said.  “Did you find it?”“Yes, yes, Saureya was right,” the gnome admitted.  “They’re close, too; another ten minutes, and this all would have been moot.  Is everyone ready?”“Let’s do it, then?” Beorna said, hefting the Shard in both of her hands.     Everything had been discussed in advance, and there was no need for discussion as the casters quietly and efficiently summoned a few protective wards.  Cal had interviewed all of them before, and had offered suggestions on how to maximize their combined abilities.  They had worked well in concert in the past, and had fought several desperate battles together already, but each of them knew that the current plan would require flawless execution—accompanied by considerable luck—to even have the slim chances that Cal and Dannel had been discussing. “Dannel, signal the archons,” Cal said.  The elf nodded, falling back a short distance back down the winding, uneven shaft that they’d negotiated to get to this point.  “Take us in, Mole,” he said, motioning for the warriors to precede him.  They made no noise; the last enchantment summoned by Umbar had been a silence spell, which he focused on a small dirk that the cleric passed to Lok.  Cal saw that Callendes remained close to Mole in the vanguard.  Ever since the death of his brother, the avariel had taken on an almost frightening intensity.  Cal recognized that the half-celestial was walking a fine line between commitment and insanity, but the fact was that they needed him, needed every resource they could possibly draw upon for this mission.  Saureya had agreed to give them whatever they wanted, but he himself would not leave the Bastion.  The deva had only a scant handful of surviving celestials left with him, a token force that would barely slow the demons when they broke through into the last few chambers of the fortress interior.  If they failed, it would not matter; the fate of those remaining survivors was sealed. Once the warriors had proceeded far enough for the effects of the silence to pass, Cal followed them.  The dark opening gave way onto an uneven shaft that rapidly approached the vertical, but Mole had helpfully strung up a rope to assist their descent.  Cal could feel the tension in the line that suggested that his companions were making use of it; the others ahead were barely visible even to his keen eyes.  The spell would cover the noise of any of the warriors fumbling with the rock or slipping on the smooth stone, but if one of them lost their grip and fell outside of the range of the effect, then this effort would fail before it had begun.  No sense focusing on that, Cal thought; there were any of a thousand ways that things could go wrong, and they’d be better off focused on just dealing with events as they occurred.  If someone fell, they’d have to adjust; there was no going back. But nothing untoward happened, and the shaft suddenly leveled off and bent slightly to the right before culminating in a roughly spherical pocket of open space, a bubble within the mountain.  The only exits were tiny cracks and sinkholes too small for even Mole to attempt.  It was unlikely they went anywhere; Cal made that deduction by the simple fact that the enemy’s hezrou demons would have likely found any possible entry, no matter how small, by means of their ability to assume gaseous form.  None of the toad demons had appeared within the fortress, which suggested that Saureya’s assurance about the interior of the Bastion being completely sealed was likely accurate. But that was likely to change, and soon, as the gnome heard a faint scratching sound that seemed to pass through the very rock surrounding them.  The demons were digging, tunneling through the mountain itself to get to the last few survivors of the celestial inhabitants of Occipitus.  The others, enveloped in the silence radiating from Lok, wouldn’t hear it… but that thought was belied as Lok bent for a moment, running his hand along the stone.  He looked at Cal, and nodded.  He feels them coming, the gnome thought.  The companions exchanged a look.  There was no need to share words; all of them knew the plan, knew what they had to do.  They gave Lok some room—but the dwarves did not go far, their weapons held ready—as the genasi crossed to the far side of the cavern.  He placed his feet solidly on the uneven ground, and leaned against a slanted plane of rock.  He pressed his face against the stone, closing his eyes for a moment.  Then he turned back and looked at the others gathered behind him, and nodded. Everyone tensed. Lok shifted, and stepped into the stone, vanishing entirely from view.  The companions waited; it could be seconds or minutes now, depending on what Lok found.  They did not have to wait long.  Cal barely had time to count ten heartbeats before Lok unleashed another of the powers he commanded, the power of Dumathoin, into the rock.  The alien stone of Occipitus obeyed his command, and an opening appeared in the stone, as he shaped it to his will.  The area of effect was not great, but Lok had maximized the efficiency of the stone shape by merely weakening rather than removing the stone ahead of him.  As the growing portal revealed the genasi, he slammed forward with his whole body, crashing into the seemingly solid stone ahead of him, shattering it into a thousand pieces.Those fragments collapsed down into the tunnel being dug by the surprised demons, who fell back in disarray.  There were over a dozen of the creatures crammed into the narrow space, mostly cowering dretches equipped with leather bags full of stone debris that they were trying to clear from the tunnel.  At the forefront, obviously doing most of the work of digging, were a pair of muscled bar-lgura, their foreclaws fitted with vicious metal talons, and a warped hordeling, a misshapen thing with a squat, almost headless body armored in bony chitin.  Four thick arms sprouted from its body, culminating in huge black claws that apparently tore through rock as efficiently as softer flesh.  It clearly hadn’t been stinting in its efforts; those claws were bloody, and the thing wheezed terribly with every movement, only hatred—of itself, the demons, the celestials it was ordered to find—driving it onward.   The demons were caught off guard by the sudden development, but Lok didn’t hesistate; without waiting for the others, he lifted his axe and leapt forward, landing in the midst of the demons in the crowded tunnel.</blockquote>

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