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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2813681" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 579Two tight phalanxes of vaporous forms streaked across the sky of Occipitus, making directly for the plane’s dominant feature, the massive iron mountain created by its new ruler, the Demon Prince Graz’zt.Cal was only dimly aware of the ground passing by far below them.  Thus far they’d made excellent time, leaving the mountains behind and accelerating rapidly to a speed that should get them to destination in under an hour.  They’d encountered a few flying demons, a few scattered flocks of vrocks, an occasional lone quasit flittering on some errand, and once a pair of succubi carrying an iron chest between them.  None of the demons had spotted them, though in each case they’d shifted their course subtly to avoid coming too close. The gnome often looked back at the mountains, but so far there had been no signs that their departure had been detected, and that a pursuit had been ordered.  To him it seemed inevitable that there would be one; the demons, or at least their tiefling leader, would quickly come to the realization that those who had left the devastation in the valley had not retreated back into the caverns under the Bastion.  But without the ability to teleport, their foes would have a difficult time catching up to the ten raiders before they arrived at their destination. Cal was worried about what they would find when they got there.  They passed over a number of large groups of demons, most still moving in the direction of the canyon culminating in the Bastion.  It looked as though Graz’zt had deployed the bulk of his army, however, and they saw no massive columns like the one that had assaulted the fortress, and breached its outer defenses.  The Voice’s words about the size of the force that the demon prince commanded continued to sound in his mind, and he wondered if they would arrive at the skull to find an impenetrable ring of defenders, including wary fliers equipped with true seeing.  Or for that matter, if Graz’zt even now was watching them, preparing for their arrival at his sanctum.There were defenders, that much was obvious even now, with miles left to go until they reached their destination.  This far, all he could make out were tiny specks hovering in the air above the fortress, and black shapes that spread out across the ground at its base like splotches of ink, tremoring slightly with movement.  Well, they would find out what was there soon enough. Cal’s musings were interrupted by a sudden unexpected to the side.  He turned in time to see a wispy form, one of the four traveling behind the Voice, break formation and start descending in a steep dive.  He couldn’t quite make out its identity, with the distorting effect of the wind walk, but it was too big to be Mole, and probably not Dannel; the elf would not have broken with them without getting the attention of all of them first. So it had to be Callendes or Avellos, the hound archon.  Cal darted ahead of his group to get the attention of the others, and then pointed down.  The other group had slowed as well, uncertain how to react.  Already, the lone figure was almost halfway to the ground below, almost invisible against the start backdrop.  They were on the edge of one of the fibrous forests that appeared on the landscape of Occipitus like wild tufts of hair, but other than that there were no obvious features to indicate why this section of the plane was special. Damn it, Cal thought.  He was tempted to ignore the break and press on, but before he could make a decision, the Voice spread its insubstantial wings and started down, the others following behind. Hoping that they weren’t making a big mistake, Cal followed them. * * * * * A dozen babaus cavorted the clearing, celebrating a climax of blood and suffering with an enthusiasm that only true demons could muster.  The fibrous stalks of the weird Occipitan “forest” surrounded them, some still crusted with dangling gobs of ruined demonic flesh.  Some of the slain demons had been strung up from some of the thicker fibers around the perimeter of the clearing, the garish decorations hanging several feet above the ground.  A thick stench of battle and ruin absolutely filled the air, like a fog that the demons danced through as they experienced what for their kind passed as joy.  Altogether the setting made the place a scene of horror, even if one did not consider the feature that dominated the clearing. But even the gory scene and its grisly participants paled before the suffering embodied in the figure bound spread-eagled to a cluster of fibers at the far end of the clearing.  The demons had lashed together over a dozen fibers to support the captive, but still they sagged heavily with its weight, until its feet dangled a mere pace above the ground.  Blood both old and new puddled beneath it, the crusted splatter occasionally augmented by another drop that fell ponderously free from the ruined form.  A babau would occasionally break from the circle and rush the dangling form, tearing new gashes in its already ruined legs and body with a sweep of its claws before rejoining the dancers, licking the bloody gore from its claws. The disfigured captive was no longer identifiable as the leonal Ediir; even one who had known the celestial would have been hard-pressed to identify it.  Most of the skin covering the leonal’s legs and arms dangled in long strips, flayed from the limb by babaus careful not to unduly sever the blood vessels beneath.  The celestial’s torso had likewise been painstakingly cut open, the flesh and muscles parted layer by layer until the organs beneath glistened wetly in the open air.  And the face—that was a sight best avoided, for there was little there now that reflected the strength and quiet dignity that had once been possessed by the noble warrior. Distracted by their pleasure, the first warning that the demons got of the threat was when a loud cry drew their attention around, and the hound archon Avellos leapt into the clearing.  The celestial was still covered by Cal’s veil, giving it the appearance of a muscled humanoid fiend, but its hostile intent was immediately evident.  The first babau still had a dumb look of surprise on its face when the celestial’s flaming greatsword crushed into it in a mighty power attack.  The demon’s head came apart like an overripe melon, and the fiend fell to the turf in a gory heap.  The babaus shrieked and immediately fell upon the archon from all sides, but even as they rushed Avellos death began to rain down upon them.  Arrows shot out from the fibrous forest, burying themselves to the feathers in the emaciated bodies of the demons.  An explosion of holy energy erupted in the clearing, the holy smite blinding the fiends with its intensity even as the pure deluge of power seared their corrupt flesh. Arun, Lok, and Beorna came charging into the clearing on the heels of the archon, but even as they started hacking at the disoriented babaus, Mole’s voice sounded from somewhere, shouting a warning. “Over on the right… incoming!” The defenders had just enough time to look in that direction before the thicket of fibers spread open, and another dozen babau surged into the clearing, accompanied by a pair of massive howlers, each easily fifteen feet in length.  The newcomers announced themselves with a ferocious roar that accompanied a violent charge, as they leapt across the clearing into the fray. Chapter 580Faced now with almost two dozen babau and a pair of oversized howlers, the companions found themselves engaged in yet another desperate battle.  The howlers relied on their sheer size and the momentum of their rush as they bowled into the melee, bearing down enemies and allies alike.  The first slammed hard into Beorna, knocking her prone and pinning her under its several thousand pounds of bulk.  The second tried to do the same with Lok, but the genasi brought up his shield and stepped aside, taking a hard but glancing hit that separated him from the babau he’d been fighting.  He set his feet to counterattack, but before he could strike a pair of babau leapt upon him from behind.  Twisting, he shook free the first, but bad luck confounded him and his boot caught in a corpses’s ribcage as he turned.  The second babau took advantage at once by dragging the genasi down to the ground.  Arun rushed forward to Beorna’s aid, catching the howler’s attention with a powerful swing of his hammer that caught the creature solidly on the side of the head.  The howler responded by lashing out at the paladin with a violent thrashing surge, its movements grinding Beorna into the ground beneath it.  The creature’s bite failed to connect, but one of the sharp spines that jutted from its neck impaled the dwarf’s weapon arm.  Arun grimaced, but merely tightened his grip on his holy avenger, his jaw tightening in a promise of divine retribution.  A pair of babaus recovering from the smite tore at him from his flanks, but he ignored them for now, focused on the larger foe. Avellos continued to sweep his huge sword about with raging abandon.  The babau were resistant to the flames that engulfed the magical blade, but that did not spare them from the edge of the divine steel.  But despite the aid from the others, the hound archon was still assailed by five of the foul, cackling demons, which came on him from all sides.  Their claws found vulnerabilities that they exploited through cunning sneak attacks, and within just a few seconds the celestial’s fur was matted with its own blood, draining from deep gashes in its arms and torso. The second wave of babaus came crashing into the melee on the heels of the howler rush; or at least some of them did, for a few found themselves distracted as they crossed the clearing.  One suddenly found its legs tangled up beneath it, and it pitched forward to land in an awkward heap upon the ground.  One of its fellows turned to see a small figure leap up at its face, darting past before it could react, its rapid passage leaving a reminder in the form of an explosion of pain in its left eye.  The demon let out  a violent scream and spun around to attack its tormentor, but saw only another of its fellows, likewise twisting around trying to find the streaking foe.  Then a loud whistle drew both demons around, to where a mere dretch stood grinning at them ten feet away. “Well, you guys coming, or what?” The demons, joined by the third as it picked itself up off the ground, snarled and rushed toward the veiled Mole. The last knot of babaus—four of the snarling demons—diverted their rush toward the far edge of the clearing, where the barrage of arrows continued to knife out at their fellows.  Hoping perhaps to ambush the archers, they instead found themselves confronted by a dwarf cleric and another archon.  Umbar, delayed slightly as he augmented himself with the divine power of Moradin, intercepted the leap of the foremost demon with his axiomatic hammer, crushing its chest and reversing its momentum to land hard on its back.  The Herald’s Voice moved forward to join him, its hovering sword materializing in the air before it, but Umbar forestalled it before it could join the melee. “Help the hound!” he urged.  “I’ll deal with these wretches!”The celestial nodded and lifted into the air, while the babaus, disappointed in losing a shot at one of their hated enemies, took out their frustrations on the dwarf.  Lok’s kept an iron grip on his axe as he pushed his fist into the spongy turf, slowly levering himself up.  The babaus grappling him were spurred into a frenzy as they tried to keep him down, but they may as well have been clawing at a stone wall for all the effect that their claws had on his heavily armored body.  Of more concern was the howler, which turned on him with a vengeance.  Before it could unleash a full attack, a black beam shot out from the surrounding forest and struck it, weakening it.  But that did not stop it from attacking; if anything its furious assault seemed to double its earlier effort.  Its jaws closed on Lok’s shield, tearing it from his grip and nearly taking his forearm with it, and a spine lodged in the shoulder joint of his left arm, poking through the layered mail and digging painfully into his flesh.  Lok ignored it all, and placed his feet with deliberation under him.  His head came up, slowly. This was his spot. Arun felt a pain stab into his left hip as one of the babaus raging on him finally managed to work its sharp nails under his armor.  The howler reared up, briefly revealing Beorna’s struggling form under its chest.  “Get this damned thing off me!” she shouted, slicing her dagger out of its scabbard before the thing came down on her again.  The howler opened its jaws and twisted its head around, apparently intending to simply gobble up the defiant paladin.  Arun was waiting for just such an opportunity.  The holy avenger warhammer swept up and down in a blur, striking the howler solidly on the side of its jaw.  Bone snapped under the impact; the howler started to rear back, but Arun wasn’t finished.  Stepping past the babaus as if they weren’t even there, he drove the head of the hammer into the left front knee of the monster, pulverizing that joint, and causing the howler to tip over onto its side.  The thing lifted its head and screamed, a sound that abruptly ended as the paladin brought the hammer up one last time, for a third consecutive power attack that crushed its throat.  Now crippled, gurgling as it tried to breath, the howler flopped over backward, sliding off of Beorna.  A babau immediately leapt onto her, but she grabbed it and slammed her mailed fist into its face. “I… am… not… in… the… mood!” she yelled, punching it with every word that tore through her lips. Arun, seeing that she had the matter in hand, turned to deal with his own enemies.  The babaus shared a look, and fled.  Avellos was now in a truly desperate situation.  He had slain another babau, but four still threatened him, exploiting his open position to launch nasty flanking attacks.  And his greatsword was smoking from more than the burning magic that infused it; the babau acid was having its corrosive effect. But even as the demons gleefully chortled in anticipation of another fallen foe, the situation abruptly shifted.  A long arrow caught one of the babaus in the back of the head, slaying the already-wounded demon.  And then the Voice appeared, landing in a flutter of white cloth and soft wings, its sword coming down in a strike that cut another of the demons near in twain.  The sword archon took up a protective position adjacent to the stricken hound, preventing either of them from being effectively flanked by the two remaining demons.  But faced with celestials, the demons did their best, and one actually managed to get its claws around Avellos’s throat before the hound broke free, and drove his sword through the creature.  Unfortunately the attack was too much for the battered blade, which snapped off just above the hilt. Lok, meanwhile, met the howler’s rush.  The creature slammed into him again, but the genasi had taken up a defensive stance, and the howler’s head was driven up as Lok took its weight upon him.  The image of the huge monster, thousands of pounds of abyssal horror, held up by a five-foot warrior, was almost comic.  But then, Lok heaved, and the howler’s feet were lifted up off the ground.  The creature flailed for a moment, confused by this unexpected turn.  But then, Lok started hacking at its belly. The melee was already starting to shift, sliding inexorably into a rout.  The demons, confronted by the furious power of their enemies, started to fall, first by the handful, then in a deluge.  Umbar, facing four babaus, slew two and had started on a third when his magical hammer, almost covered in glistening red slime, finally succumbed.  The cleric spat a dwarven curse and grabbed the injured demon’s head, blasting it with an inflict wounds spell that caused it to shudder in agony.  Snapping its neck for good measure, he turned to face his last foe.  He was too late, he saw, as the demon was on the turf.  It was hard to see the arrows in its chest; only a bit of the feathered ends was visible. Those facing the dwarves were the first to break.  Even as Lok dropped the dying howler to the ground, the two babaus attacking him decided that maybe they’d picked the wrong opponent.  They fled, one unfortunately taking a path that led it too close to Arun.  The demon went down, its skull crushed like an eggshell beneath an armored boot.  The other one got away, disappearing into the fibrous forest, running with an abandon that probably didn’t flag until it reached the far side of the plane. Mole’s foes were probably the last to realize that the battle was ending.  The gnome had led the three of them on a merry chase around the entire far half of the clearing, over and under and around the fibrous stalks, making their swipes look clumsy as they grabbed only air.  The gnome barely bothered to attack, managing a few minor swipes with her dagger that poked and prodded the demons into a greater fury.  Each time the demons rushed her, they seemed to get just almost close enough to grab her, before she twisted or leapt or tumbled out of reach.  “Ah, it’s been fun, but I think I’ll sit out the next dance,” she said to them, finally, coming to a stop in the middle of the clearing.Behind her, Arun, Beorna, and Lok stood, covered in demonic ichor, their weapons bare and bloody in their hands. The demons, enraged beyond the dictates of common sense, leapt to the attack.  And then, it was over. As silence returned to the clearing, and the companions checked themselves and their gear for damage, Avellos approached the devastated form of his commander.  The hound, its wounds forgotten, lowered its gaze, its hand opening to drop the broken sword to the ground.  There was no chance of any other fate, but the Voice verified it anyway, briefly brushing the leonal’s hand with a gentle touch.  The sword archon sighed, and lowered its head. The great warrior Ediir was dead. Chapter 581A great sadness hung over the scene of carnage in the clearing within the fibrous forest.  But there was also a fair degree of anger. “What was that all about, celestial?” Umbar said, coming forward.  Beorna was only a step behind him, grimacing as she favored limbs crushed by the weight of the howler.  “We don’t have time to delay,” Cal said, coming forward into the clearing, sliding one of his wands into the case at his belt.  “More demons will be on us at any moment; don’t think that the ones that got away won’t be back with friends.”“I think we need to resolve this, and now,” Beorna said, tucking her thumbs into her belt.  “If we cannot rely upon a member of the team, we need to know it, before he gets us all killed in a crisis situation.”“Ediir was one of the great ones,” the Voice explained.  “Avellos was his second, and was ordered to leave him when one of the gates opened…”“We do not question your loyalty, hound archon,” Umbar interrupted.  “But greater things are at stake in this than one man.  If I were to fall, I would expect you to leave me, without hesitation, for the greater good.  I would have thought that an archon, an embodiment of Law… duty… order… would understand this above all.”A few of the companions shared looks as the dwarf spoke.  The archon, however, merely nodded in acquiescence.  “Your words speak truth.  I have twice failed in my duty,” it said, its eyes falling to the shattered weapon at its feet. Arun looked at Beorna, and there was a hint of reluctance in the way she met his gaze.  “You would leave me behind, Beorna?” he said, quietly. “Damned straight, paladin,” she said.  “And I would expect nothing less from you.  I do not often agree with mister high holiness over there, but in this he is one hundred percent correct.  Duty trumps all.”“Oh, for the love of…” Dannel said, coming forward, exasperated.  “What is it with you lawfuls?  I swear, I’ve seen orc drinking contests that weren’t as competitive as this whole ‘who’s the most noble’ crap!  So Avellos spent some time with a leonal, and some independent thinking rubbed off on him.  Good!  Cripes, loyalty to your friends isn’t a weakness, guys!”“This is not some fairy elf game we are playing at, archer,” Umbar began, “There is too much at stake…”Lok interrupted him by stepping forward, and smacking the ground before him with the top of his axe.  “Nobody gets left behind.  Period.  Some of us may not survive this quest, but we abandon no one while they yet breathe.”For a moment, there was only silence, then the sword archon spoke.  “Well said, voice of the Mountain.”“Yeah, sheesh, what’s with you guys?” Mole said, but the others were already moving on, gathering their weapons, casting healing spells to treat the wounds suffered in the brief but intense battle.  Umbar turned around and walked away, grumbling.  Avellos had turned back to the slain leonal, and laid a hand gently upon its battered body.  “Go forward in peace, mighty warrior.”The Voice gestured for the others to fall back, and then called down a flame strike that engulfed the leonal.  The holy flame embraced the slain celestial, and although it burned for only a few seconds, the twisting white pillar left behind nothing but ashes and a few stunted stalks when it dissipated.  “Let’s get moving,” Cal prodded. Beorna and Umbar quickly started healing the warriors damaged in the fray, while the Voice attended to the dire wounds covering Avellos.  The others cleaned their weapons as best they could, careful of the damaging secretions that had come off of the babaus.  As they were getting ready, Dannel came up to Umbar.  “I see you lost your weapon,” he said to the cleric. “I do not need an elvish blade,” he said, with a nod to the longsword at Dannel’s belt.  “I had something else in mind,” he said, whispering a word of command to his magical quiver.  The device produced his quarterstaff, which he offered to the cleric.  “It’s name is Alakast, he said.  “It… well, let’s just say that it doesn’t like fiends much.”The dwarf nodded, recognizing the potent runes etched into the length of the weapon.  “I will see that it is put to good use.”  Resting the weapon against his shoulder, he went over to confer with Arun.  “A good choice,” Cal said. Dannel nodded.  “I haven’t had much need for it of late.  Although I am getting a little worried about arrows.”“I thought you brought spare bundles in Mole’s bag of holding?”“Yeah, ten bundles, two hundred shafts.  Shot those, and the extra ones in my pack,” the elf said.  “And I’ve already borrowed extras from Lok and Arun.  I do go through them pretty quickly, and we’ve been in at least six major engagements since we arrived here.  I also gave two bundles to Callendes, before we left; he ran out before the end of the battle at the Bastion.  I’m down to the ones left in my magical quiver; I’ve got a good fifty or so left, but once those are gone, my combat effectiveness is going to drop significantly.”“I think Beorna has a few left,” Mole said suddenly from behind him, causing the elf to jump in surprise.  “I’ll go ask her.”  Smiling innocently, the gnome turned and walked over to the cleric.  Dannel grimaced.  “I think she’s gotten bored with just needling the dwarves,” he said.  “Bad luck for me, I think.”“I think maybe we’re due for some good luck,” Cal said earnestly.  Dannel nodded, and turned as the others approached, still looking garish in their gore-encrusted armor.  “Everyone ready?” Cal asked. “Let’s go,” Arun said, already starting to become insubstantial as he drew upon the power of the wind walk once again.  The companions became insubstantial, and quickly left another gory battlefield behind, speeding off toward the iron mountain in the distance, where ugly red clouds continued to roil in an uncontrolled storm of Chaos.</blockquote>

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