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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2870780" data-attributes="member: 143">We think alike, but I should note that I house-rule that a holy word can be automatically counterspelled by a blasphemy, as long as the combined CL of the blasphemers exceeds that of the holy... ah, worder.  Same for word of chaos/dictum. But we'll get to that on Wednesday. Actually, they're one level up from that now, but I've been lax at updating the stats (I look at those huge blocks and quaver). But I have reposted the stats lost in the crash. * * * * * Chapter 599The Voice was the first to recover, rising and spreading its white wings as it lifted off and dove straight for the Prince.  Its sword rematerialized in front of it as the usually-calm face of the celestial took on a tinge of righteous rage against this embodiment of everything that it stood against, this most foul of demons.  The archon moved with great speed, the sword singing as it clove the air, striking the demon in the chest. Black energy roiled as the blade of holy energy intersected Graz’zt’s unholy aura.  The archon was rebuffed, the backlash of power overcoming it, but it quickly recovered, its sword coming up again to strike. But Graz’zt did not give it the chance.  The demon lifted his massive sword in both hands, and with an exultant snarl it clove the blade downward, through the celestial’s body.  The Voice did not even have a chance to scream as the great sword ended it, cutting a vertical slash through it from the center of its skull through the bottom of its torso.  The two halves of the archon fell apart, landing in a heap of white cloth and red blood and flesh that continued to sizzle as the acid from the Prince’s sword continued to eat away at it. “By the gods!” Dannel exclaimed, overwhelmed despite himself. “Take him!” Arun urged, taking up his hammer and rushing forward.  Beorna was already a step ahead of him, with Lok only a pace behind.  As they ran, they picked up speed, as Cal’s haste spell lightened their steps.  The Prince smiled, lifted his sword, and waited for them. Beorna had called upon the divine power of Helm while Graz’zt had addressed them earlier, and her booted feet seemed almost to fly across the floor as she charged.  With divine strength flowing through her, she rushed straight at the Prince and smote him.  But the blow never landed.  Whether through a moment of self-doubt that distracted her from her attack, a dark power inherent in the desultory glance from the Prince, or merely a slip on the slick trail of the Voice’s insides splattered across the floor, the templar fumbled her swing badly.  Aludrial’s Shard hissed through empty air, the dark trails of the unholy aura barely stirred by its passage.  Off-balance, Beorna stumbled and fell, the sword clattering loudly upon the ground.  “The champions of Good,” Graz’zt sneered. “Burn in the Pit, fiend!” Arun shouted, slamming his holy warhammer solidly into the Prince’s side.  The blow rang hard through the unholy aura and struck sparks as it clashed off of Synesyx.  Had Graz’zt been a mortal, the blow would have caved in his torso and knocked him flying across the room.  The Prince merely grunted as he turned to face the paladin. “My pretties might enjoy the embrace of such as you,” he said, smacking the dwarf in the chest with an open palm, and heaving.  Arun went flying, lifting into the air and traveling almost fifteen feet to slam hard into the iron figures of Graz’zt’s harem.  Several statues were heavily damaged by the impact of the armored paladin, and an arm broken off of one of the female images went skittering across the floor.  Arun was not seriously hurt, but as he started to pull himself free from the wreckage, he felt resistance on his arm.  Looking down, he saw that one of the arms of the statues had twisted around his own.  And with a creak of metal, he felt another solid grasp tighten on his right leg.  Looking up, he saw a sculpted face turn slowly to face his.  Lok had to divert his charge to get around Beorna and Arun, but he swung around to come at the demon from the flank, his thundering axe ready to strike.  His weapon lacked the holy powers of those wielded by the dwarves, but Beorna had aligned it as they neared this chamber, in the hopes that this would give him a chance at penetrating the Prince’s considerable damage resistance.  But while the genasi’s first swing was a strong one, the axe glanced harmlessly off the demon’s armored torso, inflicting little more than a light sting.  Arrows knifed across the room, but the first shots from Callendes and Dannel likewise seemed to have little or no effect upon the demon lord, bouncing off his body or vanishing within the unholy aura, leaving no mark upon him.    Umbar had hesitated during the initial rush, not from doubt, but rather to call upon the power of Moradin to fill him with righteous might.  As the dwarf grew to over ten feet in height, he started forward, lifting a greatly-enlarged Alakast to strike down the demon lord. Beorna, spitting a curse, grabbed the Shard as she rose to one knee, thrusting it up into the demon’s side.  A white flare of light erupted from the weapon as its head drove through the unholy aura, penetrating the armor and the thick hide beneath.  Graz’zt snarled and turned back to her; as her weapon tore free from the wound black ichor smoked upon the tip of the blade.  “You dare to strike me, bitch!” he snarled, whipping his own sword around.  The greatsword slammed into the side of her head with enough force to both dent her helmet and knock it flying from her head.  Staggered, blood oozing from a deep gash in her scalp, she nevertheless managed to bring up Aludrial’s Shard to meet a follow-up thrust that was aimed for her throat.  The holy bastard sword clanged against the abyssal steel, and while she could not fully parry Graz’zt’s thrust, she did manage to avert the killing thrust.  The Prince’s sword still drove through her shoulder, piercing both the front and rear plate of her armor.  Beorna screamed, and was driven to the ground as the demon kicked her in the chest, knocking her off the blade.  “A pity you are so unbelievably ugly,” the demon said, as Beorna, half-conscious, mewled in pain.  Ignoring Lok’s attacks, which continued to be ineffective, the demon turned to face the charging Umbar.  The cleric, looming over the Prince, brought Alakast down in a potent blow that erupted in a white flash as it glanced off the demon’s head.  But if Graz’zt was harmed by the attack, it wasn’t obvious to look at him.  “Have you slain many fiends with that staff, priest of Moradin?” “I’m about to slay one more, demon!” Umbar swung the staff in an all-out strike, but Graz’zt moved faster.  The Prince brought up his sword, and with a powerful swing of his own he sundered Alakast.  The staff released a sick crashing sound as the abyssal steel clove through it, driving through to smash into the base of Umbar’s breastplate.  Umbar was knocked roughly back, stunned, his breath driven from his lungs by the force of the blow. “I thought you dwarf priests were supposed to be tough.”A dark green beam lanced out across the chamber, slicing past the stunned cleric toward the fiend.  The ray looked like it would hit the Prince in the chest, but at the last instant it curved, vanishing into the Heart of Axion.  Cal’s disintegrate had no effect. “Spell absorption,” the gnome cursed.  “Magical attacks won’t hurt him!”“Well, we’d better find something that will!” Dannel said, firing another arrow that vanished harmlessly into the unholy aura.  Lok roared as he laid into the Prince from behind, unleashing a full attack at point blank range.  Even Graz’zt could not merely shrug off such an assault, and as the second blow exploded with a thundering critical hit, the demon actually was driven a half-step forward.  “The mighty warrior,” Graz’zt said, turning his gaze toward the genasi.  “What do you fear, Lok?  What stirs the terrors that creep within your soul?”Lok felt a surge of dire, unrelenting panic flow over him.  The last time that Graz’zt had held him and his companions, he’d tormented them with images of their personal fears and doubts.  Then, he’d experienced firsthand a drow attack on the home of his people, the urdunnir.  An attack that had succeeded because he’d abandoned his people to help others.  Now, what he saw in that moment of connection was far more dire; the West in flames, with demons pouring through gates to lay waste to the lands of Faerûn.  Over it all, Graz’zt watched, reveling in the destruction that was his personal payback to the realm that had produced his most dire enemies. And all because Lok had been too weak to stop him.  The genasi was a dedicated fighter, but he could not resist the power of the demon’s gaze.  His axe fell from nerveless fingers, and he staggered back, his arms lifted to shield himself from that relentless stare.  He fled, cowering in the alcove behind the Prince’s throne. Graz’zt laughed.  “Such bravery.”Umbar rushed up and grabbed hold of the demon, snapping his enlarged fists around Graz’zt’s arms.  The cleric’s strength had been augmented considerably by the righteous might of Moradin, but it seemed almost trivial for Graz’zt to shake himself free, and slam his sword up over his shoulder.  The point of the blade pierced Umbar’s breastplate, the impact driving him back again.  A fountain of blood erupted from the terrible wound as Graz’zt pulled his sword free, and the cleric fell hard to the ground with enough force to shake the hard iron surface. He did not stir. Graz’zt turned around.  “You are pathetic.  None of you fools are even a minor threat to such as me.  Enjoy your last few instants of free thought, for soon, even your dreams shall belong to me.”The demon lord laughed again, a terrible and deadly sound that promised worse to follow.</blockquote>

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