Descent Into Avernus
The Qirozz Affair
You son of a bitch, I’m in!The plan was agreed. A double fake, taking the skull whilst making it appear as if was still there, various distractions and alternates, backup plans. Oh: and sacrificing an angel. Spider ran through the steps:
- All party members, except Sam go into the ballroom
- Sam goes around to the back wall of the skull room and scopes the exit for Spider
- Madam Portencia goes into the room with the skull (if allowed), or lets Tabitha sneak under the curtain and view the skull
- Spider casts an illusion to hide Madam Portencia as she makes a copy of the skull
- Madam Portencia, magically creates an exact physical copy of the crystal skull (which lasts 12 hours)
- Madam Portencia gives the fake skull to Spider
- Spider turns invisible
- Spider and Tabitha goes through the curtain in the skull room
- Madam Portencia dispels the traps on the plinth
- Madam Portencia lets Spider know, via Tabitha, that the dispel has worked
“And if it doesn’t?” Torgrun asked.
“Darling if it doesn’t work we will be in a world of hurt,” Madam Portencia smiled weakly.
“What you’re about to do might be distraction enough even if the alarms do go off,” Spider grinned and continued:
- Torgrun summons an angel outside the curtain of the skull room
- The Celestial comes under immediate attack from the guards and most of the party guests - including, if necessary, the heist team - in order to avert suspicion
“I will not do that,” Morad interrupted, outraged. Spider shrugged and moved on:
- If the Celestial won’t summon - set fire to shit
“That I can do,” Morad muttered.
- Spider, still invisible, takes the real skull from the plinth and replaces it with the fake
- Spider steps through the wall using Sam’s eyes (if possible), or Spider remains invisible and leaves through front door in the chaos
- The party leaves through the front door!
Mak looked dubious as Spider concluded. Crazy city-folk, he thought for the thousandth time. Still, it was a plan, and that was better than nothing. But as everyone knew, no plan survived contact with the enemy.
Mahadi outfitted those that wished in elegant formal attire: silk pantaloons for Madam Portencia, a beautiful hooded wrap over Spider’s new devil-skin armour, and a gorgeous flowing silk kimono for Bili that showed off his growing breasts to best advantage. Morad presented in a perfectly cut, crisp-linen suit, in matt black. “That’s a good look for you,” Spider observed approvingly.
Torgrun glowed in his new gold-tinted armour, hard to miss and a fine match for the improved Holy Terror II, whilst Mak opted for a polished version of his normal gear, finding wearing anything more made things unbearably hot. Mahadi encouraged something slightly more formal so as not to stand out, and Mak grudgingly accepted a shimmering silk cloak that flowed around Mak’s big form like water. He found it slightly frustrating to wear, never staying in place and getting in the way, but he did cut a fine figure.
Before leaving for the ball, Spider presented Madam Portencia with her resplendent new wig - finer than any she’d sported thus far. A somewhat inscrutable look crossed Madam Portencia’s face as she accepted the gift. “Under the circumstances - thank you.”
Once everyone was prepared, Mahadi ushered everyone to the waiting vehicles. “Farewell my friends, I wish you well on this endeavour! Madam, your friend - her freedom awaits should you pull this off. If not, well, I may never see you again. In either case, it has been an honour and I do hope to see you soon!”
Morad started the Holy Terror II, three-quarter covered in new gold armour, Mak and Bili hopped onto their bike, and Mahadi led the convoy out into the wastelands.
After some hours, a basalt citadel loomed on the horizon. The splendid structure jutted out of a vast pitted and cratered plain, reaching into the sky.
Mahadi had given strict instructions to detach from the convoy once the citadel drew near, and Morad slowed to allow Mahadi to arrive well before the heist team.
Pulling to a stop some time later, everyone disembarked. Ahead, a host of purple-vested devils greeted the arrivals to the Ball, checking names of a list before allowing them to proceed. The guests then passed through a grand thirty-foot wide entrance carved into the basalt. The only problem was the entrance was a curtain of green flame. “Oh,” Madam Portencia said nervously.
It was time to set the plan in motion.
Spider sent Sam off on his mission to the far side of the citadel. “Spider, I hope to see you again,” Sam messaged. “It’ll be fine, Sam - I know I can get out,” Spider laughed. Sam grunted and vanished.
Torgrun blessed everyone with some motivational magic, and walked confidently toward the check-in. Morad noted Lulu wasn’t hovering over Torgrun’s shoulder, which he wondered about briefly before turning his attention to getting inside.
Spider had secreted several shuriken and a dagger, all non-magical, easily hidden during the pat-down from the security detail before the entrance. No-one else risked taking anything - a wise decision Torgrun decided as he watched a protesting kobold being manhandled into a nearby holding pen, his guards waving a very short sword they’d extracted from his person.
Once Mahadi’s invites had been validated, the devil at the door inscribed each name into a scroll made of humanoid skin. Everyone but Morad (‘Jakkari’) gave their real names. Blood oozed out of the wedge of flesh as the names were added.
The flaming entrance lay ahead. Other guests - mainly devils, but some humanoids - seemed to pass through unharmed. Madam Portencia held her hands up to the fire, finding there was no heat coming from it. Torgrun didn’t hesitate, striding through the burning wall. There was no screams and he wasn’t ejected, so everyone followed him through…and gasped as they felt Torgrun’s magical courage - and Mahadi’s feast for those that partook - being dissolved in the ‘cleansing’ flame.
Torgrun, having gone first, realised the obviously magical dispelling threw a spanner in one of the escape plans - if the flames removed magical effects, then there was going to be no way to vanish and waltz out unnoticed.
Inside, the gala was in full swing. Devils, humanoids, and other interesting invitees mingled in a large room full of laughter, shouts, and whispered conversations. Elegant music from skilled bards filled the rooms which were well lit by hundreds of candles in chandeliers and sconces.
Qirozz had spared no expense: devils filtered through the gala offering rare delicacies such as pickled mortal flesh, roasted weretiger, and seared abyssal chicken. Fine wine, cider, and foaming stout was available. Arched ceilings loomed overhead, the walls were adored with carvings of debauchery and triumph, and the floor was a polished mirror of black marble.
Spider was quick to note the guards, a mixture of imps, Bearded Devils, and slavering Hellhounds. The guests ranged from Spined Devils to elvish mages, Amnizu, slithering snake-headed creatures, every type of creature found under the Avernian sun - and beyond. There must be hundreds, Spider estimated - more than he had expected.
Perched on a throne welcoming each guest was an enormous purple-skinned devil that could only be Qirozz.
Qirozz
Her voice was like rocks being crushed in a quarry. “Welcome to my Ball! Everything here is for your pleasure, most of all the Fetid Chalice! Be sure to visit it, you shall not see its like in all of the Nine Hells,” Qirozz said with pride, her razor-sharp smile sending shivers down everyone’s spine. She immediately turned her attention to the next guests.
Stepping up into the main ballroom, Madam Portencia was surprised to see the curtains surrounding the display chamber were drawn, allowing clear visibility. The unveil must have already taken place - which thankfully meant one less challenge to overcome, she mused.
Entering the room threw up a new one however. Hovering overhead was an heavily muscled devil with curved horns and enormous wings which beat slowly as it sat above the treasure below. It watched idly as guests entered the room. Morad groaned inwardly - how was that thing going to be removed from the board?
A marble pedestal stood in the centre of the room, partitioned off from the attendees by ropes. Resting upon the pedestal was a canine skull adorned with gems, gilded patterns and ornate scrollwork with golden inlays. The skull was open-topped, befitting a chalice, and made of solid crystal.
As Mak entered the room, Slobberchops hissed and clawed his shoulder. Mak knew what this meant: some kind of invisible creature - historically imps, based on past events. He whispered this to Madam Portencia, who approached the skull and confirmed his suspicion: sitting inside the skull were two invisible imps. She swore softly under her breath.
Spider’s eyes widened as he approached the chalice: the skull was much larger than Mahadi had explained. So large, indeed, that the entire plan teetered for a moment. There was no way he would be able to sleight-of-hand something almost bigger than himself! It was at least four-feet long, and must weigh at least 100 kilos.
Flashback!
Spider pressed Mahadi for more details about the skull. “Just how large is this thing,” Spider asked, “We’re going to need more precision that your hand waving."
Mahadi adopted a thoughtful pose as he considered this. “Well, now that you ask, I suppose it is larger than your average skull.” Spider pressed for more information. “Mak over there is our biggest unit - is it bigger than his head?"
“Oh, yes, certainly bigger. Good point!"
“Ok, fine. And I’m all of, let’s call it a tall four-feet, and I’m going to be the one nickin' it. So what do you think the likelihood of me being able to carry this head?"
“No chance! You’re not new to this game are you?” Mahadi laughed. He glanced over at Mak. “The big man would be able to carry it, but I think the skull is actually bigger than you. And now that you bring it up - it’s not so much made of bone as…crystal?"
“Right, so it’s huge and massively heavy,” Spider grimaced. “In that case we’re going to need magical help. Maybe something that can be used to say…shrink it?"
“Shrink it?"
“Temporarily, we don’t want it permanent."
“Sounds like magic to me. I’m sure Luizhana could assist,” Mahadi smiled. “Tell her I sent you - this one is on the house."
Spider grinned and set out to find what he needed - as well as a backup potion of strength, just in case.
Spider was quietly confident. The scroll he had acquired from Luizhana would be perfect. He breathed a sigh of relief, and patted himself on the back for the prep. He pinged Sam quickly, who confirmed he was in position outside.
At the skull and room was cased, Mak watched an imp appear from behind the only undrawn curtain with a tray of infernal snacks and drinks. ‘Kitchen,’ Mak muttered, noting it for future reference.
Torgrun had wandered up to the Northmost room, observing the guests carefully. He climbed the marble steps into another open chamber, and found Mahadi was there talking to an impressive lion-headed creature with folded wings.
Mahadi was listening to the creature who was having a tirade about the Ball. “I tell you Mahadi, I am absolutely fed up with these tiresome Balls. Qirozz insists on my presence, and I know better than to cross her, but honestly - how many times must we here her story? If I had my way we would blow this thing up and never have to come again!” Mahadi nodded sympathetically, taking a sip of his golden drink. Torgrun recalled Mahadi being just as unenthused when he had talked of the Ball back at his Emporium. Mahadi didn’t acknowledge Torgrun at all, unsurprisingly.
Another guest stood out from the hoi-poloi, a gnome in an ornate black robe embroidered with arcane symbols. He was positioned outside Mak’s kitchen, scarfing down treats as they emerged carried by imps. He was holding court with a a bored looking arcanaloth, pontificating about his superior magicks. His arrogant eyes darted around the room looking for attention as he talked up his skills. Torgrun remembered Mahadi mentioning an archmage named Pingle, employed by Qirozz to protect the Chalice, and as if on cue Qirozz started to lecture his audience. “Of course, yes, I designed it all! I could let you in on the secret - but then I’d have to kill you!” he laughed.
Bili was exploring the main Ballroom when he noticed one guest in particular stood out. A gorgeous minotaur glided through the crowd in a shimmering ballgown, obviously made by an artisan of the finest order. Bili was mesmerised, and felt his blood - and more - stirring. He made a beeline for the horned goddess, feeling his species-fluidity shifting to a decidedly bovine bent.
The minotaur noticed Bili’s attention, and spun in a graceful circle, her dress billowing. “My, my, aren’t you a handsome one!” she laughed. “I’m Lexi.”
“I’m Bili, and you’re beautiful,” Bili smiled back. “I like your dress.”
Lexi blushed with pleasure as she shimmied again. “Why thank you, I am thrilled to hear you like it. I had it crafted specially for this event.”
“As was my gown,” Bili said, throwing it open to reveal his swelling chest and finely honed physique. Lexi stared with open desire, this time flushing instead of blushing. “Goodness, my old boyfriend would hate to see me running my hands over that chest,” she breathed, glancing at the horned devil guarding the chalice as she did. Bili noticed this and an alternate plan of distraction started to form in his overheated brain. A plan that coincidentally meant he could also fulfil his own rock-hard desire.
“Is your boyfriend here?” Bili asked innocently.
“He is! His name is Uz, and he’s that big lump guarding the Chalice. I am quite sick of him,” Lexi complained, then her face lit up. “Let’s dance! It will drive him wild with jealousy!”
“I would love to,” Bili said, taking Lexi’s hand and pulling her toward him. For the first few steps Bili almost stumbled, but then he and Lexi suddenly found their rhythm. Their heaving chests pressed close as he began to dance the dance of his life, swinging and weaving Lexi through the crowds until space was cleared so they could strut their stuff. Bili only had eyes for Lexi, and Lexi for Bili, as they cast a spell on the Ball.
Bili led Lexi into the skull room, ensuring the horned devil couldn’t miss the action. Madam Portencia and Spider watched incredulously as Bili waltzed through the room. “Not again,” Spider groaned, shuddering as he thought back to Red Ruth. Bili moved on, and smiled when he saw Uz scowling as he swept Lexi past and back out into the ballroom, pulling one of the curtains closed behind him as he exited. He hoped that Uz would lose sight of Lexi, which might draw him forth.
Lexi noticed this, but shook her head. “He won’t leave that room for anything,” she said. “He’s very boring.”
“He noticed us, so you never know,” Bili smiled back.
“There is one thing you could try - he’s very partial to a drink called The Blood of Angels. It’s very expensive - milking angel blood isn’t cheap! But Qirozz can serve it on special request. And if Uz gets a sniff of it he finds it hard to resist,” Lexi grinned conspiratorially.
“Well then, let me obtain some,” Bili smiled. He swung near the room again and made eye contact with Spider, who idled over. “See if you can find a drink, Blood of Angels,” Bili whispered. Spider nodded, making eye contact with Lexi and winking - she’d made a good catch. Lexi grinned and leaned into Bili as Spider departed. “When we finish dancing, I think we should find a quiet room and finish something else,” Lexi said lustfully, reaching below Bili’s loincloth for the burgeoning treasure within. Bili pulled her close, grabbed her ample rump, and agreed.
Spider found an imp and asked about the drink. “Ah! A special drink for you,” it grinned. “Not many ask for it, but those that do enjoy it immensely. We can prepare it for you - it is the actual blood of an angel, so it is expensive.”
“How much is expensive?”
“One soul coin. I hear your intake of breath - but it is angel blood!”
“Is it fresh?”
“Very fresh! You won’t have drunk anything like it - it will give you quite the insight,” the imp hinted.
“Fine, I’ll be waiting,” Spider said, handing over the coin.
Spider returned to the skull room and gathered the rest of the team, just another cluster of unnoticed guests amongst the party. “Thoughts?” Spider said quietly.
“You can’t take that through the wall, right?” Mak said.
Spider shrugged. “Not at that size I can’t, but I have a way around that.” He pulled out the scroll and passed it to Madam Portencia. She unrolled it and smiled. “This should work.”
“A bigger problem is lifting the replacement onto the plinth,” Spider said. “It will be way heavier that I can lift - so either you or Morad will need to heft it.”
Mak nodded, adapting the plan in his head. “There are also two imps in the skull,” he added. Madam Portencia nodded confirmation.
“And that’s a problem too,” Spider said.
“Look,” Morad said quietly. “If Bili can draw the guard out, which is why I hope he was dancing through here,” he said to Spider’s grimace, “Mak then carries the fake to the plinth, unnoticed because I’m in the main room and I’ve just challenged someone to a duel.” He had been thinking quickly and this seemed a good honourable means to an end.
“You’ve got no weapon!” Spider said, raining on Morad’s parade.
Morad was one step ahead. “I have no weapon, but Qirozz will provide one - it will be a show, and devils love a show.”
“Morad - are you doing that to save the Celestial?” Torgrun asked.
“I’m doing it to save Madam Portencia,” Morad said bluntly.
“Because we already have the distraction of the Celestial,” Torgrun pressed.
“But we need to do two distractions now. One before, one to clear this room to get the fake skull in, then another to get the real one out. And hopefully your Celestial saves me from dying in the duel.”
“How do I get the skull in here?” Mak asked. “Madam Portencia has to create it somewhere that’s not here.”
“Madam Portencia creates one of those doors, like with Feonor,” Morad said. Madam Portencia nodded - it could work. “But I need a minute after creating the skull,” she warned. Morad frowned - a minute was a long duel! The timing was going to have to be precise.
“And I need a space to recreate the skull, now I’ve seen it,” Madam Portencia said pointedly. “Leave that to me,” Torgrun nodded. Based on Mahadi’s map, he figured the room closest to the Chalice display would be best. He walked to the smallish room, finding the door open. Inside an Amnizu talked quietly to a finely-dressed devil. An imp hovered in the corner, obviously avoiding work. Torgrun settled down and listened to the conversation as they discussed various political intrigues and leadership challenges.
After a few moments the devils noticed Torgrun’s interest, and the fact he had plonked down for a long stay on the couch in the room. The Amnizu inclined its head toward the ballroom and both devils exited, leaving only the imp. Torgrun stared at the imp until it was forced to respond. “Can I interest you in anything? Drinks, morsels?”
“No. Get out,” Torgrun said bluntly.
“Must I?” the imp pleaded. Torgrun merely stared. The imp sighed and fluttered out. Torgrun sprung to his feet and quickly tested the door. He could close it, but there was no key to lock it. Still - it was a space, and it was now empty. The plan was starting to come together.
As Torgrun planned his next move, and the skull contingent agreed on the modified plan, a sudden hush fell over the ballroom, emanating from the entrance. Torgrun stood in his doorway and turned his head and gasped. Walking through the flaming entrance was a towering devil flanked by two very well armed Erinyes. All the guests nearby was dropping prostrate to the floor, frozen in fear.
It was Zariel.
Zariel coming
She strode through the ballroom oblivious to the cringing sycophants splayed on the shining floor, an ornate hammer hanging from her belt. Qirozz followed meekly behind, simpering her gratitude at being so honoured as she furiously kowtowed. Bili dropped to the floor as Zariel drew near, deciding against standing out. Lexi clutched his hand. Torgrun dropped to his knees, watching closely as the Archdevil passed.
Torgrun noted that only Mahadi stayed on his feet, wandering in from the northern alcove and leaning against a wall. He merely nodded as Zariel moved past him. She paid him no heed as she swept into the Chalice chamber. The heist crew immediately dropped to the ground - but not Morad. He refused to let himself be so debased, taking a huge risk by crouching on his haunches and using one of the entry-pillars as a shield to her attention. He held his breath, but it seemed to work.
Zariel stepped toward the skull. Madam Portencia watched Qirozz signalling to Pingle and frantically drawing her hand over her throat. Pingle quickly incanted a few words, finishing them just as Zariel reached out to pick it up. The size and weight didn’t seem to phase her at all.
Zariel hefted the skull and looked at it closely. The room was absolutely silent. When she spoke her voice was like cold iron.
“I remember Verwyyr. And now he, like me, is here.” Zariel paused, then placed the skull back on the plinth. “Take good care of him.”
Zariel passed her eye over the room as she turned to leave, and for the briefest moment the heist crew felt her gaze lingering, before it moved on. Her presence and focus in that moment was overwhelming.
And almost as suddenly as she had arrived, Zariel had left the building.
For a few seconds there was utter silence, then the party exploded into life with intense excitement and feverish chattering. Zariel had been here! Zariel! The Archduke of Avernus! This party wasn’t so boring after all - even the androsphinx was impressed.
Torgrun unfroze, realising he’d barely moved in the presence of the Archdevil. He was struck by a sudden thought: we have a patsy to blame if the skull disappears: Zariel! There was a certain beauty to this addition to the plan. Who would accuse Zariel herself of theft, but who better to suspect given her interest in the skull. Torgrun smirked.
He stuck his head outside the room again, watching the hubbub of guests clustered around the entrance hoping to catch a last glimpse of the Archduke. The ballroom was somewhat cleared as a result, and he watched as Lexi hauled Bili back to his feet. The clock was now ticking, he figured. Time to act.
Torgun caught the eye of Morad, who still had his back to the pillar, and inclined his head toward his room.
Spider jumped to his feet, nerves tingling. The room was almost empty now - which meant the game was on. He felt Sam contact him from outside. “Spider - what’s going on?”
“We just had a visit from the big Z.”
“The big Z?”
“She’s quite impressive. I mean my nose was kissing the dirt, but I had a peek.”
“Well maybe we should leave now?” Sam said weakly.
“No, in fact, I think she might have done us a solid,” Spider said thoughtfully, arriving at the same conclusion Torgrun had.
“Well. I should let you know - I’m fifty feet up in the air. So be careful with your misty step!”
Spider stopped. “What? Why?”
“Because there’s nothing but a sheer wall out here. Simple.”
“But is there somewhere for me to stand?”
“Yes. The ground. Fifty feet down.”
“Right,” Spider groaned, mentally adjusting this new complexity into the plan.
In the skull room, Madam Portencia brushed down her dress and she rose to her feet, grabbed Spider and whispered. “Spider - Pingle removed the protections on the Chalice. We need to act. Soon.”
Spider agreed, pointing out Morad was already moving. Madam Portencia felt suddenly anxious as she realised it was about to kick off. “If I make a four foot skull in Torgrun’s fucking room, how are we going to get it back out?” she hissed to Spider.
“You’re going to do one of those doorway things, right here, when I give you the signal,” Spider answered.
“Oh. Ok,” Madam Portencia said, the sudden tension just as suddenly easing. At least someone knew what was going on. She headed off after Morad.
Morad saw Togrun’s signal, thought he understood, and walked to the room.
“Where’s Madam Portencia,” Torgrun said quietly, surprised when Morad walked in alone.
“You signal, I come,” Morad protested, realising he was feeling out of his depth with the complexity of the plan. He hadn’t realised things were starting.
As Torgrun hustled Morad inside he was relieved to see Madam Portencia motoring across the room too. As he stepped aside for her the Amnizu that had earlier inhabited the room approached again. Torgrun flexed his wings to dominate the doorway. “No,” he said in infernal. “There are some inside who are…indisposed. Sorry.”
“I don’t mind, in fact I like to watch,” the Amnizu said sleazily. “Out of the way.”
Torgrun shook his head. “This is not the room you’re looking for,” he said in no uncertain terms. “You’ll have to come back later, there might be something left.” Torgrun was surprisingly convincing, though Morad kept his hand on his sword - until he remembered he didn’t have one and felt suddenly naked.
“Ah. One of those gatherings is it? Feeding time. I will return for the scraps,” the devil leered, before bowing and withdrawing. Torgrun breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the door closed.
Mak, seeing an opportunity now the skull room was mostly emptied, pulled the curtain aside to the area where the food-carrying imp had emerged and walked inside. The medium sized room beyond was clearly the kitchen prep area, with piles of foodstuffs and harried devils moving between benches. All the inhabitants were devils, save one humanoid woman with grey hair tied up in a bun.
Standing immediately inside was a heavily muscled red-skinned devil wrapped in spiked chains. Its gazed followed Mak closely, passing a chain slowly through its hands. Mak sized the creature up - it was a guard, unlike the rest of the devils in here. And he noted a door to the outside, through which the occasional imp came carrying trays loaded with goods.
Mak decided to make a scene to test what would happen. “Ice!” he yelled, “Where is the ice?!” Most of the staff ignored this as an obviously absurd request, save the woman. When Mak spoke, she stopped what she was doing and drew herself upright. She turned to face Mak, and both froze for a second in shocked recognition.
It was Duke Thalamra Vanthampur.
Thalamra Vanthampur
The Duke, rolling pin in hand, frowned on seeing Mak and glanced at the chain devil.
Mak grabbed her attention before she could speak. “I’m looking for ice.”
“What are you doing here? I told you I’d see you in Hell, and now here you are,” Vanthampur grimaced.
“We’re all here now, aren’t we,” Mak said, looking around and pulling open containers and draws. “Where is my ice?”
“I don’t think you’re meant to be here,” she threatened.
“I’ve been invited, like you,” Mak said simply.
Vanthampur was no spring chicken. She knew what Mak was doing. “You there,” she called to the chain devil. “This one is an intruder”
The devil turned its attention to Mak, who calmly pulled out his invitation and dropped it on the floor. “Get me my drink,” he ordered.
“Pick it up,” the devil said to Vanthampur, who scowled and creakily reached down to grab the scrap of paper and slap in on the benchtop. The devil scanned it briefly. “It’s all in order. Back to work,” it said to Vanthampur, “And don’t talk to me again.”
Vanthampur spat, glared at Mak, and went back to her station. Mak pondered again the strange ways of the cityfolk - once a Duke, now a kitchen slave, and all for what? He turned to leave when he heard voices from the skull room.
Spider remained in the skull room, as well as a few lingering guests, and he was perturbed to see Pingle shove his way inside. “Everyone out,” the gnome mage ordered, “Now!” The guests shuffled out, leaving only the horned devil and Spider.
Pingle glared at Spider. “I told you - get out.” As he spoke the curtains all drew closed simultaneously.
“Oh yeah fine, I was just waiting for my drink-”
“Well wait outside,” Pingle demanded.
“What’s a guy gotta do to get his cup of Angel’s Blood in these parts?” Spider said loudly as he slowly started moving. Uz, the horned devil, spun to face Spider when he heard those magic words. “Angel’s Blood, you say? Where is it?”
“Well it’s on order, should be here any moment. The bloody staff are taking their time,” Spider explained.
Uz nodded and turned back to Pingle. “He’s with me,” it hissed, indicating to Spider to approach.
“Gah! Just - get out of the way, I have work to do,” Pingle said angrily.
Spider stood with Uz as he watched Pingle start to pull reagents from his robe. Spider realised he didn’t have long before the skull’s magical protection would be re-established. He opened an urgent channel to Madam Portencia: “We’ve got trouble here - get a move on!”
Mak, overhearing Pingle’s demands, decided it was time to up the ante. He turned back to the kitchen and started overturning bowls and smashing things. “Where’s some fucking ice!” he cried. A cluster of devils entered the room from the Northern room, wondering at the commotion.
Vanthampur spun around. “There’s no fucking ice here, Mak! This is not Vanthampur Manor, this is fucking Hell!” She chopped the hideous pile of flesh on her bench furiously, grinding disembodied fingers with a mortar and pestle.
As Mak continued his rampage, the door opened and an imp emerged with a gold tray on which sat a single crystal goblet full of a blood-red liquid. Spider’s drink had arrived.
Morad was confused. Madam Portencia was locked in the room with him shaping threads of fel-energy into something that was starting to resemble the skull. Torgrun was guarding the door. He felt helpless without a weapon, so he scanned the room to see what he could fashion. There was a mirror, chairs, a table. The mirror he’d have to smash, but the chair looked wreckable. He set about freeing one leg. If nothing else he could defend Madam Portencia.
Madam Portencia took a deep breath as she finished her creation. A perfect replica of the skull sat on the table in front or her. So perfect that it weighed just as much as the real thing. She tried to lift it and realised there was no way that was happening.
“Morad, dear, this is for you,” she said, pointing to the skull. Just as she did she received Spider’s message. “Quickly now!”
Morad shoved the makeshift club into his belt and easily hauled the skull of the table, plonking it over his shoulder. “Where to?”
Madam Portencia smiled and opened a dimension door to the skull room. ““Come on sweetie!” she said, grabbing Morad’s free hand.
Bili was being bombarded with Lexi’s excited chatter. “That was incredible! I have never been in a room with Lady Zariel before, that was the most wonderful thing and she was the most wonderful creature. I am all aflutter!”
“Are you indeed,” Bili smiled, flashing his chiselled thighs and more as Lexi gasped. “You’re as excited as I am!” she groaned lustily. She yanked Bili into the room off the Ballroom to the North. “Come! We only have a moment!”
Bili followed enthusiastically. She slammed the door closed and ripped her dress aside. Bili dropped his kimono and loincloth, revealing himself in his fully engorged glory. They joined together with thunderous passion.
Torgrun watched bemused as Bili was hauled away by Lexi, noting the door opposite shaking in its frame. He must have a plan, Torgrun thought hopefully. Quite a enjoyable plan he considered, briefly, before shuddering and cleansing his mind with a quick prayer.
He glanced back inside his room and saw Madam Portencia opening the portal. It was time. He took a few steps into the ballroom, unseen due to the continued excitement about Zariel. He saw Mahadi still standing on the stairs opposite, and lined up a space over Mahadi’s head. He took a deep breath. This was the moment he had been dreading, but it had to be done.
He waited a few seconds until he heard Madam Portencia. “Torgrun - now!”
He muttered another prayer, then cast his spell. In the room behind Mahadi a radiant glow appeared, and with a crack of lightning and flash of blinding light, Torgrun’s angel was summoned to Hell.
At just the same moment, Bili and Lexi consummated their passion, crying out in unison in the heights of unadulterated pleasure. Bili felt the presence of something greater and knew what he and Lexi had done was blessed with the guidance of the gods. Bringing love to Hell, he smiled, holding Lexi tight, bathing in the afterglow.
Spider heard the crash and noticed it caused Pingle to hesitate slightly, but not for long. He prayed Madam Portencia had got his message and started to move. “I’m going to find my drink,” he said, realising this was weak cover but Pingle was sufficiently distracted.
Just as he moved, the imp emerged from the kitchen. “Sir I have your special order! One serve of Blood of Angels.”
Mak stopped his wrecking-ball and moved to follow the imp into the skull room. When he reached the curtain, the chain devil stepped in front. “No entry.”
“Says who?” Mak asked angrily.
“Says me.”
Mak stared into the creatures eyes. Whoever blinked first was going to pay a heavy price.
The angel, a tall and graceful elfin beauty wielding a hammer very similar to that of Zariel, appeared in a room full of devils. For the second time a silence fell over the ball, before erupting into a frenzy of gleeful shouts and battle cries.
The angel hefted its hammer. “You shall not pass, fiends!!”
Every. Single. Devil. piled onto the celestial. None had weapons, which meant the fight was a one-sided bloodbath of claws, jaws, and everything in between. The angel tried to dodge and move, but it was swamped under the seething mass.
Mahadi pulled his attention away from the melee and spun to face Torgrun. He grinned.
As a holy act, it was blasphemy. As a distraction, it was perfect.
Torgrun held Mahadi’s eye for a moment, feeling sick to his stomach. But there was a job to be done. He ran across the empty ballroom and hauled the curtain open and ran toward Pingle.
“Oh Hell! There’s a celestial! Save us!”
Pingle was drawing his hands back to cast and focussed his eyes to resist Torgrun’s attemped distraction.
Mak shoved past the devil, but before he could take more than a few steps he felt a chain wrap around his chest and rip into the flesh, hauling him toward the devil. His arms were trapped by the chain.
“I said no,” it hissed, pulling Mak inches away from its face.
Spider saw Mak half-emerge before being yanked back. He swore and quickly ran to the imp. “My drink’s here,” he yelled, hoping to distract Pingle.
“My drink,” a booming voice from above corrected as Uz dropped to the floor and lifted the goblet, draining the rich draught in one swallow. The imp retreated quickly, not wanting to experience a horned devil drunk on the good stuff.
Spider faked a protest - “Hey! That’s my drink, I paid good money!!” - which allowed him to hide his true purpose: summoning mage hands that he shoved unceremoniously between Pingle’s hands, pushing them aside and disrupting his cast just before it was ready.
“Arrgh! What!? What is going on!!” Pingle cursed. “I am going to have to start again!” He spun to Torgrun. “Did you do that?!” he yelled angrily.
“What do you mean you’ve got to start again?!” Torgrun cried in response. “There’s a Celestial! Help us!”
“What do you mean a Celestial? I have no time for this nonsense!”
“No one will help us, we need you!” Torgrun cried, appealing to Pingle’s ego as he recalled the mage’s earlier behaviour.
It worked. Pingle cursed again, and seeing Uz drinking he turned to Torgrun. “Guard this,” he said, pointing to the Chalice. “No one comes near, you understand? I’ll be back in a moment!” He rushed outside.
Torgrun waited a beat, then followed Pingle outside.
Bili and Lexi emerged from their love-nest, hand in hand. The ballroom was empty and Bili pulled Lexi toward the Chalice room calling out as he moved, “That was amazing!”. Lexi glowed and mooed with satisfaction. Bili cast a quick cantrip to ensure Uz’s attention, and enhanced his dance with heavy sexual overtones.
The horned devil had drained its drink, its skin flushed red. Hearing Lexi’s distinctive call, even over the screams and crowing excitement of the angel’s assault. He stared at Bili and Lexi dancing beyond, then growled and shattered the goblet on the ground.
It rose into the air and sped out toward the lovers.
Morad and Madam Portencia bampfed through the magic door, appearing behind the skull just as Uz exited. “Spider! You’re up!” Madam Portencia yelled.
Spider leapt onto the plinth, hoping the imps were still where Madam Portencia had described them. He bathed the chalice in a sleep spell, and was relived to see two impish figures appear, deep in slumber. Spider grinned with satisfaction, reaching down to haul them out.
And toppled over backwards.
He had totally midjudged the weight of the imps, and as he fell he accidentally flung both imps through the air as he desperately tried to regain his balance.
And the plan had been going so well, Spider considered as he fell.
Morad reacted fast, sprinting toward where the imps were going to drop. They were heading directly for the wall of the room, and would wake the moment they hit.
Madam Portencia watched, incredulous. She couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Spider had fell? She shook her head to clear the unbelievable vision, but it was still there.
Barely thinking, acting on pure adrenalin and instinct, she pulled a feather from her boa and cast the first thing that came into her head.
Feather-fall.
Morad skidded to a halt as he saw the two imps suddenly stop their inexorable flight into the wall and slowly start to float toward the ground, still deep in slumber. He caught them gently and cradled them in his arms. He glanced at Madam Portencia who looked back wild eyed before breaking into a huge grin.
Hearing the angel’s demise proceeding outside, Mak pulled the chain devil closer still. “Come on brother, let’s get ourselves some of that!” he tempted, hauling the devil toward the fight.
The devil shook his head. “I’m having more fun with you,” he said, pulling the chains tighter. Mak had had enough, and flexed himself out of the grappling chains, charging into the devil and through the curtain into the skull room. As they fell through Mak felt something wooden crunch into his skull.
Spider, recovering his feet, saw Mak and a devil covered with chains crash through the curtains in a rumble. He was about to assist when he saw something that caused him to double take. Was that Thalamra Vanthampur? And why was she wailing on Mak with a rolling pin?!
Vanthampur stopped mid swing when she saw Spider. And Morad. And Madam Portencia.
“What the fuck?! You fucking bastards!!”
Torgrun followed Pingle. Despite being assigned to guard duty, he wanted to be seen to ensure that he wouldn’t take the blame should the skull vanish.
Pingle ran into the angel room. There was nothing left. Just a festering cluster of devils overcome by bloodlust and joy, cheering at their triumph.
The mage spun back and came face-to-face with Torgrun. “What are you doing!? I told you to guard the skull!”
“What’s happening!” Torgrun yelled. “I can’t see!”
“Get out of my way,” Pingle grunted.
Torgrun didn’t, pushing Pingle back into to the melee room. “There’s something here still, I can sense it! We still need you!”
Madam Portencia realised there were two witnesses to the heist - the chain devil and Vanthampur. That wasn’t good. She fired a chromatic orb of cold at the chain devil which he barely seem to notice. Luckily enough it was still engaged with Mak, back to the skull.
Uz descended on Bili and Lexi, flames of jealously burning in its eyes. “Get your hands off my girl!” it yelled. Lexi laughed and grabbed Bili closer to her. “Come and get me!” she cried.
The devil hauled his pitchfork back and stabbed at Bili in rapid succession. The first struck true, but he hiccuped on the second and wedged the fork in the rock instead. A weak tail swipe followed and missed. The drink was obviously taking effect.
Lexi laughed with delight.
Morad laid the imps in the fake skull. He hefted it onto his shoulder. “Go!” he yelled at Spider.
Spider ran to Morad and cast his spell over the plinth. A perfect replica of the scene was overlaid on what lay beneath. “Madam Portencia - you’re up!”
Madam Portencia unravelled the scroll Spider had provided and quickly read the spell within. The real skull instantly shrunk to a regular dog’s head size. She carefully picked it up, allowing Morad to lower the imp-filled fake in its place.
Madam Portencia, Spider, and Morad suddenly realised they’d actually done it. The swap was done.
End game time.
Mak withdrew to the far end of the kitchen, feeling an opportunist strike rip down his back as he did. He spun around and fired two scorching rays at the devil and Vanthampur. The devil merely laughed, charging toward Mak. As he drew near he suddenly stopped, glared at Mak, then exited through the Northern door, obviously having been summonsed elsewhere. Mak breathed a sigh of relief.
Vanthampur on the other hand went up in flames, crying out in agony.
“You fucking fucks!” she cried, turning to find Spider instead of persuing Mak through the flames.
Morad, skull job done, pulled his makeshift club from his belt and walked calmly toward Vanthampur. She hefted her rolling pin. “Try me!” he hissed.
Morad didn’t hesitate. This wasn’t an old woman, this was an evil demon. He brought the chair-leg down onto her skull. She collapsed to her knees, spitting blood and teeth onto the floor. She lifted her head and looked Morad in the eye, smiling through her bloody mouth.
Morad followed through with a second blow, bringing it up under her chin. Her head was flung back and she collapsed into a pool of blood on the floor, dead.
Morad knelt beside her, closed her eyes, and prayed for her soul now it was finally released. The peace he normally felt didn’t descend on him - the tension was too high. But he didn’t regret or question his actions. Her death was a mercy.
In the angel room, the devils were having the best time ever, singing and dancing continued where the angels' vanished corpse. Qirozz glowed as the cries of ‘best party ever!’ were yelled with glee. ‘First Zariel, then an angel to slaughter!’
Torgrun grimaced, but managed to keep Pingle distracted, pointing out the traces of angelic presence that remained. Pingle was intrigued enough to try and take samples, but Torgrun knew he couldn’t hold him here much longer. He offered a silent prayer to Torm that the crew had had enough time as Pingle shoved past him and stalked back toward the skull.
As he did, Torgrun noticed a chain devil emerge from the kitchen’s northern door, making a beeline for Pingle.
Uz was clearly quite drunk now, and landed on top of Bili and Lexi. All three collapsed to the ground in a tangle of wings, horns, and finely toned muscle.
Bili shunted a tiny ice blade into Uz, who laughed it off. “Not such a threat after all,” he scoffed. “You know up close you’re actually quite a handsome specimen,” Uz said, warming to the idea that had popped into its head.
The rest of the party had started to notice this new entertainment, and were flowing into the ballroom to watch as what looked like a three-species threesome was getting underway.
Bili decided to make it four. He turned into a white bear.
A cry of delight went up from the watching crowd, topped only by that from Lexi who squealed with pleasure. “Oh. My. God. You’re also a bear?!” She ravaged Bili with renewed vigour, her udders shuddering in anticipation.
“Fight! Fuck! Fight! Fuck!” the crowd started chanting. “Best party! Best party!”
Flashback!
Morad approached Luizhana nervously. “Lady, I think - I am a bit scared about something I may have to do. Could you have a potion that would hide me, so if things got bad I could escape? Something almost immediate."
“Of course my good man,” Luizhana smiled. She reached into the display of potions behind her. “The minute you drink this, bang, you’re gone! Invisible to all. Or almost all,” she grinned.
Morad stepped away from Vanthampur’s body and moved behind the plinth. He pulled out his potion and swigged it, vanishing instantly.
Madam Portencia saw Morad disappear and smiled, proud of her handsome bodyguard.
Time to go.
“Spider - can you get out of here?”
“Yes.”
Madam Portencia handed the miniaturised skull to Spider, who wrapped it carefully in his new cloak. He nodded farewell, “See you on the other side!”
He ran toward the wall, closing his eyes to visualise what Sam could see outside. As promised, it was a fifty foot drop, which meant the best Spider could do was appear twenty feet above. He held the skull tight and bampfed.
He appeared in mid-air, Sam hovering anxiously nearby, and plummeted toward the ground.
Mak ripped the kitchen door open to reveal a spiral staircase descending fifty feet to the ground.
Something flashed in his vision and he shot his gaze over the parapet to see Spider suddenly appear in mid-air clutching what looked like a baby to his chest, before falling to the ground and landing in a perfect three point stance, bracing with one and protecting the bundle with the other.
Mak grinned. The skull was out!
Flashback!
Mak approached Mahadi after the mission briefing. “I need two things. First - once we arrive, my bike needs to be parked in a precise spot, ready to go."
“We can arrange that, of course,” Mahadi said, as Mak showed him the spot on the map. “And the second request?"
“This one is trickier - who caters the Ball?"
“There is only one choice - or only one quality choice,” Mahadi smiled, “And that is Devil’s Food Cakes."
“I need to talk to them before the party."
Mahadi arranged for Fhet’Ahla, at From Here to Avernus, to place call through to the catering company, promising to pay any bills Mak might rack up. Fhet placed a collect call - promising the connection was fully encrypted end-to-end - and Mak sat next to the Imp typist to place his special order.
“You do realise this is…Hell?” the Imp paused after Mak explained what he wanted.
“Yes."
“And you’ve noticed it is quite…hot here?"
“Yes."
“This won’t be cheap."
“No."
The imp shrugged and sent the message.
Mak scanned the benchtop and found what he was after. A small box sat on the counter, reeking of magic. He reached for it, savouring the cold surface for a moment, popped it open, grabbed his ice cream, and slid down the bannister to his waiting motorcycle.
Spider landed, paused, looked up: and there was Mak sitting on his bike (“That hadn’t been there a moment ago had it?” Sam asked with surprise) sucking on what looked like a frozen drink on a stick (“Frozen?!” Sam muttered incredulously.) Spider shrugged and ran to the bike with a huge grin on his face.
Morad walked out into the Ballroom, noted Bili’s rumble, and reappeared when no-one was looking. He found Mahadi watching proceedings idly.
“Hello Mahadi,” Morad nodded casually.
“Ah, my friend, how are you? I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Ah, well, I enjoying party.”
“It is quite a party. I don’t know if you’ve noticed everything that’s happened?”
“No, no, I was talking to someone, I miss everything,” Morad said innocently.
“Ohhh, well there’s this highly entertaining orgy going on just now, there’s been an angel slaughtered-”
“An angel slaughtered? Not a real angel?”
“Yes definitely real. It was quite something! Everyone went crazy about it. Now we have this,” he said pointing to Bili, “and Zariel came - did you see that?”
“No,” Morad said sadly.
“Incredible! I don’t usually enjoy these soirees but this one has been quite something,” Mahadi grinned. “What next I wonder?”
Morad kept his poker face perfectly still. “I wonder too. Um - when you go, can you let me know and I go with you, get a lift?”
Mahadi understood. “You know what, I might leave now. I’ve had more than my fill. You come right along with me.”
“Thank you!”
Mahadi bowed and the two best dressed gentlemen at the Ball exited in high spirits.
Torgrun watched the two turban-topped guests walk toward the exit and smiled. ‘Like clockwork,’ he thought to himself and Pingle pushed past.
He wandered down to cheer on Bili briefly, looked around the Ballroom with satisfaction, and made his own way out through the flaming portal.
Madam Portencia was left alone in the skull room. The last remaining loose end was the shattered body of Thalamra Vanthampur sprawled on the floor.
“Fuck it,” she said, leaning down to pick up the dead Duke and hefting the body over her shoulder. She quickly opened another dimension door through the citadel walls, stepped through into mid-air, dropped the body, cast feather-fall on herself, popped her umbrella and floated gently down.
Mak flinched as Vanthampur’s body thudded into the ground in front of the bike. He looked up to see Madam Portencia gently descending. He waited for her (gracious) landing, fired up the engine, crushed Vanthampur and roared off to the front of the citadel.
Bili was buried under Uz and Lexi who were going hard at it, biting, pinching, and punching. Bili sunk his bear teeth into Uz for good measure, drawing a howl of pain - or was it pleasure? Hard to tell sometimes, he mused, knowing the feeling of walking that fine line.
From the corner of his eye he watched Mahadi and Morad leave, and Torgrun shortly after. As much as he was enjoying himself, he realised it was time to leave. He shape-shifted back into his very handsome self. “Sorry, got to go!” he whispered to Lexi, who grabbed hold of Bili one last time and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. He returned the favour, winked, and sunk without a trace into the stone floor.
Torgrun waited on the Holy Terror II. Mak, Spider, and Madam Portencia appeared right on cue. Spider hopped off the bike and hustled over to Torgrun. “We need to stash this somewhere,” he whispered urgently, indicating the skull which was still wrapped in his cloak. “I don’t know how long it will stay this small.”
Torgrun nodded. He’d come prepared.
Flashback!
It took some negotiation, but Torgrun eventually conveyed what he needed to the Salamanders at the Forge. They constructed the modification and installed it on the Holy Terror II to Torgrun’s specifications.
Torgrun inspected the work and congratulated the Salamanders on a job well done. He walked over to Bili. “I’ll wait an hour."
Bili nodded.
Spider watched with admiration as Torgrun slid open the newly installed secret chamber in the body of the vehicle. Lulu fluttered forth, shaking her head and sneezing as she emerged. “Sorry about that Lulu, but better safe than sorry,” Torgrun smiled. He took the bundle off Spider and slid it into the waiting receptacle. When the door was closed it was effectively invisible. Spider slapped Torgrun on the shoulder and settled into his seat for a quick nap.
An hour later, almost to the minute, Torgrun started the engine, waking Spider who was instantly alert. Torgrun glanced over to the citadel just as Bili emerged, framed by the flaming portal and still glowing with post-coital vigour. He was very handsome, Torgrun had to admit.
Bili casually walked over to the Holy Terror II, climbed aboard, and Torgrun headed back to the Wandering Emporium.
Job done.
Morad glanced at Mahadi who was seemingly dozing quietly the vehicle wound its way home. He cleared his throat and Mahadi’s eyes were instantly open and alert.
“Mahdi, what I don’t understand is - when Zariel come in, everyone else they had to get on the floor. You didn’t. How come you special?”
“Very observant of you my good friend,” Mahadi smiled. “Let us say that Zariel and I…answer to the same master.”
Morad’s eyes widened at this. Mahadi was a peer of Zariel?! “And who is that, I do not know?”
“You do not know?”
“Demon? Devil? Who is the master?”
“Best not to talk about him too much, let’s put it that way. Perhaps your friends would know him. He is the rule of the Nine Hells.”
“Ah. I think I know that, but I will not say name.”
“So Zariel and I, she comes to me, I go to her. But we do not kowtow to each other - there is a mutual respect.”
“Wow. So how come she crazy looking and you look normal?”
“Oh well we have different jobs. Her job is to rule Avernus, my job is to keep Avernus running smoothly,” Mahadi grinned. “People come to me when they need things - Zariel comes to me. And I to her when I need order restored.”
“You seem to have better job,” Morad smiled.
Mahadi laughed. “There is something to be said for the power she wields, but it is not for me.”
“How long you been here?”
“Oh, centuries.”
“Did you, like those other people, wanted to come here?”
“I’ve stayed this long so I guess I must enjoy it. There is an endless cavalcade of visitors - you and your friends are just the latest. Your friend came here seeking someone - unusual. You’d think there are only so many stories but this kind of thing happens all the time. Take Bannor No-Eyes - I try to break him, but I cannot. I’ve tried and tried but he will not break, nor even bend. But one day I will.”
Morad felt a tingling in the back of his skull. “I don’t know, he interesting fellow. He look scary to me. I wouldn’t want to be that guy.”
“Very! That’s what’s fascinating about it. All sorts come down here. One day maybe I’ll get bored and leave. But for now I’m quite satisfied.”
“I see. Well we won’t be here long - we have your-”
“Ah!” Mahadi interrupted, “Let us not discuss such matters here - you never know who is eavesdropping. Safe once we are back at the Emporium,” Mahadi smiled.
“I see. And - where were you born?” Morad asked.
“Far, far away.”
“Look if you don’t want to talk…”
“Oh I’m perfectly happy talking.”
“You never answer though?”
Mahadi smiled. “Some things are best not shared. Perhaps one day we can talk more.”
“Well as I say, I hope not to be here long.”
“That’s what I said when I first arrived,” Mahadi laughed, slapping Morad on the shoulder.
“I think some others in my group, they might end up working for you.”
“Yes - the winged one is interesting. And the little one.”
“He might end up like Bannor,” Morad deadpanned.
“Actually and both of the big ones. And Madam - all of you! Very interesting.”
“Very. But I think most of them, they like go home.”
“Smart people here can go a long way. You never know - that can get to some people’s heads, so some people’s hearts.”
“But you have to live down here,” Morad said distastefully
“No! Look at me, I come and go. There are ways and means.”
Morad was again suprised. “So you return to Faerun, do business there?”
“There and other planes, wherever takes my fancy.”
“And that is why you have so much goods?”
“Exactly. Plus everyone comes here to trade - take you for example. Everyone wants something, and I try and procure it for them. And thus Avernus and the Nine Hells continues to function as the efficient place that it is,” Mahadi laughed.
“Do you think it was good that where we come from fell into Avernus? That must be a bit unusual?”
“It’s happened before. The Blood War needs fuel after all. The last time was a century ago.”
“You seem very interesting Mahadi,” Morad said, “But you seem a little bit sad to me.”
“Ah. I would have said the same thing about you. Perhaps we have more in common than you think,” Mahadi winked. “This time when you come to the Infernal Rapture - eat, on me, no contract, no price.”
“I did eat, last time.”
“No, I mean the full menu.”
“I don’t know, I get a little scared. I read stories, my father read me stories. You know those stories, you eat when you are in story places - like this - you eat, it not so good for you.”
“Do not fear, I will not harm you. You will have your own story to tell, I know this to be true,” Mahadi said reassuringly, before leaning back and closing his eyes again.
Morad studied the finely dressed trader and wondered who he really was.
Four hours after the heist everyone had arrived back.
Madam Portencia climbed wearily down, the adrenalin well and truly worn off. She was conscious the time was ticking on the fake skull. “We really don’t want to be here in the Emporium when the ruse is discovered. We want to be lost in the wilderness where no-one can find us.”
“This needs to be done quickly - within a few hours - and then we need to be on our way,” Mak agreed.
“And we need to conclude Madam Portencia’s business quickly before Mahadi has some chance to find a loophole to back out of the deal,” Spider warned.
The skull was moved out of its secure hide and Mak draped his shimmering cape over it. He hauled it up on his shoulder and walked to the Infernal Rapture.
Within a few seconds of entering Mahadi appeared, looking as fresh and alert as ever. “My friends, my friends, my friends! I said I hoped to see you again and here you are! I had an enlightening discussion with my friend Morad on our journey home - now my very good friend I should say,” Mahadi beamed.
Madam Portencia turned to Morad and gave him a pointed stare. Spider raised his eyebrow. Could it be that Morad, of all people, had somehow been turned by Mahadi? Madam Portencia reserved her judgement - she was all too familiar with the smooth-talking carny way - knowing Mahadi was playing more than one game with every word he spoke.
“Come, come, let us retreat to somewhere more comfortable - and let you put down that load.” Mahadi opened a door in the long corrider that led into a very comfortably furnished room, replete with refreshments, bowls of fruit, and platters of vegetable and succulent meats.
Mak thunked the still-covered skull down on the table at the centre of the room. Mahadi’s eyes shone as he stepped forward and rested his hand on the silk covering. “May I?”
“Mahadi. Perhaps it’s best if Madam Electra is here at the same time,” Spider said, glancing at Madam Portencia who was very still.
“We have an exchange to make,” Madam Portencia said quietly.
“Ah! Of course, let me have the wonderful Madam summonsed,” Mahadi clicked his fingers. “Although - do I know this is what you purport it to be?” he teased.
“Yes you do,” Madam Portencia said flatly, in no mood for his games.
Morad was confused, and suprised. He knew this mission had been to help Madam Portencia, but who was Madam Electra? Had Mahadi, who seemed so genial, been holding a hostage of some sort?
Mahadi settled back into a chaise-lounge. “It will be but a few moments, but before Madam Electra arrives, you must tell me something: how did you arrange to get Zariel to the party?! A masterstroke the likes of which I have rarely encontered. I know that magicians never reveal their tricks, but how did you do it?!”
Mak laughed heartily as Madam Portencia answered. “As you say, a magician never reveals her tricks.”
“Ah! I knew you would say that - and in some ways I’m pleased you won’t tell me. But - incredible. No-one will blame me, after Zariel has been there - nor you!”
“It all went according to plan,” Spider deadpanned, to more guffaws from Mak. Spider grinned, sipped on his drink and lit his rather substantial cigar. People started tucking into the provided fare, the drinks being particularly well received.
Torgrun was disturbed to note Morad partaking, having refused so firmly on the first visit to the Infernal Rapture. Morad has shared a long ride with an arch-demon of some description, and Togrun wondered if this was an indication that Morad was changing. And not for the better. ‘Oh Torm, see how the mighty have fallen,’ he prayed.
Morad, unaware, noticed Madam Portencia seemed almost frozen, not eating, not drinking. A trickle of sweat ran down her brow from her new wig.
Mahadi continued his small-talk as Madam Portencia’s tension mounted. “And the angel being slaughtered! Brilliant. I assume that was you, Torgrun? I am a little surprised that you would do that.”
Torgrun held Mahadi’s look. “It is something that is available to us in order to meet our desired ends.”
“Oh I know all about means and ends,” Mahadi grinned.
Minutes later the door swung open, and Morad was shocked to see a carbon-copy of Madam Portencia standing in the doorway. An masculine looking older woman with a face lined with wisdom, white hair tied in a bun, but with dull eyes rather than Madam Portencia’s sparkle.
The woman scanned the room and found Madam Portencia. “Albertus?”
Madam Portencia kept her eyes locked on Mahadi, watching his face for any sign of deception or duplicity. His eyes flicked between the two Madam’s, hungry for the unfolding drama. Madam Portencia could detect nothing more, but she felt intensely uncomfortable.
Mahadi noticed Madam Portencia’s attention and turned to her. “Here she is, as promised.”
“Is she free?”
“Not yet,” Mahadi said, glancing at the table.
“That’s fine,” Spider jumped in. “Once we give Mahadi his goods he’ll be destroying the contract in front of us, won’t you Mahadi?”
“I will.”
Morad was starting to panic. What was happening?!
Madam Portencia walked over to Madam Electra and looked her in the eyes. It was no zombie, no mere shell, but her eyes were still clouded like they had been the evening before. The artificial happiness lay like a veil over her face. Madam Electra turned her head to Mahadi, who tilted his head, then nodded.
Madam Electra spun her head back to Madam Portencia who instantly saw the change: she was there. The sudden fire in those eyes jolted Madam Portencia back to half a century ago, when last she had seen her beloved mentor. Emotion flooded her every sense: joy, excitement, confusion, fear. Madam Electra grabbed her protégé in a wordless hug, sobs wracking her fragile frame.
“Right then,” Spider said. “We can probably take a peek now.”
“Take your fucking cup,” Madam Portencia growled.
Mahadi walked to the table and whisked the covering from the skull. “By the gods you did it,” he gasped. “I had not thought it possible, and here it is!”
“As promised.”
“And what’s more, Zariel is interested in it too. Better than I could possibly have hoped - I just wanted it as a trinket, but now it is a valuable piece in the eternal game.”
“Well maybe we can regard that as future good-will between…friend,” Spider said.
“Perhaps! I must say I am impressed,” Mahadi said as he continued to run his hands over the angel’s skull.
“If not indebted,” Torgrun tried.
“Oh, no, not indebted,” Mahadi grinned, turning to the Madams. “Madam Electra, your debt is paid. You are now free - thanks to your wonderful friends. And Madam Portencia, there is something you should know. She has been here now for nigh on…fifty years, would that be about right?”
Madam Portencia glared. Here it was, she knew there had to be a turn to this ruse. “Yes,” she whispered.
“She has fifty days to live.”
Madam Portencia froze.
“One day per year she has been here, once she returns to her own plane. I am sorry I cannot do anything about that. She is human, after all, and her life artificially extended whilst she sojourned here. So: fifty days. My apologies, perhaps I should have told you that earlier,” he said earnestly.
Madam Portencia was stunned. She felt her bile rising, and a madness take hold. She would kill this ‘man’ where he stood. Right now. She started to raise her hands when she felt Madam Electra grab them and spin her.
“I do not care, Albert. Fifty days is better than fiffy life-times here. You have saved me,” Madam Electra commanded.
Madam Portencia chose not to open her mouth, on the grounds that anything she might say would kill her. Madam Electra put a hand to Madam Portencia’s cheek. “Albert - I’m back. It’s me. You have found me. I never dared hope. Fifty days is enough.”
Madam Portencia turned on Mahadi. “Fifty days is meaningless while she is down here.”
“I will send her back - part of the deal, no cost.”
“You will send her back?” Madam Portencia said slowly.
“Unless you wish her to stay here. She wouldn’t last long, I fear. Unless you wish to take her with you?”
“No. I would like a moment, an evening, to speak to her.”
“By all means,” Mahadi said charmingly. “When you give the word, I will send her home, but not before. And it will be home, this is no trick. I see the deep bond between you and honour that.”
Madam Portencia cursed under her breath, barely able to restrain her fury and horror and hatred and sorrow. “That word will be hers, not mine.”
“Understood. I will send her home, perhaps you too will get back in time.”
Madam Portencia let out gutteral growl.
Spider was furious seeing his friend tricked in this way. “Is that verbal dissolution enough, or should we demand something physical?”
“He’s slightly above my pay grade”
“So you don’t know?”
“I would trust him, because there’s not many other choices are there?”
“So you don’t think it’s worth pushing - seeing a piece of paper get burnt or somethin'?”
“You can challenge him if you want, I wouldn’t recommend it”
“Fine.”
Mahadi turned to the group. “As I promised before this adventure got underway, you are now my guests of honour, for as long as you wish. No payments, no contracts. Stay as long as you wish, and partake of what you wish. I am not a man often astonished, but in this case I am,” he said, picking up the skull as if it was nothing. “Take what you need, call me when you are ready. And Madam, Madam - a room for you to retire to,” he smiled, conjuring another door and private chamber beyond, before withdrawing with a bow.
“I was talking to Mahadi,” Morad said as he ate, ignoring the suspicious looks this engendered. “He go back and forth all the time to Faerun, to a lot of places-”
“Morad,” Madam Portencia interrupted. “That guy is a rolled-gold motherfucker. If we are one day powerful enough to take down that other bitch, then we will be powerful enough to take him down.”
Morad chose to not here Madam Portencia’s deadly serious tone. “I ask him about that, he say he and her equal. Both work for the guy who runs things. I was shocked. I did not know that. I thought he just businessman.”
Everyone was surprised at this. “Well it was obvious he had nothing to fear from her,” Madam Portencia said.
“Well that explains a lot,” Spider mused.
“Don’t put any trust in him, Morad,” Madam Portencia warned again.
“Not as far as you can spit,” Spider added.
“No, but I know from stories, he can’t say that we safe and to eat, and then hurt me. That’s how they work, stories. I know, I feel.”
Torgrun looked at Morad with ever heightening concern. Morad had drunk down every word Mahadi has spooned him without question.
“Are you familiar with the carny-code, Morad?” Madam Portencia asked. “The main premise is: make promises, break them. Now this is just people who run a circus. We are in Hell.”
“But you carny?” Morad said weakly.
“Yes. I cut a man to pieces and pushed him into the sewer. Not for the first time. Don’t trust him.”
Morad stared at Madam Portencia, deeply chagrined. He had set his beacon on her direction, trusting her knowledge and leadership, and he didn’t want to change that now, reeling from her venom. He set his food down, vowing not to take another bite. “Ok, Madam.”
As Morad sat, Torgrun picked up a plate and started to eat. “She’s right, we can’t trust him,” Torgrun said as he gnawed on a bone. Morad was confounded.
Bili feasted too, but found he had to relieve himself increasingly frequently, less able to hold liquid now his belly was filling out. His cramps were stronger, and back ached with the increased weight he was carrying. He let himself enjoy the experience, focussing in on the physicality of what was happening to his body. He often changed to a bear form now, finding the change relieved some of the more intense pain.
Alone, Madam Portencia turned to her old mentor. Her mind raced with all she wanted to say, to ask. But one question above all rose to the front, despite the fear she felt asking it.
“Was the price you paid worth it?”
Madam Electra put her hand on her heart and looked directly at her long-lost student. “Oh Albert. Of course it was. You were worth it.”
Madam Portencia paled.
“Never doubt that. I would have paid anything.”
Madam Portencia felt ill. She took a few deep breaths. “I will endeavour to live up to what you expect of me.”
“You already have, Albertus. Please never question anything you have done. To come here to find me is the greatest gift you could have given. You could never let me down.”
“I have done questionable things.”
“You are part of the carny - it is expected of us.”
Madam Portencia stared at the floor, made a decision, and looked up at Madam Electra. “You’re a bit of a mess,” she smiled. “I think you should take this when you go.” She peeled off the new wig Spider had given and handed it to Madam Electra.
Madam Electra smiled warmly. “It is magnificent. I have never had one like it. Are you sure?”
“I am sure.”
“Thank you my dear.”
Some time later, Madam Portencia emerged and introduced Madam Electra to her companions. “Electra. This is the Council of the Righteous I have come across. Saint Mak, the unswaying. Saint Spider, the perspicacious. Saint Torgrun, the redeemer. Saint Bili, son of the forest, daughter of the wind. And Saint Morad, the blessed.”
Morad bowed deeply. Madam Electra curtsied in turn as each was introduced. “Thank you for befriending Albertus. And thank you for accompanying him and rescuing me. If you do manage to succeed in your Council, I have fifty days, and it would be an honour to spend them with you.”
“That is my dearest hope,” Madam Portencia whispered.
“May you travel in Torm’s shadow for the rest of your days,” Torgrun intoned solemnly.
“Shadow…? Or light, perhaps?” Madam Electra’s eyes twinkled. Morad shook his head - what had happened to Torgrun.
“Whereever you go, do not go back to Elturel,” Madam Portencia said, holding Madam Electra’s hands.
“I shall not. I will find my caravan. And please find me, again, but do not feel that you have to.”
“I will endeavour to do so. I will ask at Candlekeep where I might find you.”
“Very good - I will seek my rest there.” Madam Electra cupped Madam Portencia face in her hands. “Albert. Thank you.” She turned to Mahadi and nodded.
Madam Portencia looked longingly one last time at her mentor, and Madam Electra slowly shimmered out of Avernus.
Qirozz’s Ballroom Map, courtesy of Dyson’s Dodecahedron
Session heavily inspired by the excellent Adventurer’s League module The Breath of Life by Jared Fegan (DDAL 09-12).
Session played: 1, 14, 21 Sept 2021