Pariah's Descent Into Avernus

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/26407243.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: Gen
Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Descent Into Avernus -
Fandom, Forgotten Realms
Character: Original Characters, Ulder Ravengard, Sylvira, Falaster, Little One -
Character, Lulu (Dungeons & Dragons), Levistus (Dungeons &
Dragons), Mad Maggie (Dungeons & Dragons), Mahadi - Character,
Mordenkainen (Dungeons & Dragons)
Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Warlock
Pacts, Angst, Mental Disintegration, Developing Friendships, Deal with
a Devil, Past Child Abuse, Female Friendship, Body Horror
Stats: Published: 2020-09-11 Updated: 2022-06-03 Chapters: 77/? Words:
312407

Pariah's Descent Into Avernus

by CyrusJ

Summary

In the grim and shadowy streets of Baldur's Gate, four strangers come together to seek
vengeance on a predatory priest. Little do they realize that this act will trigger a series of
events that will take them into the Nine Hells, where they must navigate the front lines of
the Blood War and the cruel machinations of the archdevils in an effort to save thousands of
souls, including their own.

This fic is based on the D&D 5e adventure, "Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus". There
will, of course, be lots of spoilers about the module. It also mixes in "The Alexandrian
Remix", "Avernus as a Sandbox", and several third-party encounters from DMsGuild.

Even if you aren't familiar with D&D, this fic should be approachable as a general fantasy
story.

POSTING SCHEDULE: Every Friday morning.

 A Chance Meeting
Chapter Summary

If you are new to this fic, welcome! This story is written fandom blind, so you should
be able to enjoy it even if you aren't familiar with Dungeons & Dragons.

I recommend you commit to reading at least until the end of Chapter 3. By that time
you should have a good idea of the characters and my writing style. If you don't read
past that point, no harm done. We all like different things, and I appreciate you giving
this story a try.

REGARDING TAGS: Tags are subject to change when new things come up as I write.
Also, I don't tag one-time things, though I will put a content warning at the beginning
of the chapter for potentially disturbing content.

Chapter Notes

CW: Indirect reference to sexual assault. It's not going to be a major plot point going
forward, but there will be a few scenes in later chapters that allow the characters to
deal with their emotions.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The door to the priest's chamber flew open and a woman stormed out. She walked quickly through
the temple of Tymora, her head turned to the side, trying to hide the tears. She stepped out into the
bright daylight. Her pale skin was red with shame and as she looked around she felt like everyone
was staring at her. Of course, perhaps they were. She wasn't a common sight. At a glance she
seemed human, though a very pale one, but it didn't take a sharp eye to see the four-foot tail that
lashed about angrily. Nor was it hard to miss the two horns that jutted out from her forehead,
curving back over her short, dark blue Mohawk. One of the horns bore a deep but old gash at the
base that went nearly halfway through. A closer look at her face would reveal that her eyes were
solid black orbs with no visible sclera or iris, and her canines were a bit longer and more pointed
than human. A few might even know her kind were called tieflings.

Head down, she continued to walk quickly, looking for a place to get out of sight. She was clad
from neck to toe in ragged clothes, leaving not an inch of skin bare below her neck. The rapier at
her side was noticeably better quality than her clothing. She didn't even have it in a sheath. It was
just jammed loosely in her belt, swinging about clumsily.

She ducked into an alley and was relieved to see it was empty. She settled back against the wall,
and the tears flowed a bit more freely now. "I can't do it," she said softly as she sunk to the ground.

In her head a voice said simply, "We have an agreement." She shivered. It was one thing to call a
voice cold, but this one was quite literally cold, and she felt ice in her veins when he spoke.

"I know," she said sharply, then looked around to see if anyone had heard. More quietly she said,
"But I can't. I'm not strong enough. You saw...what happened."

"We have an agreement," he repeated. There was no anger, just a simple statement.

"Fine," she hissed angrily. "Then take back the power. I don't care."

"The power was not our deal," he reminded her. "You asked for protection. I gave it. If you back
out, they will pay the consequences."

Her stomach dropped. She hadn't considered that. "But I can't. What do you expect me to do?"

"Live up to our bargain."

"Asshole," she said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, he is," came a woman's voice. The tiefling started and turned, seeing a human woman
silhouetted in the alleyway entrance. The woman came closer and the tiefling could see her
features: dusky skin, green eyes and long, wheat blonde hair. She wore the vestments of one of the
acolytes from the temple, one sleeve hanging slack because her left arm ended above the elbow.

"Leave me alone," the tiefling growled at her, turning away.

The woman sat down on the dirty ground next to her. The tiefling ground her teeth but before she
could speak, the human woman said, "I've seen many women leave his office with that look of
confusion and shame." She paused. "I myself have borne the same expression more than once."

The tiefling turned the study the woman. The acolyte wasn't looking at her, instead staring blankly
at the wall in front of her. Needing a target for her anger, the tiefling snarled, "And your bitch
goddess just lets it happen?"

The acolyte's demeanor changed. She turned to the tiefling, her green eyes flashing. "Watch your
tone! Do not blame the Lady for his actions. The gods rarely dally directly in the affairs of mortals.
We must solve our own problems, helped by the grace of the gods." The two women glared at each
other, and the acolyte finally took a breath and calmed herself. "Unfortunately, he is not a problem
that is easy to solve." She turned away again. "He has great political power. The few women who
have lodged complaints have disappeared. The rest of us simply endure."

The tiefling wanted to say it was unfair, but she had grown up in the Outer City. Fair was
something that happened to rich people. The filth like her counted themselves blessed for each day
they didn't starve.

The women sat silently for a bit and then the acolyte said, "You are called Mouse, right? Leader of
the Forgotten?"

The tiefling studied her for a moment. The woman didn't seem familiar. "You know me?"

The human shook her head. "Not directly, but I've heard of you. I often minister in the Outer City,
though not usually at the Twin Songs shrine. You and your crew have quite a good reputation.
Plus," she added lightly, "you do stand out in a crowd."

She obviously meant no offense by the remark. "I suppose so," said the tiefling, but her gloom
deepened as she thought about that name. Nobody had called her anything at all for days and now,
well, that name didn't fit. It was the name of a past life. "But I'm not a member of that crew
anymore," she said gravely, "and I don't use that name."
"Oh? What do you call yourself?"

She went blank. She had been struggling with recent events. It wasn't until this moment that she
had considered abandoning her name, and she wasn't sure she could come up with a new one on
the spur of the moment. And then she suddenly knew what to call herself. It was a word she heard
in a sermon long ago. She had liked the sound of it, the feel of it. It had resonated with her at the
time, and now it fit her more than ever. "Pariah," she said.

The acolyte's friendly smile faded. "What a sad name to choose for yourself. Especially..." She
trailed off and reached across herself with her good arm to pat Pariah's hand. "Well, my name is
Rowan."

Pariah was getting impatient. "OK, fine, we know each other's names. What do you want?" It came
out sharper than she had intended, but she wasn't in the mood for conversation.

Rowan's brow furrowed. "I don't know," she admitted. "I had thought to offer you some words of
comfort but now I realize how empty that would be. I guess...I guess I don't know why I came after
you."

She didn't get up to leave, and Pariah realized she didn't mind her being there. She reminded
herself that her anger was not directed at the woman sitting in the dirt next to her. They went back
to staring at the facing wall for a bit, until Pariah said, "How can you stay in that temple?"

Rowan sighed heavily. "I have meditated and prayed on that very question. It's not a dilemma I can
discuss with the other priests. I could transfer to another temple but my life is here, my roots. And,"
her tone hardened," I haven't done anything wrong. I shouldn't be the one who has to leave."

Pariah was silent for a bit, gathering her thoughts. She didn't want to repeat her earlier thoughtless
comment. "I have to ask: why does Tymora allow this to happen in her own temple?"

The acolyte pursed her lips and it was several seconds before she answered. "One of the Lady's
tenets is, 'Fortune favors the bold.' She expects her worshipers to take action and trust in her to
bless them with good luck." She shook her head, "But I don't know what I can do about this, even
with the Lady's fortune on my side."

Pariah wrestled with her next comment, but her own pain won out. Trying to keep her voice level,
she said, "The solution is obvious. We have to kill him."

She expected Rowan to be angry or at least surprised, but instead the woman nodded gloomily. "I
have considered that. Perhaps that is exactly the action the Lady expects someone to take. But he is
not just politically influential. For some reason, she blesses him with her divine power. He would
be a difficult opponent."

"I know," Pariah said bitterly. Rowan gave her a questioning look. The tiefling paused, unsure if
this was the time to be honest, but pushed forward. "I wasn't in his chambers to have a chat with
him," she said simply.

Rowan took a moment to process this new information. "Oh," she said in a small voice, glancing
down at the rapier the tiefling bore. "I had no idea. I didn't hear any struggle."

Pariah felt her emotions welling up again. She tried to keep her voice strong. "There was no
struggle. I tried to draw my sword, but I'm not used to it. It didn't clear my belt. He waved his hand
and I couldn't move. And then..." Her throat closed and she couldn't speak.

The other woman nodded sadly. "Yes, I know the 'and then' part."
The tiefling took a moment to compose herself. "When he was done, he slipped the sword back in
my belt, blessed me with a friendly smile, and than asked me to leave. I felt the spell release and I
just...left. Like a coward."

Rowan again reached over with her good arm and squeezed Pariah's hand. "No, not like a coward.
If you had stayed, he might have killed you or had you arrested. Or even satisfied himself again,
though I doubt the old lecher can get it up twice."

Pariah laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I guess not," she said as her eyes grew wet. "Lucky me."

They were silent for a while. Pariah kept thinking of the people she needed to protect, and the task
she had to do. "Maybe the two of us together could manage it," she said.

Rowan's brow furrowed as she mulled it over. "No," she said, and Pariah's heart sank. "I don't think
we are strong enough. We will need more."

Pariah's heart stopped sinking and froze. "More?" she asked hesitantly.

Rowan nodded with determination. "Yes. More. People who can fight. I know or suspect of dozens
of his victims. I would think I could raise an army. Together, we can bring him down."

"Dozens?" Pariah said in horror. "Gods. "

"I'll ask around. It will take time. I'll have to be careful. I can't just openly advertise for a murder."

Pariah had to ask. "And you're okay with this? Striking at one of your own?"

"Yes," she said emphatically. "I believe this must be Tymora's will. I actually wasn't supposed to
be in the temple today, but one of the other acolytes got sick and I took his place. What blessed
fortune it was for me to be there, for me to follow you out here, and for us to have this
conversation." A light burned in her eyes. "Tymora favors the bold, and we will be bold. We will
root out this disease and cleanse her temple of it. This must be what she wants." She mumbled, "It
must be."

The tiefling was a bit put off by her fervor but asked, "When do you think we can do this?"

Rowan thought for a moment. "It might take me two or three weeks to make careful inquiries."

That wasn't going to work. Pariah said, "How long do I have left?"

"What?" Rowan asked, but she wasn't who the tiefling was talking to.

"Nine days," said the icy voice in her head.

"Talona's tits," she mumbled. To Rowan she said, "We have to do this within nine days."

"Why?"

Pariah sputtered a bit. "It's complicated. But he has to be dead within nine days."

Rowan furrowed her brows but said, "All right. Hmm, nine days. I'll see how many inquiries I can
make in that time. Did you say you don't run with the Forgotten anymore? What crew are you
with?"

Pariah felt herself blushing. "No crew right now. I'm kind of at loose ends."
 The acolyte looked like she wanted to ask more but decided against it. "How can I reach you?"

That stymied the tiefling for a bit. She couldn't keep coming back to the temple; the gate tolls
would wipe her out. "How about just outside the Basilisk Gate? I could wait there around sunset
every day and look for you."

Rowan nodded. "Yes," she said slowly. "I guess that would work. I'll let you know when I've found
others and when we can meet to talk about the plan." She stood and Pariah followed suit. Rowan
looked her over and reached down to her belt. She handed over a pouch of coins.

Pariah stepped back. "I don't need your charity," she said.

Rowan didn't withdraw the pouch. "Go to Danthelon's. Buy yourself some armor. And a scabbard
for that," she nodded at the rapier. "And anything else you think you might need." Pariah didn't
move. "You can pay me back if you like," Rowan said impatiently. "This is not going to be an easy
fight. We need every advantage."

The tiefling grudgingly had to admit she was right and reached out for the money. She opened the
pouch and saw not a small amount of gold. "What makes you think I won't just take this and run?"

Rowan shrugged. "I told you. I know your reputation. The worst thing you'd do would be spend it
on food for your crew. Or some other crew." She added sternly, "But don't do that. Seriously, if
you die in the fight you can't help anyone."

Pariah nodded. "All right." She started secreting the coins in various spots in her clothing. Only a
fool carried a bulging pouch of money into the Outer City. "Then I'll see you at the Basilisk Gate."

Chapter End Notes

I don't want to say too much at this point. I'll talk about the characters once we've met
them in the next chapter. I'm posting two chapters today to give a good start, and from
now on I'll post a new chapter each week. As of this post, I'm working on Chapter 15
so I have a good buffer to maintain a posting schedule even if Real Life happens.

This is sort of a playthrough fic. Since I'm acting as both DM and players it's hard for
me to act like I don't know what's coming. I play out combats on Roll20, and am fair-
ish about it. I roll skill checks...except when I don't. In the end, I choose story over fair
play. That works both for and against the characters. I'm always willing to fudge a roll,
or just ignore something entirely if I don't like it.

In addition to the core 5e books, I've used a ton of other resources while writing this
story. I'll try to remember to come back and list them here as I find new ones.

Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide

Encounters In Avernus
Roll20
Forgotten Realms Wiki
NPC Generator
Life Story Generator
Random Town Generator
Elven Name Generator
Fantasy Name Generators
Pathfinder Name Generator [for Calishite names]
Random Book Generator
Descent Into Avernus: The Alexandrian Remix
Avernus as a Sandbox

My Homebrew Rules used in this story

 A Brutal Murder
Chapter Summary

Pariah and Rowan, both of whom suffered at the hands of a predatory priest, are
scheming to seek retribution on him with the help of his other victims.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Eight days later, Pariah made her way through the streets of Heapside in the Inner City, following
the instructions Rowan had given her when they had met the previous day. She wasn't that familiar
with this area since she didn't get inside the walls much, but everyone knew about the Blushing
Mermaid. It was supposed to be the worst, most violent tavern on the Sword Coast. Pariah was
ready. She knew how to carry herself in a crowd like that, how not to seem like prey. The rapier at
her side, now in a new sheath, would help deflect attention as well. Finally, she had taken Rowan's
advice and over her ratty clothing she wore several pieces of leather: a cuirass, bracers, greaves and
boots. She hoped it was enough. She had tried a more complete set but it felt too bulky. Danthelon,
the owner of the shop, had assured her it just took some getting used to but she decided to go with
something that let her move. She also had a small axe on her other hip, a dagger at her back, and
another in her boot.

She had been practicing with the rapier. She knew she was still clumsy with it, after all she'd had it
less than a month, but she felt more sure than she had before. The point was sharp and that's what
mattered. She hoped she got the chance to bury it in his heart.

Rowan was waiting for her outside the tavern. She looked a bit nervous but smiled when she saw
Pariah. "Oh, good, you're here. We can begin. The other women are waiting inside." The acolyte
pulled her through the tavern entrance and into a wall of noise. The place was boisterous and loud.
There was a reception desk but what caught Pariah's eye was the large wooden mermaid hanging
over it, or more specifically the mummified hands nailed to it. Before she could wonder what the
story behind that was, Rowan led her into the back through a maze of narrow hallways and finally
to a door that led into a small room.

Two people sat at a table. One was a human with brown skin and short brown hair in a simple cut.
She sat rod straight, perched on the edge of the chair as though she was afraid to touch anything.
Her features and clothing were Calishite, and her expression was aloof and cold.

The other figure at the table was an elf, and from the copper skin obviously a wood elf. The
androgynous nature of elves often made it difficult to determine their genders, but Pariah got a
strong sense of femininity from the elf's dress and bearing. This, plus the fact that Rowan had
referred to "the other women", led Pariah to assume she was female. Her bright eyes were golden
and smiling, and her black hair was much longer than the first woman's, tied in an elaborate braid,
and she had a flower over one ear. She immediately gave Pariah a warm and welcoming smile.

"Now we're all here," Rowan said, motioning Pariah to one of the two empty chairs at the table.

The tiefling hesitated. "This is your army?" she said. She had been expecting six to eight people.
"Yes," Rowan said apologetically. "I had to be very careful who I spoke to, and had to approach the
subject delicately. Combined with the short time frame, I'm afraid this was all I could manage.
They are quite capable, however."

Pariah wondered about that. Neither of the new women wore armor, and the elf didn't even have a
weapon. In a higher class tavern, Pariah would have assumed she was a dancer. The standoffish
woman had a carved staff, so was probably a spellcaster. Rowan herself was wearing armor of
leather and chainmail but she had only a dagger on her belt. As an acolyte she would have some
divine magic, but Pariah wasn't sure it was the kind of combat magic they would need.

She started to say something, but then realized it didn't matter. It had to be tonight, one way or
another. If this was all the help there was then she just had to pray for Tymora to grant them good
fortune. A lot of good fortune. But she would have felt better if there had been just one obvious
soldier in the group.

"I'm Lythienne," said the elf. "I'm so pleased to meet you..." She trailed off expectantly.

"Pariah," said the tiefling. She looked over at the other woman.

"My name is Farima yr Sameen el Zahra yi Almraiven," she said in a matter-of-fact voice with a
distinct Calishite accent. She gave Pariah a look of disapproval though it wasn't clear if that was
actually directed at the tiefling, the tavern or the situation in general.

Rowan said, "I'm afraid we don't have much time. I need to get back to the temple before he leaves
for the evening. You know the first part of the plan already, but let me repeat it. I will use magic to
disguise myself as a beautiful young girl. I will go to the temple and ask the priest to walk me
home, saying I am afraid to walk alone at night. He won't want to miss such an opportunity. I will
lead him to an abandoned building -- Lythienne has found us a good place. You three will be
waiting inside. I will say I am afraid of the dark and ask him to come in while I light the lantern.
Pariah and Lythienne, you two can see in the dark, correct? You can attack as soon as he comes in.
Farima will create a light, and she and I will join the fight. With the four of us, he shouldn't have a
chance."

Lythienne asked, "What if he won't go with you? For that matter, what if he goes but decides he
doesn't want to wait until you get home? What if he just drags you into an alley?"

Rowan looked nervous. "We'll just have to hope that, by Tymora's grace, that won't happen. Look,
there's no way the four of us can all go. He'll spot one of you."

"I could follow," said the elf. "Stay out of sight."

"If he does attack, I don't think two of us will be enough. Plus, you all need to already be in the
building. Believe me, I'm not as happy about this plan as I'd like, but it's the best we can do."

The group exchanged looks, but it seemed nobody else had any better ideas.

"Then if there are no objections..." Rowan waited but nobody spoke. "Then one more thing." She
reached into her collar and pulled out an elaborate coin on a chain, the symbol of Tymora, Lady of
Luck. "Let us pray."

Pariah closed her eyes and folded her hands. It was pretty rare to find any Faithless in the Outer
City, and she had dropped a few coppers in various shrines in Twin Songs. She was willing to ask
for help from any of the gods, but she had always tended to gravitate to Tymora, which is why she
had been so horrified when the voice asked the price it did. Of course, that was the point, wasn't it?
The horror.

"Fortune favors the bold," Rowan said, her voice a little dull like she was reciting a rote prayer.
"We place ourselves in the hands of fate and humbly as you to bless our endeavor. Amen."

There was a mumbling of amens from the others, but then another voice spoke. It was Farima. "Tyr
the Just, we pray for your favor as well," she said, her tone ringing with more emotion than
Rowan's had. "Tonight, we do not seek death, we do not seek revenge; we seek justice. Justice that
the authorities will not give. This man has not just wronged us, he has broken his oath to his god,
and his obligations to his followers. Let us be your hammer, bringing your judgment to this
evildoer. Amen."

There was a pause in the group, but muttered amens after that.

"And anyone else out there listening," said Lythienne, "we'll be glad to take your help, too."

Pariah opened her eyes. Lythienne was grinning, a twinkle in her eye. "Be careful," the tiefling
warned her. "When you put out a general call for help like that, you never know what will answer."

The elf shrugged. "I'll take whatever I can get." Pariah just shook her head and didn't bother to
respond.

"Then let's get started," said Rowan. "You three get to the ambush site and lay in wait. I should be
along with him in short order."

Lythienne stood, and Pariah was a bit surprised at how tall she was. She was the tallest of the four
women, and a positive giant for an elf. She was slim and lithe, moving gracefully as she came
around the table. Once outside, she led the way through the streets of the Lower City while Pariah
and Farima followed behind, and Rowan headed off in another direction. Farima didn't seem to be
much of a talker and Pariah was lost in her own thoughts. She was dreading what was about to
happen. Her hands weren't clean, violence was not a stranger to her, but this was different. This was
deliberate murder. And it was more. She knew that she wouldn't be the same person after tonight.

She wondered about the others. They all seemed well off, not rich but comfortable. She didn't mind
that -- she never saw the point in hating people with money -- but she wondered what kind of
pampered lives they had led. Were they ready for this? Would they freeze in combat? Would they
hesitate to do what needed to be done?

"Are you from around here?" said Lythienne. It took Pariah a moment to realize the question was
directed at her.

"Baldur's Gate? Yeah. I grew up in the Outer City, mostly around Wyrm's Crossing." Then, to be
polite, she added, "You?"

"I came here several years ago. To seek my fortune, I guess. There are far more performance
venues her than in the forests I was living in."

"Performance venues?" Pariah asked in confusion.

"Yes, I'm a dancer and a storyteller."

Pariah and Farima exchanged glances behind the elf's head, though she didn't seem to notice.
"What about you, Farima?" Lythienne asked.

"I had a vision that led me to Baldur's Gate, though I know not why." She frowned. "I will be
pleased to put this distasteful incident behind me so I can get back to following my destiny."

"You aren't from Little Calimshan?" Pariah asked in surprise. She just assumed the woman came
from that Outer City enclave.

"No," she said. "I traveled here from Almraiven, though I have quarters in Little Calimshan while I
am in this city."

Pariah hadn't heard of Almraiven, and didn't know if it was a city, country or something else. "Are
you a spellcaster?" she asked, nodding at Farima's staff.

"Yes, though perhaps not the kind you are familiar with. I am able to control magical energies
naturally rather than through study and ritualized spells. I do not know why, however, and that is
one of the answers I seek here."

"And you?" Pariah asked Lythienne.

The elf looked confused. "Me what?"

"Are you a spellcaster? I don't see any weapons."

"No, no spells. And I don't use weapons. I am a student of the art of unarmed combat."

Pariah's brow furrowed. "You mean like a boxer?" The slender woman didn't look like any bare-
knuckle boxer she'd ever seen.

Lythienne laughed brightly. "No, not quite. But I can handle myself."

Pariah was skeptical. Farima might be useful, but it looked like the dancer would be nothing more
than a distraction. And the acolyte, well, she was hard to judge. Pariah was still unsure she'd be
willing to strike against a priest of her temple. If all she had was that dagger, then she might not be
much help either. This had the potential to be a disaster.

It didn't matter, she reminded herself. One way or another, that man had to die. Pariah would strike
at him with her last breath, and she could only hope that the others felt the same.

Lythienne led them through the city, and she had a story for every building they passed. Pariah had
no idea if it the stories were true, but had to admit the woman was entertaining. Eventually, they
arrived at their target, a dark and unassuming building with no markings.

The elf said, "This was the hideout for the Grey Lily Association, an up and coming gang in the
area." Sensing the others' hesitation, she emphasized, "Was the hideout. They got a little too
ambitious, drew the attention of the Blood Ravens, and that's not something you want to happen.
They weren't all wiped out, but enough of them got killed that the others scattered. This place has
been abandoned for at least three months now."

She opened the door and led them inside. Farima held out her staff and the tip lit up, illuminating
the room. The place definitely looked abandoned. Anything of value had been taken long ago,
leaving some furniture too rotted to be worth hauling out and a few piles of debris. The footing
would be tricky so they'd have to be careful, but that could work to their advantage.

"Where do you want to set up?" she asked Farima.

The Calishite was giving the area a critical eye. "There," she pointed. "The post will give me cover
from his magic."
"Not much," the tiefling warned. "Maybe crouch behind there instead?" she pointed to the remains
of a sofa that would provide better protection.

Farima shook her head. "I can heal with a touch so I need to be able to move to the rest of you
quickly. There is too much debris blocking my path there. Standing behind the post would give me
more freedom."

Pariah nodded. "All right, then I'll set up here," she pointed to one side of the door. "I have some
magic as well and I don't want us to get in a crossfire. Plus I'm close enough to use my blade."

"Then I'll wait on the other side," said Lythienne. "He comes in, I'll move first while it's still dark.
I'll shove him away from the door towards you," she nodded at Pariah, "so he can't escape, and you
can stab him with your sword."

"And then I will light my staff again," said Farima. "Rowan can back off and we can engage him
from range."

Pariah wished they had more of a plan, but they'd just have to make do. One way or another, that
priest was not walking out alive. "You probably better douse that light," she said.

Farima nodded and they were plunged back into darkness. They settled in to wait.

The longer they waited, the more nervous they all got. Well, Pariah and Lythienne did anyhow.
Farima seemed content to wait as long as necessary. Finally, however, Lythienne whispered she
could hear someone approaching.

"Thank you," came a woman's voice, growing closer. "These streets can be so scary sometimes. I
feel so much better having someone to protect me."

"Of course, my child," said a man. Pariah ground her teeth at the sound of that voice. She drew her
rapier.

She heard someone fumbling at the door. "Could you come inside? At least until I find the lamp?
And maybe I could offer you a glass of wine for your trouble."

"That sounds delightful." Pariah could hear the leer in his voice.

The door opened and a young girl stepped in. She didn't look to the side as she said, "The lamp is
back here. I guess I should move it closer to the door, but I keep forgetting to do that when it's
light." She moved slowly into the room, arms out in the darkness. However, Pariah could see her
just fine, just as she could see the middle-aged half-elf who followed her.

The man stopped, peering in Farima's direction. Pariah heard an intake of breath. "Ruffians!" he
cried. "You dare ambush a priest of Tymora! Pay for your heresy!"

Lythienne darted forward and shoved him out of the doorway towards Pariah, and Pariah met him
with the point of her blade, which sunk into his side. Suddenly the room was bathed in a glow as
Farima's staff burst into life.

The priest looked around him. He laughed. "You? You whores think you can defy me! I'll use you
all and then sell you to slavers for this outrage." His eyes fell on Rowan, her illusionary disguise
gone. His face twisted into rage. "Acolyte! How dare you strike against one of the Lady's faithful?"

"Faithful?" she spat. "Lady Luck is fighting on my side tonight!" A bolt of radiant energy shot
from her fingers and exploded in his chest.
The priest was staggered but muttered a prayer, something dark, nothing like any prayer to Tymora
that Pariah had ever heard. A cloud of cackling shadows swirled around him.. The room was
buffeted by winds as this swarms of spectral creatures flew about and engulfed the four women.
Pariah felt them flying through her, pulling energy out of her. She resisted but the others seemed to
have less success. Lythienne was overwhelmed and collapsed to the floor. Farima and Rowan
struggled as the dark cloud pulled life from their bodies, but they grimly held their feet. As Pariah
stabbed at him, both of the other women managed to get off spells. Bolts of energy hammered into
the priest, knocking him to his knees. He moaned, "I'll kill you bitches," and fell face first onto the
wooden floor.

The dark cloud dissipated as the priest fell, taking the shrieking figures with it, though Pariah still
felt weak from the spell's effect. "Help her!" Pariah barked, her sword pointed at the still body of
the priest. The other two were already moving. Farima knelt down next to Lythienne and laid a
hand on her body. She closed her eyes and her hand started to glow softly. After a moment, the elf
moaned and the three other women let out sighs of relief.

The other two helped Lythienne sit up, though they were all still shaking with fatigue from
whatever that spell had done to them. She saw the body of the priest and said, "Damn, I wanted to
see him go down."

"What was that spell?" Rowan asked. "That was no blessing from Tymora."

"He's still breathing," Farima said gravely.

Pariah had been watching the others but now she looked down. Farima was right. The man's chest
was slowly rising and falling. "Not for long," she said, and plunged the sword into his back. Then
she did it again for good measure. She looked again, and he was still. "It's done."

"No," said the dark voice in her head. "It is not."

She knew what she had promised him. And if anyone deserved it, this man did. But it was very
different to be standing over him, knowing what was about to happen.

"Do it now," the voice said.

"In a minute," she said, trying to keep her voice low.

"What?" asked Lythienne, her sharp elven ears hearing Pariah's whisper.

"No," said the voice. "You must do it now! Before he escapes. Or they will die."

She didn't want the other women to see this. She didn't want them to know what she was, what she
was going to do, but she had no choice. She hoped she could at least do it in Infernal, the language
spoken by the inhabitants of the Nine Hells. He claimed to not understand her when she spoke
Infernal, saying her accent was terrible. In reality, she knew he just enjoyed her discomfort at
having to speak to him aloud in the hearing of others. Regardless, she had to try to hide what she
was about to do.

Pariah knelt down next to the priest. She reached out her hand and in the dark tongue of the devils
she said, "I claim the soul of this man in the name of Levistus, Lord of Betrayers, Duke of the Fifth
Circle of Hell." She laid her hand on his back and dark energy surrounded her fingers. It reached
into him and latched onto something. She felt it move into her and through her. She flung herself
back against the wall, trying to get away from the sickening feeling, and it faded.

"Done!" she snarled.

"Then our business is complete," the voice said, and Pariah shivered. "You have been a good
servant. Perhaps I will call upon you again."

Pariah didn't bother to answer. She angrily wiped tears away and looked up. She realized that the
other three women were standing over her, varying expressions of concern on their faces.

"What did you just do?" Farima demanded angrily. "What kind of dark magic was that?"

Pariah thought quickly. "It stops him from being raised. We don't want him brought back."

Farima's eyes narrowed, but Rowan stepped in quickly. "And I think we all agree we don't want
that, right? What's done is done, and now we need to go our separate ways. We must never meet or
speak of this again."

Pariah flipped the man over. "What are you doing now?" asked Farima with suspicion.

"I'm taking his stuff."

"You would rob the dead?"

Pariah looked at her in contempt. "We just murdered him. You are squeamish about robbing him?
Fine, more for me." She rifled his pockets. He had a fine dagger hidden up one sleeve, a decent
size pouch of gold, and a very nice ring. In another pocket she found a medallion. It was cheap
metal, not worth much, but she was surprised by what she saw on it: a black hand. She tossed it on
the floor at the feet of the other three women.

Rowan gasped as she saw it. "Bane?" Her voice grew angry. "You served Bane, you pile of shit?"
She kicked the corpse in the face. "You dare defile Lady Tymora's temple with that monster's
worship?" She kicked him again.

"Okay, okay," Lythienne said gently, putting her hand on Rowan's arm. "I think he's dead." Rowan
was shaking with anger but she let herself be pulled away from him.

Pariah had finished searching him. "OK, you want to split this up?"

The woman all looked less than enthusiastic. "No," said Farima, a look of contempt on her face.

"I...couldn't," said Rowan, still confused by the revelation of the priest's true allegiance.

"I owe you that money," Pariah replied.

"No, you don't. I told you, that was a gift. Just take it." She was clearly uncomfortable with the
conversation.

"Why don't you keep it," said Lythienne. "I don't really want any keepsakes."

Pariah shrugged. "Fine, but don't come to me later."

"We won't be," said Rowan. "I meant what I said. We need to go our separate ways. Nobody can
suspect this conspiracy. Let's just go now and do our best to forget this happened."

Pariah stood, having finished stuffing the loot into various pockets. Farima doused her light and
the women exited into the street, closing the door behind them. Likely nobody would find the body
until someone investigated the smell in a few days.

The women exchanged a silent glance and then turned away from each other and melted into the
 nighttime streets of Baldur's Gate.

Chapter End Notes

As may be obvious, Pariah is a warlock, though she has a lot of homebrew to better fit
her patron and bloodline. A few examples:

She gets Ray of Frost automatically, and all Eldritch Blast invocations apply to
Ray of Frost instead
Dark One's Blessing affects only kills with her rapier, even before it becomes a
true pact weapon
She can cast Compelled Duel without using a spell slot once per short rest (or
possibly at will, I keep changing my mind)
She gets a different set of patron spells that are cold or necrotic based instead of
fire based.

She also gets warlock boosts from "Rick's Guide to Fun". She will take a couple of
fighter levels to complement the class. Are my changes balanced? I have no idea. It's
all for the benefit of the story, not meant to be a playable homebrew.

Rowan is a trickery cleric. Lythienne is a monk who will take a couple of bard levels
just for RP. Farima is a divine soul sorcerer who also gets boosts from "Rick's Guide
to Fun".

Why all female PCs? I like writing badass women.

These first two chapters describe the Dark Secret that all DIA PCs are supposed to
share. Next chapter will start with their encounter with Captain Zodge.

Pariah was created before I had heard of this module. She was a character in search of
a story when I found DIA and realized she was perfect for it. Her patron can act as a
railroad, leading the party through the story because he has a vested interest in guiding
them to a certain outcome. I then created the rest of the party. Originally there were
six, but that was hard to juggle so I ditched the fighter and the ranger because they
were the least interesting. Of course that leaves them without a heavy hitter, but I can
tweak battles as needed to give an appropriate challenge.
 A Compromising Secret
Chapter Summary

The four women try to return to their previous lives, all of them living under the dark
secret of the priest's murder. One of them, however, struggles under the weight of an
even darker secret.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah bristled as the guards marched her down the Coast Way through Stonyeyes. Six Flaming
Fist soldiers had shown up at the flophouse and announced that Captain Zodge wanted to speak
with her. When she asked if she was under arrest, the man in charge said ominously, "Would you
like to be?"

They hadn't taken her weapon; in fact they had told her to arm and armor herself. However, they
surrounded her as they walked, making it clear she was going with them one way or another. She
was short so had trouble seeing around the hulking soldier in front of her. The mercenaries pushed
their way through the crowd of refugees, yelling at them to clear a path and striking anyone who
didn't move fast enough with their billy clubs.

The refugees had started streaming in from the east a few days ago, remnants of Elturel, the capital
of the nearby nation of Elturgard. The rumors were flying but one story was consistent: the city
was gone. Not lost, not conquered, not burned. Gone, with nothing but a crater where it once stood.

According to the rumors, Ulder Ravengard, Grand Duke of the Flaming Fist, had been visiting the
city at the time. The mercenary band seemed to be struggling with the loss of their leader, and
compensated by getting meaner and more violent. It was clear they had lost control, and as the
refugee tide rose they ordered the city sealed, the gates closed. Not only were no refugees coming
in but apparently nobody in the city was leaving. She had no idea if the other gates were open, but
the area along Coast Way had become even more of a crowded slum than before.

"Squad coming in," bellowed the leader as they approached the Basilisk Gate. Pariah looked past
him and saw a small door in the gate open up. The Flaming Fist soldiers pushed the people back as
they surged towards the opening, clubbing anyone who didn't take the hint. The squad hustled her
through the opening and she heard it shut behind her.

The noise of the crowd outside was less with the door closed, but she heard raised voices ahead.
She saw a group of commoners facing a line of soldiers. One of the commoners was yelling at a
tall soldier with long black hair and an eye patch, demanding to be let out of the city. The man with
the eye patch wore the insignia of a captain, and was yelling back, telling the commoner to stand
down. The commoner shoved him and chaos broke out. The soldiers surged forward into the mob
of commoners, punching anyone who didn't move off. The captain waded in with them. The squad
commander by Pariah barked at one of his men, "Watch her!" and the rest of them moved off to
join the melee.

Pariah looked for her opportunity to slip away, hoping the lone soldier would watch the fight.
Instead he watched her, his spear at the ready. She raised an eyebrow. "Five gold to look the other
way?"

His sneered and leaned down to put his face near hers. His breath stank as he said, "I could just
take your whole purse and then beat you for trying to escape." He grimaced. "But the captain wants
to see you. Count yourself lucky, filth."

She patiently waited out the fight, which was brief. A number of commoners were on the ground,
hopefully just unconscious. The guards relieved them of their gold and anything else valuable,
laughing as they did so. She saw the squad leader talking to the captain and pointing to her. The
captain looked over, said something to the soldier, and walked into the watch station. The squad
leader waved her over and, soldier at her side, she went to him.

She was shown into the station, down a hall, and into a room. There she saw the captain, now
sitting at a desk. She turned to take in the rest of the room and froze in place. Her heart thundered
in her chest when she saw who else was in the room: Rowan, Farima and Lythienne, all studiously
ignoring each other.

"Sit," the captain ordered. Pariah nervously took the remaining seat. "I'm Captain Zodge," he said,
"and you four have been drafted into the Flaming Fist." When mouths opened to object, he
snapped, "Silence!" Mouths closed.

"As you probably know, Elturel is gone, now nothing but a hole in the ground. The refugee crisis
has stoked fears that Baldur's Gate might suffer the same fate. The fact that our grand duke, Ulder
Ravengard, was visiting Elturel on a diplomatic mission when the city was destroyed doesn't seem
like a coincidence.

"The knights of Elturgard call themselves the Hellriders. A few of them escaped the destruction
and think we're somehow to blame for Elturel's downfall. What a bunch of self-righteous rabble-
rousers! Some of them have infiltrated the city and are causing trouble. We're arresting them on
sight, but that's left us shorthanded to deal with another problem. For that, I require your help.
Understood?"

There was an awkward pause, but it became clear he was looking for an answer. "Hypothetically,"
said Lythienne, "just hypothetically mind you, what would happen to someone who refused this
generous offer?"

He glared at her for a moment, and then he turned to Rowan. "Acolyte, I'm afraid I have some bad
news. We have found that priest who went missing. Murdered, his body left to be eaten by rats in
the Lower City. Tragic, of course. I suspect it was some of these damn refugees." He pierced each
of them with a look. "Or should I investigate further and discover the real murderers?"

The four women took a moment to digest the implied threat. To drive it home, Zodge said, "If we
find who did it, they'll hang for sure."

The women looked at each other, no longer feeling the need to pretend to be strangers. Finally,
Rowan said carefully, "And what would you have us do?"

He leaned back in his chair. "Baldur's Gate has long been plagued by followers of the Dead Three:
the gods Bane, Bhaal, and Myrkul. I thought we had wiped them out, but apparently not. These
purveyors of fear and death are taking advantage of the current crisis to commit murder sprees
throughout the city. As my appointed deputies in this matter, you'll have license to kill these
wretches on sight. Find their lair, and wipe it out. Eliminate anyone who gets in your way, and
don't worry about collateral damage.
"If you do what I say, I'll see that you each receive two hundred gold pieces in addition to my
gratitude, which is worth considerably more. This murder case will be closed, with the conclusion
that the refugees murdered him."

The women again exchanged glances. "Stopping minions of the Dead Three," said Rowan slowly.
"I'm...okay with that."

Farima's expression had changed from indignation to determination during his speech. She nodded
sharply. "Yes. I will gladly hunt them down to administer Lord Tyr's justice."

Lythienne looked conflicted, but finally sighed. "Well, we don't have much of a choice."

All eyes turned on Pariah. She steeled herself. "I have one condition," she said, trying to keep her
voice firm.

The captain's eyebrows rose. "Do you really?" he said, danger in his voice.

"Not the refugees," she said. "Blame the cultists. It's more likely they murdered the priest, don't
you agree? The refugees have enough problems without you spreading lies about them." Her voice
became angry as she finished.

He studied her for a moment. "And what if, as your friend put it, I refuse this generous offer?"

Pariah pursed her lips. "Then I'll confess to the murder." She turned to the other three women.
"Myself. Alone." She turned back to the captain. "He had stab wounds, right? From a rapier?" She
clapped the weapon at her side. "But I won't let you harass the refugees over this. That's my
condition."

Zodge glowered at her, but finally said, "Very well. The cultists murdered the priest."

She nodded. "Then I'm in."

He reached into a drawer, pulled out four copper badges bearing the Flaming Fist's coat of arms
and tossed them on the desk. "Carry these at all times and you won't be harassed. You will also be
allowed to pass in and out of the gates without toll." Sternly he added, "Do not lose them or sell
them or you will regret it."

As each woman took a badge, he said, "A few blocks from the Basilisk Gate is Elfsong Tavern. A
spy named Tarina hangs out there, gathering rumors for the Guild. She owes me a favor, so tell her
you work for me. Ask her what she knows about the Dead Three. And, for the love of Balduran, be
nice. Tarina has dangerous friends. Now, go!"

They exited the station, stowing their new badges. "Does anyone know where this tavern is?" asked
Rowan.

"Oh, I know the location of every tavern in the city," Lythienne assured them. "This way."

As they walked, she said brightly, "It's actually a fascinating place, quite charming." She paused.
"Well...it's a rough place like anywhere in the Lower City, so be careful. However the story behind
the tavern's name is fascinating. The spirit of an unknown elven woman haunts the place.
Periodically she sings snatches of a beautiful song. It is a lament of her lover who was lost at sea.
It's just heartbreaking. Do any of you speak Elvish?"

"I do," said Rowan.

"Wonderful. I think you'll be touched by the lyrics. They lose something when translated to
Common."

"You know this city," said Farima to Lythienne. "Where can we go for a private conversation? I
think there is something we need to clear up."

"We do?" asked Rowan. "What?"

Farima's eyes swept over the crowded streets around them. "Later. Without others listening in."

Lythienne thought for a bit. "There are private dining rooms at the Elfsong. We could always take
one of those."

Farima nodded. "Yes. I think we should do that before we speak to this agent of Captain Zodge's."

As they walked, Lythienne told them about some of her adventures in the tavern, where she had
occasionally performed. It wasn't long before they had walked the few blocks and reached their
destination. Lythienne preceded them through the entrance. She spotted the proprietor at the bar
and called out, "Alan! How are you? It's been too long."

The man she was addressing was a half elf. He looked about 30, which means he was probably
twice that or more, his elven blood keeping him young. His face lit up as Lythienne crossed the
room. "Lythienne, my love. I'm much better now than I was a moment ago. Are you going to grace
us with a performance?"

"Oh, not tonight. I'm on a different kind of business."

Pariah's eyes swept the room as the two of them talked. The place was a little nicer than average
for this part of the city, but that wasn't saying much. There was an assortment of customers from a
scar-faced halfling flipping a coin and glaring around him, to a jovial half-orc whose laughter
periodically blasted through the noise of the other patrons. Two young human men waited on
tables, and flanking the door were a half-ogre woman and...Pariah paused. There was a floating suit
of armor there as well. She wasn't sure if the armor was magically animated or if the wearer was
invisible.

Her inspection of the armor was cut short when the voice of a woman started singing. Pariah
couldn't understand the words, but she'd heard Elvish enough to recognize it. She looked around
but saw no source. The noise in the tavern died down as people stopped to listen to the song. The
voice sang maybe a dozen lines and then the song faded out. There was a pause, and then
conversations resumed.

"Beautiful," Rowan breathed.

"What did she sing?" asked Pariah.

"Oh, I'm not really that good at translating between languages. I can understand it but sometimes
it's hard to get the meanings right, especially something poetic like song lyrics. But it's like
Lythienne said: she was singing of her lover lost at sea."

Pariah felt moved by the song even though she hadn't understood it.

Lythienne rejoined them. "We are so lucky," she said with excitement. "Nobody ever knows if or
when she's going to sing. She might sing several times a night, or she might go days between
performances. I've heard it only a few times, and it melts my heart each time."
She sighed and then, returning to the subject, said, "Well, our target is upstairs playing Baldur's
Bones. Alan said she's usually up there most of the night. So we can go now or..." She looked over
at Farima.

"I think we need to deal with this other matter first," the woman said firmly.

"All right." She gestured towards a curtained doorway. "Alan said the Green Dragon Room is
open. Shall we?"

They followed her into the room, a small dining room with a large round table and six wooden
chairs that had obviously seen some action. They looked sturdy but were well scarred. The room's
namesake -- the head of a young green dragon ‑- hung on one wall. "All right," said Rowan as they
settled at the table. "What do you want to talk about?"

Farima turned a glare on Pariah. "What did you do to the priest that night?"

Pariah was taken by surprise by the question. She hadn't realized that was the direction the
conversation was going to go. While she struggled with an answer, Lythienne spoke up. "I think,"
she said with quiet resolve, "that it would be best if we left the events of that night behind us."

"If I am to stand by this woman, then I must know what kind of evil magic she used that night."
She turned back to Pariah. "And it was evil, wasn't it?"

Pariah pursed her lips. "What difference does it make?" she asked defiantly.

"It matters to me," Farima insisted. "Tell me."

The two women glared at each other, and then Rowan put her hand on Pariah's arm. Gently she
said, "I have to admit, I have been wondering myself. More importantly, I have been wondering if
it was related to what happened the night of the sahuagin attack."

If Pariah had been surprised by Farima's question, she was stunned to speechlessness by Rowan's
comment. In confusion, Farima asked, "What happened the night of the sahuagin attack?"

Rowan ignored the question and said to Pariah, "I was concerned about you so I sought out the
Forgotten to ask them why you had left. They told me about that night, but I want to hear your side
of things."

Pariah's mind was whirling. It had been over two months since the sahuagin had broken their truce
with Baldur's Gate and swarmed out of the river. Even now, nobody knew why, at least nobody she
talked to. She had done her best to forget that night and the horror that it had begun. "It's over," she
said emphatically. "It doesn't matter."

Rowan shook her head. "It does matter. If we are going to do this together, fight together like we
did that night, then we need to be able to trust each other." She squeezed Pariah's arm and said, "I
have my suspicions about what happened, but I need you to tell us. And I need you -- we all need
you -- to be honest about it."

Pariah clenched her fists. She hadn't talked to anyone about it. And yet she needed to. She didn't
want to face it, but she had to get it out, like vomiting up the poison before it killed you. She hung
her head and said, "All right."

She closed her eyes a moment to gather her thoughts. "To understand that night, to really
understand the decision I made that night, you need to know about me." She opened her eyes and
looked at them. "Do you know how tieflings are born?"
"Mommy and daddy tieflings?" said Lythienne.

Pariah couldn't help but laugh at that remark, and the mood lightened a little bit. "Well, yes,
sometimes." Her smile faded. "But many of us have human parents, humans whose bloodlines
were corrupted by the devils of the Nine Hells. It might be something one of my parents did, or it
might be ten generations back. Nobody really knows all the details. I was told this several years by
this nice old man who was crossing the bridge. He saw me and came to talk to me. He knew about
my kind but had never met one. He told me all tieflings can trace their bloodlines to one of the
archdevils. Most are related to...well, I forget his name. The boss devil. But the old man said he
could tell my bloodline had been corrupted by a devil called Levistus."

Realizing she was straying from the subject, she collected herself again and said, "Anyhow, so my
parents were human. My father left the day I was born because his wife gave birth to a monster.
My mother raised me. She named me Morna. In our local dialect it means 'plague'. That tells you
what our relationship was like.

"She never missed an opportunity to tell me how I had ruined her life. She beat me, insulted me,
and so on. She did this," she pointed to the deep scar at the base of one horn. "She was trying to cut
my horns off. Make me look normal. I'm not sure if she stopped because she was tired or because
my screaming and crying finally got to her. I guess I'm glad she did quit, because after my horns
she was going to cut off my tail.

"We traveled a lot. No matter how she tried to hide her monster child, people found out, and we
moved on again. Then one morning after we'd stayed in some horrible little flophouse in the Outer
City, she sat me down on the side of the road and told me to wait. She walked away and never
came back. I was five.

"I won't bore you with the story of the next few years. Let's just say I learned to steal, to hide, to
run, to fight. Someone started calling me Mouse because I was always scurrying out of hiding to
grab food. It caught on, and suddenly that was my name. A crew took me in, but they were pretty
much slavers. A few strong people at the top, a lot of weak ones doing the work. It was awful.
Then, when I was about fifteen -- I didn't know my age by this time -- a few of us set out to form
our own crew. This one would be different. We'd support each other and look out for each other.
And that's when we formed the Forgotten.

"It worked. We were careful who we let join. We paid off who we had to for protection, kissed up
to others, did what we had to do to survive. It was still awful, but a little less awful. I know it
sounds corny, but it was family, the only family I've ever had. And that's what you need to know to
understand what happened that night."

She paused as the memories flooded in again. Her voice caught but she pushed on. "When those
disgusting fish people came swarming out of the water, the Flaming Fuckboys took off. Hid behind
their walls in Wyrm's Rock, leaving the filth to fend for ourselves. Forgotten, as always. A dozen
of us managed to retreat into an abandoned house, hoping they'd pass us by, but three of them came
in. Not many of us could fight. The others were too weak, too young, too old, too sick, too starving.

"I stood there with my knife. It was a short blade for cutting purses. It wasn't really a weapon.
Janshi had a club. Little Pif had a sharp stick. And that was it. The three of us against three big
things with scales and teeth and claws and spears. In that moment, I knew we were going to die."

She shook her head. "Suddenly, everything slowed down and just...stopped. We were all frozen, us
and them." Her voice broke as she felt tears well up. "And then I heard his voice. The voice of
Levistus."
Pariah took a moment to compose herself. "It was cold and empty and strange and familiar. He
sighed over this awful thing that was going to happen. He said he could help me. He could give me
the power to defend my people, defend my family. All I had to do was kill a priest. A specific
priest. Of Tymora. He would help me and then I would have twenty days to live up to my end of
the bargain.

"I asked why and all he did was ask if we had a deal. And then things started to move again, very
slowly, but they started to move again. I knew I didn't have time to think. I had to make a decision.
I had no idea what a monster that priest was at the time, but it didn't matter. One innocent life
against eleven innocent lives. A stranger against eleven people I loved. It wasn't a hard decision. I
said yes."

She shivered. "I felt it move into me. Coldness. Darkness. Power. My hand felt heavy and I looked
down. My knife had been replaced by this." She tapped the hilt of her rapier. "I looked back at the
monsters, I felt cold anger building up, and then...nothing.

"I don't know what happened. I don't remember. I just know that suddenly I was standing over
them, panting, injured, but standing. They were dead. Bloody. Ice was on their bodies and I knew I
had done that. I just didn't know how. But I had won. They were dead. My people were safe. With
relief, I turned to look at the people behind me."

Her voice caught again. "They looked at me and they were afraid. More afraid of me than they had
been of the sahuagin. I stepped forward and asked if they were all right. They stepped back and
dropped their eyes. They nodded, but they were scared. I got mad, demanded to know why they
were afraid, but that just scared them more."

She started to take off her glove. "I don't know what they saw, not all of it, but eventually I realized
my body was covered with this." She removed the glove to reveal her bare hand. The other three
leaned in to look. Her skin was covered with writing, small but sharp, an elaborate foreign script.
"It's all over, every speck of my skin below my neck. I guess I should be glad he didn't mark my
face."

"What does is say?" asked Rowan.

"It's our agreement." She looked at her hand in wonder. "I can read it, too. I mean I can't read.
Never learned. But I can read this. I know it all. Every word. I don't understand it all, but I know it
all. I could recite it."

She put her glove back on. "After a few days, I realized I had to leave. It wasn't the same. They
were all afraid of me. No matter how much I explained, they just nodded and moved away. They
tip-toed around me and apologized for everything. That's what we do, we nobodies, we apologize
to the somebodies for existing.

"And, as he reminded me now and then, I had a job to do. A promise to keep. So I went to the
Upper City, to the Lady's Hall, and asked to see the priest. He was happy to see me. He closed the
door, I attacked him and, well, you all know the rest."

The group was silent while they digested her story. Eventually, Rowan said gently, "That's not all
of it. You are leaving something out, aren't you?" Pariah wouldn't meet her gaze. "He didn't ask
you to just kill the priest, did he?"

"No," Pariah said softly.

Farima's face twisted in anger. "You took his soul, you monster!"
"No!" Pariah said quickly. "I didn't take it. I just claimed it for him."

Farima jumped to her feet. "And you think that makes it better?"

"NO!" Pariah shouted. "I think that makes it worse." Tears started to flow. "You don't understand
what it was like. I was just the...the...like a sewer that shit flows through. He reached through me. I
felt him. His evil. His sickness. It moved through me to the priest. I felt him take his soul. I heard
the priest scream and beg for mercy. I felt his fear, felt him lose hope. I felt him move through me
as Levistus took him." She wiped her eyes. "I've had awful things done to me, worse than you can
imagine, but nothing, nothing, was as awful as that."

They were silent again. Farima resumed her seat. Coldly she said, "You permitted that vile creature
to work through you to harvest a soul. That is a horrifically evil thing to do."

"I know," Pariah mumbled. "Better than you, I know."

"Who cares?" said Lythienne, and the other women looked at her. "OK, yeah, evil bad. I get it. But
where do you think his soul was going anyhow? So she helped it along, so what?"

"No," said Rowan. "That's like saying everybody dies so it's okay to murder random people on the
street. It's not the same."

Farima nodded emphatically. "To overrule the judgment of the gods is arrogant and blasphemous.
To deliberately harvest a soul for one of the infernals is a reprehensible act."

"She's right," Pariah said gloomily.

Lythienne spread her hands. "I don't see the difference, but it's over, right? You did the deal.
Done."

Hesitantly Pariah said, "Yes. This deal is done."

Rowan frowned. "But?"

Pariah dropped her head again. "But I think he might come back. He hinted he might."

"This is my point," said Farima. "We cannot trust her. She dabbles with the dark ones and will turn
on us."

"I won't," said Pariah, some of her anger coming back. "I won't betray people. And I'll never, ever
offer a soul again no matter what the reward."

Farima snorted. "They corrupt. That is what they do. Eventually, you will fall to his evil."

Rowan shook her head. "Maybe, maybe not. Look, I don't claim to know her, but I know of her.
She has a widespread reputation as a kind and generous person. She is helpful, she sacrifices for
others. She will go hungry so that others can eat."

Farima snorted again.

"Did you mean what you said to the captain?" asked Lythienne. When Pariah's brow furrowed,
Lythienne said, "About confessing to the murder if he tried to pin it on the refugees."

"Of course."

Lythienne looked confused. "Why? You don't even know any of them."
Pariah mirrored her confusion. "Why would I need to? They shouldn't pay for what we did."

Lythienne shook her head and said to Farima, "I don't understand that kind of sacrifice myself, but
isn't that the kind of person you'd want her to be?"

Rowan added, "And if she is going to be tempted by corruption, shouldn't she be with people who
can remind her of the right path? I don't condone the choices she made, but I can appreciate the
difficulty she was in."

Lythienne added, "And it seems unjust to punish her for what she might do in the future, wouldn't
you agree?" She emphasized the word "unjust" every so slightly.

Farima's face clouded. "Perhaps, but it is a fact that tieflings are drawn to evil by their heritage."

"Again, which is why they need our compassion and support more than others," said Rowan. "I
stand with her."

Farima frowned and then looked over at Lythienne. The elf shrugged. "I still don't see anything
wrong with what she did."

The Calishite's frown deepened. "Very well, I will go along. For now." She turned to Pariah. "If he
does contact you again, I expect you to tell us and to be completely forthcoming. If you hide
anything from us, I will assume my suspicions to be correct."

Pariah's reply was cut off when they heard the elf woman singing again. The music was different
this time, darker, sadder. If her other song was a lament, this was a dirge. Both Lythienne and
Rowan looked surprised. "What is it?" Pariah asked.

"The song is different," said Lythienne in wonder.

"What is she saying?" Pariah asked, but Lythienne shushed her. Pariah realized that the tavern
outside had gone completely silent rather than just lowering in volume like before. The song
worked its way into her thoughts in uncomfortable ways. She almost felt like she could understand
it, but the meaning was just out of hearing.

Eventually the song ended. Lythienne and Rowan looked at each other. "It has to be a sign," said
the acolyte.

"What did she sing?" asked Farima.

"Wait," said Lythienne. "It's...it's...give me a moment. I want to do the lyrics justice." She closed
her eyes and moved her lips for a bit. After a long time, she finally opened them again. "Well, it's
not as good as the original, but my best translation would be something like this.

O sing a song of Elturel

Of water, woods, and hill
The sun dawns on her ruddy cliffs
And fields green and still.
This land of long-abiding joy
Home of the strong and brave
Renowned by all, across the realms,
And never once a slave.
O sing a song of Elturel
When foes are at her door
Her fields torn by cloven feet
 From some infernal shore.
Arise the mighty Hellriders
Take up your swift, keen swords
Then charge into the hellish fray
And scatter devil hordes.
O sing a song of Elturel
And when the night does fall
Sleep safe beneath Companion's light
Until the dawn does call.
We're bound by mortal covenant
That only ends with death
And so we'll sing of Elturel
Until our final breath."

Farima's brow was knotted in thought. "We speak of devils and she sings of devils. Odd."

Pariah said, "Hellriders. Didn't Zodge talk about them?"

"Yeah, the knights of Elturgard, he said," replied Rowan.

"They are more than that," said Lythienne. "Long ago, the knights of Elturgard descended into the
Nine Hells on horseback to battle the devils, thus were given the name. Only a handful returned."

"And the Companion," Pariah said. "It's some kind of holy light over the city, right?"

Lythienne nodded and looked slightly impressed. "Yes. It protects the city against undead. How
did you know?"

Pariah shrugged. "A lot of travelers from Elturel come through Wyrm's Crossing. Sometimes it's
good to talk to them while picking their pockets."

Lythienne said, "I've been coming here for a long time and I've never heard of the lady singing
anything other than the song we heard earlier."

"I wonder if it's related to the fall of the city somehow," mused Rowan.

Farima said, "Perhaps. It may be some kind of portent, and not a beneficent one. The evils of the
Hells and the evils of the Dead Three are not usually entwined, but perhaps now they are." She
gave Pariah a significant look. "And I must wonder if any of this has to do with our companion."

Pariah opened her mouth to say something rude, but Lythienne said quietly but firmly, "Farima, let
us give her the benefit of the doubt until she gives us reason not to."

"Very well," the Calishite growled. "Shall we head upstairs to speak to our contact?"

Chapter End Notes

Orphan tiefling warlock who grew up in the slums. Nope, no backstory clichés here.
At least she's not a brooding lone wolf. I mean I think I did a good job with the details,
but I recognize it's an overused D&D trope.
It also bears an annoying resemblance to the backstories of the MCs in two of my
other posted fics. I seem to be stuck with a type. The other PCs have backstories that
are more varied and those will come out in future chapters.
 A Rowdy Brawl
Chapter Summary

Blackmailed into working for Captain Zodge, the four women go to meet his contact
in the Elfsong Tavern and find out about the evil cult working in the city.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The four women left the private dining room and climbed the steps to the second level of the
tavern. This large room was lit by lanterns hanging from the rafters. Rugs covered the floor and
helped dampen the sound coming from the patrons who were gathered around two large tables
rolling dice; Pariah recognized the game as Baldur's Bones. Lythienne nodded to a human woman
at the nearer table. "That's her."

Pariah shook herself out of her funk. She knew how to talk to people. She was good at it. It was
time she stopped moaning and starting contributing. "Stay here," she said. The other three seemed
surprised but didn't object. Pariah went over to the table, palming her Flaming Fist badge, and
reached out to put her hand on Tarina's shoulder. The woman turned and Pariah said, "We should
talk."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Should we?"

Pariah showed her the badge cupped in her hand while keeping it hidden from the others at the
table. There was no reason to mark the woman as a snitch. "Yes. You want to do this here or over
there?" She nodded at the other three women.

Tarina looked over, sighed, and swept up the coins on the table in front of her. She turned away,
handing the dice in her hand to the man who quickly moved up to take her place.

"This better be good," she said as she walked up to the women. "I was winning."

"Zodge sent us," Pariah said. "He wants to know about the Dead Three."

"I'm sure he does," said the spy coyly. "They have been quite busy lately, haven't they?" She
looked over the four women and said, "I did come across some useful information about them but I
have a price."

"Which is?" Pariah asked.

"Well, it seems some old friends of mine are coming to visit me this evening, here in this very
tavern. I'm afraid we had a bit of a disagreement the last time we spoke. About the ownership of a
rather large sum of money. They are coming to collect."

Pariah nodded sagely. "And by 'collect', you don't mean coins."

"No, I don't. So here is our problem. I have important information about the Dead Three,
information Zodge will want to hear, but if I die here tonight then that information dies with me.
Protect me and the information is yours."
Pariah frowned. She thought about trying to get the information out of the woman anyhow -- many
people talked when faced with the scary devil woman -- but she remembered Zodge's warning that
she had powerful friends. Plus if she were an important asset to him, making an enemy of her
would make an enemy of him and that would go badly.

"Tell us first," said Farima, while Pariah was mulling over the situation. "I give my word we will
protect you."

Tarina laughed. "And I'm sure you're just the picture of honesty."

Farima was offended. "I do not lie. It serves no purpose. We will try to protect you, but if we
cannot this information needs to survive. Many more will die if it does not."

Tarina turned back to Pariah. "Is she kidding?"

Pariah shook her head and rolled her eyes. "She's not from around here. What if we just got you out
of here?"

She shrugged. "They'll find me eventually. Better to end it tonight."

"Can you fight?"

Tarina patted her on the shoulder. "That's what you are for, dear. I'll just stay here while you take
care of business. Deal?"

Pariah looked at the others. Rowan and Lythienne didn't look that happy but nodded. Farima
scowled but finally mumbled, "Agreed."

The tiefling asked, "How will we know these friends of yours?"

"They are sailors...of a sort," she said archly.

"Pirates," Pariah surmised.

Tarina said, "I'm not completely sure who will be coming after me. I heard the captain is dead, so
probably his first mate, Dead-Eye. You'll know him because of his cloudy right eye. And, of
course, he won't be alone."

"Fine. Go back to your game." As the woman walked off, Pariah said, "Lythienne, what are the
chances the bouncers would help us?'

The elf laughed. "What do you think?"

Pariah sighed, "Yeah."

Farima looked confused. "Why would they not stop a murder in their own establishment?"

"It's not their business," Pariah explained. "Let the patrons work out their own problems. Losers
pay for damages out of what they can take off the bodies. Bouncers get involved only if one of the
staff is in danger. Or if some wizard starts flinging fireballs and the whole tavern in at risk."

"Absurd," mumbled Farima. "Well, what if we attempt to negotiate with them?"

"With what? What do we have to offer?"

Farima sputtered. "Perhaps we could bribe them."

Pariah snorted. "If all four of us put every copper we had in a pile, I think the best he'd do is laugh
in our faces before he killed us. There is no way we have enough to tempt him. This is going to be a
fight."

"I do not wish to ambush someone who is not yet an enemy."

Pariah wondered how this woman had survived for so long. However, she needed Farima on her
side. "Fine," she sighed. "I will try to negotiate."

"Why you?" Farima said archly.

"Because I know how to talk to people like that."

Farima sneered. "Yes, I imagine you do."

Pariah felt her temper rising when Lythienne said, with just a hint of steel in her voice, "That's
enough. Both of you. Farima, her plan sounds good, don't you agree?"

The Calishite grumbled, "Yes, I suppose so."

"Fine," said Rowan. "Let's all wait downstairs."

They did so and settled at one of the tables. Pariah nursed an ale as did Rowan; Lythienne made a
significant dent in a bottle of wine. Farima drank nothing, much to the annoyance of the tavern
keeper.

Pariah was starting to wonder if the crew was going to show up when a boisterous group of sailors
came through the front door. Even from this distance she could see one, a brawny man dressed
more gaudily than the others, had a milky eye. He also had no less than seven crewmen with him.
"Shit," she breathed. "We may have a problem."

"That's...a lot of them," Lythienne said.

"Yeah," said the tiefling. "I was expecting three or four. Maybe we could slip upstairs. Funnel
them up the steps."

Before the others could reply, the dead-eyed man bellowed, "We're looking for an old friend of
ours." He sniffed the air. "Goes by the name Tarina, or so I'm told. Loves to cheat at Baldur's
Bones. Ale's on me for anyone who tells me where to find her."

At least four different patrons said, nearly in chorus, "She's upstairs."

The captain grinned, showing a mouth full of yellow teeth. "Barkeep, set those fine people with as
much as they can drink." He turned to his crew. "You two, outside. Make sure she doesn't get out a
window. You, on the door. The rest of you, go fetch her for me. Alive, if ye can."

He settled down at a table that quickly cleared as he came near. "Ale for me as well," he yelled at
the bartender.

Pariah was debating what to do when Farima stood. "Stop, foul brigands!"

"Talona's tits," Pariah sighed. "OK, it looks like we are doing this."

Pariah stood and drew her blade. She moved to stand in front of the stairway. "Get behind me," she
growled at Farima. The Calishite hesitated but then mounted the stairs so she could see over
Pariah's head. Lythienne moved to stand next to the tiefling, and Rowan moved to the other side,
ducking inside the door of one of the private dining rooms. The acolyte mumbled, "Fortune favors
the bold," and Pariah felt a comforting warmth infuse her body.

The pirate crew stopped and glanced back at the captain. He chuckled evilly. "Well, what kind of
nonsense is this? Did the girl hire herself some muscle?"

"Not much of it," snickered one of the pirates, and the other pirates laughed too hard at the joke.
The patrons were quickly moving to the sides of the room, seeking what cover they could.

"Don't break my furniture!" Alan warned, as he ducked behind his bar.

The captain hadn't broken gaze with Pariah. The tiefling said, "All right, captain. What's it going to
take to get you to leave?"

He laughed at that, and then said over his shoulder, "Barkeep, where's my ale?"

"You'll get your ale when the fight's over. I'm not risking my people."

The captain sighed. "Oh, very well." He stood and walked towards the bar. To the tiefling he said,
"I've come to collect my debt. Pay me five thousand gold pieces and I'll be on me way."

"Five thousand?" came an indignant woman's voice from upstairs. "I took barely four!"

"Payment for my trouble comin' t' find ye," he shouted in the direction of the stairs. Alan passed a
mug of ale up from his hiding place. The captain took it, drank deeply, and started back to his
table. He pierced Pariah with a gaze from his good eye. "So, lass, d'ye have five thousand gold."

"Sorry, I'm a little short at the moment. I spend too much on ale. You know how it is."

"Aye, I do that." He looked them over and shook his head. "Look, girl. I doubt any of you has been
in a proper fight." He frowned. "Maybe you, but not the others. Why don't ye run along before we
have to get impolite?"

"Why don't you make me," she growled at him.

"Oh, very well," he sighed as he resumed his seat. "Crew, kill them."

Pariah flung out her left arm. She felt the cold move up and ice formed along her glove as a white
beam lashed out and struck one of the advancing pirates. A bolt from Farima's staff also struck
him, but he kept advancing. The four crewmen closed and as they did, Lythienne lashed out with
two powerful punches. As that man fell, the elf dodged the scimitar of a second. The other two
struck at Pariah and she avoided one but the other cut a gash in her side.

Lythienne slammed a kick into the other pirate engaged with her, and he went down as well. Pariah
was starting to realize the dancer wasn't such a liability after all. The pirate Pariah had previously
cast a spell at was hit by a bolt from Farima's staff and he collapsed. Pariah avoided the scimitar of
the last one. He dodged her blade but jerked back when hit by something shiny that came from
behind Pariah where Rowan was. Pariah could see it was a large coin, but the edges were jagged
and sharp. Lythienne moved up his other side, and with one blow he was on the ground as well.

The captain glowered at them. "I guess y'have some skill after all. Let's see how you fare against a
real pirate." He leapt to his feet and came at them with his own scimitar. He slashed at Lythienne,
who had just taken down three of his sailors, but she dodged nimbly out of the way, laughing at
him. Pariah stabbed at him and connected, but he barely seemed to feel the wound. Farima and
Rowan poured magical bolts into him, but he shrugged off the damage and kept slashing. He took
an enormous amount of punishment, but the elf was able to dodge his every swing, mocking his
inability to perform. He weakened and finally Pariah was able to strike the final blow.

When she did, something flowed into her from his body. It was something dark, but it wasn't like
when she had claimed the priest's soul. It flowed into her flesh, invigorating her. It felt good, but it
worried her.

"What was that?" snapped Farima, who was watching her closely.

Pariah ignored her. She spotted the pirate who had been tasked with guarding the door, now
looking a little scared and fingering the hilt of his blade. She pointed her rapier at him. "I'm too
tired to come all the way over there and kill you. Get out, get your friends outside, and don't come
back." He gulped, nodded, and darted out the door.

"I asked you a question," said Farima.

"I don't know what that was." Pariah looked around. The patrons were already starting to move
back to their tables. "We'll talk about it later."

"You said you would be honest with us about your dark dealings," the Calishite accused her.

"And I will," Pariah said firmly, "but not right now. Let's deal with this first. All right?"

Lythienne said, "She's has a point, Farima. Let's revisit this later."

Farima glared at Pariah but nodded. Rowan moved up next to Pariah and put her hand on the
spreading bloodstain on Pariah's side. The acolyte mumbled a prayer and Pariah felt the pain
subside. "That will hold you for a bit," said Rowan, "but it needs a real bandage at some point."

Tarina came down the stairs as the patrons came out from hiding and returned to their seats. "Nice
job," she said. "I really thought he was going to kill you guys. Glad I was wrong."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Pariah said sourly. "Now it's your turn, and your information
better be worth it."

"Oh, it is. It is. "Several blocks northwest of here is a public bathhouse with a walled garden and
frolicking nymphs carved into its front gates. Do you know the place?"

Pariah shrugged, but Lythienne said, "Yes, I know the place you mean."

"Good. Followers of the Dead Three have been seen coming and going from the bathhouse, and I'm
told there's a secret door inside that leads to underground tunnels. That's where the killers are
hiding. Now, with our business done, can I get back to my game?" She went back up the stairs
without waiting for an answer.

"Do you think his crewmates will be out for revenge?" Pariah called up after her.

"I doubt it. They'll be too busy fighting over who's captain now."

Pariah knelt down and started rifling the captain's pockets.

"Again?" Farima sneered.

"Yes, again," Pariah said tiredly. "He's got not use for any of it. Get us a table. I could use a drink."
He had a decent purse as well as some very nice jewelry. The other pirates had just a few silver
coins. She had to resist the street urchin urge to strip them bare and pull their teeth. This was a
good haul; a few more coppers wouldn't matter.

A shape loomed over her. She looked up to see the half-ogre bouncer standing over her. "You
done?" she growled.

"Yeah," said Pariah, getting up. The half-ogre grabbed the bodies and started hauling them towards
the door. They'd be pitched out on the street for the Flaming Fist to deal with, and of course
nobody in the bar would remember anything happening there. That blood on the floor? Yeah, that's
been there for years.

She stopped at the bar to leave a few gold coins for the barkeep. "For the trouble," she said. He
grunted and swept them off the counter. She then joined the other women; an ale was already
waiting for her. As she sat down, Rowan said, "Let me check your wound real quick. Make sure
it's stopped bleeding." She leaned down to lift the tiefling's shirt and then gasped. Pariah looked
down in surprise. "Sorry," the acolyte said. "I forgot about your markings."

Pariah could see a lot of the infernal script was exposed. It was the side that wasn't exposed to the
room, so she decided to let Rowan continue. "I can say some more healing prayers in the morning,"
Rowan said as she looked it over. "Let me put a bandage on it."

"It's fine," said Pariah firmly as she pushed her shirt back down. Rowan hesitated but backed off.

Pariah divvied up the takings into four piles as fair as she could make them and pushed one in front
of each woman. Lythienne scooped hers up. Rowan and Farima hesitated, the Calishite looking at
the valuables like they were something in the street she didn't want to step in. "Give it to your
temples, if you like." Pariah had felt a little bad that she hadn't shared the priest's possessions even
though they had turned down her offer. "I insist," she said firmly.

Rowan took hers, and finally Farima followed suit. "It's later," she said. "Tell me what happened.
Tell me you did not take another soul." Her voice was low but angry.

"I didn't," Pariah said hotly. "It wasn't the same. Not at all. It didn't feel sick and wrong. It
was...healing. Sort of."

"It wasn't the same," Rowan said. "It didn't have that taint of corruption."

Farima pursed her lips. "Very well. I will admit it did not carry the same sense of evil. But that
doesn't change that you seemed to pull something out of him when you killed him. What was it?"

"A gift," said the dark voice in her head, and goose bumps rose on her skin.

Pariah stiffened. She looked at the other women, feeling herself start to panic. "What is it?" asked
Rowan in concern.

She knew she had to tell them, to be honest. "He's speaking to me," she said in a whisper.

"What is the evil one saying?" Farima grated.

Pariah put up a hand to forestall her. "What kind of gift?" she asked.

"The gift of life, of course."

Afraid to ask, she said, "Was it part of his soul?"

"Of course not. I would never waste something so valuable on you." Pariah felt relief and shook her
head at the other women. "No," Levistus continued, "his soul went to the City of Judgment. What
you got was a small bit of his life force before it diffused out into the universe, lost forever. It does
not heal you, but it strengthens you for a time. You will get this boon every time you kill an
opponent with the weapon that was my first gift to you."

"Why?" she asked.

"I reward those who serve me well, and you have. And I wish you to serve me again."

"I won't," she said through grated teeth.

"Hear my offer. Then decide. If you refuse, then I shall be on my way."

She scanned the faces of the other woman. Lythienne looked curious, Rowan looked concerned,
and Farima looked angry. "Fine. Talk."

"The place you go, the lair of the Dead Three. There you will find a man. A large man, bald and
scarred, by the name of Mortlock Vanthampur." Suddenly she had a memory of him, even though
she had never met him. "Save him. In return, I will grant you more power."

Pariah's brow furrowed. "Save him? Not kill him. Not claim his soul."

"Yes. Save him."

"Why? Is he one of your worshipers?"

"Do we have a deal?"

Pariah frowned. To the waiting women she said, "He wants us to save someone in the lair of the
Dead Three. Someone named Mortlock Vanthampur."

"Vanthampur," said Rowan. "Like the duke?" Pariah gave her a blank look. Rowan sputtered a bit
and said, "Duke Thalamra Vanthampur is one of Council of Four who runs this city." Pariah
shrugged. She never really cared which nob was in charge. It's not like any of them treated the filth
better than the others. Rowan asked, "Does he say who this Mortlock is? Or why he wants you to
save him?"

Pariah shook her head. "No, just that he's there. And he sent me an image of what he looks like.
Big and bald."

Farima's eye's narrowed. "And that's all?" she asked suspiciously.

Pariah put her hands out defensively. "Hey, I find it hard to believe, too. But that's all he's asking."

Lythienne asked, "And what do you get in return?"

"Yeah, what do I get?" she asked, directing the question back at Levistus. "You're being pretty
vague about that. What does 'more power' mean?"

There was a pause and she thought he might not answer, but then she shivered as he spoke again. "I
will expand your understanding of the power I have granted you. Among other things this magic
will allow you to disguise your form, and will expand your ability to read the intentions of others,
to know what to say to win them to your desires."

"I don't want to control people's minds," she growled. There was nothing worse to her than to take
away someone's ability to make their own decisions.
"Nothing so crude," the devil chuckled. "No, you will simply be more articulate, more sensitive to
their desires, better able to know what they want."

Pariah frowned. When things sounded too good to be true, they usually were. "You still haven't
answered what you get out of this. Who is this man?"

"What I get out of this is a loyal servant. You."

"I'm not your servant," she snarled.

He chuckled again. "I foresee a mutually profitable relationship between us. From time to time, I
will ask you to perform a task. In return, I will reward you. Then, like now, you may refuse the
task. Of course you also refuse the reward."

Pariah drained her mug and signaled for another. To the other women she said, "He says he'll grant
me more magical power. He insists that all he wants is for me to rescue this man. And...he says he
will have other jobs for me in the future. He claims I can refuse to do them, but that's probably a
lie."

Farima said grudgingly, "The devils do not lie, but they do mislead. Their truths often are more
deceptive than outright falsehoods. I counsel you against accepting his aid. Even if he gives you
what he claims, and even if his tasks seem mundane or even beneficial, helping an immortal evil
being does not bode well for anyone."

"Do I have to answer you now?" she asked him

"No. Find the man. Save him or do not. If you choose to save him, you will have my gift."

She shook her head at the others. "Look, I don't know how I feel about this either. But we are going
into tunnels to find out about the Dead Three, right?" The other three looked at each other and then
nodded. "So we go. See what happens. Decide at the time if we are going to save him, not because
some voice in my head tells us to, but because we decide to. All right?"

Rowan and Lythienne seemed agreeable, but Farima's face was still clouded. "If he wants the man
to be saved, then we should kill him," she said firmly.

"Unless that's what Levistus really wants," said Lythienne. Farima looked puzzled. "You said they
mislead," the elf observed. "Well, maybe he knows we'll do the opposite of what he says. Maybe he
really wants this man dead. Or he wants us to just walk away and not go into the bathhouse. Or
maybe he wants something completely different that we will happen to do on our way to save this
man. I know countless stories where the hero is manipulated by such half-truths."

Farima considered that and then looked defeated. "Yes. It is impossible for mortals to plumb the
minds of the infernals. Their plans span centuries and we cannot understand them."

Lythienne said, "So that's why we make the decision. All right?"

"Very well," Farima sighed. "But let us not forget our mission for the Flaming Fist. We are to stop
these Dead Three attacks. If this man is behind it, killing him may be what needs to be done."

She turned back to Pariah. "You still haven't answered my original question. What happened when
you killed the pirate captain?"

"Oh, well he said it wasn't his soul or anything like that. He said it was...his leaking life force?"
She shrugged. "Something like that. He said it will happen if I strike the killing blow on someone."
Farima looked skeptical, but Rowan nodded. "That makes sense. When a person dies, there is a life
essence that seeps out. It's kind of like spiritual blood. It's not the person, not the soul, but it
supports the soul like blood supports the body. One of the prayers I know can stem that loss of
essence, stabilizing a mortally injured creature for a time even if the body is ready to die." She
thought for a moment. "I think he's telling the truth. Now that Pariah has described it like that, I
admit that energy did seem similar to the energy I have encountered the few times I've used that
prayer."

Farima pursed her lips. "I do not like taking aid of any kind from one of the infernal ones."

"You aren't," Pariah said a bit sharply. "I am. Now can we just finish our drinks?"

Lythienne perked up. "That's a plan I can get behind," she said, raising her wine glass.

"I assume we aren't going to check out the bathhouse tonight," said Pariah.

"I think that would be best," said Rowan. "We are tired. We got lucky in the fight tonight. We
should rest and maybe visit the bathhouse as customers tomorrow. See what we can see."

They finished their drinks and agreed to meet at the bathhouse in the morning. Lythienne wanted to
stay at the tavern for a bit but the others decided to head out and go home. The three of them exited
into the dimly lit street. As they were saying their goodnights, movement caught Pariah's eye. She
saw a figure step out of the shadows and a prickling started down her spine. "Talona's tits," she
said, drawing her blade. "Rowan, go get Lythienne. I think we are going to need her."

"Huh?" said the acolyte. She looked in the direction Pariah was looking. "Oh, no," she said. She
hurried back to the door of the tavern. "Lythienne," she yelled inside. "We need you out here.
Now!"

"There is another one behind you," said Farima. She raised her staff and it burst into bright
illumination. "Step forth into the light, pirates!" she said.

Pariah had assumed the same, that these were pirates out to avenge their captain. As the woman she
saw came out from the shadows, Pariah realized she was wearing chainmail, heavy armor for a
sailor. She also had a black hand painted on her shield. "Die, enemies of Bane!" the stranger
snarled as she charged forward, mace in hand.

Pariah was focused on the one in front of her. She was worried about the one behind, especially
since Farima was the only other one of them still in the street. However on the edge of her vision
she saw Lythienne come out of the tavern, sigh "Really?" in exasperation, and then move up to
engage the other.

Pariah sent a freezing bolt towards the charging woman, but she blocked it with her shield. The
woman closed and swung her mace, smashing it into Pariah's arm. The tiefling felt cold anger
rising up in her, and suddenly the woman was engulfed in a frigid whirlwind for a few seconds,
leaving frost on her armor and exposed face. Pariah wasn't sure where that had come from, but the
woman looked shaken.

The tiefling stabbed with her rapier, avoided the shield but the point glanced off the armor
underneath. In return she took another hit from the mace, and gasped as it knocked the breath out of
her. Pariah reached out and slapped the woman's shoulder, willing the cold forth, and the icy beam
penetrated her armor easily. The woman struck back but her movements were starting to slow from
the cold magic and Pariah dodged the blow.
She heard the battle going on behind her but assumed the other were handling it; certainly none of
them were helping her. A cry of victory came from Lythienne, and the elf came around Pariah's left
side to strike at the attacker. The target avoided it, but all four women were now focused on the
remaining enemy. The minion of Bane struck out blindly and caught Pariah a blow on the side of
her head. The tiefling staggered and then felt the world fade as she collapsed to the ground.

The world was dark when Pariah awoke. Well, to a human it would have been. Pariah's eyes could
see a dim black-and-white image as she sat up and looked around. She was in an unfamiliar and
sparsely furnished bedroom. She looked down and saw Rowan sleeping on a mat on the floor next
to the simple cot Pariah was in. The tiefling looked down at herself and saw she was covered with
a blanket. Under that she was in her underwear, her infernal tattoos exposed. Her wound from the
pirates had been cleaned and bandaged.

She saw a stack of what looked like her things on top of a small table in the corner. She didn't see
any easy way to get out of the cot with Rowan lying there, so Pariah stretched her leg down and
poked her with a toe.

Rowan woke up with a start. She looked up at Pariah and said sleepily, "Oh, hi. You're awake."
She sat up and stretched. "How are you feeling?"

"Achy," said the tiefling. "Where are we?"

"At the temple. This is my cell. The other two are in guest quarters here."

Pariah swung her legs out of bed. "So what happened?"

Rowan got up and stretched again. "The other one went down pretty quick after you fell. She was
dead." She reached down to spark the lamp by the bed so the room was dimly lit. She sat on the
cot next to Pariah. "The first one was alive so we questioned him a bit until the Flaming Fist
showed up. He said they were after us for the death of the priest." She frowned. "He said there will
be others. That was one reason we decided to all come back here. It might be best for us to stay
together for a bit. If they'd ambushed one of us alone..." She shook her head. "Anyhow, once the
Fist showed up, they took him into custody. We carried you here and got you some healing."

"Thanks," Pariah said as she stood. She walked over to her clothes and started dressing.

"You don't have to rush off," said Rowan with a yawn. "Go back to sleep. You need your rest."

"It's not that," said Pariah. "I just don't feel comfortable...well...showing this to people." She waved
vaguely at the writing on her body.

Rowan stared at it for a bit before meeting her gaze again. "For what it's worth, it doesn't bother
me. I mean it's a little surprising at first, but it's not something you have to hide."

Pariah finished dressing. The woman seemed to be genuine. "Maybe," she said. "I still feel better
covered up."

Rowan shrugged. "All right. I understand."

"Is everyone else OK?" Pariah asked as she returned to sit next to Rowan.

"Yes. You seem to be the damage magnet of the group," she teased.

"Only because I can't move as fast as that elf," she chuckled. She looked over at her armor. "I may
need to buy something better than that, though."

Rowan nodded. "I like the light chain I wear. I'm still pretty maneuverable, but it turns a blade
better than leather."

"I was surprised to see you wearing that," Pariah admitted. "Not exactly standard for a temple
acolyte."

"Temple priest," Rowan said, a little embarrassed. "I got a promotion." Pariah raised her eyebrows.
"After the head priest disappeared under mysterious circumstances," Rowan said dryly, "there was
a shift. It left a low level vacancy and I was next in line."

"Congratulations," Pariah said.

Rowan shrugged. "I guess. I really was next in line, I've worked towards it for a long time, but
knowing how I got it leaves a bad taste. I mean he deserved it, but I don't like profiting from
something like that." Then, to change the subject, she said, "But the armor has a different story."

She settled back against the wall. "I left the temple for a while. I saw adventurers come and go and
I wanted more. I felt I could help, more than just a mumbled prayer before a group goes out to face
their deaths. Fortune favors the bold. So I joined some of them." She waved the stump of her arm.
"It didn't go well."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Pariah said. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

Rowan smiled. "No, it's fine. It was a while ago. A group was headed into Ramazith's Tower. Have
you heard of it?"

Pariah's brow furrowed. "Some haunted tower in the Upper City, right?"

"Sort of. Used to belong to a wizard who died mysteriously. The tower stayed empty for decades
until it was bought by a young mage. However, apparently the upper levels are quite dangerous so
he funds expeditions to explore it. I went along with one, hoping to bring Tymora's blessing to
them. Long story short, we got ambushed by something, I'm still not sure what. It was dark and
confusing. Three of us made it out; two didn't. I lost my arm. Another ended up at the Church of
Lost Hope. The third retired." She looked lost for a moment. "Huh, to Elturel. I hadn't put that
together before. I wonder if she got out." She shook her head. "There is something wrong with this
city. Something is just broken, and I don't know what it is. It didn't used to be like this here. Too
many creatures in the sewers and things stalking the streets and towers full of horrors. Murder is so
commonplace it's barely worth noticing anymore. And not normal murders. Bodies ripped to shreds
while still carrying their gold. People suddenly striking down their loved ones for no reason. There
is madness here. No city should be like that."

She started to sink into a funk and then shook herself out of it. "Sorry, getting a little maudlin
there."

"No reason to be sorry." Pariah shrugged. "I mean I know this city is shit, but it's the only place
I've ever been. Well, since my mother left me, and my memories of before that are pretty hazy. I
don't know what the rest of the world is like. I'd like to think this isn't normal, but it's all I know."

"There are definitely better places than Baldur's Gate," Rowan assured her. "Sometimes I think
about leaving, but this is the place that needs me the most." She yawned.

Pariah stood, "Why don't you go back to sleep? I feel bad for taking your bed."
 "No, I'm fine. You are wounded, you should have the bed."

"I feel a lot better now. Besides, I'm not going to go back to sleep." She reached out and picked up
her sword in its sheath. "I think I'm going to go out and practice a bit. Loosen up. If we are going to
the bathhouse today, I want to be ready."

"Well, all right. They'll serve breakfast in a bit. I'll come get you and the others." Rowan settled
into the bed, and Pariah quietly exited the room as she strapped on the scabbard.

Chapter End Notes

I ran the first battle in the tavern as written and they got slaughtered, so I decided to
have the pirates attack in waves. I also had to consider that the battle outside was
coming up so they needed not to be too banged up. My first try at the battle scene was
pretty bad. You could see the initiative order. I rewrote it to hit the highlights and it's
better. I still like using some die rolls to shape the story, but that doesn't mean it
should read like a D&D session.

For story purposes, I've extended the effect of Spare the Dying to have a minor wound
treatment effect. It doesn't do any healing, but it addresses the issue of providing some
kind of first aid to someone who's been stabbed in combat but not enough to be worth a
real healing spell. It's the magical equivalent of Band-Aids and aspirin. In a later
chapter, it will serve as a hangover cure. It's purely a cosmetic thing, no actual game
effect.

I'm currently writing 13 chapters ahead of what I'm posting and that gave me the
opportunity to realize something recently: Lythienne's character was not working. She
didn't have a solid role in the group outside of combat, and she had no real motivation
to follow the story line. She's not a bad character, she just didn't fit in the story.

I spent several days trying to figure out who she should be and fleshing out her history
some more. I'm much happier with the fit now. I'm now having to rewrite parts of
what I've done, but most of that is work that hasn't been posted yet. I've gone back and
tweaked the conversation in Chapter 3 a bit, though it's not worth going back and re-
reading the chapter. I didn't change anything major, just adjusted her role in the
conversation a bit to fit the changes to her character. I'm hoping I don't have to retcon
posted chapters too much in the future.
 A Hidden Tunnel
Chapter Summary

Acting on the information provided by Captain Zodge's agent, the group investigates a
nearby bathhouse to find evidence of the death cult.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah sparred with herself in the cool pre-dawn light of the temple courtyard. She was feeling
more comfortable with the blade. It felt like an extension of her arm rather than a length of metal
she was swinging around. With the money she had gotten from the priest, she had taken some
lessons at Garmult's. He was a retired gladiator who ran a weapons school, and occasionally had
lines on bodyguarding and other jobs. Pariah was still trying to figure out where her path was, and
only just getting used to the idea of not being a beggar and pickpocket.

She had managed a good workout when Rowan came to find her. "They are getting ready to serve
breakfast," said the acolyte...no, Pariah reminded herself, the priest. Rowan led her out of the
courtyard and showed her to the dining room. There, along with the other three, she was served a
simple meal of porridge, bread and jam. Lythienne was pleased to see Pariah up and around, and
even Farima gave her an almost friendly grunt. The four of them didn't talk much; none of them
felt comfortable discussing their plans for the day with others around. When they were finished,
they gathered their things and met outside.

Following Rowan's advice, they didn't head straight for the bathhouse. Instead they went to the
Wide, the large marketplace in the Upper City, to stock up on supplies. They bought healing
potions, and Pariah invested in a suit of light chainmail. Thus prepared, they headed for the Lower
City and the bathhouse.

The bathhouse was a twenty foot tall stucco building with stained glass windows and clay roof
tiles. Ten-foot walls enclosed a large courtyard outside the southeast corner of the building. The
closed wooden doors to the courtyard were engraved with images of smiling nymphs dancing and
frolicking in water. There was nothing overtly suspicious about the place. They pushed the outer
doors open and entered an L-shaped courtyard featuring a trimmed lawn and nicely manicured
shrubbery. The yard was decorated with white marble benches and stone fountains, each in the
form of a smiling nymph tipping a jug that spilled water into a circular stone basin. At the other
end of the L was the door into the bathhouse itself, which they entered.

The walls of this twenty-foot-high pillared chamber were adorned with frescoes of bathing royalty.
Natural light streamed through stained glass windows, creating colorful patterns on the tiles of
polished blue marble that cover the floor. Three shallow, sunken pools held scintillating perfume-
scented water. White marble benches bearing stacks of dry towels were situated near the three
pools, each of which was equipped with a pair of brass faucets.

Two bathers were in the chamber, each in a separate pool. One was a male human about 40 with
curly auburn hair and beard, and rough, dark skin. The other was an elderly gnome woman with
gray hair that was cropped close to her skull. Both bathers ignored the newcomers.
Towards the back were two doors, one open and one closed. "Those are the massage chambers,"
said Lythienne. "One must be occupied."

Rowan asked, "Are the masseuses the only staff?" Lythienne nodded and Rowan said, "How about
if I go get a massage? I can question the masseuse and look around the room."

"For a sign that says, 'This way to the dungeon'?" asked Lythienne lightly.

"Something like that," chuckled Rowan. "If the other massage room opens up, one of you could try
the same there."

She headed off and Lythienne started to undress. "What are you doing?" asked Farima.

Lythienne paused to raise an eyebrow. "It's a bathhouse. What do you think I'm doing? Not only
would I enjoy a bath, it's going to look awfully suspicious if we just stand around with armor and
weapons."

Farima pursed her lips. "Good point," she said and started to undress as well. After a moment, they
both looked at Pariah.

"No," she said. They looked confused and, with an annoyed gesture, she pulled down the edge of
her glove to reveal her tattoos. Lythienne nodded in understanding.

The two women slipped into the empty pool. Pariah sat on the marble bench for a bit, feeling out of
place. She thought about waiting outside but decided to make herself useful. She eyed the man and
then decided to head to the bench by the elderly gnome woman.

The woman eyed her as she approached and nodded a greeting. "You can join me if you like," she
said in a raspy voice.

"Thanks, but I'm fine," Pariah said with a smile. She went to sit on the bench by the pool. The
gnome shifted position to face her, but not before Pariah caught site of a nasty scar down her back.
To the gnome she said, "You don't mind sharing a bath with one of my kind?"

The gnome cackled. "Honey, I don't care if you're one of the zombies from Cliffside, as long as you
behave yourself. I've known some tieflings. Good ones and bad ones. Not really any different from
the rest of us."

"Have you lived here in Baldur's Gate long?"

"I don't live here at all. I was just passing through when I got trapped by this damned lockdown.
Still, I was headed for Elturel to see my brother, so I guess I should count myself lucky."

"Oh, I'm sorry about your brother."

"Ha!" she said. "Don't be. He was an ass."

Pariah grinned. "Where will you go when the city opens up?"

The gnome shrugged. "Anywhere I can find work. I've heard about a few opportunities here, but it
sounds like Nine-Fingers has this place a little too sewn up for my liking."

"Ah," said Pariah sagely. "That kind of work."

The gnome cocked her head. "You do any of that kind of work yourself? Got any ins with the
Guild?"
Pariah shook her head. "I'm Outer City filth. We're usually beneath their notice. Still, it sounds like
you've had your ear to the ground. Heard anything interesting about this area?"

"Interesting? Like what?"

"Like this bathhouse. I've heard some rumors about some activity around here. I wondered if it was
centered here."

The gnome looked around. "Where? There's nothing here but a couple of watery holes in the
ground."

Pariah felt disappointed. "Yeah, that's kind of what I thought. My rumors must have been wrong.
Maybe one of the other buildings nearby."

She continued to chat with the gnome for a bit but the woman had no useful information. A man
came out of the other massage room and Pariah looked over at the Farima and Lythienne. They
seemed to be discussing which of them would go for a massage when Rowan came out of her
massage room. Pariah went to join her and the other two.

"That was very productive," Rowan said. "Very good massage too," she added with a luxurious
stretch. "This bathhouse is owned by Duke Vanthampur and run by her son, Mortlock. And yes,
he's big and bald, like Pariah described."

"Hmm," said Pariah. "I wonder what Levistus wants with him. Anything else?"

"The masseuse has strict orders not to hang around after hours. He's pretty sure some shady
business is going on here at night, something the duke doesn't know about, but he doesn't know
more than that." She grinned. "At least that's what he said. I pressed him a bit and he finally opened
up that there is an odd draft in the other massage room and a faint smell of sewage. I think the
entrance to the dungeon is in there."

Four pairs of eyes turned to the door of the second massage room. "Should we come back tonight?"
asked Lythienne.

"Probably better to look now," said Pariah. "This place is more likely to be guarded at night. It
sounds like the masseuse isn't in on it, do you agree, Rowan?"

The cleric nodded. "Yes, I think he's just what he looks like, and if anything scared of Mortlock.
Certainly not cooperating."

"Then let's investigate now." The others mumbled agreement.

Lythienne and Farima dried off and got dressed, and then they headed for the other massage room.
Inside they found a human woman. She smiled at them brightly. "And which one of you would like
a massage?"

Pariah looked at her in concern. "You look tired," she said. "I think they are working you too hard
here. I'm sure a walk in the garden would do wonders for you."

The woman looked puzzled. "No, not at all. I feel quite refreshed."

"No," said Pariah more firmly. "You are tired. You want to take a walk in the garden. And that
way, when anyone asks, you can honestly say you had no idea what those strangers were doing.
Right?" She pulled silver coin out of her pouch and held it between two fingers.
The woman's expression changed to one of worry. "Oh...yes. A walk in the garden sounds lovely."
She moved to the exit, taking Pariah's offered coin. "Shall I close the door?" she asked over her
shoulder.

"Yes, thank you," said Pariah.

After she left, the four women looked around the room. The massage table was draped with clean
towels. Under the tables were bottles of liquid. Rowan said that, according to the labels, they were
perfumes.

"What's this?" asked Lythienne, peering into a corner. She pushed on a wall and it shifted slightly.
She pushed harder, and it opened on a stiff hinge. The four women gagged a bit as a strong sewer
smell came from the doorway. Through it was a narrow corridor that wrapped around the corner of
the building. They filed in, closed the door behind them and followed the hall to a steep stairway
leading down, lit by two sputtering torches in wall sconces. Farima muttered a protection spell and
a slight shimmer surrounded her body.

"Who wants to go first?" asked Rowan, her hand covering her mouth and nose in a futile attempt to
block the smell.

"I'll go," said Pariah. "I'm good at moving quietly, and this smells like home to a street rat like
me."

"No," said Lythienne reluctantly. "I'll go. We're going to get the smell regardless. And the eyes of
an elf are sharper than most."

"All right, but I'll be close behind. Farima after me. Rowan at the back. Make sure nothing comes
up behind us."

They descended into the noisome dungeon. The stairway descended about twenty feet into a dark
room; there were no torches other than the two on the stairs. Lythienne hesitated on the stairs. "It's
full of water," she whispered back. Pariah looked past her and her darkvision revealed she was
right.

"Shall I make a light?" asked Farima. "You two can see, but Rowan and I cannot."

"Wait," said Pariah. She thought about it. "Lythienne and I will scout ahead. After we've moved
into the darkness, you make your light. Follow us about thirty feet back. And I'll say it again: keep
your eyes open. Don't let anything come up behind us."

With a disgusted noise, Lythienne waded into the water. It was cold and foul, and it was hard to see
what was in it. The stairs stopped after another couple of feet, leaving the water just above their
knees. The room was empty. A dim illumination flared behind them as Farima lit up her staff.
Pariah signaled for them to wait as she and Lythienne looked around. There was a side room, small
and also empty, and a narrow hallway leading further in. She beckoned the other two and followed
Lythienne into the corridor.

The hall turned to the left and then sloped up slightly out of the water. It curved back to the right
and ended in a door of rotting wood. Lythienne approached the door and listened carefully. After a
moment she reached out and carefully turned the latch. She cracked the door open, peeked through,
and then opened it fully.

Lythienne and Pariah entered the circular room past the door. To the right was a corridor that
sloped down into the water again. Across and to the left were other doors, each with the drawing of
a man. As Rowan and Farima joined them and closed the door they had come through, Pariah saw
it had an illustration of a man as well. Rowan frowned. "The Dead Three," she whispered. She
pointed to the door they came through, decorated with the drawing of a hulking brute covered in
wounds and holding a bloody dagger. "Bhaal, god of murder". She pointed to the door to their left,
which showed a man in armor, his hand painted black. "Bane, god of tyranny." Finally she pointed
to the door ahead, which portrayed a skeletal man in black robes. "Myrkul, god of death."

"Well, I don't want to go back into the water, so I say we pick one of the doors," said Lythienne.

"Well, we came from that one," said Rowan. "Between the priest we killed and the ones who
attacked us last night, I feel like Bane is our goal."

Pariah nodded. "I kind of feel the same. I don't like not knowing what's behind us, but I guess we'll
have that problem no matter what. All right, same plan as before."

Rowan and Farima backed off through the Bhaal door, leaving it open. As their light faded with
distance, the room became dim and Lythienne opened the Bane door. She looked down the
corridor and sighed, "Ugh, more water. I guess there's no avoiding it."

They walked down the narrow corridor as it sloped down towards the water. Lythienne suddenly
stopped so the others did as well. After a moment she turned to Pariah and whispered, "There is
light ahead."

Pariah realized she could see it too. The corridor turned after it entered the water, and a dim light
could be seen there. She went back to the others. "There is light ahead," she said. "Douse that," she
nodded to Farima's staff, "and follow me." She led the women through the darkness into the dim
light. Lythienne was already knee deep in the water, peering around the corner. When the others
approached, she drew back. Pariah went to peer around the corner while she told them what she
saw.

The near part of the room was unlit, flooded, and braced with floor-to-ceiling wooden columns.
Straight ahead was a hallway that turned to the right, and another hall that exited the left wall. The
room stretched out to the right. Rough-hewn steps rose out of the murky water on that side of the
room, leading to a dry area lit by two torches in sconces that flanked a stone altar. Shackled to the
wall behind the altar was a sickly man in a loincloth. An alcove in the wall to the side of the altar
contained a free standing suit of plate armor missing its helm.

Standing in front of the altar were two grim figures with their backs to the rest of the room: a
powerfully built woman clutching a mace, and an even bigger man wearing a bucket helm. The
helmed man had a spear, and he was extending it over the alter to jab the prisoner, causing the man
to twitch and moan. Both figures were clad in chain mail, and the woman carried a wooden shield
with a leering skull painted on it. Pariah also spotted a longbow leaning on a wall and a quiver on
the woman's back.

The others joined Pariah. Lythienne looked out into the room again. "We could probably sneak
through to one of those tunnels in the darkness."

Pariah shook her head. "The water would ripple. Plus I'm not leaving that man to be tortured."
Farima grunted agreement.

"Well, then," said Lythienne, "I've learned some minor magic that I use when I'm performing.
Nothing spectacular, but I could probably distract them with an illusion. Get them to keep their
backs to us while we attack."
Pariah nodded thoughtfully. "That could work. All right, go ahead."

While the rest of the group waited, Lythienne crept forward in the darkness until she was near a
post. She stood still for a bit and then her mouth started to move. "Kneel before me, disciples!" a
voice boomed from the altar.

The two figures jumped at the sound. "What the-" Pariah heard the woman say.

"You have brought me a sacrifice. Kneel and receive your reward." When the people hesitated, the
voice boomed, "Kneel!"

They did so, bowing their heads before the altar. Lythienne waved the others forward and started to
move through the water herself. Rowan mumbled, "Fortune favors the bold," and Pariah felt her
spirits rise. As the group closed, the two cultists started to realize something was happening. As
they turned, bolts of energy came from behind Pariah to slam into the woman, followed by the stab
of Pariah's rapier. Pariah felt the dark energy course up the blade as the woman died.

The man leapt to his feet and stabbed at Pariah with his spear. The point didn't penetrate the light
chainmail but it did leave a painful bruise. More bolts of energy peppered the man as both Rowan
and Farima attacked, but they just seemed to veer around him. "I think the altar is interfering with
our magic," said Rowan.

With the man distracted by Pariah, Lythienne came up behind him and hammered him with her
fists. He turned toward her, but that gave Pariah an opening to wound him with her rapier. The two
of them wore him down with their blows while bolts of energy from the other two continued to
veer around him, unable to connect. Finally, Pariah heard Rowan growl, "Dammit, Tymora is
stronger than Bane!" and a bolt slammed into his chest, finishing him.

The prisoner had watched the battle and his face lit up slightly as the second cultist fell. He opened
is mouth but Pariah motioned for him to be quiet. They listened for any hint that their battle had
alerted anyone else, but the stinking room was silent other than the drip of water. They all relaxed.

Pariah saw a ring of keys on the male cultist's belt. She took the keys and handed them to
Lythienne, who happened to be standing closest to her. "Unlock his chains," she said quietly while
she continued to search the cultists.

"Thank you," the man whispered as Lythienne came up to him. "Get me out of here and I'll see you
are all richly rewarded."

"Look out!" Farima cried, and a bolt of energy flew from her staff. Pariah looked up to see that the
gauntlets from the suit of plate armor against the wall had detached and were streaking towards
Lythienne, who was intent on unlocking the prisoner's chains. She reacted instantly, dropping the
keys and whirling to deflect one incoming gauntlet, but she took a heavy blow to her ribs from the
other one.

The gauntlets flew around quickly but the group managed to smash them before they could hit
anyone else again. Once more they hesitated, listening for sounds of alert, but heard nothing.
"Wait," whispered Pariah. She investigated the armor but the rest of the suit seemed inert. She
nodded at Lythienne, and the elf picked up the keys and unlocked the prisoner.

Rowan checked the prisoner while the others kept watch. She gathered the others a few feet from
the prisoner to brief them. "He's injured and starving, but he'll be fine with a little bed rest," she
reported. "He says his father is a patriar and will reward us for his return." She paused and
continued in a lower voice. "But I'm pretty sure he's lying about that."
Pariah frowned. "So you're saying we shouldn't help him because he can't pay?" she asked in a
testy whisper.

Rowan shrugged. "No, I'm just telling you my impressions."

"We should escort him back to the entrance," said Farima.

Rowan made an indecisive noise. "A freed prisoner might alert someone up there that we are up to
no good. Maybe the masseuses aren't in on this, but someone might still be watching the bath
house."

"I'm not going to leave him here," Pariah said. "And I'm not going to send him back alone."

"Take him with us?" said Lythienne. "If he stays out of the way he'll probably be fine until we get
out of here."

They exchanged glances but there was a mumble of agreement. "Let's take some time to dress our
wounds and his and then move on. I don't want anyone to see us here."

Rowan questioned the prisoner, whose name was Klim Jhasso, as she tended his wounds. "Yeah,"
he said. "I remember seeing a big bald guy. He went through that door over there." He pointed at
the far end of the room to a wall hidden in shadow.

"When?" asked Rowan.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Couple hours ago? I'm really not sure. I've kind of lost track of time
here. A bunch of other guys went through more recently though. Not too long before you guys got
here."

"Other guys?"

"Yeah, a half dozen of those cultists. One of them, well, I mean they were in shadows but I'd swear
his head was just a skull. Some kind of mask I guess."

Rowan and Pariah exchanged glances. "Yeah," Rowan said. "Probably a mask."

Klim furrowed his brow. "You know, it was funny. The big man doused his torch in the water
before he opened the door. I didn't really notice it at the time. I had other problems. But then I saw
the other guys did it, too. They put the torches out before opening the door."

"Any idea why?" Rowan asked. The man shook his head.

"Sewers sometimes build up gas," Pariah said. "I knew a crew that used to get around the city
through the sewers. They said the gas was a real problem. They were always looking to buy
magical light sources."

Rowan looked concerned. "How dangerous is it?"

"As long as we don't have an open flame, we should be fine. I mean you don't want to stand in a
pocket forever. You'll get dizzy and pass out. But it's not actually poison. We'll just have to move
through quickly."

Klim wasn't happy about their plan to have him tag along. He kept insisting that big rewards
awaited them once they got him back home. The more he insisted, the more Pariah agreed with
Rowan that he was lying. That didn't make him unworthy of rescue, and Pariah had to admit she
 would have lied if it meant getting out of a place like this, but it didn't sit well with her.

Before they left, they dragged the bodies into the water. Anyone who looked closely would see
blood stains, but the dais had many blood stains already. In this dim light, the bodies wouldn't be
obvious. Rowan also stopped to mumble a prayer and pour a vial of holy water over the altar to
Bane. The water steamed as it touched the stone and Pariah felt like the air became less oppressive,
though she knew that might have been her imagination.

Now ready, they moved into the cold water and towards the door the prisoner had pointed out.

Chapter End Notes

God, I hated this chapter. Dungeon crawls are just boring and I found it hard to come
up with a real story. I ended up having them beeline to Mortlock and skip a bunch of
content, which in turn made the journey kind of low risk. On the other hand, taking a
long rest either in or out of the dungeon would give the bad guys plenty of time to
realize something was going on and prepare better defenses. Plus, lots of battles don't
make for a good story.

That line about the altar interfering with their spells was just bad rolls on their Sacred
Flames. The fact that cultists get advantage on saves make that spell not that useful.

Note, this chapter was originally called "A Secret Tunnel" but every time I'd read that,
I'd hear

Secret tunnel!
Secret tunnel!
Through the mountain!
Secret, secret, secret, secret tunnel! Yeah!
 A Bold Rescue
Chapter Summary

Having found the hidden door beneath the bathhouse, the party ventures deeper into
the fetid sewers to discover who is behind the death cult.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

At Pariah's suggestion, Farima did not reignite her staff as they approached the door. Pariah wanted
to scout out the area past the opening first to see if anything was waiting before they announced
their presence.

She and Lythienne went through the door first, their vision sharp in the darkness. It led into
another flooded room, about fifteen feet across and twice that wide. The ceiling was supported by
rotting wooden beams, one of which was noticeably sagging under the weight of the earth above.
The room was empty save for some debris that had been pushed against the walls. To their left was
a hallway that seemed to curve back in the direction they had come. Ahead of them was a hall that
led deeper into the complex.

Pariah inhaled and the air felt heavy in her lungs. She wondered if that meant there really was gas
or if she was just imagining it. Either way, there was no reason to stand around. Lythienne pointed
at the two exits and shrugged. Pariah shrugged back and pointed to the one ahead. "That seems to
lead deeper in, so I say try that." Lythienne nodded and headed in that direction.

Pariah stopped to turn to Farima. "Let us walk ahead and then I think it's safe to relight your staff."

The hallway turned, widened, and then turned again as it slanted up, finally taking them back out
of the water. There were three doors on the right side of the hall that stretched before them, and
another door in front of them where the hallway ended. That door had light leaking from under it
while the other doors did not. After some discussion with Lythienne, they decided to check out the
lit opening.

Lythienne pressed an ear against the door and after a few seconds slowly turned the handle. Light
spilled out as the door opened, and Lythienne gave a small intake of breath when she saw what was
inside. Pariah looked past her and felt her stomach turn. The walls and floor of the room were
streaked with splashes of blood. The limp body of an elderly human man was dangling from chains
set into the opposite wall and, as they entered, they saw the body of an elven woman hanging from
the right wall. Both of the prisoners were covered in bloody gashes. In the middle of the room was
a chair, a bloody whip draped over it, and a bucket of salt on the floor next to it.

There was a door in the left wall. Pariah motioned for Lythienne to check the door while she
scanned the room. The others entered and Rowan immediately went to check on the prisoners.
Klim stopped in his tracks when he came in and at first Pariah assumed he was shocked by the
carnage. "Effinax," he said as he saw the body of the old man.

"You know him?" asked Pariah.

"Yes," he said, his voice numb with shock. "He is in charge of my father's caravans. I don't
understand. He wasn't with me when I was abducted. Are they targeting us? Why? We have no
money to give them." He suddenly looked guilty and met Pariah's eyes.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "We aren't rescuing you for the reward."

Klim dropped his eyes. "My father really is a patriar," he said defensively. "It's just...well...business
has not been good ever since he got sick. And my brothers are already fighting over what little
inheritance there will be. I'm sorry. I just want to get out of here." His voice was shaking.

"I know," Pariah sighed. "We'll get you home. Do you know her?" She pointed to the elven
woman.

Klim looked at her and shook his head.

"Whoever she is," Rowan said, examining her, "she's alive. Not by much, though." She looked over
at Klim. "The other one is dead. I'm sorry."

Klim nodded gloomily. Pariah remembered the keys she had taken from the cultist and was pleased
to discover that they unlocked the woman's manacles. They lowered her to the floor and Rowan
started to pray over her. The woman's eyes opened and she jumped a bit when she saw the group
standing over her.

"Not what I was expecting to see the next time I woke up," she said dryly. She sat up against the
wall and looked them over. "Not that I'm complaining, but who in the Hells are all of you?"

"We are working with the Flaming Fist, investigating the attacks by the Dead Three," said Rowan.
"We can escort you out of here once we finish what we came to do."

"And when is that going to be? I'm a little impatient to get away from the torture chamber."

"Well," said Lythienne lightly, "the exit is that way." She jerked her head at the door they had
come in. "Somewhere."

The woman studied Lythienne for a bit. The prisoner said something in Elvish to Lythienne, who
responded in the same language. The woman said something else and Rowan's eyebrows raised.
"Rude!" she said.

The prisoner looked surprised and then chuckled. "Sorry. I have kind of a dark sense of humor."

"What did she say?" asked Pariah.

Rowan gave the woman a poisonous look, but said, "Never mind. Not important."

Pariah decided to drop it. "Did you see a big bald guy come through here?"

The woman nodded. "Yeah. Not sure how long ago. I was in and out of consciousness."

"And another group later?" asked Rowan.

The woman's face darkened. "Yeah. The guy with the skull head stopped to rub some salt in my
wounds while he was passing through. Just for the fun of it, you know."

"Skull head," said Rowan. "Like a mask?" Her tone was not hopeful.

"No," said the prisoner. "Not like a mask."

"So these two," said Pariah, motioning to Klim and the dead prisoner, "were from the same patriar
family. What about you?"

"Me? No. I work for the Oathoons, distributing beer and wine for them in the Lower City. That's
where I got snatched."

"What did they want?"

She shrugged and then winced. "They hadn't started questioning me yet. They were just softening
me up I guess. However they asked the other guy a lot of stuff about Jhasso family operations, so I
imagine they were going to ask me about the Oathoons."

Rowan finished her ministrations and said, "Perhaps we should get moving."

The woman stood slowly, grunting a bit at the effort. "Are you sure I can't talk you guys into
leaving?"

Pariah shook her head. "We have to find who's behind this."

The woman sighed. "Well, in that case, I'll tell you that several times I've heard a sound through
that door." She pointed at the door they hadn't gone through yet. "Sometimes they leave it open if
they are in a hurry. A scraping of stone on stone, followed by splashing footsteps, and then more
stone on stone."

"Hidden door?" said Pariah.

"Probably. My name is Vendetta Kress, by the way."

"Pariah," the tiefling said. The others quickly introduced themselves and then Lythienne moved to
the door. She listened and then slowly opened the door.

Pariah could see a short corridor that immediately turned right down some stairs. The corridor was
lit only by the torch light from the torture room, and another light source from down the stairs.
Lythienne crept forward and peered around the corner, quickly pulling her head back. She came
back. "One guard," she whispered. "Kind of a strange place to be standing, just in the middle of the
hall. Probably where the door is."

"Just one?" said Rowan, and Lythienne nodded. "Let's try this then. I can cloud his mind, convince
him I'm a friend, and then we can question him." She caught Pariah's expression and said, "You
don't agree?"

Pariah pursed her lips and said, "I don't like the idea of controlling people's minds."

"It's not like that," said Rowan. "He'll just think I'm a friend. I can't force him to do anything. It's
like a magical lie."

Pariah thought about it and finally nodded reluctantly.

Rowan moved quietly down the hall and peeked around the corner. She mumbled something while
she gripped her holy symbol and then, with a deep breath, stood and stepped out from cover. "Hi
there," she said cheerfully.

A confused man's voice said, "Oh, uh, hi."

"I'm looking for Mortlock Vanthampur. Have you seen him?"

"Well, yeah. He's through here."

"Oh, good. My friends and I needed to speak with him about something." She beckoned the others
forward.

Pariah came around the corner and saw a cultist standing at the bottom of the stairs, at a turn in the
hall. His brow furrowed as he saw them. "You really shouldn't have any visitors here," he said in an
unsure voice.

"It's okay," Rowan assured him. "Mortlock asked me to bring them to him. They are part of...well,
I really shouldn't tell you, but I know I can trust you." The man, still looking puzzled, smiled at
that. She continued as she walked towards him, "There's kind of a big thing in the works. It's going
to really expand the organization's influence throughout the city. So he's just through here?" She
motioned to the wall and the man nodded. "Great, then we'll just be on our way. Do me a favor,
though. This is still supposed to be secret, so don't tell anyone we came through here. Okay?"

"Of course," the man said. He pushed on the wall and it pivoted away from him. "He should be just
through there. Probably meeting with those other folks."

"They came through here, too?" Rowan asked, a little nervousness in her voice. "Good, good.
We're all here then. Thanks for your help." She winked at him. "I'll be sure to tell everyone how
helpful you've been." The man beamed as they all filed past him.

Past the door, the hall descended back into the water. They waded in and the light faded as Rowan
pulled the door shut behind them, wishing the cultist well as she did so. Farima lit up her staff to
reveal a wide, flooded corridor leading forward. They could see light ahead and as they advanced
they sensed something else: the sounds of battle.

Lythienne and Pariah moved ahead. The wide corridor turned to the left after about fifty feet and
they came around the corner to see it led into a wider, torch-lit room where a huge, bald man with a
nasty burn scar on his face was in battle with two men, one whose head appeared be nothing but a
bare skull. As they closed quietly, the bald man's club smashed into the cultist with the normal
head, and he dropped into the water. Two other corpses were partially submerged in the area.

The skull-headed man moved to get position on the big man, but as he did, he spotted the others.
"These reinforcements won't help you," he snarled. "The disciples of Bhaal will have your life,
Mortlock." He dodged a blow by the big man and then darted away, sloshing through the water
towards a set of stairs leading up.

The bald man turned to see the newcomers. He was badly wounded, but obviously still had a lot of
fight in him. He looked confused, and then looked back and forth between them and the retreating
man. "You aren't with him?" he asked the group in a gravely voice.

"We're not," said Pariah, her blade out.

The big man looked back but the skull-headed man had disappeared up the stairs. "I don't want to
fight you," he said. He lowered his club. "I was betrayed. If you hadn't come along..." He shook his
head. "I owe you my life."

The others had moved up to join Pariah and Lythienne. Everyone was still on guard. The man
loomed over her, a tower of muscle and scars now decorated with blood, his own and that of his
enemies. She lowered, but didn't sheathe, her rapier and the others also relaxed just a bit.

"You're Mortlock?" she asked.

"Yeah. Who are you?"

"We're possibly here to rescue you," she said.

"Possibly?" he asked as his brow furrowed. "Who sent you?"

"Does it matter?" she replied.

"It does if it has anything to do with your decision whether or not to rescue me."

Pariah studied him. He seemed sincere. "We are here to stop the attacks from the Dead Three. If
you are in charge of that, then we might have a problem."

Mortlock looked relieved and shouldered his club. "That? Hells, I'll help you with that. This place
ran itself. I was sent to keep an eye on it, at least until those bastards betrayed me. Look, get me out
of here and I'll give you two things that will help you stop them. First, their treasury is right there."
He pointed. A short flight of steps led up out of the water to a raised dais holding four chests.
"Take that and they are broke. It will be hard for them to continue operations until they can get
more money. I'll even help you carry it out. Second, once we are out of here I'll tell you who's
really behind this and how you can get an advantage against them. Deal?"

Pariah gathered the others a short distance away to talk, while keeping an eye on Mortlock. The
two rescued prisoners watched nervously, both of them scanning the area for enemies. Mortlock
said, "Look, we may not have much time. He's fallen back to the main gathering place, planning to
make a stand. I'd rather not go after him. He's damn strong, stronger than me. He's going to come
back when he realizes we aren't chasing him."

"I'm reluctant to trust this man," said Farima in a low voice. "He's clearly part of this, and the fact
that a devil wants him alive compounds my suspicions."

"The fact that the cultists were trying to kill him speaks in his favor," observed Lythienne.

Rowan studied Mortlock. "This man doesn't exactly scream 'evil mastermind' to me. Bad guy,
yeah. But killing him or hauling him in front of Zodge isn't going to stop the cult, and that's our real
goal here."

Pariah was lost in thought. When she didn't speak, Farima said coldly, "I suppose you want to keep
him alive for your master."

"He's not my master," she bristled. "But they're right. He's obviously not the one behind the Dead
Three attacks. Agreed?"

Farima grumbled but said, "Yes, I agree."

"So we cut a deal and get the information we really need."

"And get out of this sewer," said Lythienne in disgust.

Three sets of eyes went to Farima. "Fine," she said. "I do not trust him, but we will accept his
conditions. However, his information better be solid and useful or I will take him to Captain Zodge
to face justice."

The group broke up and Mortlock watched them expectantly. "We accept your offer," said Pariah.

"Great," he said. "Let's grab the treasury and get out of here."
The group followed him up the stairs. He flipped open each chest. At first it seemed like a fortune,
at least until Pariah realized there was an awful lot of copper there. With the practiced eye of a
scavenger she picked out two unlabeled bottles of orange liquid with gold stoppers. She held them
up and examined them. The air space above the liquid was smoky. "What's this?"

Mortlock shrugged, but Farima took one and studied it, turning it back and forth to see how it
flowed. Then she popped off the gold stopper and took a tentative sniff of the smoke that drifted
out. "Fire breathing potions, I believe."

Pariah put the potions as well as the most valuable objects into two of the chests. "This is the best
of it," she said. There was plenty of silver, gems, a porcelain dragon mask and a five-spired crown.
That should all fetch a decent price, and it was a lot less to carry.

"Guys, we have company!" said Lythienne suddenly. The others looked to see the skull-headed
man coming back down the stairs.

"Shit!" said Mortlock emphatically. He heaved up one of the chests. "We have to go. Now!"

Pariah said, "Lythienne, you go first. You two," she pointed at the prisoners, "with the big guy.
Mortlock, protect them. They die, deal's off. You two," she pointed to Farima and Rowan, "get the
other chest." She darted down the stairs and looked among the debris in the water.

"What about you?" Farima asked indignantly as she and Rowan each took one handle of the chest.

"I'm going to keep him from following us," Pariah said as she found her quarry: a burned out torch.
"Let's go!" She fired a beam of icy energy at the advancing man. It struck him and, though it didn't
seem to hurt him, the cold slowed his pace a bit.

They sloshed slowly through the knee deep water. It was like being in a nightmare, running but not
progressing, but their pursuer couldn't run any faster than they could. They reached the secret door
and Lythienne pulled it open. They hurried through to find the surprised guard.

"He's not one of us!" Rowan said to the man, pointing to the skull-headed cultist. "He's a spy sent
by the Flaming Fist. Hold him off while we get help."

"You got it," he said firmly, setting himself in the doorway, mace at the ready.

The party heard combat behind them as they bolted up the stairs, around the corner and through
the torture chamber. They heard the skull-headed man shouting, "Intruders! Intruders! Stop them
or I'll sacrifice the bunch of you to Lord Bhaal." She heard a door open and many footsteps entered
the corridor behind them.

Pariah was bringing up the rear and she could see Rowan and Farima were starting to struggle with
the weight of the chest. "We just have to make it a little farther. Come on, almost there." Rowan
shot her a look that was less than grateful, but didn't say anything over her panting.

They finally reached the door that led to the room with Bhaal's altar, and that's where Pariah
stopped. "Keep going," she told the others as they passed through the door.

"What are you doing?" Rowan asked breathlessly, though she kept running.

"Slowing them down," she said. The others fled and the light from Farima's staff faded, leaving
Pariah in darkness. She heard footsteps getting closer and her darkvision revealed the skull-headed
man and four other cultists as they came into the room. She muttered a spell and the torch in her
hand sparked to life. She threw it into the room and dashed out the door.
She heard someone start to yell, "Oh sh-" and then there was a thundering explosion behind her.
The shockwave blew past her but, weakened by the turn in the hall, it just made her blue hair
flutter. She heard the crash of earth behind her, which she hadn't expected. Sparing a glance at the
rotting beams above her, she realized the structure wasn't all that stable. It was possible the whole
thing was about to come down.

Pariah managed to catch up to the others. She got a questioning look from some of them, but just
gave them a thumbs up as they ran. They heard voices of alarm down corridors they passed but
they didn't slow down. They managed to reach the exit stairs without seeing anyone else and
breathlessly climbed their way to freedom.

Lythienne pushed open the secret door into the massage room and a yelp of surprise came from the
other side. The group made their way through the narrow opening and back into the bathhouse.
The masseuse and a dwarven man desperately covering his nakedness with his long beard were
both backed into a corner of the massage room, watching the group with wide eyes. "Morning,"
said Pariah cheerfully.

Now that they were out, the group slowed their pace. They made their way into the main
bathhouse. The man who had been there was gone but the elderly gnome woman was still bathing,
and watched with raised eyebrows as the motley group parade through the place. She caught
Pariah's eye and said, "I guess you found your treasure after all."

Pariah gave her a look of mock surprise. "What are you talking about? We are just coming back
from a massage." The gnome woman chuckled and sketched a salute.

They made their way outside and stopped at the fountain just outside the main entrance when
Farima said, "Wait, I must take a brief rest. I think we are safe for a moment."

"We should be," said Mortlock as he put down the chest. "They wouldn't want to do something in
public."

"Fine," said Pariah as she splashed some water from the fountain on her face. "So start talking."

Mortlock sat down on the edge of the fountain. "My mother is the one behind the Dead Three
attacks."

"That much I figured out," said Rowan. "What I haven't worked out is why."

"She wants people to lose faith in the Flaming Fist. As the people grow restless, the city will stop
paying the Fist, and they will leave the city. No one will be left to stop her from becoming Grand
Duke. That's the second part of her plan. The first part was to send Ulder Ravengard to Elturel,
knowing he would be lost with the city. Without a leader, the Fist would lose focus."

"Wait," said Farima. "Your mother knew what was to happen to Elturel?"

He shrugged. "She hinted as much, but I don't know how. And she said that Baldur's Gate will
suffer the same fate: to be pulled down into the Nine Hells as some kind of sacrifice."

"And this is the scheme we have been drawn into by you," Farima said accusingly to Pariah.

"Hey, don't blame me," Pariah said, putting up her hands defensively. "Zodge is the one who put us
on this path. And if-" She broke off as she looked at Mortlock. Maybe it would be best not to let
him know that an archdevil was involved. "If my little friend was in on it, why would he have us
interfering with it?"
"Let's have this discussion later," said Rowan sharply. To Mortlock she said, "You said you could
tell us how to get the edge on your mother."

He nodded. "She's always hated me. Told me many times she'd kill me if she hadn't promised my
father on his death bed to take care of me." He snorted. "Maybe she finally gave up on that
promise. Or maybe it was one of my brothers, because they are up to their necks in this.

"She hates me, but she loves her other sons, and that's leverage. My oldest brother, Thurstwell, is
sickly and seldom leaves our mother's estate. You couldn't get to him easily. He spies on the city
with his imps. In fact, I'm sure he knows you are here." That remark caused them all to look around
suspiciously as he continued. "She pays the Dead Three through my other brother, Amrik, who
runs a money lending business out of a tavern called the Low Lantern. And that's my plan. You
could kill Amrik, cutting off the money supply and the cult will break up for good. You get what
you want, but she'll just find another way to strike at the city. If you really want to stop her, if you
really want to save this vile city, a better plan is to kidnap him and use him as leverage to get to my
mother at her villa and kill her." He shrugged. "Or negotiate with her, if killing makes you
squeamish. Trade his life for some kind of end to her plans."

"Can you get us into your mother's house?" Lythienne asked.

He shook his head. Bitterly he said, "Unlike my brothers, I don't have a key. Fendrick has to let me
in. The butler."

"Any other useful information?" Pariah asked.

Mortlock thought for a moment. "My mother used to manage the city's water and sewer utilities.
That's how she knew about the tunnels below the bathhouse. She is the one who ordered the
construction of the bathhouse to hide her operation there. I'm pretty sure there is something like
this under the villa, though I've never been down there."

"Could that be a way in?"

He considered that. "Maybe. The sewers are a maze, though. It would be hard to find, and it's going
to be well guarded. Honestly, I think Amrik as a hostage is going to be a more useful key than
coming in through the sewers."

Further conversation was interrupted when dark clad figures vaulted over the wall around the
courtyard. By the time the group had drawn weapons, they were backed against the fountain by
five people in black leather armor wearing stylized dragon masks and flowing cloaks. They each
brandished curved blades reminiscent of claws.

"Halt, strangers," one of them called out. "Hand over the Vanthampur thief and the treasure he stole
and we'll let you live."

There was a pause and then Mortlock said, "Who the fuck are these guys?"

"They seem to be after you," said Pariah. "Where exactly did this treasure come from?"

"I don't know. From Amrik. Probably from my mother before that."

"How are we playing this?" asked Lythienne. "I'm tempted to give them what they want."

"No," said Pariah. "We said we'd get him out of here. I don't like going back on my word."

"You just want the power your master promised," said Farima.
"Frankly, yes. And I want the money, too. That's not the point. My word has value. What would
Tyr think of you going back on your promises so easily?"

Farima shot her an angry side-eyed look but said nothing.

The masked man who had spoken before said, "Your time is up! Surrender that which is ours right
now, or die at our hands."

Pariah grimaced. "Fuck this," she mumbled and lunged forward. The man she faced was expecting
that. He dodged her thrust and slashed at her arm, cutting a shallow wound through the gap
between her sleeve and her glove. The other strangers descended on the group, but Pariah had eyes
only for the man in front of her. She fell into a defensive stance to hold off his strikes, and
managed to score a wound against him when she saw an opening. The she heard Farima chant a
spell and bolts of energy peppered the group of enemies, felling Pariah's opponent and one other,
and wounding a third.

With her opponent down, Pariah turned to survey the group. The prisoners they had liberated had
retreated behind the fountain, trapped between the fountain and the wall. Klim looked terrified;
Vendetta looked annoyed. Everyone else on both sides showed fresh wounds, but her companions
were worse off than the attackers. Mortlock was engaged with the man who appeared to be the
leader, and was being harried not only by the leader's weapon but also by a spectral claw that flew
around, finding opportunities to tear at him. The leader chanted a spell and chains of force
appeared around Mortlock, but the big man just flexed with a roar and the chains shattered and
disappeared. He slammed his opponent with a powerful blow, but took another wound in response.
Mortlock didn't seem like he had much left in him.

Pariah came up beside the one fighting Rowan and was able to plunge her rapier into the man's
side. The man fell, and Pariah felt the dark energy course up the blade and strengthen her. Rowan
shot her a grateful look.

She turned when she heard a woman bellow. Out of the bathhouse charged the elderly gnome
woman, stark naked, dripping wet and wielding a battle axe. She hacked a deep wound into the
back of Farima's opponent and he fell, and then she turned and struck at the leader. He turned to
parry the axe with his blade, but that gave Mortlock an opening. He brought his massive club
down with a bone-crunching crack, and the last of the attackers crumpled down the bloodstained
grass.

The old woman winced, growled something in gnomish, and grabbed at her hip. She dropped her
axe and grabbed at Mortlock for support. "Help me to the bench, boy," she said.

She limped painfully over and lowered herself to the white marble bench nearby. The group
watched her in a stunned silence. "Are you injured?" asked Rowan. There was blood on the old
woman's body, but it didn't seem to be her own.

"Nah, I'm fine," she grumbled. "Damn hip went out about fifteen years ago. Still gives me trouble
when I get too...ambitious." She looked at the bodies on the ground and spit. "Thought I'd seen the
last of these idiots years ago."

"You know them?" asked Pariah.

"Tangled with them a while back. Some crazy cult that worships dragons. They attacked a town I
was passing through. I helped fight them off, and then was part of the group that tracked them back
to their camp. The whole thing turned out to be part of some big operation, and when the Council
of Waterdeep got involved, I just took my profits and left. I wasn't about to get into that political
nightmare. Figured I'd retire." She grinned at the group. "Turns out retirement is damn boring. Plus
I can't hold onto money to save my life. So I still take jobs now and then. Teach the young folks
how it's done."

"You’ve definitely still got some moves," said Mortlock approvingly.

Pariah popped open one of the chests and pulled out two of the gemstones inside. She held them
out to the woman. The gnome eyed them. "I don't really need any payment," she said. Then she
took the stones with a grin. "But I won't insult you by refusing. I'm Trif, by the way."

"Pariah," said the tiefling. The rest of the group introduced themselves and the woman nodded at
each of them.

"You all better head off, then," she said. "I'm just going to sit here, enjoy the sun on my skin and
wait a few minutes for my hip to feel better."

The group waved their goodbyes, grabbed the two chests and headed for the gate, leaving the
naked gnome to sunbathe on a bench next to five corpses. Outside the gate, the streets were
crowded as the midday traffic picked up. Rowan said, "Where to? I'd invite you all back to the
temple, but I'm not sure that would be best while we have these chests."

"I have a place not too far off," said Lythienne. "We could talk there and decide our next step."

"I just want to go home," whined Klim.

"Yeah," said Vendetta, "I agree. I mean thank you all for rescuing us, but it's been kind of a long
day."

"Farima, heal him," Rowan said, nodding at Klim. She turned to Vendetta, muttered a prayer and
put her hand on the woman. A warm light enveloped her hand and Vendetta took a deep breath as
the healing magic went through her.

"Thank you," the elf breathed. Farima did the same for Klim.

Pariah reached into her pouch and pulled out a few gold coins. She put them in Vendetta's palm and
gave her an intense stare. "Escort him home, okay? You seem like you can take care of yourself.
He doesn't."

Vendetta looked over at the wretched noble and then back at her. "Fine," she sighed. "But if his
family gives a reward, I'm keeping it." She pursed her lips and said, "But seriously, thank you for
rescuing us." She looked at Klim again but the man was still in shock. "I'm sure he feels the same,"
she said to the group. The two former prisoners headed down the street in the direction of the main
gate to the Upper City.

"If you want nothing else of me," rumbled Mortlock, "I'll be on my way as well. I want to be as far
from this city as possible before my brothers make another attempt. Or my mother gets her way and
this city falls."

The group mumbled goodbyes, and he headed in the direction of the docks. Rowan turned to
Lythienne and said, "Lead the way." Rowan and Farima took the handles of one chest while
Lythienne and Pariah lifted the other.

The elf led them east into the twisting, narrow cobblestone streets of Heapside. They had walked
only about a hundred feet when Pariah felt a dark coldness sweep into her. As it permeated her
entire body, she found it hard to breathe and the world started to spin. She fell to all fours, the chest
slamming to the cobblestones as she lost her grip. She was vaguely aware of a distant voice calling,
"Pariah? Are you all right? Pariah?" Her breath formed a cloud of cold fog in front of her face and
her fingers and toes went numb as the cold intensified. Her vision blurred.

And then, just as suddenly, it passed. The world came into sharp focus and Pariah was aware of her
own shuddering breaths. Rowan was squatting in front of her, a concerned look on her face.
"Pariah?" she said again. Rowan reached out to touch Pariah's cheek and then jerked her hand back.
"Gods, your skin is like ice!" she exclaimed.

Pariah sat back on the cobblestones, her body shivering. She mumbled a spell and felt warmth
spread through her body chasing off the bone-numbing chill. "I'm fine," she said with chattering
teeth. She studied Rowan and saw her differently somehow, like her vision was suddenly sharper.
She saw the look of compassion and worry, and it was genuine, but there was also something
behind it. An emptiness. Resentment. Abandonment. Anger.

Pariah turned to look at Farima. The woman looked down at here with her usual distasteful
expression, distrust radiating out her. And yet there was also a sense of concern there, a keen
insight and thirst for knowledge, and also a hint of...guilt?

Finally she looked at Lythienne. She saw the same bright smile and cheerful demeanor she had
seen before, but behind her eyes was a fatigue of sorts there, a spark of loneliness and loss, and also
an elder wisdom. She realized the woman before her might be hundreds of years old; it was hard to
judge the age of the elves.

"What is it?" Lythienne asked self consciously.

Pariah snapped herself out of it. "Nothing," she said. She stood as Rowan offered a helping hand.
She felt the power inside was different, stronger but also changed. On instinct she drew her
weapon. She held the rapier in front of her and as she watched, the blade began to frost and white
mist rose from it. "I think Levistus has honored our deal," she said.

"And it is time to make another," said the voice inside her.

Pariah jumped, and then sighed as she sheathed her blade. "And what do you want this time?" she
asked. The group gave her a confused look, and then they realized what was happening. Farima's
face grew dark.

"You are destined for the villa of Duke Vanthampur. Inside that house is a small box of infernal
origin." Pariah saw a vision in her mind: a six-inch cube made of dark metal and ivory inlays. On
the outside, an intricate maze was carved into its surface. "Retrieve that box from its current
owner."

"And do what with it?"

"Simply retrieve it. For now."

"And what do I get?"

"More power, of course. In particular that weapon you bear, the blade that was my first gift to you,
will become a mighty tool in your continued service to me, and a fierce bane to the enemies you
will face."

Pariah bristled. "I don't suppose you are going to tell me what the box is." Silence. "Or who
Mortlock was? Or why you wanted him freed? Or what this has to do with the Dead Three, or the
Vanthampurs, or Baldur's Gate?" Still nothing. She lowered her voice, not wanting to be overheard
 by the people passing by. "And is it true that Baldur's Gate could suffer the same fate as Elturel?"
She grew frustrated as he continued to say nothing. "Are you the one who brought Elturel into the
Hells?" she said. "Dammit, answer that question or you can fuck right off! I need to know that I'm
not helping you destroy Baldur's Gate."

A long pause and then he said, "The fate of Elturel was not my doing. Nor is the imminent fate of
your city. Obey me and you can save the citizens of both cities, over a hundred thousand souls that
will not be sacrificed to the Hells. Is that enough incentive, little mortal?"

"Then who is behind this?" Once again, there was nothing but silence.

Pariah turned her focus back to the others. "He says there is some kind of fancy metal box in the
duke's house that he wants us to get. For now he just wants us to get it; I'd guess he'll want us to do
something with it later. And he says he wasn't behind Elturel, but it has been brought down to the
Hells, and this city is headed there next." She hesitated and frowned. "He claims that listening to
him will save Baldur's Gate." They all exchanged glances. "Yeah, I know," she said. "They don't lie
but they do mislead. I'm just telling you what he said."

Rowan made a thoughtful noise. "If it was one of the other archdevils, then that might make sense.
They often work against each other."

"You know I am against helping the schemes of this malevolent entity," said Farima sharply.

"Yeah, I'm not a fan of the idea either," said Rowan.

"What if he's telling the truth about Baldur's Gate. Would you let them all burn?" Pariah asked.
Farima grimaced but didn't answer.

Lythienne said, "We are headed to the villa anyhow, right? Funny how he keeps directing us to the
path we are already on."

Pariah rubbed her arms briskly, most of the cold gone now. "Look, let's get this off the street," she
said, motioning to the treasure chests. "We can debate this at Lythienne's."

Farima clenched her jaw but then nodded. They picked up the chests and continued through the
crowded streets of Heapside.

Chapter End Notes

For this chapter, I probably should have added another fight before Mortlock, but I
wanted to rush through this one. I thought about having them face the death's head
with Mortlock's help, but I prefer the way it played out here. Overall, after a lot of
work, I'm happier with these last two chapters than I thought I'd be.

Reality note: contrary to what the module states, natural gas does not smell like rotten
eggs. That's something that is added by gas companies so customers can smell gas
leaks. I know some people roll their eyes when talking about reality in a game of
magic and monsters, but you still have to observe some kind of rules or it's just random
shit happening for no reason, and frankly that's lazy writing. I agree the players should
get a warning, but I liked my warning better. In lieu of that, how about a sign on the
door saying to douse torches?

I changed Vendetta's species because there are already too many tieflings in this
module. I prefer them to be very rare. It's not the last time I'll tweak on race or gender
to suit my whims.

Originally I had planned for them to be more beaten up upon exiting and forced to
give up the treasure to the dragon cultists, but then I realized the cultists were also
there to kill Mortlock so wouldn't just take the money and run. Besides, who doesn't
love a battle scene that ends with an old, wet, naked gnome woman wielding a battle
axe? She was a randomly generated NPC I threw in to populate the bathhouse, but the
scar on her back implied she was an adventurer of some kind. The way she bonded
with Pariah spontaneously came out of the writing so I could see her lending a hand.
Again, I like badass women.

If you want a glimpse into Farima's past, I've posted a separate story in response to a
writing prompt: A Deadly Fire.
 A Painful Memory
Chapter Summary

Information from Mortlock Vanthampur has sent the group to investigate his brother,
Amrik, a sleazy money lender who works out of a seaside tavern.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The streets of Heapside were bathed in the cool light of predawn as Pariah and Rowan walked the
cobblestones. Lamplighters were moving down the street, using their long pole to douse the wicks
of the lanterns that poorly illuminated the dangerous nighttime streets. The streets were starting to
wake up as people unbarred their doors and unlocked their shutters so they could start their
workdays.

The waking sounds of the city washed over Pariah to the point she didn't really hear them. Well,
that's not true. She knew to listen for sounds like footsteps coming up behind her or the sound of a
blade whispering out of a sheath, but most of the sounds faded into the background. Perhaps that's
why she didn't notice the sound of the pipes at first.

They turned a corner and saw Lythienne's townhouse ahead. As they neared, Rowan slowed down.
Pariah gave her a questioning glance, wondering if Rowan had sensed danger, but the priest was
looking off into nothing. Her head was cocked slightly. "Do you hear that music?" she whispered.

Pariah listened and heard the melody of a pan pipe. She turned her head to locate it and realized it
was coming from Lythienne's home. They approached the door slowly, neither of them wanting to
interrupt the song. It was a slow, sad melody that was every bit as beautiful as the voice she had
heard that night in the Elfsong Tavern.

As the sun rose over the horizon, the two of them stood there, intently listening to the music.
Eventually the tune ended and they waited in silence to see if there would be more. A voice from
inside the townhouse called out, "Why don't you two come in instead of standing awkwardly
outside my door?"

Rowan chuckled and pushed the door open. "Sorry," she said as they entered Lythienne's home.
"We didn't want to interrupt you. That was delightful." She paused. "Well, maybe delightful is the
wrong word. Beautiful, but very sad."

Lythienne put down the pan pipes she had been playing and motioned for them to sit. Farima was
already there, a cup of tea in her hand. "Those pipes won't play happy music anymore," Lythienne
said as she started pouring tea for the two newcomers. "I play them when I miss my husband,
Quinn, and I try to play something bright, but it always comes out like that."

She handed cups to Pariah and Rowan and resumed her seat. Farima said, "Forgive me. When I
asked you to play, I had no idea the instrument was associated with such sorrow. Is your
husband...?" She trailed off.

"Dead," Lythienne said matter-of-factly. From her tone, Pariah surmised it had been a long while.
"The pipes were a gift from him for our fortieth wedding anniversary. I would always play happy
music with them, inspired by the joy I felt in our relationship." She looked wistful. "He died not too
long thereafter. He was human. You humans lives such short but full lives. That was one of the
things I loved about him: his vibrancy."

"And that was when the pipes stopped playing happy music?" Rowan guessed.

"No," Lythienne said. "I mean you'd think so, but no. I'd play cheerful tunes when I was sad about
him. The melancholy music didn't happen until after my brother died. His death was..." A shadow
crossed her face. "Well, that's a longer story than I think we have time for right now," she finished
apologetically.

Gravely, Farima said, "I understand. My sister died when she was young." Pariah felt a sense of
guilt radiating from her as she said that. Almost to herself, Farima said, "Losing a sibling is
difficult."

"Anyhow," Rowan interceded, trying to change the subject, "Let's talk about the Low Light."

It had been four days since their foray in the tunnels under the bathhouse. They had taken that time
to rest, alternating between staying at Lythienne's townhouse in the Lower City, and Farima's
lodgings in Little Calimshan. Although that meant accommodations were cramped, they reasoned
that, with as many as three cults possibly hunting them, it was best to stay together most of the
time. Rowan hadn't wanted to strain the charity of the temple, and Pariah still hadn't settled
anywhere permanent since her separation from the Forgotten.

Pariah had been using this time to experiment with the new power she had been granted. In
particular, she had been working to perfect new magic that allowed her to change her appearance.
Lythienne and Rowan had similar abilities. For Lythienne, she had learned it as an entertainment
skill, enhancing her storytelling by becoming the character she was describing. Rowan had learned
it as a priest of a trickster god. Both of them had helped Pariah understand what she could do with
it.

This new spell had an unexpected side effect: it forced Pariah to look at herself for the first time in
her life.

Growing up in abject poverty, vanity hadn't been a high priority. She had seen her reflection before,
and certainly she was aware she didn't look like the other girls, but it hadn't really mattered. There
is a sort of brutal equality in destitution. When you haven't eaten in several days, you don't really
care about this guy's skin color or that woman's horns. People cared more who your friends were,
what crew you ran with, and if you could be trusted.

Now, in an effort to understand this magic, she had to look at herself closely in the mirror and it
made her realize how much she had changed after her pact with Levistus. It wasn't just the writing
on her body. She had been able to feel that her face was different, her devilish features more
pronounced, her horns a bit longer, her canines sharper. However, she hadn't realized that her eyes
had changed. She had been shocked when she saw the dead black orbs staring back at her. They
hadn't been like that before. They had been human eyes, blue if she remembered correctly, but not
these balls of darkness set in her skull. Seeing that had shaken her. It seemed the price for this
contract kept adding up.

She and Rowan had made an overnight reconnaissance run to the Low Lantern, both of them
disguised by their magic. The intent had been to gather information in the hopes that the four of
them could form a plan for how to move forward.
"The tavern used to be a merchant ship," said Pariah. "The main deck doesn't have much other than
dead seagulls. A lot of dead seagulls."

"We thought it was strange," said Rowan, "and the staff says it's been an ongoing mystery. I
looked at the bodies and they'd clearly been stung to death. My guess is that Thurstwell has an imp
watching the place; imps can turn invisible. That's something to consider."

Pariah continued. "The first deck beneath is the tavern: bar, tables, gambling, bouncers. The owner
is called the Captain and she hangs out here with her pet crab." That got puzzled looks from Farima
and Lythienne. Pariah shrugged. "Yes, I said 'pet crab'. There's a guarded door in the back, not sure
where that leads to."

She continued. "The second deck is a lounge, quieter and more spread out than the main bar. This
is where Amrik has his business. He has a section of it and he waits for people to approach him for
loans. He has two bodyguards: a human and...something else."

"It's some kind of fiend," said Rowan. "It's small, smaller than a human child, with a tail and wings.
It's covered with fine spikes."

Farima mulled that over. "It sounds like a spined devil. It's a lesser fiend, a sort of errand boy of the
Hells. Don't be fooled by its size, though."

Pariah said, "I was afraid it would be able to see through our disguises, but I don't think it did. At
least it didn't seem to be watching us any more than it did the others in the tavern."

She took a sip of her tea. "The lowest deck is leaky and smells awful, and that's coming from a girl
from the slums. It's nothing more than a place for drunks to sleep it off. There doesn't seem to be
anything down there."

"What was your take on Amrik himself?" Lythienne asked her. She had told them about her new
insight into people's characters and emotions, after which she had detected they all became
uncomfortable around her.

Pariah's brow furrowed. "I didn't talk to him directly. I didn't want to get that close. I asked about
him a bit but didn't get much." She thought about it. "Oily. Can't be trusted. But he's a talker not a
fighter. He depends on his guards. He'll run or surrender rather than fight." She shrugged. "At least
that's my guess."

"Do you think he could be convinced to help us?" Farima asked stiffly. She had argued against the
plan of kidnapping him from the beginning.

"Maybe. If he saw a profit in it. I think he'd betray his mother, if that's what you're asking, but I'm
not sure what we have to offer him. Even the money from the cultists wouldn't mean much to the
son of a duke."

Farima looked unsatisfied. "You three have proposed we abduct him, and I've made no secret that I
am against that plan. Your counter argument is that he is not a good man, does not deserve gentle
treatment. Perhaps that is something we can use against him. If he has been indulging in criminal
enterprises, we can find evidence and blackmail him into helping us."

"Finding evidence will take time," Rowan observed. "If Mortlock had stayed in the city, he might
be able to help us, but he's gone. And every day we delay, the cultists kill more people in the city."

"Besides," said Pariah, "his mother is a duke. She will make sure any charges against him don't
stick."
Growing increasingly frustrated, Farima said, "Let us tell Captain Zodge what we have learned.
The Flaming Fist can pursue Duke Vanthampur, prove that she is behind this. Let justice prevail."

"She will still use her position to stop Zodge. Mortlock told us she's trying to make people not trust
the Flaming Fist." Pariah leaned back in her chair. "Look, Farima, if the law was going to work
here, Zodge wouldn't have hired us. He would have handled this already. He brought us in because
he knows we'll have to get creative."

"Plus, if we get into trouble while being creative, his hands will be clean," Lythienne observed.

Pariah nodded. "That, too. Farima, you say 'let justice prevail'. I agree with you. But justice isn't
coming from the law today. People are dying in the streets and we can stop that. And if we have to
get bloody doing it, then that's what we do. Because in the end, that's what's important: doing
what's right no matter the cost."

Farima's expression had softened and she said, "Yes, I agree. We must-" Suddenly she frowned and
her eyes flashed. "Are you using your devil's sight on me? Telling me what I want to hear?"

"No!" said Pariah. "Well, sort of. Look, I can't control it. I see what I see. But I'm not wrong. And
I'm not lying. I just want to stop innocent people from being murdered, and if that means I have to
rough up some scumbag moneylender who has his thugs break people's legs for the crime of being
poor, and then runs to mommy when he gets into trouble, then I'm okay with that." She heard her
voice rising and made a point of taking a breath. More calmly she said, "If you have another plan, a
real plan not a complaint, then let's hear it."

Farima continued to glare but said, "No. I do not."

"Then," Rowan interjected, "let us discuss how we will approach Amrik."

Pariah knew Farima needed a concession. "I'm willing to talk to him," she said. "Maybe we have an
advantage we don't know about. Maybe he wants to work against his mother. Maybe he hates his
mother as much as Mortlock did. Maybe we can convince him just to introduce us to her and we
can take it from there." Farima looked skeptical so Pariah added, "I'm happy to avoid a fight. If we
can get him to help us, great. But if not, we all need to be prepared to do what needs to be done.
Agreed?"

Farima studied her for a bit, and then said reluctantly, "Agreed."

"Are we all on the same page now?" Rowan asked. Farima nodded. "Good. Then how do we want
to handle this. Pariah, you said you will talk to him. I feel like all four of us approaching him will
make him nervous."

"I agree," Pariah said. "And there is seating for only two people in his area anyhow."

"So two of us arrive early and take seats in the lounge. You and one other approach him to talk to
him. If necessary, we attack. Lythienne, I was thinking you could take a seat near the steps going
up. There is a table there. If he tries to run, you can trip him up. Farima, you sit at the bar." She
paused. "Order a real drink, even you don't drink it. It will be too suspicious if you order water."

Farima looked offended. "I drink alcohol," she said defensively. "Just not as much as others do. I'm
quite capable of ordering a ’real drink'."

"Fine," Rowan said apologetically. "No offense meant. Pariah, I can come with you and we can
talk to him."
"Do we want to be in disguise again?" Pariah asked.

Rowan mulled that over. "No, I don't want to waste the magic on that. We'll go as ourselves."

"I have a thought," piped up Lythienne. "Is the tavern the best place to go after him? It's going to
be his home turf. He has his bodyguards. I don't think the bouncers will intervene, but he might
have surprises. Would it be better to follow him after he leaves and ambush him on the road?"

Pariah said, "No, Rowan and I talked about that. The streets are less controlled. He has a thousand
escape routes. From the tavern lounge he has only one way out. It's easier to box him in."

She nodded. "Okay, that makes sense."

Rowan said to the group, "Well, when do we want to do this? He's generally there from late
afternoon until after midnight. The place is less crowded during the day. I'm not sure if that will
help or hurt us."

"Night," Pariah said firmly. "The streets are too crowded during the day. If we end up marching
him to his mother's estate and using him as a hostage to get us to her, it's going to be easier for him
to slip away in the daytime crowds."

"In that case," Rowan said with a stretch, "how about if you and I get some sleep." They had been
up all night at the Low Lantern, and Pariah felt the fatigue dulling her senses. "We can head over
there tonight and see what we can see."

It was well after sunset, and the street lamps created dim pools of light in the darkness of the
Eastway district. Distant sounds of taverns and other night businesses could be heard, but the street
that Pariah and Rowan walked was quiet. Rowan's lantern lit up the area and they kept sharp eyes
out for the less savory denizens of the Lower City nights.

Pariah slowed as she saw a figure come out of the shadows ahead, moving under one of the
streetlights and stopping there. He was a middle-aged black man, lean but strong, with dark, curly
hair. He wore light armor and carried a staff. He fixed Pariah with a stare. "Defend yourself,
demon!" he called out.

Rowan put her hand to her dagger but Pariah held out a hand. "Stay out of this," Pariah said. "This
is personal." She dropped the sack she was carrying, which fell to the ground with a muffled,
metallic clank. Her rapier whispered out of its sheath and she advanced towards the man.

He waited for her to approach, falling into a ready stance as she grew near. His staff lashed out
with surprising speed, but she deflected it with her rapier. He shifted his weight and struck again,
but she was ready and dodged that blow as well. He feinted to her left and she moved to parry the
real blow, but he surprised her when that turned out to be a feint as well. The staff poked her hard
in the chest and she stumbled. He whipped the staff around, swept her legs out, and she landed hard
on her ass on the cobblestones.

"Talona's tits!" she said with feeling. "I thought I had it that time."

The man chuckled and reached down to help her to her feet. "Your footwork is still shit," he said.
"You need to have your dancer friend teach you some moves."

"Ha ha," she said, rolling her eyes. She punched him in the arm. "And, hey, I don't like that 'demon'
shit!"
 He looked contrite. "Sorry. I was in the moment. How about 'goat-girl'?"

"How about 'fuck you'," she grinned. She turned to Rowan, who was watching them with
bemusement. "This is Char Morningfall," she said, motioning to the man. "He's one of my sparring
partners at Garmult's. And this," she nodded at Rowan, "is Rowan Winesilk, priest of Tymora."

Char gave her a respectful bow. Rowan gave an uncertain smile. "Uh, nice to meet you...I guess?
Do you always ambush people in the street?"

"Not as a rule," he grinned. "I just saw her coming and figured she could use a refresher. Let me
make it up by buying you both a round. I'm headed to Garmult's now."

The gladiator school doubled as an alehouse at night. Pariah was tempted but said, "Thanks, but
no. I've got some business right now. I'll come by another night."

He clapped her on the shoulder. "Sounds good. Bring all your friends. I'd love to meet the rest of
your crew."

"We'll do that," she said. They said their goodbyes and she and Rowan resumed their trip to the
Low Lantern. Pariah rubbed her ribs. "Ow," she said.

"Are you okay?" Rowan chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'd rather he hadn't pulled that tonight, but it's just a bruise."

In another few blocks, the street opened up into a view of the harbor, or at least a view of the fog
that cloaked the harbor at the moment. Many of the docked ships were lit up and the yells of the
longshoremen peppered the other sounds of the sea. Pariah felt her senses sharpen. Ever since the
night of the sahuagin attack, she always got nervous near the water.

They walked down the wharf into the thick fog until the shape of an aging, three-masted merchant
ship loomed up out of the mist. The ship was rigged but had no sails, and the heavy chains that
anchored it to the wharf made it clear this ship was not going anywhere. At the bow of the ship, a
lantern cast an eerie green light, a universal symbol throughout the city that an establishment was
open. Pariah and Rowan mounted the rough wooden staircase that climbed from the wharf's edge
to the main deck.

Chapter End Notes

Originally I was going to start at the Low Lantern, but then I realized that not enough
happens there to make the story interesting. I decided to add the scene at Lythienne's
house to get a bit of character exposition, and the duel in the street just fell naturally
out of the writing when I realized they were passing close to Garmault's on the way to
the Low Lantern.
 A Wily Hostage
Chapter Summary

The party has arrived at the tavern that is Amrik's home base. What tactic will
convince him to help them investigate his mother's involvement in the cult?

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah noticed two dead seagulls on the deck, different ones than the three they had seen the
previous night. Each morning the crew tossed the bodies overboard, and each night they found
more. No seagulls flew in the night sky, but Pariah noted two ravens on the lookout perch,
watching them with sharp eyes. They had been there the last time, so the crow's nest had apparently
become a literal crow's nest.

She led the way down the stairs to the first of the lower decks, the main tavern. The evening was
early enough that, although business was picking up, the tavern wasn't as crowded as it would be in
a couple of hours. There were four tables and an L-shaped bar; only about half the seats were
filled. A middle-aged human woman with red hair and a crab perched on her shoulder eyed them
from the short end of the bar.

Pariah headed towards the stairs the led down to the lounge. The woman at the bar called out,
"Well met! I don't think I've seen you here before." Her tone wasn't suspicious, just curious.

Remembering they had been under personal illusions before, Pariah nodded. "Yes, first time," she
confirmed.

The woman said, "My name is Larelra Thundreth, but folks around here call me the Captain. If
you're thirsting for a beverage or looking to gamble, you've come to the right place, but watch your
step. Things can get pretty messy around here."

"We'll be careful," said Rowan with a polite smile. They headed downstairs. The lounge was
windowless, lit only by the oil lamps that hung from the ceiling on chains. In addition to the
patrons, three burly bouncers stood around the periphery, watching the room.

Four small two-person tables decorated the fore end of the lounge deck. Lythienne sat at one of
them sipping wine and casually watching the room. They didn't acknowledge each other. At
another table sat a cloaked figure, a man Pariah guessed from his build. His gloved hand gripped a
tankard of ale.

There was a larger table closer to the center of the deck, and another L-shaped bar staffed by a
birdlike kenku bartender. Farima was there with her own mug of ale. A hint of shimmering cloaked
her body, a sign of the mage armor she could summon. This was a dangerous city, and the shield
was no more suspicious than the more traditional armor most of the patrons wore. Also at the bar
was a male human sailor who was well into his cups, and a tough looking man with a red ponytail
whose sleepy eyes scanned the room. The latter, Pariah knew, was one of Amrik's bodyguards.

Near the bar was a pair of couches facing a coffee table. Sitting next to each other on one couch, a
pair of drow awkwardly sipped their drinks and whispered to each other. At the aft end of the ship
was another pair of couches with a coffee table, and sitting there was their quarry. Amrik lounged
back on the couch facing the bar, his feet on the table. His black hair and beard were well
groomed, and his dark leather armor looked expensive. His eyes swept the room, resting
momentarily on the two newcomers. Next to him, perched on the back of the couch, was a
grotesque purple humanoid covered in spines. Its leathery wings were wrapped around it and its tail
hung down behind the couch. It also studied the newcomers with its red eyes, its gaze distinctly
more predatory than its master's. Its clawed hands gripped a barbed, two-pronged military fork.

Most of the people on the deck looked over the newcomers and then went back to their drinks. The
only eyes that stayed on them were those of Amrik and the spined devil.

Pariah led Rowan over to Amrik and they both sat on the couch in front of him. Pariah put the sack
she was carrying on the floor next to her. "Good evening, my friends," Amrik said with a slick
smile, eyeing the sack. "How may I help you?"

"We have some business to discuss," said Pariah.

"Wonderful," he said. "Let us begin our business discussion with refreshments." He looked
towards to the bar and held up three fingers. The bartender nodded and started pouring drinks.
Amrik slicked his hair back, folded his arms and said, "And how much would you like to borrow?"

Pariah shook her head. "That's not the kind of business we mean. We need to meet with your
mother and want your help getting to see her."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid you've confused me with her personal secretary. I suggest you go
knock at her door. Her butler will be happy to schedule an appointment."

He didn't seem surprised by her request. Amused maybe, but not surprised. Pariah said, "Our
business is urgent. We feel you would be able to get us in front of her quickly so we can discuss
something with her."

"What kind of something?"

"That is for the duke only. If she wants you to listen in, that's her choice, but for now all I can do is
tell you it's important we meet with her quickly."

He studied her, still looking amused. "And why should I do this?"

It occurred to her to threaten him, but she decided to take a different path. "Would twenty gold
suffice? It seems like a generous fee to get us inside the duke's villa."

"Fifty," he said.

Pariah pursed her lips. "Thirty."

"Forty."

"Thirty five."

"Done," he smiled as the kenku showed up with a tray. As the bartender lay the three wine glasses
down on the coffee table, Amrik said, "Let us toast our deal."

Pariah was surprised when Farima came up as soon as the bartender had left. "One moment," she
said as Amrik reached for his glass. "We have an old Calishite custom." She swapped his glass
with Pariah's. "A gesture of trust between business partners."

His face didn't change but Pariah caught a hint of annoyance in his attitude. Smoothly he said, "I'm
wounded that you would imply I cannot be trusted. Besides, I serve my guests better wine than I
drink myself. I wouldn't want you to have to drink the swill that I enjoy."

Farima picked up the glass in front of him, the one that had been Pariah's. She held it out to him
and demanded, "Drink!" Pariah shivered as Farima said the word, sensing the magic behind it.

Amrik hesitated and his eyes glazed over a bit. He reached out to take the glass from Farima, raised
it to his lips, and then stopped. His eyes cleared and he angrily dashed the wine into Farima's face
as he leapt to his feet. "Kill them!" he snapped to his bodyguards as he drew his dagger. With
lighting speed he stabbed at Farima multiple times, punching through her magical shield like it was
paper. Farima staggered back with a gasp as blood started to stain her clothing. She knocked aside
his arm with her staff and ran away, diving behind the couch with the drow for cover. The devil
fired several spines at her that burst into flame as they shot through the air, but the spines
embedded in the couch, inches from the male drow, leaving scorch marks on the fabric.

"Watch it!" shouted one of the bouncers. "You know the rules!"

The redheaded guard was drawing his mace as he slid off his barstool, but he didn't see Lythienne
moving up silently behind him. She pummeled him with blows as quick as Amrik's had been and
he turned to face her. She moved with her usual grace, but he managed a glancing blow against her
forearm. As he did, he took a magical bolt from Rowan in his back that distracted him, allowing
Lythienne to land a powerful kick that knocked him to the ground, unmoving.

Meanwhile, Pariah had drawn her rapier, which gave off a cold white mist as her power flowed
into it. She stabbed at Amrik and he didn't turn in time to block the blow. He gasped as the cold
blade found a seam in the armor and sank into his side. He struck rapidly at her and she was able to
parry most but not all of his blows. His dagger point stabbed into her chest and, though it didn't
break through the chain, it left a deep bruise underneath. The pain triggered a blast of cold energy
that surrounded him and frosted his own leather armor. Pariah saw an opening and struck again,
scoring another wound in her opponent.

Her attention was focused on him but she was aware of the battle going on behind him. The other
three had focused on the small devil and she heard it shriek as it finally succumbed to the damage
from multiple sources. She felt the change in Amrik's attitude when it did. He twisted to avoid
Pariah's next blow, darted past Rowan and dashed for the stairs.

"You would run, coward?" Pariah called after him. "Come back and face me with honor!"

It was a trick she had discovered during her sparring matches, something new among her gifts from
Levistus. It wasn't a true charm like the prayer that Rowan had used in the tunnels below the
bathhouse, just a sort of enhanced taunt. Her opponents had told her they simply felt an anger
towards her, a strong desire to defeat her in single combat. It didn't always work but...

Amrik froze in his tracks. He turned, eyes flashing, and charged back with a bellow. She parried
his blows and he avoided hers. The others stayed back; a side effect of this particular challenge was
that if anyone else joined her, the impulse for single combat would be broken. The two of them
dueled for a bit, neither managing a hit, until finally Amrik threw down his dagger. "Enough!"
Amrik said, showing his open hands. "I give up. What do you want?"

Pariah glanced around the bar, the point of her blade at Amrik's throat. Most of the guests were
nowhere to be seen; presumably they had fled upstairs. The drunk sailor was still on his stool, half
slumped over, apparently unaware a fight had been going on. The kenku bartender peeked over his
bar now that things seemed to be over. The bouncers in the corner had withdrawn to cover and
were watching them carefully with weapons drawn.

"Was the wine poisoned?" she asked.

Before he could answer, Farima said, "I saw the bartender put something in the drinks. That is why
I intervened."

"What was it?" Pariah asked Amrik.

He shrugged. "A harmless...medication. It would have simply put you to sleep. Look at the bright
side: you would have met my mother after all, just from a prison cell."

"Why? You had no reason to mistrust us."

Amrik laughed. "Do you think I don't know who you are? Multiple witnesses saw the crowd that
left the bathhouse with my worthless brother. A crowd that included a tiefling."

Pariah felt stupid; of course he would have recognized one of her kind. She should have come in
disguise after all. "We still need to meet with your mother."

"Very well," he said with resignation. "I believe we settled on thirty-five gold?"

Pariah raised her eyebrows. "That was the old deal, before you tried to poison us. The new deal is
we don't kill you. Does that seem fair?"

"Yes," he said in a resigned tone. "I suppose it will have to do."

Pariah sheathed her sword and stepped back to pick up the sack she had brought. She tossed it to
him. "Put those on."

He opened the bag and looked inside. He looked back at her. "Really? How...discourteous of you."

"Put them on," she repeated.

Amrik dumped the bag and iron manacles clanked out onto the floor. He put one set on his ankles
and the other on his wrists. Pariah checked them to be sure they were locked securely. She also
retrieved Amrik's dagger from the floor, and took his coin pouch from his belt. She withdrew a few
coins and left them on the bar. She turned to see Rowan tending to Farima's wounds. The Calishite
looked pale and shaky, so Pariah decided they needed to take a rest before heading to the villa. She
tossed a few more coins on the bar, ordered a round of drinks and snacks while Rowan continued
to work. Farima looked much better once Rowan was done. Pariah waved her off; her injuries were
minor. She'd learned to shrug off that kind of damage at the gladiator school. Lythienne had a
nasty bite she'd gotten from the spined devil, but it wasn't poisoned so Rowan mumbled a quick
prayer to stop the bleeding and they were ready to go.

Throughout this, Amrik tried to negotiate for his freedom. Pariah finally just started ignoring him.
She kept an eye on the stairs in case any reinforcements came, but other than a couple more
patrons, nobody else came down. The bouncers asked Amrik what he wanted done with the corpse
of the human bodyguard, and he just shrugged disinterestedly so they dragged him upstairs. Pariah
guessed he'd end up in the water. She looked around and didn't see the body of the devil, but did
see a puddle of black goo on the ground where it had been.

Once the group was patched up, they headed up the stairs single file and came out on the tavern
deck. They owner eyed them with a frown. She rose from her stool and moved to stand in their
path. "What's the problem here?" she asked.

"My lovely Laraelra," said Amrik smoothly. "Have you come to rescue me?"

She snorted. "Of course not," she said. "I have no doubt you deserve whatever is happening to
you." She looked at the manacles and then the rest of the group. "Again, what's the problem?"

Pariah remembered her Flaming Fist badge. She took it out and flashed it at the owner. "City
business," she said.

Laraelra frowned. "Is he coming back?"

Pariah shrugged. "He is the key to a door, nothing else. If he cooperates, then he'll be back to
ripping off his customers tomorrow night. If not, well, that's on him, not us." She said that to
Amrik as much as Laraelra.

The tavern owner studied her. "Very well. But he's a business partner of sorts. If he dies, it cuts into
my profits." Her eyes narrowed. "That would make me cranky."

"Understood," said Pariah. The woman moved out of their way, and the group headed up the stairs
and out onto the main deck.

Amrik looked up at the ravens in the crow's nest and made a disgusted noise. The birds took flight,
and as soon as they did he shouted "Shoo!", waving his hands at them with the clank of manacles.
"Stay away, you filthy things." The birds circled twice and then returned to their roost, eyeing the
group with cocked heads. "Shall we head for my mother's villa now?" he asked Pariah.

Pariah was too busy scanning the area for other enemies to care about his dislike of birds. The
surroundings seemed clear so she turned to him and said, "Here are the rules. If you run, call for
help or try to trick us, bad things will happen you. If you prove useful, we'll let you go. Got it?"

"Yes, yes," he said impatiently. "It's not a complicated relationship." She shoved him forward and
they headed into the foggy streets. Rowan led the way, her lantern illuminating their path, though
they couldn't see far in the mist. Farima and Lythienne flanked the prisoner, and Pariah walked
behind.

They walked the street along the edge of the harbor. The harbor itself was busy like it had been
when they arrived. The streets were mostly quiet, with the occasional shadowy figure watching
them from doorways and alleys, but a well armed group like them weren't likely to have trouble.
After a few blocks, Pariah reached out to touch Lythienne's arm. When the elf looked at her, Pariah
jerked her head and fell back behind the group. Lythienne fell back as well, giving her a curious
look.

"Is it my imagination or is someone following us?" Pariah asked.

Lythienne looked amused. "You mean the one that moves with all the stealth of an army of iron
golems? He's been following us since the tavern."

"Any thoughts on who it might be?"

Lythienne shrugged. "An ally would have joined the battle. For that matter, an enemy would have
joined the battle, too."

Pariah nodded. "Agreed. And it's probably not someone who sees us as an easy target in the night
if they saw the fight in the tavern. Well, I suppose there is only one way to find out." The road
ahead had a sharp 90-degree bend to the left as it reached the north end of the harbor. "You stay
with the others. I'll see who our friend is."

The two of them increased their pace to catch up with the group. They followed the turn and, as
soon as they did, Pariah ducked into an alley and waited, her dagger drawn. The group continued
on, only Lythienne aware she had dropped behind. The light faded but Pariah could still see in
shades of gray in the darkness. After a short time, she heard the sound of a single set of armored
footsteps approaching. She waited and a figure passed by the mouth of the alley. She recognized it
as the cloaked figure who had been sitting at the corner table.

Pariah slipped quietly out of the alley and came up behind the individual. She closed the distance
and in one smooth motion grabbed the shoulder of the person with her left hand and touched the tip
of her dagger to the man's back. "Hold it," she said in her most threatening voice. "Don't do
anything stupid and I won't remove your kidney."

She immediately knew she'd made a mistake. She could feel the heaviness of the mail under her
gloved hand. This kind of threat worked fine against someone who was unarmored or in light
leather, but the splints she rested the point of her dagger against wouldn't be easily penetrated. If
the man decided to fight, it wasn't going to go well for her. However, she was committed, so she
bluffed. "Who in the Hells are you and why are you following us?"

The man was silent for a moment, but then said, "I have business with Amrik Vanthampur. I saw
you abduct him and wanted to see where you were taking him." The voice was younger than Pariah
had expected, and she felt a sense of desperation from the figure in front of her.

"What kind of business?"

"Who are you?" the man countered.

"I'm the one with the knife, that's who I am. What kind of business?"

The man hesitated. Pariah saw that the group ahead had stopped and were watching them from a
distance. After a moment, the man said, "I am trying to locate Thavius Kreeg, the high overseer of
Elturel. I understand he escaped the destruction of the city and arrived in Baldur's Gate. A rumor
says he was seen in the company of guards from the Vanthampur family. I wished to ask Amrik
Vanthampur if he knew anything about that."

Her companions started walking back towards them. "Why not just ask him?" Pariah asked.

"I was trying to figure out the best way to approach him," he said hesitantly. "I don't know if
Overseer Kreeg is a prisoner or a guest."

The rest of the group neared and Pariah felt a bit safer with them around. She put the dagger away
and stepped around to the man's side, shifting her hand to the hilt of her rapier. She noticed
Lythienne moved around to the other side; it would be difficult for him to run. "So who are you?"
Pariah asked. "And why do you care about Kreeg?"

The man reached up and pulled back his hood to reveal the face of a teenager with brown skin, red
hair and a haunted expression. "My name is Ryland Mantlemorn. I'm..." He hesitated. "...from
Elturel. I arrived with the first wave of refugees, before they sealed the city."

Pariah was surprised by the face she saw. "You're just a kid!" she blurted out.

"I'm not!" he said hotly. "You don't look much older than me."
That was true, she had to admit. She wasn't sure what her real age was, but she estimated she was
about twenty. And, to be fair, the stranger might look like a kid but he carried himself like a
warrior.

"So where are you taking him?" the boy asked.

"Back to his villa," Pariah said. "We are working with the Flaming Fist-" She broke off as the boy
suddenly stiffened. His hand went to his sword and his eyes widened. Confused, she quickly added,
"We are only investigating the rise of murders associated with the Dead Three, and even that we
are doing under coercion. We are definitely not interested in anyone else the Fist might be after."
Cautiously she added, "Okay?"

Ryland locked eyes with her for a moment and then relaxed and took his hand off his weapon. "It's
not what you think," he said defensively. "There was a...misunderstanding. It wasn't my fault."

Pariah waved it off. "I understand. Nobody here is an ally of the Fist."

Farima said, "Well, they do provide order in a city that is-"

"Farima," said Lythienne gently. "Not now." The Calishite looked offended, but closed her mouth.

"Fine, Ryland was it?" Pariah said. "Here he is. Ask your questions."

Ryland looked unsure of himself. He drew himself up and tried to look tough. Amrik looked
amused. Ryland said, "High Overseer Thavius Kreeg. I have heard he was seen in this city in the
company of Vanthampur guards. Do you know where he is?"

Amrik's amusement increased. "Hmm, Kreeg...Kreeg. Do I know that name?"

"Amrik, no games," Pariah warned. "We still haven't decided what we are going to do when we are
done with you. Don't give us reason to do bad things."

"You are no fun," he sighed. "Very well, yes, the gentleman is currently residing in our villa. I
really don't know more than that." Responding to Pariah's expression he said, "It's the truth. It is my
mother's business, and I try to stay out of that. I only know I've heard her mention his name."

He cocked his head and looked at Ryland. "What is your interest, I wonder. A warrior, late of
Elturel. The bearing. The armor. Could you be..." He smirked. "...one of the Hellriders?"

Ryland looked shocked and his hand went to his hilt again. He nervously scanned the group. "I'm
just asking about Overseer Kreeg. I want to be sure he's safe."

"Relax," said Pariah. "I told you. We're not with the Fist by choice. We don't really care who you
are."

"And if you are one of the Hellriders," Lythienne said, "it is something to be proud of. They are
valiant warriors who deserve respect."

Her comment obviously made Ryland feel better. Pariah said, "It sounds like you need to speak
with Duke Vanthampur. That is where we are headed as well. He," she jerked her head at Amrik,
"is going to get us an audience. Why don't you come with us?"

Ryland considered that and said, "I would appreciate that. I do not know this foul city or anybody
in it. I am glad for any help."
 The group resumed their trek towards the gate that would lead them to the Upper City and
Vanthampur Villa. After a bit, Lythienne asked, "Ryland, if you don't mind my asking, how did
you escape Elturel's destruction?"

The boy was quiet for a while, but finally said, "A group of us were training a few miles to the
north, well outside the city. I could see the Companion, its holy light bathing the city in
benevolence. I saw..." He broke off but continued. "I saw the Companion turn black, saw the
sudden malevolence wash over the city. And I saw the city start to sink. We mounted and rode as
hard as we could, but by the time we arrived there was nothing but a crater. We gathered a few
refugees, some who had managed to leap from the edge of the city as it sank into nothingness. We
led them to Baldur's Gate, since we knew it was the closest city. We managed to get inside before
they closed the gates."

He stopped talking. After a bit, Lythienne prompted, "What happened to the rest of your group
once you got to the city?"

Ryland looked at her. "I'm not sure. The Flaming Fist recognized that some of us were Hellriders.
They tried to arrest us. There were too many of them, so we scattered." His voice turned bitter.
"Fled like rats into the surrounding alleys. In the melee...I wounded one of them. I managed to
escape." He shook his head. "I have no idea what happened to my companions."

"I'm sorry," said Lythienne.

"I know you have your own priorities," said Rowan, "but helping us stop the Dead Three cult
might make Captain Zodge reconsider his position about the Hellriders. Maybe you'd be free to
help the refugees."

"You think so?" asked Ryland hopefully.

"It's possible," she said in a voice that implied that it probably wasn't.

"Well, that's something then." Ryland seemed a bit happier as they approached the gate to the
Upper City, though he started to get nervous when he saw the Flaming Fist guards.

"Don't try anything cute," Pariah warned Amrik.

"Me?" he asked in mock innocence. "Never."

"The moment you are a liability is the moment you die, understand?"

"Yes, yes," he said, rolling his eyes every so slightly. "You're very scary. Shall we continue?"

Despite his insolence, Amrik was well behaved as they approached the gate. Farima showed her
badge and the guards waved them through. Ryland eyed the guards anxiously, but they didn't seem
to care about him. Nor did they give the manacled Amrik a second look. It was just another day in
Baldur's Gate to them. Once the gate was behind them, the group followed Amrik's instructions
and headed to his mother's villa.

Chapter End Notes

That white mist off Pariah's rapier is a manifestation of Hex. I know it affects the
target and not the weapon, but it's a convenient special effect that fits a bladelock.

Reya has changed gender to become Ryland. Since this person will travel with the
group for a while, and I already have four women, I figured I'd throw a man into the
mix for no particular reason.
 A Grand Villa
Chapter Summary

With the moneylender Amrik in chains, and the Hellrider Ryland accompanying them,
the group approaches the Vanthampur Villa to confront Duke Thalamra Vanthampur.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The streets of the Upper City were wide and clean, unlike the grimy maze of the Lower City, and
were well lit by frequent magical lampposts along the curbs. The buildings were sturdily
constructed and intricately decorated. Although the area was quiet this late, there was more traffic
than in the dangerous streets below. Upper City residents felt safe walking the streets even this late
at night.

A patrol of three Flaming Fist, two human men and a halfling woman, rounded the corner and
stopped as they saw the suspicious looking crew. Amrik called out a cheerful, "Good evening!" and
waved a manacled hand at them.

"Evening, Master Vanthampur," one of the men said, his brow furrowed. "Everything all right?"

"It's fine," he assured them. "I'm here with some business associates. Nothing you need to concern
yourself about."

Pariah had already pulled out her badge and shown it. "Zodge's orders," she told him.

The guard shrugged, quickly losing interest. "All right." The three soldiers continued their patrol.

Pariah put her badge away and looked at Amrik. "You're being very cooperative," she said with
suspicion.

He gave her a bright smile. "And why not? I'm taking you to see my mother." His grin widened.
"And she's going to kill you all." He started walking again, whistling a cheerful tune, and the group
rushed to keep up with him.

Pariah suddenly remembered something else. "In your villa, do you have a metal box, about this
big?" She held her hands about six inches apart. "Intricately decorated with ivory?"

He shrugged. "We have lots of knickknacks about the place. I really don't pay attention." He gave
her his wolfish grin. "Maybe my mother can tell you about it before she kills you."

"You are not exactly helping your case right now," she warned him. "Remember, as long as you are
useful, you stay alive."

Amrik didn't look intimidated. "I will get you into the manor and get you in front of my mother.
That was our agreement. I don't know what box you are talking about. You might ask one of the
servants. They pay attention to those kinds of things." He looked ahead and pointed. "And here we
are."
She looked and saw he was pointing to a lot surrounded by a wall about twice her height. Two
gates pierced the wall, a smaller one for pedestrians and a larger one for coaches. Above the
smaller gate was a sign. She assumed it was the family name or some pretentious motto.

"No guards?" she asked.

"They are in the courtyard," he said.

"How many?"

"Three patrols of three."

"Any inside the house?"

"None on the first floor. Five upstairs."

Pariah drew her rapier and grabbed him by the collar. "Remember, nothing stupid," she said as she
shoved him into the lead position. The others followed, their weapons drawn as well.

They approached the smaller gate and he reached out to open it. She pushed him through into the
courtyard of the estate, dimly lit by lanterns along the walls. Ahead was a two-story house with a
slanted roof tiled in red clay. To their right, a patrol of guards turned at the sound of the gate. When
they saw the intruders, they reached for their weapons.

"Wait!" called out Amrik. "Stand down."

"We are with the Flaming Fist," Pariah called out. "We are here to see the duke."

The guards didn't relax, but they didn't draw their weapons. One looked at Amrik. "Sir?"

"I'm fine. The duke will handle this. Maintain your patrol and secure the courtyard."

The guard nodded. "Very well, sir." The patrol didn't move, and watched them carefully as they
approached the front door of the house.

Amrik pushed the heavy double doors that led into the foyer. He led them into a room about
twenty feet wide and a bit more than that deep. There were closed doors to the right and the left. A
plaster shelf lined with ornate vases circled the room well over their heads. Spread across the
flagstone floor was a large rug of exquisite design depicting a royal coronation. Two tapestries
hung on the walls, one portraying a dragon flying over a ship and the other showing pilgrims on
camels.

Ryland and Lythienne were pushing the double entry doors shut when a pair of ravens flew
through the closing doors. Pariah's attention was drawn to the birds, and Amrik suddenly whirled
and shoved her aside. "Attack now!" he yelled as he threw something on the ground. Pariah whirled
on him but he was already clumsily fleeing towards the door to the right. As the object hit the
floor, it burst with a muffled whump and the room was suddenly filled with black smoke.

Pariah cursed herself for not searching him after taking his dagger. She charged after him through
the thick smoke as she heard the flapping of wings and inhuman screeches around her. She heard
Rowan mumble, "Fortune favors the bold," and felt the warmth of Tymora's blessing infuse her as
she came out of the smoke near the door Amrik had fled through, now open. Past the door was a
simple table and chairs and Amrik was clumsily trying to make his way past the chairs, hindered
by the chains around his wrists and ankles.
Pariah heard Rowan cry out in pain. "Be careful!" the priest shouted. "Their stingers have poison."

"Got one," Ryland yelled as Pariah dashed through the open doorway. She saw it was a simple
bedroom. Three beds in the opposite wall were currently occupied by a teenage girl, a mature
woman, and a middle-aged man, all three stirring out of sleep at the noise. On the near wall was a
fourth bed, this occupied by a quite elderly man.

Pariah rushed ahead of Amrik to block the path that led between the beds to a door in the wall left
of the door she'd come through. She struck a deep wound in Amrik's chest, both the point of the
blade and the cold energy running through it causing great damage. Amrik, having no weapon,
shoved her back. She stumbled against the old man's bed, lost her balance and fell. Amrik ran over
her, stomping hard on her left arm as he did. As the pain filled her, she lashed out angrily with her
magic and cold wind surrounded him.

She heard the distinct sound of Farima's magic missiles. Lythienne called out, "Another one
down," and Rowan quickly added, "Make that three."

Pariah grabbed at Amrik's cloak, both holding him back and pulling herself to her feet. She shoved
him aside and moved to block the door he was trying to escape through. He tried to dodge around
her but she landed another wound, this one in his leg.

"All right!" he called out, throwing his empty hands up. "I surrender."

Pariah hesitated. He was badly wounded. She was angry and knew he couldn't be trusted.
However, she was also painfully aware of the eyes of four frightened servants watching her, all
completely alert now. She grabbed his collar and shoved him back in the direction of the foyer.
"Stay here!" she ordered the servants.

Amrik let her push him through the bedroom and back to the foyer. Pariah could still hear combat
and rushed to help them. Before she reached the door, she heard Rowan shout, "No, don't chase it!
Let it go."

Pariah pushed Amrik back into the foyer to see the smoke had cleared to a thin haze and the battle
was over. The opposite door was now open, showing a dark but large room. She saw five puddles
of black ichor on the ground. Ryland was anxiously scanning the upper reaches of the room while
wielding a longsword in one hand and a shortsword in the other; both weapons were bloodied. He
had a wound on his shoulder, which didn't look bad. Rowan also had a wound on her neck, and the
skin around it was already getting swollen and red from the toxin she had warned the others about.

Lythienne was shaking the ache out of her hand. "For little things, they are pretty hardy. It was like
punching a wall."

Ryland nodded. "Devils and demons are hard to kill with normal weapons. Silvered or magical
weapons are best." He looked embarrassed. "Hellriders are usually armed with those kinds of
weapons. I have trained with them for several years and was to be inducted as a knight next month.
I would have been issued my silvered weapons then. These," he waved his swords, "are less
effective."

Rowan started circulating among the group, mumbling prayers over everyone's wounds, including
a minor prayer to stop Amrik's bleeding. Pariah waved to the puddles on the ground and asked the
room in general, "What are those?" She wrinkled her nose at the sulfurous smell that was starting
to permeate the room.

"Devils disappear when killed in our world," said Ryland. "They are not actually dead. They have
returned to the Hells."

Pariah turned to Amrik. "Are there more of those things?" she demanded. He shrugged smugly.
Pariah pulled his face close to hers. In a low voice so she wouldn't be heard by the people in the
next room, she growled, "I am at the end of my patience with you. You are alive only because I
didn't want to upset the servants. I'm still willing to kill you."

Some of his smugness faded. "I don't know," he said. "The imps are Thurstwell's pets, not mine. He
may have more."

"We know at least one got away," Rowan said. "Well, it's not like we can duck out to the market to
buy better weapons. We will just have to make do. Fortune favors the bold."

Pariah saw Amrik's eyes narrow as the wheels turned in his head. "Perhaps I know of a silvered
weapon," he said. "What would that be worth to you?"

"You are not in a position to negotiate," Pariah warned him.

"Exactly my point. If you continue to take me along, I'm going to die. I can get you a weapon, but
you agree to let me go."

"So you can go get help?" Pariah snorted.

"Why bother?" he snorted. "You will not survive a meeting with my mother. I, however, would like
to. Let me go and you can get back to ransacking our home or whatever it is you plan."

Pariah mulled that over. He was proving to be less useful than she had hoped, and dragging him
around was getting inconvenient. "You give us the weapon, and we chain you to a post
somewhere. If you're so sure your mother will kill us, she can release you later."

He sighed. "Oh, very well. I suppose that's the best I can hope for."

She turned to the rest of the group. "What do you all think?"

"I have never liked taking hostages like we are criminals," Farima said. "I agree with the plan."

Lythienne shrugged. "Seems like a good deal."

Rowan frowned. "If we can trust him, then I agree. But that's a big if."

Pariah looked over at Ryland. "I definitely do not trust him," he said firmly. "However, I will go
along with the group if that's what everyone wants."

She looked back at Amrik. "Where is it?"

He pointed at the other door in the foyer. "Through there is the gallery. Past that is the parlor.
There is an ornate chair in there with a secret compartment in the armrest. Inside is a silver
dagger."

"Any guards between here and there?"

He shook his head. "I don't know about my brother's imps, though."

Rowan said, "How about if Farima and I stay to talk to them," she nodded at the servants through
the open bedroom door. "You three go recover the dagger."
Pariah knew that her insight could help the questioning, but was also aware that she had hardly
made the best first impression on them. Having her there might make them clam up and would
probably do more harm than good. "Good idea," she said with reluctance.

Lythienne led the way. She carefully entered the next room, and whirled to her right with a start,
fists raised defensively. Pariah brandished her weapon, suspecting a trap, but then Lythienne
relaxed. She shot Amrik an amused look. "Funny," she said.

"Oh that?" he said in his smarmy way. "I've seen it so often, I forgot it was there."

Lythienne smirked and moved further into the gallery. Pariah followed, Amrik firmly in her grip
and Ryland close behind. When they passed through the door, she saw what had startled
Lythienne. Just inside the door was a life-sized, realistic wax figure of a gray-haired, broad-
shouldered woman with masculine features. The figure looked disapprovingly out on the room. In
her arms she held a scowling, battle-worn gray cat with a rat in its mouth. The cat had a pair of
wings folded against its back.

The rest of the room was dimly lit. Heavy black curtains blocked the south windows, so the room
probably would have been dim even it had been daytime. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, burning
just brightly enough to illuminate the outlines of objects in the room without revealing them.
Pariah tightened her grip on Amrik. "This seems like a good place for an ambush," she said.

"Not at all," he assured her. "I have no more tricks."

The room was cluttered with art: tapestries, paintings and alabaster busts. To their left was the
outer wall, with the aforementioned curtained windows. Ahead was a single wooden door, and on
the same wall further down was a set of double doors, all closed. To the right the room stretched
for about thirty feet where she saw a third door as well as a stairway leading to the upper floor.
"Which way?"

Amrik nodded to the door across from them. "In there."

Lythienne crossed to the indicated door and opened it. It led into a richly furnished parlor. There
were curtained windows on two walls, indicating it was a corner room. An austere, high-backed
chair faced a pair of padded couches and a coffee table. The walls were lined with portraits of the
stern woman who had posed for the wax figure, the winged cat, and six different men. Two of the
men she recognized as Mortlock and Amrik. A large tapestry depicting burning angels falling from
the sky into a pit of fire dominated one wall.

"There is a secret compartment in left armrest," Amrik said, nodding at the chair. "Press there to
open it," he pointed to a spot.

Lythienne cautiously pressed on the spot, and the top of the armrest slipped aside to reveal a
compartment holding a fine silver dagger. Lythienne removed it and examined it in the dim light.

Meanwhile, Pariah was examining the rest of the room. She approached the heavy oak coffee
table. It looked sturdy, and she kicked it to confirm it was. She fished the key to the manacles out
of her pocket. "Face down," she said, pointing at the coffee table.

Amrik sighed but did so. She unlocked both sets of manacles and relocked them so they were
wrapped around the table. He could still move a little, but there was no way to get the chains loose
without sawing the table apart. She clapped him on the shoulder and said, "If I remember, I'll drop
the key with the servants when we leave. If not..." She shrugged. "Well, then I guess you have a
long night ahead of you."
He didn't bother to respond. They exited the parlor back into the gallery. She looked at the door but
it had no lock, and since it opened into the parlor she couldn't barricade it. It would have to do.

They returned to the foyer to find Rowan and Farima talking to the old man, who maintained a
prim and proper bearing despite his gray hair being disheveled and the fact he was wearing only a
nightshirt. The other three servants peered out from the bedroom but didn't seem to be part of the
conversation.

Farima glanced over as they came in and turned back to the old man. "We thank you for your
assistance. Again, I apologize for the disruption. We hope to complete our business here with
minimal conflict. For your own safety, please return to your bedroom and remain there until we
have left."

The man's lips pursed slightly as he looked at Pariah. "And Master Amrik?" he asked.

"He's fine," said Pariah. She pointed towards the parlor. "He's chained up in there. We'll let him go
before we leave."

The man nodded and then retreated into the servant's quarters, closing the door behind him.

"The servants are quite upset with the violence," Farima said to Pariah accusingly.

"Hey, we didn't strike the first blow," the tiefling responded defensively.

"Yes, but perhaps coming in with a chained up hostage simply invited retaliation."

"Enough," said Lythienne firmly. "Now is not the time to debate the merits of our approach."

Rowan turned to address the group. "I explained to them we are working with the Flaming Fist.
The butler was somewhat cooperative. I asked about Kreeg and he said the man is here as a guest
and is staying in the basement. The duke is down there as well. He didn't know anything about the
basement; servants aren't allowed down there. However, he knows that a number of people come
and go there. I also asked him about the box, and he said Kreeg brought something like that.
Thurstwell has it, and he is in his bedroom upstairs. He asked that we not hurt Thurstwell, or
anyone else for that matter."

"There are a bunch of guards upstairs who might not make that easy," observed Lythienne dryly.
"Not to mention probably more imps."

"We should at least try to talk to them first," insisted Farima.

Pariah felt her frustration with the woman growing but tried to keep her voice calm as she said, "I
agree. I have always agreed with talking to avoid a fight. But sometimes a fight cannot be avoided."

Farima snorted in disbelief but said nothing more.

"Did you find the dagger?" asked Rowan. Lythienne held it up. Rowan said, "Who should it go
to?"

"Let me test something," Pariah asked, holding out her hand. Lythienne held out the dagger and
Pariah took it from her. She brandished it but nothing happened. It didn't frost up like her rapier
did. She shook her head. "No. I can't focus my power through it. I'm better off with my rapier." She
handed it back.

Ryland waved it off as well. "If it was a bigger blade, I'd use it, but even with the tough skin of the
fiends I'd do more damage with my current weapons than I'd do with that." Lythienne held it out to
Farima and Rowan and neither looked especially interested.

"Was that really for nothing?" Pariah sighed.

Lythienne laughed brightly. "Not necessarily." She made a few stabs in the air with the weapon,
moving just as fluidly as when she struck with her fists. "I have trained with some light weapons.
I'm used to a knife of a different shape, but I can make use of this." Her brow furrowed. "The lack
of a sheath will be somewhat aggravating, but I'll manage."

"Very well," said Rowan. "Shall we head upstairs?"

"I shall lead the way," said Farima firmly. "I wish to speak with the guards rather than attacking
them outright."

Ryland said, "May I suggest that I lead the way? You come after me so you can still talk to them,
but if they aren't in a talking mood I think you'd rather have my armor between you and their
weapons."

Farima furrowed her brow, but then said, "Very well. But do not attack first!" She illuminated her
staff and the group went into the gallery.

Ryland headed for the stairs leading up to the next floor, which curved sharply to the right to
follow the corner of the room. There was a railing along the stairs and along the edge of the second
floor that looked down, but Pariah couldn't see anything past it on the upper floor. Farima followed
Ryland, with Lythienne coming next, Pariah after, and Rowan in the back. All had weapons drawn.
Ryland reached the first landing and stopped. He nodded to Farima.

"You, there, at the top of the stairs," Farima called out. "We are representatives of the Flaming Fist.
We wish to speak with Thurstwell Vanthampur. May we come up?"

Pariah heard a voice from above but couldn't make out the words. She heard a higher pitched voice
yell something, but it was muffled. She thought she heard the word "no" but wasn't sure. A man's
voice called down the stairs, "Master Thurstwell is not receiving visitors at the moment. Leave
now!"

Farima looked back at the group. "If he is not willing to meet with us, then I suggest we head
downstairs to speak with the duke."

"We need to speak with him," Pariah insisted.

"Why? So you can do the bidding of your master?" Farima replied in a snide tone.

Pariah held her temper. "He said that recovering the box would help save Baldur's Gate from being
sucked into the Hells." That wasn't technically what he had said, but Pariah's comment did make
Farima hesitate.

Farima called up. "We believe your master is in possession of a small metal box. That box may
important to the safety of the city."

Pariah heard the mumbled voice from upstairs, and then the higher pitched voice screeched
something more loudly. She didn't make it all out, but it sounded something like "steal it" and
"send them away."

"This is the last warning," yelled the guard upstairs. "Leave now or we will remove you."
"We need that box," Pariah insisted to Farima.

Before Farima could respond, Lythienne said, "She has a point. If the safety of the city is in
question, we should do what we can. Your desire to avoid violence is admirable, but I think we
may have no choice."

Farima scowled down at the rest of them and then she mumbled some magic words. In a magically
enhanced voice that shook the walls, Farima bellowed, "Thurstwell, you saw how we fought
downstairs. Your guards cannot stop us. Please surrender the box or we will be forced to take it!"

The high pitched voice screamed and then yelled, "Kill them! Kill them now!"

They could hear the footsteps of guards above and Ryland charged up the stairs with a roar. Farima
mumbled, "Cyric's blood," and followed him. Pariah was waiting for Lythienne to go next when
she heard the sound of wings. She turned in time to see a shimmer in the air over the stairs and then
suddenly a small, red-skinned humanoid with horns, a tail and leathery wings appeared out of
nowhere, stabbing at Rowan with the stinger on its tail.

Rowan dodged the blow, and Pariah ran up to stab the thing with her rapier. She felt what Ryland
had reported, a resistance to her blade, but she also felt the cold magic in her lash out at the fiend. It
was hurt but managed to pull back its tail to strike at Pariah as another imp came over the railing.
Suddenly she heard Lythienne laugh, but it was a laugh tinged with contempt. "Pathetic!" the elf
sneered. "Your hellish masters will torture you for a thousand years for your incompetence."

Pariah felt the magic in the words. It wasn't just an insult; it was a curse. The injured imp looked
horrified for a moment, and then it melted into black goo that splattered to the floor. Pariah was so
shocked by the incident she almost didn't parry the stinger of the second imp.

Pariah stabbed at the second imp, again striking a deep blow that would have killed a normal
creature of that size, but its unnatural resistance foiled her again. Lythienne darted forward,
brandishing the silver dagger. With a dance like motion, she struck the imp. The blade sunk deeply
into its chest and it dropped to the ground, dissolving into a puddle of ichor.

The three women turned to the stairs to join the fighting they heard above when suddenly they
heard a terrible shriek from upstairs that left their ears ringing. They ran up the stairs to find the
others standing over the bodies of five guards. Pariah scanned the wide hallway but saw no other
enemies.

"What was that horrible noise?" Rowan asked.

"I did that," said Farima, "though in hindsight it was probably wasted magic. I had not realized the
guards were so...fragile."

Pariah's mind was focused on something else. "Lythienne, did you really just insult someone to
death."

Lythienne smiled at her, though her eyes were sad. "A storyteller's words have power," she said.
"The power to bring joy, and the power to bring...other things. I do not like using the darker power
of words, but I will when I must."

Pariah looked around the upstairs hall again. There were five doors, all closed. "Thurstwell," she
called out. "Where are you?"

There was no answer, but she heard whimpering from behind the second door to the left. She
carefully approached it while her companions watched the other doors. She turned the latch and
pushed it open. It was a surprisingly plain bedroom, brightly lit by a fire in the fireplace. Drab
curtains covered the windows. Furniture consisted of a bed, a padlocked iron chest, and a claw-
footed iron bathtub. The whimpering came from the other side of the bed. She moved over, rapier
at the ready, to find a frail fortyish man wearing a simple dressing gown. He was sitting on the
floor and when he saw her he backed up in a panic until he came up against the wall.

He was surrounded by a shimmering field of some kind, but what really drew her attention was
what he held: a black metal box with ivory inlays. "Toss that box over here," she said.

The man hesitated, but then tossed the box at her feet. Seeing he was terrified, she said, "We aren't
going to hurt you. We just want the box." He was obviously no threat. A stiff wind would probably
knock him over. She pulled out her Flaming Fist badge and showed it to him but that didn't calm
him at all.

Pariah bent down to pick up the box, still watching the man. He might be frail but he might also be
a spellcaster. He showed no signs of wanting to do anything other than crawl under the bed. The
box was heavier than she had expected. She thought she felt a dark energy coming from it, but
knew that might just be her imagination.

Farima had entered the room and was watching Pariah suspiciously. "We got what we wanted,"
Pariah said, showing the box to her. She opened her mouth to say more when she felt a familiar
coldness sweep through her body. She struggled for breath and fell to her knees.

Distantly she heard Farima demand of Thurstwell, "What have you done to her?"

"It's okay," Pariah forced out, her words hanging in a cold fog in front of her. "It's not him. It's
him." Those nonsensical words took the last of her breath. She endured until finally the bone-deep
chill started to recede. New knowledge. New power in her blade. New twists of energy coursing
through her shivering body. New rewards for her faithful service to the evil inside her.

"Now, open the box," his voice murmured. "Do so and my blade will be your strongest ally. My
power will be at your fingertips." He paused and then added, "You can save the mortal souls of
your city, but only if you serve me."

Her awareness of her surroundings returned. She was sitting on her heels, teeth chattering. Rowan
was kneeling next to her, looking worried. Farima watched her with a mix of suspicion and
concern. Lythienne and Ryland watched from the doorway. "It's fine," she assured them. "It's
over."

"What happened?" Ryland asked.

"It's a side effect of my magic," Pariah answered quickly before anyone else could. "It happens
now and then. Nothing to worry about." She saw no reason to tell him the source of her power.

As the warmth returned to her body, Pariah looked at the box that was still clutched in her numb
fingers. It was the same as the vision Levistus had sent before: a dark metal box with raised ivory
inlays that formed an intricate maze around the sides. It seemed solid. There was no obvious catch
or keyhole.

She turned to Thurstwell, who was still cowering in a corner. "How do I open this?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said in a shaking voice. "Mother asked me to open it, and I have been studying it
for days, but I haven't figured out the mechanism. It must have something to do with the maze on
the side, but nothing I've tried has worked. There is obviously something inside, so it must open."
He pointed at the chest in the corner. "I've made some notes on my attempts, but all they do is
document my failures."

Pariah shook the box and heard a metal on metal sound, like the sound of coins but heavier. "Who
would be able to open it?"

"Well, Mother got it from Thavius Kreeg. He asked her to keep it safe, but didn't say why. She
wanted to know what was inside, but without Kreeg knowing. I suppose he might be able to open
it."

"And Kreeg is in the basement?"

He nodded frantically. Pariah thought for a moment. To the others she said, "I don't want to leave
him here in case he calls for help or somehow warns them downstairs." She fished the manacle key
out of her pocket. "Ryland, why don't you take him down to the parlor and chain him up with his
brother. We'll stay here and search his room for any clues to opening the box."

Ryland nodded and stepped into the room. He reached down to grab Thurstwell's arm and haul him
to his feet. He drew his shortsword and said to the frail man, "If any more of your pets attack, I
shall use you as a shield. Understood?"

Thurstwell's eyes widened and he nodded. Ryland escorted him out of the room.

Pariah waved the others over. "Look," she said quickly, "I don't think Ryland should know about
my little friend." She tapped her head as she said this. "I'm not sure he would understand and I
think we need his help right now."

She wasn't surprised when Farima objected. "The Hellriders are honorable warriors. I think we
should trust him."

Before Pariah could respond, Lythienne said, "Honorable, yes, but still people. Even the best of
them have their prejudices and flaws."

"Farima," Pariah said, "if we weren't forced together by Zodge, would you have stood by me?
After you found out about me? Or would you have walked away?" Farima frowned and didn't
answer. Pariah continued, "I'll continue to tell you three the truth, but I don't think this is a secret
we should hurry to share with others."

She sighed. "And about that truth: he spoke to me again, after that little," she waved vaguely at the
floor where she had collapsed, "whatever it was. He wants us to find a way to open the box. He
said again that if we listen to him, it will save the city."

Pariah sensed indifference from Lythienne, growing concern from Rowan, and outright hostility
from Farima. Rowan said, "Let's not lose sight of the reason we are here: the Dead Three. We still
need to go talk to Duke Vanthampur about that. And if we find Kreeg, then maybe he can open the
box. As before, we decide what we do at the time."

Pariah looked over at the chest. "And I really meant what I said about looking for clues about the
box." She saw the lock and cursed herself for not asking Thurstwell for the key. "Look around for
anything that might be useful. And a key to that chest in case I can't get it open."

She pulled a set of picks out of a pocket and set to work on the lock. It was not a difficult
mechanism and it popped open easily. She lifted the heavy lid to reveal a jumble of wrinkled
garments, red wax candles, quills, blank sheets of parchment and jars of ink. She also saw a
wooden coffer and two books, one with a black cover and one with a tan cover. She took out the
books and held them over her shoulder. "Are these anything?" she asked the room in general.
Rowan took them from her, put them on the bed and started flipping through them with her one
hand.

Pariah flipped open the coffer to find gold and silver coins as well as a potion bottle. Healing
potions were common enough that she recognized it on sight.

"No," said Farima firmly, moving to stand next to her.

Pariah looked up in surprise. "Huh?"

"No," Farima said again, glaring at her. "It is bad enough that we have barged into the house of one
of the Council of Four with a hostage in tow. I have tolerated that in the name of our investigation,
though it is not the tactic I would have used. However, I will not allow you to steal from them."

Pariah could tell she was serious about this. To be fair, she was still spending the money they had
gotten from the cult. For that matter, she was still spending the money they had gotten from the
pirates. She lived cheaply and had been saving her coins, though she wasn't sure why other than to
have a stable future. The point was that she didn't really need more money right now.

She looked back at the coffer and lifted out the bottle. She stood and showed the potion out to
Farima. "This could save one of us from death. I'll leave the coins, but I'm taking this."

Farima scowled, but merely snorted and walked away. Pariah slipped the potion into a belt pouch
and then turned to see if the others had found anything. Rowan pointed to the black book on the
bed. "This is some kind of gloomy poem about the end of the world. Possibly valuable, but not
useful." She held up the tan book. "This is his notes on the box. I didn't read them closely but I
think he's right: it's just a list of things that didn't work. However, there might be useful
information if we study it more closely." She paused. "He did say he thinks the box is infernal in
origin."

Farima opened her mouth and Pariah expected her to object to keeping the box. To her surprise, the
woman said, "That would make sense if it were related to the disappearance of Elturel and the
possible similar fate of Baldur's Gate. I am loathe to cooperate with a devil, but I will concede that
the contents of that box might be important."

They heard a set of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and a moment later Ryland appeared
outside the door. "They are securely locked up down there. I peeked out through the curtains. The
guards outside are watching the house suspiciously, but I didn't see any sign they are about to
storm the place."

"All right, we are done here," said Rowan. "Shall we head for the basement? The butler said it's
through the kitchen."

Pariah studied the box. "How are we going to carry this?" she asked. "I'm sure there is more
fighting ahead, and I don't want this to get in the way."

Rowan pulled out one of the pieces of clothing from the chest. "We can rig up a sling." She looked
at her amputated left arm. "Well, I'll need someone to help me with this." Lythienne stepped
forward, took the clothing and, under Rowan's guidance, she rigged a sling that strapped the box
and the notebook to Pariah's back. It wasn't all that comfortable, but it would do for a while.

The group headed down the stairs to the gallery, still alert for both guards and imps. From the
gallery they passed into a large kitchen. Pots, pans, and cooking utensils dangled above three
 wooden preparation tables in the middle of the room, and shelves were lined with bowls, platters,
herbs, spices, and dried goods. Next to the door was a dumbwaiter with a manually operated rope-
and-pulley system. Sitting on one of the top shelves, a winged cat glared down at them as they
entered. It hissed but showed no overt hostility. Lythienne and Rowan made some cooing noises at
it but it ignored them so the group continued through the far door to find a brick-walled staircase
leading down. "Fortune favors the bold," Rowan sighed as she looked down the stairway. With
Ryland leading the way and their weapons ready, they descended into the villa basement.

Chapter End Notes

Arguably the imps at the ship should have attacked when they left the ship, but I
figured Thurstwell would be more likely to spy. He would realize two imps aren't
enough to overpower the party, and he would want to know what their intentions were
for his brother.

Holding the two imps so they could join the four in the foyer made the battle quite
interesting, and giving Amrik a chance to escape by saving his smoke bomb also
added to the excitement. I honestly wasn't sure if he was going to get away or not. If
he'd made it to the basement, Pariah would have stopped chasing him and the forces
below would have been ready for the party, but she managed to hurt him enough to get
him to surrender.
 A Descending Stairway
Chapter Summary

The party descends into the basement of Vanthampur Villa, still trying to find Duke
Vanthampur to question her about the cult.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The stairs led down to one end of a dry, cluttered cellar. Four stone pillars braced the ten-foot-high
vaulted ceiling, and the walls were lined by a dozen barrels on wooden braces. Half the barrels had
brass spigots tapped into them. At this end of the room was a stack of wooden crates and a similar
stack was in the middle of the room. Unlike the last time they had been underground, this area was
well constructed with a tile floor, brick walls and a plaster ceiling. On each pillar was an oil lantern
fitted with green glass. As they looked into the well-lit room they saw sturdy doors made of
riveted iron plates, one on the right wall and one on the left.

Ryland turned to the rest of them with a questioning look. When he got shrugs in return, he headed
for the closer door, which was one the right. "Wait," said Lythienne. "Since the servants do not
come down here, I fear this area might be trapped or alarmed. Let me check." She slipped past him.

Before Lythienne reached the door, Pariah heard a crash from the middle of the room. She turned
to see the top of a crate had burst open and three spined devils, the same small purple fiends they
had seen at the Low Lantern, leapt out and attacked the party. Like the one in the tavern, they were
all armed with military forks with jagged tips. As she turned to face them, the air grew cold and
dense around her. She realized this instinctive defensive spell was one of the new abilities Levistus
had given her.

She, Lythienne and Ryland rushed towards the devils. Lythienne quickly pulled ahead even over
that short distance. One of the devils shot flaming spines from its tail at her and she dodged, but
one spine hit her in the shoulder. She closed and her silver blade flashed in the light of the lanterns
as it stabbed into the creature. It pulled away, but an energy beam from behind them blasted a hole
clean through it and it melted into a puddle.

Pariah closed with the fiend on the right while Ryland took the other. The winged humanoid
agilely dodged her rapier thrusts, and as she shifted her position she shifted right into the path of its
military fork. The blow punched right through the frosty aura that surrounded her, dissipating it
and leaving a shallow wound in her arm. However the unnatural iciness of her shield traveled up its
weapon and it hissed in pain as it quickly pulled its weapon back.

Ryland and Lythienne teamed up on the other beast while Pariah and the fiend before her sparred,
neither able to land a blow. Lythienne plunged her silver dagger into the devil she was fighting and
in one fluid motion launched into a kick that slammed into Pariah's opponent. The kick didn't do
much damage, but it distracted the fiend so that it missed a parry. Pariah's rapier skewered it and,
as it died, she felt dark energy flow into her and restore her. As expected, the devils turned into
reeking black ichor as they died.

They turned to scan the rest of the room and listen for sound of alarm, but all seemed quiet.
"I suspect we will find more of these beasts," said Ryland, wiping the blood from his swords
before resheathing them. "The Hells obviously have influence here." Pariah could feel Farima's
eyes boring into her.

Lythienne carefully checked both doors but found no traps. She opened one and reported it led into
a small wine cellar with no other exits. The group moved to the other door, the one she had
originally been headed towards before the ambush. She cracked it open and peered through. After
a moment, she opened it wider so they could see a hallway that led to a T-junction about twenty-
five feet away. The construction was the same as in the storeroom: tile floor, red brick walls and
plaster ceiling. The heavy smell of incense wafted into the room, and under that odor was a faint
but foul stench.

Lythienne looked over at Pariah. "Shall we scout ahead?" Pariah nodded.

They moved quietly out into the hallway. As they neared the junction, Pariah saw the source of the
smell. Despite the high quality construction, this was a sewer. The corridor that crossed was
bisected by a four-foot wide trench cut into the floor, and in that trench foul-smelling water ran
lazily from their left to their right. As they looked up and down the corridor, occasional stone
bridges connected one side of the corridor to the other. They were in the center of this stretch of
corridor. To the left, the tunnel continued about forty feet and then turned left. To the right, it did
the same, but this turn was to the right. There was also a branching tunnel shortly before the turn.

Lythienne and Pariah exchanged shrugs. Lythienne turned right and started to move quietly down
that hall, Pariah padding along close behind and the rest of the group following about thirty feet
back. At the first bridge, Pariah crossed to the other walkway. They reached the branching corridor
and saw it ended in a cave-in after a few dozen feet. Lythienne reached the point where the corridor
turned. She peeked around the corner and quickly drew her head back.

She turned to the trailing party and held up a hand. They stopped. She turned to Pariah and held up
two fingers. She slipped the dagger into her belt and struck a ready stance. Pariah already had her
rapier out, but also called up the cold into her left hand in case she needed to attack at range.

Two figures came around the corner, one walking on each side of the trench. They wore black
robes and gold devil masks, and each carried a censer that they waved about, spreading the incense
smoke that permeated the air. The robed figures stopped in surprise as the two women rushed
forward. Lythienne launched a powerful punch into the man's gut, and when he doubled over
kicked his head. He collapsed. Pariah plunged her sword deep into the chest of the other. As the
dark energy flowed into her, she knew it had been a fatal blow.

The censers hit the tiles with loud clangs as the two cultists collapsed, but the noise appeared to
alert no one. The corridor ahead made another right turn, and facing them at the corner was another
iron door. Pariah pointed and said in a low voice, "We should hide the bodies in there."

Lythienne nodded. "Let's check it out first." She signaled the others to come ahead and then she
and Pariah moved forward. Lythienne checked around the corner, nodded that it was safe, and
continued to the door. Pariah could see the tunnel turned yet again, this time to the left.

They reached the door. Lythienne cracked the door open, but the hinge creaked. She froze. After a
moment, a deep voice from inside the room bellowed, "Who's there?" in Infernal.

Lythienne looked at Pariah, confused. Pariah mouthed, "Shit!" back at her. She turned and saw the
rest of the group had just rounded the corner. She beckoned them over.

"What are you humans playing at?" the voice growled. She heard heavy footsteps coming towards
them, and the door burst open as a large foot kicked it. Pariah clumsily stumbled back to avoid the
door as it slammed into the wall. Standing in the doorway was a broad-shouldered figure with
purple skin and a beard of writhing snakelike tentacles nearly as long as his muscular arms. He
brandished a glaive and, as he saw the intruders, he swung it in a vicious arc at Pariah.

She continued her clumsy stumble back to avoid the blade, nearly losing her footing completely but
managing to avoid falling into the trench of foul water. Lythienne took advantage of the devil's
poor stance land a powerful kick in his chest. He stumbled back into the room and she followed,
darting around to his side.

As Pariah regained her balance, she heard a bellow behind her. She saw Ryland charging down the
corridor. He leapt over the trench, landing with a crash on the tiles, and then charged into the room
to engage the devil. "Stealthy," Pariah mumbled sarcastically as she followed him a bit more
quietly.

She saw the devil and Lythienne engaged in a duel. The elf moved quickly, but so did he. He
lashed out with his tentacles, the spikes raking across her arm as she failed to get out of the way.
His glaive swept up and opened a deep gash on her thigh. She gritted her teeth and, as the wound
started to turn black and fester, she growled a rather nasty Elvish profanity -- Pariah might not
speak Elvish, but she could swear in several languages. "Healing," Ryland called out as he slashed
at the devil. "Lythienne needs healing!"

Pariah shook her head; the entire place was going to hear them at this rate. The point of her blade
glanced off the armor of the devil, but then a swarm of energy bolts came in from outside the room
and pelted him. He roared angrily but didn't take his attention off Lythienne.

Pariah heard Rowan's voice from outside mumbling a prayer, and a golden light bathed all of them.
She felt her wound from the spiked devil's fork healing. Lythienne's wounds closed as well, and
the festering disappeared.

Lythienne struck with her silver dagger, but her stance was mostly defensive now. The devil was
focused on her, and Pariah and Ryland took advantage of that. She stabbed and he slashed and they
wore the devil down, until finally it crashed to the ground, nearly slashing Lythienne with another
glaive blow as it did. It dissolved like the others had. Pariah was disappointed to see its weapon
melted into goo as well; she figured it might have been magical.

Pariah was catching her breath when a voice said, "Bravo!" She whirled in surprise to see a man in
a cage. He was a short, lean middle-aged man dressed in an ankle-length caftan. His features were
Calishite, like Farima's, and he sported a crimson goatee, presumably dyed since his hair was dark
brown.

Pariah looked around the room and realized this was a small prison. There were five cells, two of
them occupied. The other prisoner was an elderly woman with an aristocratic bearing. While Pariah
was still taking this in, the man said, "Are you here to rescue us? If so, the cell keys are on the wall
there." His accent was similar to Farima's.

Rowan had come in and was attending to Lythienne's wounds; the prayer had helped her, but had
not healed her completely. Pariah said, "Ryland, Farima, drag those bodies in the hall into here. We
don't want anyone to know we are here." She retrieved the keys and unlocked the cells. The two
prisoners joined them.

"Did Sylvira send you?" the man asked.

Pariah furrowed her brow. "I don't know who that is. We are working for the Flaming Fist, looking
into a cult that worships the Dead Three and is murdering people in the city. The trail led here."

"The Dead Three?" the man mumbled. "That seems odd. I supposed it could be a distraction from
her real plans."

"Whose real plans?"

"Duke Vanthampur. She's-"

"If you are working for the Flaming Fist," the aristocratic woman interrupted, "then perhaps you
can escort me back home."

Pariah raised an eyebrow. "And who are you?"

The woman looked offended. "I am Satiir Thione-Hhune." She paused, as though Pariah was
supposed to be impressed. When she wasn’t, the woman continued in an irritated tone. "House
Hhune is one of the patriar families. I was abducted by these ruffians several days ago, presumably
for ransom. I am quite put out by my treatment here and I would like to return home immediately."

Although Pariah resented her imperious tone, she also sensed fear and desperation underneath.
Being imprisoned by a devil jailer probably wasn't a pleasant experience.

Before she could answer, Ryland and Farima came in, dragging the corpses in from the hall. "I
cleaned up the blood as well," Farima said. "No one passing should be suspicious."

"Then perhaps we could close the door and rest a bit," said Lythienne. Pariah realized she looked a
bit haggard. Whatever dark magic had been in that glaive wound might have left some lingering
effects.

Pariah said, "I agree. Let's take a moment, bind some wounds and talk about our next step."

"And if someone comes in?" asked Rowan as Ryland closed the door.

Pariah had already thought of that. She said, "Well, then the jailer will get rid of them." She
focused on her own form and felt herself transforming into an identical, if slightly shorter, image of
the jailer. "Grr, me devil. Me smash," she said in the deepest voice she could muster.

Lythienne laughed. "Nice. You should take that act on the road."

Even Farima looked amused. She said "Actually 'me smash' is more of a demon's attitude than a
devil's, but that could be a good ruse if we need it." She looked uncomfortable. "However, would
you mind returning to your usual form? This is quite disturbing."

Pariah let the spell go and resumed her normal appearance. She turned to the other prisoner. "And
you. Are you a patriar too?"

"No. My name is Falaster Fisk. I work for Sylvira Savakis, a scholar based in Candlekeep who is
one of the leading experts on the Nine Hells."

Pariah's attention perked up at the mention of an expert in the Hells. "And why did you come
here?"

"I'm looking for Thavius Kreeg, high overseer of Elturel, who I believe is staying here."

"Oh?" said Ryland. "And what is your business with High Overseer Kreeg?"
"Sylvira has been monitoring devil activity in the area for months. It was clear that something was
happening. She thinks the devils were behind the disappearance of Elturel."

Without thinking, Pariah said, "That's true. It's been dragged into the Hells."

Falaster gave her an appraising look. "And how did you come by that information?"

Realizing it might not be a good idea to reveal her source, she stammered out, "Uh, well, it's one of
the rumors I've heard on the street."

He studied her a bit longer, his skepticism radiating off of him. He said, "Well, that is the theory
Sylvira had. She thinks Thavius Kreeg signed struck a bargain with an archdevil, and that a copy of
the contract he signed is hidden inside a magic puzzle box. She asked me to help her obtain proof
of Kreeg's crimes."

"Liar!" Ryland bellowed, his face red, his hand on his sword. "How dare you impugn the
reputation of a hero like High Overseer Kreeg! He saved Elturel by summoning the Companion
and freeing the city from the vampire lord that had conquered it."

Falaster's mouth dropped open in shock. "I'm sorry, and you are?"

"Ryland Mantlemorn," he grated. "Hellrider and faithful defender of Elturel, from both physical
threats and slanderous statements."

"I see," Falaster said quickly. "I see. Well, of course, that's the point. I'm here looking for
evidence. I didn't mean to sound like I'm accusing the overseer. Certainly not. Heroic man, I'm
sure. I want to address this gossip. I wanted to speak with him and find out the truth of it. Clear his
name from these nasty rumors. We all want to find the truth, don't we?"

Ryland glared at him. "We do. That is why I am here to find High Overseer Kreeg, to ensure his
safety."

"Good, good," Falaster said with relief. "See? We are on the same side."

Ryland didn't relax much. "We shall see."

Meanwhile, Pariah had removed the box from the sling on her back. "Is this the box you were
talking about?" she said, holding it up.

Falaster's eyes widened. "You found it!" He reached forward to examine it. "Where was it?"

"Thurstwell Vanthampur was trying to open it. He failed. Do you know how?"

He took it from Pariah and looked it over. "No, I'm afraid not. These infernal puzzle boxes are
terribly difficult, but I think Sylvira might be able to. May I take it to her in Candlekeep?"

Pariah hesitated. "I want to see it open as well," she said. "But let's figure out what we are doing
right now first. Later maybe I can go with you. Bring the box to this Sylvira person." She held out
her hand to take it back.

He hesitated but returned it to her. "Yes, I think it might be a good idea for you to come to
Candlekeep. I suspect she would like to meet you."

"Me?" Pariah said in surprise. "Why?" She secured the box on her back again.

"Ah, well, she is a tiefling like you," he said. "She's always happy to talk to others of her kind."
Pariah studied him for a moment. He was clearly lying, but it didn't seem worth pursuing at the
moment. "Well, it seems like we all want to talk to Kreeg," she said.

"We also must speak with Duke Vanthampur," said Farima. "She may be behind the Dead Three
attacks, and we wish to stop them." She paused and looked down at the black pool that was all that
remained of the jailer. "And if this place is home to fiends like that, and those that worship them, I
put forth that it is our duty to root them out and destroy this nest of evil."

An exchanging of glances occurred and Rowan said, "Let's figure that part out later. For now, it
seems our goals are to find the overseer and the duke."

"And what about me?" said Satiir. "Am I just supposed to sit in this filthy cell while you gallivant
around? I demand you take me home."

There was silence while they considered their options. "We could escort her upstairs," suggested
Farima.

"The guards are still outside," said Rowan.

"Then we take her to the gate."

"And let her walk home alone at night? Even in the Upper City, that's dangerous. I'm sorry, but we
don't have time right now. We need to deal with whatever is going on down here first. Once they
realize we are here, they are going to be harder to dig out."

Lythienne said, "If they are summoning devils, they'll just summon more if we delay."

Farima looked dissatisfied. "We can't just leave her."

"You can stay here," said Pariah to the woman, "and we'll get you on our way out. Or you can
come with us, stay in the back and out of trouble, but that might be dangerous."

"That's not acceptable," she huffed.

Pariah shrugged. "Or you can go upstairs and try to get home, but that's going to be even more
dangerous."

Farima stepped forward. "Lady Thione-Hhune, I give you my word we will see you safely home
when this is over. However, the fate of the city is at stake now and we have to resolve that problem
first."

Pariah could feel the woman's fear and helplessness, so she said, "I agree with her. We'll get you
home when this is over." There was a general mumble of agreement. "Or if you come with us now,
we will protect you."

"Nonsense," she said. She marched back into her cell and closed the door. "I will stay here. They
will eventually ransom me to my family." Her voice shook ever so slightly.

"We will come back for you," Farima said. "I swear." The woman just snorted and turned away.

Pariah felt bad for her but there was nothing they could do. She turned to Falaster. "What about
you? What are you going to do?"

"I thought I'd tag along, if you'll have me. I'm not worth much in a fight, but I memorized a map of
this place and I know a few things that would be of use."
 "Could you draw the map?" Farima asked. He nodded. She reached into her pouch and produced a
graphite stick wrapped in sheepskin. "Give him the notebook we found," she said to Pariah.

Pariah handed it over and within a few minutes he had sketched a map on one of the blank pages.
"Living quarters here. About a dozen cultists per our reports. Kitchen and dining room here. Guest
quarters; that's probably where Kreeg is staying. This is a temple to one of the archdevils, and here
is a secret door at the back of the temple that leads to a hidden shrine. If the duke wasn't upstairs,
she'll probably be in this shrine. Escape tunnel in the temple here; let's not let her get to that.
Finally, this is the vault."

"Ooh," said Pariah.

"No," stated Farima emphatically. Pariah smiled; she had said that mostly to needle the woman.

"Do you know if there are going to be other devils?" asked Rowan.

He pulled his crimson goatee absently. "Possibly. Maybe patrolling. More likely in the temple. Not
many though. I imagine this fiendish gentleman," he pointed at the corpse in the room, "was the
worst of them. Other than that, minor ones like imps."

"Let's find Overseer Kreeg first," suggested Ryland. "I want to be sure he's safe."

Pariah didn't like that idea. If Kreeg was working with the duke, then he could be a problem. And
if he wasn't, Ryland might want to take him out of there, and losing Ryland's sword would hurt.
However, she could see Ryland was adamant in his position so she said, "That seems like a good
idea." The rest of the group had no objection.

"Let me attend to everyone's wounds," said Rowan. "After that we can head out."

Chapter End Notes

As I run this, I'm using Roll20 to play out the battles. What's nice about that is I can
retcon when I realize I forgot things. Forgot to account for Bless? Go back through the
chat, look at the rolls, roll 1d4 for the close ones to see if I can retroactively make it a
hit. Oops, Pariah would have used her Second Wind before that last short rest so she
has more HP than I thought. And so on. I also use that against the party, not just for
them.

I then gloss over the actual rolls for the story. I'm learning to mix things up: be willing
to have actions happen out of order if it fits the narrative better, don't describe things
that don't really matter, and so on. I still like the randomness of rolling the dice to add
to the story.

Hey, did you know Prayer of Healing has a 10-minute casting time? I didn't, at least
not until weeks after I fought that battle in the prison. Oops. I guess Rowan got some
kind of divine inspiration or something. I thought it seemed overpowered for a Level 2
healing spell.

And, yes, they have pencils in my version of Baldur's Gate. From my research, the
only thing required for the invention of the pencil is a deposit of very pure graphite. In
our world that was discovered in England the 16th century. In Faerun, I guess that
happened sometime before 1494 DR.
 A Terrible Truth
Chapter Summary

A second new ally, Falaster Fisk, has joined the group as they search for answers in
the basement of Vanthampur Villa.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah examined one of the gold devil masks. It was real gold, fairly valuable. "What's with the
mask?" she asked no one in particular. "The cultists under the bathhouse didn't wear these."

"Those people worshiped the Dead Three," said Rowan. "These people worship something else."
To Falaster she said, "I think you said something about a devil?"

He nodded. "We found evidence that there is some kind of devil worship going on here, though we
aren't sure which archdevil is involved."

Pariah put down the mask and searched the bodies but found nothing else of value. She looked
over the group. Lythienne was looking a lot better after Rowan's ministrations and it looked like
they were ready to go. She drew her dagger from the sheath at her back and held it out, hilt first, to
Falaster. "Just in case," she said. He accepted it with a grateful nod.

"So," she said to the group in general, "I was half-joking before about disguising myself as the
devil, but that might be a real option. And we could even use these robes and masks to disguise two
others. The rest could be visiting guests or something. It might let us talk our way past anyone."

"I do not wish to talk," Farima said. "This place must be cleansed of these abominations and their
disciples." Pariah was surprised to hear such bloodthirsty talk from someone who had been so
insistent on negotiation.

"I agree," said Ryland.

"I'm with Pariah on this one," said Lythienne. "I'd much rather talk my way through than fight my
way through."

Rowan looked off into the distance while she considered her answer. "I agree that I don't want this
corruption in my city. I regret we didn't more aggressively root the cultists out of the bathhouse."
She rubbed the coin of Tymora she wore around her neck. "Fortune favors the bold." She looked
back at the group. "But we also don't know what is out there. Let's focus on our primary goals first
-- Kreeg and the duke -- and then decide if we are strong enough to finish up this place."

Pariah asked, "Disguised or not?"

Rowan shook her head. "I say not. If we face them, we face them." Lythienne shrugged
noncommittally.

"All right, either way. Let's go then," said Pariah

She and Lythienne led the way again, moving quietly through the hallways. They continued in the
direction they had been going and eventually reached a four-way intersection. To the left was the
door to the vault, but they turned right. Following Falaster's map, they reached the door to the
guest quarters without meeting anyone. Ryland insisted on going through the iron door first, but
Lythienne and Pariah were close on his heels.

Wrought-iron candlesticks topped with flickering candles lit the room, which was heated by a cast-
iron stove with clawed feet. Across from the crackling stove was a modest desk with a matching
chair. Other furnishings included a small table and chair for dining, a bed, an iron chest resting at
the foot of the bed, and two tapestries. One showed spirits rising from a river as molten masses of
flesh with vaguely humanoid heads and torsos, and the other depicted a dead man dangling like a
marionette from hooked chains. The room was also empty of Kreeg or anyone else.

"Charming décor," Lythienne remarked dryly.

"This doesn't look like a prison cell," remarked Pariah.

"Clearly he cannot leave as he wills," said Ryland sharply. "We've seen the devils and cultists who
guard this place. They simply have given him quarters that befit his status, even as a prisoner."

Pariah didn't bother to argue the point. Searching the desk and the chest didn't reveal anything
more interesting than a silver pendant shaped like a gauntlet. "He is a priest of Torm," Ryland said
when shown the pendant.

"Kreeg might be with the duke in her shrine," Falaster suggested. "We should go there next."

They headed back out into the corridor, this time heading past the kitchen and dining room, both
empty, to reach a set of double iron doors inscribed with runes. Pariah recognized them as the
same kind of runes as were used in the writing on her skin, but she couldn't read them.

She could hear the rhythmic sound of voices from the other side the doors. She pressed her ear
against the door and could hear chanting in Infernal. She couldn't make out all the words but it was
something about someone named Zariel winning the Blood War. Pariah had no idea what that
meant.

"It sounds like some kind of mass," she said to the others. "I'm not sure how many people, but no
more than a half dozen. Of course there may be more who just aren't talking right now."

The group got into position: Ryland and Lythienne on the doors, Pariah close behind, and the
others further back. Ryland said, "Remember, if High Overseer Kreeg is in there, we must protect
him." He mouthed a countdown and then they threw open the doors and rushed into the room
beyond.

The temple was a huge, vaulted room lit by two rows of tall, wrought-iron candlesticks, each
bearing nine candles. On the walls were nine tapestries. At the far end of the room, a seven-foot-
tall statue of an angel wielding a longsword stood on top of a raised dais. The eyes of the statue
glowed white. Four black-robed figures knelt before the dais chanting. They turned in surprise to
look at the intruders, revealing the gold devil masks they wore. However, none of that was what
held Pariah's attention. Instead, she was focused on the humanoid standing on the platform, as tall
as the statue but covered in barbs, spines and hooks. It's gleaming eyes focused on her and its
spiked tail lashed about in anger. In Infernal, it snarled, "Die, servant of Levistus!" as it flung a ball
of fire at her.

Pariah was so surprised by its comment that she didn't dodge the attack. Pain blossomed as the
flame swept over her. She had instinctively closed her eyes against the fireball, and when she
opened them she narrowly dodged the mace of one of the cultists. Reflexively, she struck and her
blade sunk deep into his chest. Energy flowed into her as he died.

These cultists weren't any more of a threat than the ones in the hall had been. Lythienne and Ryland
made short work of the remaining three and they all advanced on the devil on the dais. A burst of
magical missiles pelted it and it swatted at a cloud of Tymoran coins that harassed it like a swarm
of angry wasps, leaving gashes in its purple flesh. Lythienne scored numerous small wounds with
her silver dagger and Ryland struck powerful blows with his blades, but the devil had eyes only for
Pariah. It slashed at her with nasty black claws and whipped its barbed tail at her. Even when an
energy beam from Farima burned a hole clean through its shoulder, it didn't take its attention off
the tiefling.

Pariah scored a minor wound, but its claws raked across her arm in response. As she tried to move
away, its spiked tail slammed into her and wrapped around her body. She cried out as the spikes
punched through seams in her armor and dug into her flesh. Cold energy burst from her and
enveloped it, and that was enough to get it to release her from the grip of its tail. She adopted a
defensive stance, parrying its blows rather than attacking.

Its focus on Pariah meant it didn't try to defend attacks from the others. She saw Lythienne's
dagger penetrate to the hilt in its back, and Ryland managed to cut its thigh nearly to the bone, but
it barely seemed to feel the damage. Pariah took more wounds and her strength was fading. She
retrieved the potion she had gotten from Thurstwell's room, thumbed off its stopper, and drank it
down quickly. She felt its magic flow through her but she was still badly hurt.

She startled a bit when she heard Rowan's voice close behind. "Lady Tymora, I implore you to heal
this warrior." Pariah felt her hand on her shoulder, and more warmth spread through her. Although
the healing was appreciated, it distracted her. She missed a block, and the tail spikes dug into her
side.

Lythienne slammed a powerful kick into the back of its knee, and it stumbled. Ryland followed up
with a powerful blow from his shortsword, and the cloud of spectral coins shredded its shoulder.
Pariah gritted her teeth against the pain of her wounds and continued to defend against its attacks.

Pariah was able to block or dodge its claws as it continued to relentless try to kill her, but its tail
moved in unpredictable ways. Again it slashed, this time against her thigh, nearly knocking her off
her feet. This time it was Farima's voice she heard behind her, mumbling something she couldn't
understand. Again she felt a hand on her as healing warmth suffused her.

Lythienne plunged the silver dagger into the devil again and its guard dropped. Pariah saw her
opportunity, slipped out of her defensive stance, and put everything she had into a powerful thrust.
The blade pierced its skin easily, punched through its heart, or whatever passed for one in a devil,
and came out the other side. The devil growled and tried to claw at her, but the life went out of its
eyes as it collapsed to the ground, the weight of its body tearing the sword out of her hand before it
melted into the usual noxious puddle.

Pariah quickly scanned the temple, but there were no other enemies. She bent down to recover her
sword and then hesitated. The hilt rested in the liquefied remains of the devil. "Uh, am I going to
die if I touch this stuff?" She had her gloves on but was still worried.

"No," said Ryland. "It's nasty and it reeks, but it's not harmful to touch."

"I believe it's also used by wizards and alchemists," Farima observed.
Pariah picked up her sword with two fingers and went to the bodies of one of the cultists to wipe it
clean on his robe. "Is it valuable? Should we be collecting it?"

"I don't believe so," the Calishite said. "Well, it is valuable, but it must be collected carefully, not
just scraped off the ground."

Pariah's wounds ached. She scanned the rest of the group and they were all panting, but nobody
was injured except her. "Thanks," she said to Rowan and Farima. "Both of you."

They nodded at her. Ryland said, "It's strange it was so focused on you. I wonder why."

Pariah gave her best innocent shrug; she'd tell the others what it said later. She noticed that
Falaster, standing towards the back of the temple, was studying her thoughtfully.

Ryland shifted his gaze from her to the statue on the dais and his face clouded. "I don't understand
this statue. It looks like Lady Zariel, but why would a statue of her be in a temple of devil
worship?"

"Zariel, yeah," said Pariah. "That was the chant. They were praying to her or something."

Ryland turned to her angrily. "Nonsense! Don't speak such sacrilege."

"No, it makes sense," said Farima. "I've studied the celestials extensively, and Zariel's fall and
subsequent rise to archdevil is a rather interesting-"

"Shut your mouth," Ryland bellowed, his weapon pointed at her. "I will not hear another word of
blasphemy against such a blessed figure!" He was shaking he was so angry.

"Some of the stories about outer planes beings get muddled," Falaster interjected quickly, moving
to stand between Farima and Ryland's blade. "It's not uncommon to get one being confused with
another. I'm sure she just made a mistake." Again, he was clearly lying, though Pariah could
understand why.

"No," said Farima, oblivious to the emotions in the room. "I'm quite familiar with the-"

Falaster turned to her and said emphatically, "No! I'm sure you are mistaken. And your story is
upsetting our friend with the sword, so perhaps this is not the time."

Farima paused, but finally even she understood. "I...suppose I could be remembering it
incorrectly," she said reluctantly.

"And I'm sure you would like to apologize to the young man for your error, yes?"

Farima clenched her jaw but grated, "Yes. My apologies."

Ryland relaxed and sheathed his blade. "Very well. I have already tolerated attacks on the
reputation of the hero Thavius Kreeg. I'll not have anyone speak ill of a symbol of courage and
benevolence like Lady Zariel."

"Speaking of Kreeg," Rowan said quickly, turning to Falaster, "you said he might be in the secret
shrine?"

"Yes," he said, relieved at the change in subject. He pointed to a section of wall. "Through there."

Now that she was looking for it, Pariah could see the faint outline of a hidden door. She was tired
and aching, but their adventure was nearing the end. "Then let's go," she said.
Ryland led the way, pushing on the wall to pivot open the secret door. The group quickly followed
him through the opening to find a much smaller room lit by a pair of tall wrought-iron candlesticks
in the far corners. Nine candles burned atop each one, casting flickering light across a claw-footed
altar carved from a single block of obsidian. A small flame erupted from the top of the altar, and
Pariah thought the flame looked a bit like a winged humanoid. A gray-haired woman knelt before
the altar.

The woman rose slowly as they entered the room and turned to face them. Pariah recognized this
was the same woman represented by the wax statue on the main floor: Duke Thalamra
Vanthampur. She was broad-shouldered and muscular. She was dressed in fine clothes and carried
no weapons, but she emanated an aura of malevolence. Eyes with irises as black as the obsidian of
the altar swept over the group, coming to rest on Pariah.

"Levistus dares strike at Lady Zariel through a peasant like you?" she scoffed. "His centuries of
imprisonment have clearly broken his mind."

"Why do you speak of Lady Zariel?" Ryland demanded. "Why do you blaspheme her holiness with
your profane acts?"

She looked at him and laughed. "Holiness? My lady freed herself of that disease when she rose to
serve at Asmodeus's right hand. She took her rightful place as ruler of Avernus, and will soon be
Queen of the Nine Hells."

Ryland roared and charged at her, blades flashing in the candlelight. Thalamra moved with
unexpected speed, her calloused fist cracking into Ryland's jaw, staggering him. He recovered
quickly, slashing her with his longsword. Her eyes flashed as she was wounded, and fire suddenly
swirled around him in much the same way Pariah was able to do with cold.

Lythienne and Pariah had been caught by surprise by Ryland's charge, but they quickly closed the
distance and joined the attack. She was strong and had some kind of magic, but she also had no
armor and was not prepared for battle. After taking more wounds, the duke's eye's shifted behind
Pariah. The old woman again moved with surprising speed, slipping around her towards another
wall. She slammed into the wall, causing a section to pivot so she could slip through.

"Another door?" Falaster said in surprise. "Quickly! Don't let her get to the vault!"

Ryland was on the duke's tail and Pariah was close behind, but the old woman was lightning fast.
Through the door was one of the corridors they had already traversed. Ryland pounded down the
walkway after her, but his heavy armor slowed him. Pariah leapt across the sewer trench to run
along the other walkway, but the woman reached the turn to the vault well ahead of them. Pariah
had already seen the key in her hand and heard the sound of a heavy latch opening. Pariah came
around the corner close behind Ryland, and just in time to see him run her through. She groaned
and pitched forward through the opening door.

Pariah heard a shriek of surprise. Past the opening door was an old man in plain clothing carrying a
lit candlestick. He looked down at the duke's body in horror, and then backed up fearfully when
faced with Ryland's bloody sword.

"My lord!" Ryland exclaimed in relief. "You are safe!"

"Don't hurt me!" the man begged, his eyes widening even further as the rest of the group arrived.

Ryland quickly lowered his weapon. "It's all right, my lord. My named is Ryland Mantlemorn, one
of the Hellriders. I'm here to rescue you."
It took the man a moment to understand what Ryland was saying. "Rescue me?" he repeated. "Oh,
yes, of course. I'm so thankful. It has been awful here!"

Pariah could tell the man, who she assumed was Kreeg, was lying. She scanned the room to see
four wooden tables with two small wooden coffers atop each one. Hanging on the wall opposite
the door, just behind Kreeg, was a beautiful golden shield. However, what really stood out to her
was the shadow of the man cast by his candlestick. The shadow didn't look like a man. Rather it
appeared to be the shadow of a pudgy, horned fiend with small wings.

"Why are you here?" Pariah asked. "Here in the vault, I mean. They have a prison."

Ryland shot her a look of irritation, which Pariah ignored. Kreeg said, "Well, you see, I
was...um...captured by the duke's guards. I was outside the city when Elturel fell. It was awful! My
heart broke to see my city sucked into the darkness like that!" He wailed, "How could the gods let
such tragedy strike the noble people of Elturel."

"Milil preserve us," Lythienne mumbled. "An actor that bad needs some rotten fruit thrown at
him."

Not hearing her comment, Kreeg continued. "I fled to this city, only to be seized by brutish soldiers
and dragged here. This terrible woman," he nodded at the body on the floor, "insisted she needed
my help." He waved at the golden shield. "This is some kind of celestial artifact and she wanted me
to ascertain its magical properties."

"Why you?" asked Pariah.

"I am a high priest of Torm. She thought that would give me some insight into this item."

"Before we continue," Rowan said, "perhaps we should attend to our wounded. Most of my magic
is spent. Perhaps you could heal our wounds."

He shifted nervously. "Alas, I wish I could, but I have spent my prayers trying to divine the nature
of this shield. Under threat of my life, of course. I would never help such a vile woman otherwise. I
have nothing left for healing."

"Really," said Rowan, suspicion creeping into her voice. "That is unfortunate."

In frustration, Pariah said, "Am I the only one who sees that?" She pointed at the man's shadow.
From the gasps of surprise, the others apparently had not noticed.

The man turned, but the light of his candle moved as he did and the shadow disappeared. Farima lit
up her staff and the bright illumination cast his fiendish shadow on the wall before him. "Can you
explain this?" she asked in the judgmental tone she usually reserved for Pariah.

The man stammered for a bit. "Oh, the horror," he exclaimed melodramatically. "The curse of this
fiendish place must have corrupted me. Please, get me out of here so we can cleanse me of this
evil."

"Who are you really?" demanded Farima.

"I am Thavius Kreeg," the man said desperately. "I swear!" Pariah didn't detect any outright
dishonesty from him, but sensed some kind of deception.

"Stop!" said Ryland, interposing himself between Kreeg and Farima. "Again, you people cast
aspersions on this man. I will not have it."
"Prove you are a priest of Torm," said Rowan. "Even when exhausted, you should be able to
manifest some minor miracle." Her voice hardened. "Unless you are an imposter. Or you have
committed evil acts that have caused Torm to abandon you."

"What?" he said, growing more fearful. "Of course not. How dare you question me? I do not have
to prove anything. Hellrider, protect me!"

Ryland stood against the group, though Pariah could see his resolve was weakening. She said,
"Where did you sleep when you weren't here with the shield?"

"Um, in the prison cells of course," he said. "Because I am a prisoner."

"No," said Falaster, still standing outside the door to the vault. "I've been there for several days. I
never saw him."

The man was growing pale. "Well, that was, um, that was before the...I mean I was imprisoned
there before you came. Now, they put me in another room. But it's still a prison cell."

"Ryland," Rowan said gently. "Something is going on. I don't think this is Kreeg."

"I know this is the overseer," he said, the doubt heavy in his voice. "I've seen him. I know this is
him."

Pariah concentrated and changed her form to match the overseer's. "Appearances can be
deceiving," she said before changing herself back.

Ryland looked conflicted. "That's not proof."

"Then let him show us," said Rowan. "Any priest knows a thousand small prayers that manifest as
minor miracles. Show us one."

"I told you," Kreeg said. "I'm exhausted. I cannot do that. Perhaps you could take me to my room
so I can rest."

"You mean back to your cell?" Lythienne said dryly. "You don't want us to take you out of here?"

He stammered, "I mean, of course I want you to take me out of here, I just meant...You are
confusing me! I have done nothing wrong!"

Farima suddenly said loudly, "Who is speaking?" She looked around and then her eyes settled on
the shield. She cocked her head for a moment and then stepped forward to kneel in front of the
shield on the wall. "I am honored, my lord. How may I assist you?"

The rest of the groups exchanged puzzled glances. Farima said over her shoulder, "This man is
Overseer Kreeg, but he is lying. He serves the Hells now, formerly through Duke Vanthampur.
Rowan is correct; Torm has abandoned him. In fact, abandoned him long ago. He serves one of the
archdevils now." She seemed to be listening. "This shield binds a celestial being who calls himself
the Hidden Lord. Duke Vanthampur wanted to harness his power. He says Kreeg sacrificed Elturel
to his evil master, but we can still rescue the city." She paused. "Is there no other way?" she said,
and then she nodded. "He says that to save the city, we must take him to Elturel. In the Nine Hells."

There was a heavy silence over the group. "Yes, my lord," Farima said rising. "Of course." She
reached out and lifted the shield off the wall. "Do you know how we might accomplish this, my
lord?" she asked as she strapped the shield to her back. Pariah noticed the intricate and abstract
pattern on the shield. In this light it almost looked like a face, moving in disturbing ways as the
shadows shifted.

"If you are intent on going to the Hells," said Falaster, "I might be able to help you. Well, my
master, Sylvira, anyhow."

"In Candlekeep?" Farima asked. He nodded. She said, "Then that is where I must go."

"Whoa!" said Rowan. "One step at a time. Kreeg, do you know about the Cult of the Dead Three?"

The man was sitting on the floor now, his head in his hands. "Lady Zariel, help me, please," he
begged.

"See?" said Ryland. "He calls on the angel, Zariel. Clearly he does not serve the devils." From his
tone, Pariah wasn't sure even he believed that.

Diplomatically, Falaster said, "Ryland, there is an archdevil named Zariel. Perhaps she is not the
angel who led the Hellriders, but she does exist. That is who he calls to."

Pariah was losing patience. She sheathed her sword, stepped forward and hauled Kreeg to his feet.
"Enough!" she said to him. "Answer us. Truthfully. What do you know of the Dead Three?"

He stared at her blankly for a moment and then said in a despondent voice, "I know that Thalamra
was behind them. They were to create disorder in the city. Undermine faith in the Flaming Fist. I
don't know much more than that."

"Was she planning to sacrifice Baldur's Gate to the Hells? What was her deal with Zariel?"

Kreeg shrugged gloomily. "She didn't confide in me. I overheard her once talking about having
power in Avernus, and I believe she was offering Baldur's Gate as payment."

"So the deal didn't die with her?" Farima asked sternly. He again just shrugged.

"Did..." Ryland started and then stopped. He started again. "Did you sacrifice Elturel?" Kreeg met
his gaze and then just looked away. That was answer enough, and Pariah felt the anger in Ryland.
She was afraid he might do something rash.

"Let's take him to Zodge," she said quickly to the others, hoping to forestall any action from
Ryland. "Whatever else we do, I want to get out from under his thumb." She turned to Ryland and
said, "And he should stand trial for his crimes, right? Let the full truth come out." He hesitated but
then nodded at her.

"I still want to cleanse this place of its evil," said Farima.

Pariah groaned. To Kreeg she said, "How many devils are down here?"

He thought about it. "The big one in the temple. Another one in the prison. Three in the store room.
I think that's it."

"Any other big threats?"

He shrugged. "Some of Lady Zariel's cult. Maybe a dozen or so. A couple of high priests. That's
about it." His voice was dead, his face expressionless. He wasn't even looking at her anymore, just
staring sightlessly into the distance.

She pulled the puzzle box from the sling on her back. "Do you know how to open this?"
 He stared at it dully for a moment. "No," he said. "She never showed me."

"Where did you get it?" He looked at her and then looked away. He didn't answer. "Where did you
get it?" she asked again, but he was gone, lost inside his own head.

She turned to the others. "Let's lock him in a cell, finish clearing this place, then we can take him to
Zodge. All right?"

There was a general mumble of agreement.

She turned to Farima. "And I'm taking some stuff," she said emphatically. "It seems like fair
payment for cleaning up a devil cult."

Farima grimaced. "Very well," she said. "But don't be greedy about it."

"Me? Never."

Chapter End Notes

As mentioned, I run combats through Roll20 and then describe the battles creatively.
That killing blow against the barbed devil was a crit with maximum damage on her
rapier plus maximum damage on her Hex, all honest rolls. I use the "brutal critical"
house rule, where crits do max damage on the second die. They rolled a total of 5 crits
during the battle, and the devil managed one against Pariah.

I ended up giving Thalamra much higher HP because the battle was over too quickly. I
also gave her a slightly higher movement speed so she could get away from them. I
wanted her to flee to the vault to give them a reason to find Kreeg. I also decided that
Falaster didn't know about the other secret door, giving her a chance to escape.

I'm struggling to find a way to make Rowan useful in combat. I don't want to risk the
healer by having her run up to enemies, but her Sacred Flame is a joke against devils
(who get advantage on saves). I suppose I'll have to arm her with a crossbow just so
she can do something.

I'm going to switch to posting every two weeks for a bit. I write ahead of what I post --
I'm currently near the end of Chapter 20 -- in order to give myself some flexibility
when life happens. Well, life has happened and I will have less time to write. My last
three chapters have been slow to produce, and I'm likely to continue to be slow until
the end of the year. Plus I expect to hit a wall in 2-3 chapters where I'm going to have
to do some heavy planning, and that is going to take a while. I'd rather post reliably
every two weeks then to post every week until I run out of material and then erratically
after that.

I'll return to a weekly schedule once I have more writing time and start making more
rapid progress. I'm hoping that will be around January, or even late December.
 A Hearty Breakfast
Chapter Summary

The villa has been cleared. It's time to get some breakfast before heading to the watch
house to report their progress to Captain Zodge.

Chapter Notes

CW: Some fairly vulgar language coming up as they visit a tavern with...creative
menu items.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The group filed into the prison. Falaster was sitting on a bunk in an open cell and he looked up as
they entered. "How did it go?"

"Easy enough," said Ryland. "No more devils, just about a dozen of their worshippers."

"We also went back to the shrine and I blessed the altar," said Rowan. "I'm hoping that removes the
infernal presence from this place. No problems in here I assume?"

Falaster gave a sour look to Kreeg, who was sulking in a locked cell. "He's been whining, but that's
about all."

Farima approached the elderly woman's cell and opened the door, which was closed but not locked.
"Lady Thione-Hhune, it is time to go. We will escort you to your home."

She sniffed haughtily at Farima. "It's about time. Honestly, this so-called rescue has been quite
poorly executed. Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard is a personal friend. I shall file a complaint with
him about how poorly the Flaming Fist has performed."

Pariah held back an eye roll. She reminded herself that the woman was scared and tired. She
unlocked Kreeg's cell and said, "Let's go," grabbing his arm as he came hesitantly out of the cell.

They marched out of the prison and through the corridors to the storeroom. They proceeded up the
stairs and through the house until they reached the study. There they found Amrik and Thurstwell
still chained to the heavy coffee table. Amrik's jaw dropped when they entered.

"You're alive!" he exclaimed.

"Disappointed?" asked Pariah.

"Well, to be frank, a little bit."

"And Mother?" Thurstwell added hesitantly.

There was an awkward silence. Farima finally spoke up. "I'm afraid Duke Vanthampur refused to
cooperate. We were forced to defend ourselves."

"Dead?" asked Amrik.

Farima nodded.

"Well, then," he said jovially as he turned to his brother, "as the eldest, that's good news for you!"

"Brother!" Thurstwell hissed in disapproval. He looked shaken, but Pariah was getting the
impression he always looked like that.

Pariah unlocked their manacles and chained up Kreeg. When she was done, she turned to Amrik,
who was stretching his cramped muscles. She said to him, "You were our prisoner before. You
tried to run in the Low Lantern. What happened when you did?"

He studied her and then pointed to his side. "You stabbed me here."

"Yes. And then you tried to run here in the house. What happened then?"

His eyes narrowed but he pointed to his thigh and, with some amusement in his tone, said, "I
believe that's when you stabbed me here."

She turned to Kreeg. "Do you understand?" His eyes widened, and he nodded emphatically.
"Good," she said.

"Is your business done then?" Amrik asked.

"Yes," she said. "I'm afraid we left rather a mess downstairs though." She didn't bother mentioning
the contents of the leather bag she had slung over her shoulder. She had found the bag downstairs
and it had made it easier to carry the puzzle box, the book of Thurstwell's notes as well as platinum
and gold coins from the vault and a few other knick knacks taken under Farima's disapproving eye.

"So we are free to go?" asked Amrik.

She paused and said, "One more favor, I think." A hint of anxiety crossed his face. She said,
"Come to the courtyard. Tell the guards to let us go. I think there has been enough fighting."

"Oh, I can do better than that," he said, relief showing. He went to the curtain and drew it back and
then turned a crank to open the window. "Hey!" he shouted. "You there! Our guests will be
leaving. Do not interfere with them. Understand?"

She heard someone say, "Yes, my lord."

He looked back at her. "Satisfactory?" She nodded.

The group made their way to the front door. They exited cautiously, weapons sheathed but hands
on hilts in case it turned out to be a trap. Pariah didn't think the guards were a threat but was
concerned they might have called additional help. However, as they came out into the warm night
air, the guards stood back warily. The group made it to the gate and out into the street without a
problem.

Pariah relaxed as they exited the estate -- well, slightly anyhow. Although the streets of the Upper
City we relatively safe, years of Outer City life caused her to remained vigilant as they followed
Lady Thione-Hhune's directions to her family's home. It was located almost directly opposite to the
direction they wanted to go, but that seemed like a small inconvenience. The old woman's stamina
was fading by the time they reached Hhune House. It was smaller than the Vanthampur Villa,
though still very impressive to Pariah. Without even a thank you, the noblewoman pushed through
the gate to the grounds and shut the door firmly behind her.

The group exchanged glances, and then Pariah said, "Let's go see Zodge."

As they headed for the Manor Gate, the nearest gate to the Lower City, Lythienne said, "Anyone
want to stop for a drink first?"

Pariah laughed, but then paused. It was still the dark hours of the early morning. "You know," she
said slowly, "that's not a bad idea." The others looked at her skeptically and she explained. "It's
better to hand him to Zodge, not some soldier who's going to take credit. And we need to tell Zodge
what happened. Better to wait until after sunrise. He'll be at the station then. So let's stop for an
early breakfast."

Rowan considered that. "I could eat," she admitted. She sighed, "Or sleep, but I suppose that can
wait."

"There is a charming place called the Smilin' Boar on our way," Lythienne said brightly. "They
have an extensive breakfast menu."

Rowan raised an eyebrow. "You keep using that word 'charming'. I feel like I have a different
definition of that word than you do."

Lythienne chuckled politely. "I'm sure you will enjoy it."

The Manor Gate was one of the patriar gates, usually reserved for the nobles of the Upper City, but
a flash of a Flaming Fist badge and the guards let them through. The Smilin' Boar was on the next
corner after the gate. This part of the city was called Bloomridge, the nicest of the Lower City
neighborhoods. There were more streetlamps, the streets were better maintained, and the buildings
brightly painted.

The Smilin' Boar was less a tavern and more a nice little café. The furniture was newer and less
beat up than the places Pariah was used to. The customers weren't exactly genteel, mostly being
dockworkers who were either starting or ending their shifts at the nearby pier. There were a
number of open tables, a bar, and behind that a kitchen with a human chef working industriously.

A 40-ish halfling woman with wavy auburn hair and the faint dwarvish look of a strongheart was
carrying a tray of orders. Her face lit up when she saw the group. "Lythienne," she grinned. "You're
out late."

"As always," Lythienne grinned back.

The halfling looked her over a bit more critically, noting the blood on her clothes. "You've been up
to some mischief." She looked over the rest of the group. Her gaze rested briefly on Kreeg's chains
and she looked back at Lythienne with raised eyebrows. Lythienne just shrugged in return.

"None o' my business," the halfling said. "Have a seat!" She nodded at one of the larger tables.
"Menu's on the board." She headed to one of the tables to drop the orders off.

"Pariah," Lythienne said. "I can order for you. What are you in the mood for?"

To Pariah the board was just meaningless scribbles. "Meat and bread is what I usually go for."

Lythienne studied the menu. "Maybe a little yogurt as well?"

"Sure." She glanced at the rest of the group and was surprised to see Ryland and Farima turning red
as they studied the menu. She felt waves of embarrassment radiating off them.

Lythienne caught it as well. "Oh, my," she said. "I'm afraid I forgot about this place. Perhaps we
should go elsewhere."

"No," said Farima firmly. "This is fine." Ryland didn't say anything, but he was clearly
uncomfortable. Pariah was confused.

The halfling came back. "Beer or coffee?" she asked.

"Coffee, I think," Lythienne said, looking at the rest of the group. Most of them nodded.

The halfling yelled over her shoulder at the chef, "I need a Big Black Crock!" She turned back and
said, "Are you eating?"

"Yes," Lythienne said. She nodded at Pariah. "She'll have the Wedding Night. I'll take Umberlee's
Gash and a Virgin's Bed."

The halfling nodded. "And the rest of you?"

Rowan said "Baby Gravy and a Sweet Little Crumpet."

Kreeg shook his head. "Nothing, thank you," he said weakly. He looked like he was going to be
sick, but he'd looked at that since the villa.

Falaster said, "Funbags and Nutsacks, please."

Pariah was growing increasingly confused, but started to laugh.

It was Ryland's turn and he was tongue tied. Taking pity on him, the halfling said, "It's all right.
You don't have to use the names if you don't want to."

He mumbled, "Cherry pie."

"Eat Her Cherry," the halfling confirmed. She turned to Farima.

Farima, her face beet red, glared at her and said defiantly, "I would like A Good Porking and Cum
on my Tits."

"All right," the woman said. "Out in a few minutes."

Pariah was still laughing. "What in the Nine Hells?" she asked.

"Jentha," Lythienne said, nodding at the halfling, "has a somewhat ribald sense of humor. And this
neighborhood is a bit...conventional, so she decided to stir things up when she opened the place."
She turned to the others. "I do apologize," she said. "I genuinely didn't mean to embarrass anyone."

Ryland and Farima both shrugged, but the redness in their faces wasn't fading. Pariah felt a little
guilty that she had laughed. She hadn't meant to make them feel worse. In an effort to change the
subject, she said, "So what is the plan after we talk to Zodge?"

"I would like Sylvira to see that puzzle box," said Falaster. To Pariah he said, "I don't suppose
you'd let me take it to her."

Pariah shook her head. "No, but I can come with you to Candlekeep."
"That would be acceptable."

Farima said, "And you said Sylvira might know how to get to Elturel?"

"Perhaps," he said. "If she doesn't, then there are a number of scholars and wizards at Candlekeep
who would be of help."

"Then I will come as well," she said.

"Me too," added Ryland. "I have to do everything possible to save Elturel."

"Rowan?" Pariah asked her.

"I'd like to come along," she said. "At least as far as Candlekeep." She paused. "I'm not sure I'm
willing to go as far as the Nine Hells, though."

"The temple won't mind if you leave?"

She shook her head. "Tymoran priests often come and go as the whim strikes. Following fate and
all that."

All eyes turned to Lythienne. "Well," she said cheerfully, "no reason to break up the troupe. I'll
come along, at least as far as the keep." Pariah frowned. There was something else there, not a lie
but something hidden. She shook it off. This devil's sight was making her see secrets everywhere.

Rowan said, "I do have one concern. We are all pretty beat up. My prayers have kept us going, but
magical healing doesn't take the place of good old-fashioned bed rest."

Ryland scowled. "We don't know how long we have to save the city. I say we should leave
immediately."

Farima cocked her head as she listened to the voice only she could hear. "The Hidden Lord agrees.
Elturel may have only days left."

"It's a five-day journey to Candlekeep," said Falaster. He studied Pariah for a moment. "Do you
have any insight into Elturel's fate?"

Pariah was puzzled by the question. "Me? Why?"

"I thought you might have some contacts with better information."

"No," she said, still puzzled.

Falaster gave her a look of frustration. He ran his eyes over the rest of the group and then said to
Pariah, "May I speak with you outside?"

"Um...I guess," she said hesitantly. She picked up her bag -- she didn't feel right leaving the puzzle
box out of her sight -- and followed him out of the Smilin' Boar. He led her around the corner into
an alley.

He turned to her. In a low voice he said, "Let me get to the point. Sylvira and I have been studying
Outer Planes beings for a long time. I know infernal magic when I see it." Pariah felt a creeping
uneasiness as he spoke. He assured her, "I'm not looking to reveal your secret. There are many
reasons one might choose to enter into such an arrangement, but if you have a fiend's ear, you may
be able to get information we could not."
Pariah's mind was whirling. She considered denying his statement, having seen how others had
reacted when they found out, but she also realized that would be futile. He wasn't guessing; he
knew. Besides, she detected no malice from him. Reluctantly she said, "He doesn't exactly come
when I call."

"I'm not trying to pry," he said, "so I understand if you won't answer. But, if I might ask, who is
your patron?" She gave him a puzzled look. "Who did you make the pact with?" he explained.

"He says his name is Levistus."

Falaster looked stunned. "I know the denizens of the villa referred to him, but I just assumed you
were working with one of his subordinates. It never occurred to me you were dealing with him
directly. Are you sure it's him?" He looked troubled.

"Yeah, why?" she asked. "What's the problem?"

"Well, that is a bit of a longer conversation, but for now I will say that Levistus is one of the
archdevils, one of the nine most powerful devils in existence. Most pacts are with lesser beings.
Archdevils rarely take interest in..." He trailed off.

"Filth like me?" she asked hotly.

"No," he said quickly. "That wasn't how I meant it. In fact, just the opposite. If he has taken an
interest in you, that implies you are quite important." He blow out a long breath. "Sylvira will
definitely want to have a very long conversation with you and I hope to be present for that. But for
right now, I return to my previous statement. If you have the ear of one of the archdevils, you may
be able to find out what the current state of Elturel is. Has he told you anything?"

She debated about whether to answer him but finally said, "He has said he's not behind Elturel. He
told me that Duke Vanthampur knew about Elturel and was maybe going to do the same thing to
Baldur's Gate. And the puzzle box has something to do with saving both cities. Or something like
that. He wants me to open it. Or find someone who can."

He pulled on his crimson beard thoughtfully. "Can you ask him how much time Elturel has? I
agree with both of your friends: we need to hurry and yet we should not charge in without
preparation. It would be easier to plan if we knew what kind of time span we were dealing with."

"I can try," she said uncertainly. She closed her eyes and said, "Levistus. Can you hear me?"
Silence. "I need to talk to you." Nothing. With irritation she said, "I think you can hear me all the
time. I think you just play games like this because you like to annoy me. How long does Elturel
have left?" No response.

She sank more deeply into herself and the city around her faded away. "You have me on a path. I
see that. It's like you are leading me through the city, but you just point me from corner to corner
rather than telling me where we are going. Maybe if you tell me what the goal is, I know a better
way to get there." A distinct absence of words.

"Am I supposed to bow to you?" she asked snidely. "Would you believe me if I did? If I shouted
praise like those idiots in Zariel's temple, would you be fooled? I'm not your willing servant; I am
your victim. We both know that. But you are useful to me and I'm useful to you. So be useful! How
long does Elturel have left?"

The empty stillness around her was all she sensed. She was just about to give up, when the
coldness swept over her. "You would give me orders?"
"No," she said carefully. "But don't pretend I'm one of your brain-dead cultists either. I have value
to you. But that only works when you tell me what I need to know." She knew she was playing a
dangerous game and her heart was thundering in her chest.

Darkness and cold and anticipation and then, "Time does not pass the same in the Hells as it does
in the Prime," said the voice that put ice in her veins. "It is not the predictable, linear ticking of
some mechanism. However, to put it in terms your tiny mortal mind will understand, Elturel will
not fall if you take time to be ready for what is ahead. The souls of that city are doomed without
intervention but, by the measure of your childish view of time, that doom is many weeks distant."

"What about the shield?" she asked. "Whatever is inside that said days."

He chuckled. "What is a week but many days? So it is not incorrect, but that doesn't mean it's the
truth. Who would you trust: some random piece of sapient metal or your lord and master?"

She ground her teeth. "Thank you for your help," she forced out. No reason not to show at least a
little courtesy to a powerful immortal evil.

The world around her swam back into focus as she opened her eyes. Falaster was staring at her
intently. "Weeks," she said, cold fog coming from her mouth. She shivered even though the night
was warm. "He said Elturel has weeks. And that we should prepare for what's ahead." She shook
her head. "Talona's tits, I just know he's going to ask me to go to Elturel."

Falaster reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "Thank you. And I want to assure you, your secret is
safe with me. It's not mine to share."

"Thanks," she said. "For what it's worth, the others knew. Rowan. Lythienne. Farima."

"Oh?" he said in surprise. "And they are comfortable with it?"

She laughed bitterly. "Gods, no. Farima hates me. Well, doesn't hate me but feels something pretty
close to that. Lythienne doesn't seem to care either way. Rowan..." She thought about it. "She's
more complicated. She definitely doesn't like what I did, but it's more like she's worried about me."

"Ryland?"

"He does not know," she said firmly. "I think he'd have a problem with it." She furrowed her brow.
"Was what you said true? About Zariel? I mean I don't know who that is, but he seemed pretty
upset."

Falaster looked towards the door of the Smilin' Boar. "Well, that's another long story, but yes. The
Hellriders say that the angel Zariel, who led them on an assault into the Nine Hells, died in battle
there. In reality, she swore fealty to Asmodeus and became one of the nine archdevils. The
leadership of the Hellriders canonized her and has been covering up their own history for 140
years, so I can see how one of the younger recruits would be scandalized by the truth. I suggest we
don't push it with the young man."

She nodded. "Agreed."

He motioned to the door. "Shall we?"

They went back inside to find the halfling serving out their breakfast dishes. Ryland was pouring
everyone coffee from a large earthenware pitcher. Lythienne had a plate of salmon arranged to look
like female genitalia, and a piece of toast with a splash of cherry jam. Rowan was just tucking into
a plate of baked eggs in cream sauce and a honey-soaked biscuit. Ryland was looking suspiciously
at a piece of cherry pie. Farima had a plate of ham, bacon and small sausages, and a shallow bowl
with a peach, peeled and halved, served cut side down. The peaches were drizzled with heavy
cream. At Falaster's empty seat was a pair of vaguely breast-shaped meat pies, and round pastries
containing minced pecans. Pariah sat down to a plate with an eight-inch sausage thrust through the
hole of a bagel, with a generous dollop of yogurt on one end.

As they started to eat, Falaster said, "It looks like Elturel is not in imminent danger. We can
proceed with caution, though certainly the people of the city would appreciate the earliest rescue
that can be mounted."

"And how do you know that?" Ryland asked suspiciously.

Pariah spoke up. "Falaster was right. I did have someone I could ask. He said Elturel has at least
several weeks."

Ryland's suspicions grew. "And this person happened to be standing right outside this building?"

Pariah met his gaze. "You know magic is a thing, right? That you don't have to be next to someone
to talk to them? I was able to contact him and ask."

Ryland didn't seem satisfied. "And who is this contact?"

"Someone who would know what happened," she said firmly.

"It's fine, Ryland," interjected Lythienne as a look of understanding crossed her face. "It is
someone who would know."

"Someone you trust?" he asked her.

Lythienne equivocated a bit, and then said, "Well, as long as it is in his best interest."

"Which," Pariah added, as much to the rest of the group as to Ryland, "I'm starting to believe it is."

There was an awkward stillness as the others digested this information. Rowan interrupted the
silence by saying, "Then we can rest for a few days. Let our injuries heal." She sighed. "And if
there is a possibility we may be fighting more of those things, we should probably do some
shopping."

"Farima," Pariah said abruptly, "I'll go with you. To Elturel, if that's where you have to go."

The woman looked at her suspiciously. "Is that what your...contact suggested?" she asked
derisively.

"No. I'm not going to lie, I think he'll ask me to. That's why I wanted to say it now. Before he
does." Pariah looked at Farima earnestly. "I want to save the people of Elturel. I mean that. They
are innocent in all this. I'll go with you. Even to the Hells."

A number of emotions crossed Farima's face, and Pariah could feel her conflict. "Thank you," the
woman finally managed to say, in a tone that was half gratitude and half suspicion. "I appreciate
that."

With that out of the way, the group dug eagerly into their food.

The eastern sky was light as they came out of the Smilin' Boar. Pariah felt the exhaustion hit her all
of a sudden. The meal and the coffee had helped, but somehow the rising sun was a reminder she
hadn't slept and her energy started to fade. Plus, as Rowan had said, prayers didn't so much heal
injuries as postpone them. She still needed rest.

The mornings were Pariah's favorite times to walk the streets of the city. The nighttime thugs had
retired, and the daytime crowds hadn't gathered yet. The morning sun made the city look cleaner as
it burned off the thick fog that usually rolled in from the sea. Baldur's Gate almost seemed like a
decent place to live in the light of dawn.

They arrived at the Flaming Fist barracks near the Basilisk Gate without any trouble. "Perhaps I
should wait out here," said Ryland nervously as they neared the barracks. Pariah remembered that
he was apparently wanted by the Fist.

"Sure," she said, looking at the others for their objections. "We don't really need him, right?"

"I don't think so," said Rowan. "We have all the information necessary."

With a nod, he headed off to an alley nearby to wait. The rest of them entered the barracks. A
dwarven sergeant with a braided beard and a face full of scars eyed them critically. "Whaddya
want?" he demanded.

"We are here to see Captain Zodge," said Pariah.

"Zodge ain't here. Come back later." He turned away from them.

That was disappointing. "When will he be here?"

"How should I know?" he said over his shoulder. "He'll be here when he's here."

Maybe it was the fatigue, the ache of her wounds, or just her general orneriness but Pariah had had
enough. She grabbed the dwarf by the shoulder and whirled him back around. She wasn't all that
much taller than he was and had far less muscle, but she gave him her most intimidating glare
anyhow. "We are here at Zodge's direct orders to report on two cults in the city we have shut
down. This man," she pointed at Kreeg, "knows what happened at Elturel and may help stop it
from happening here. So I'm going to ask you nicely one more time: Where. Is. Zodge?"

He met her defiant stare for a moment, and then looked over the rest of the group. "Fine," he
grumbled. "But Zodge will have your ass if you're interrupting him for nothing. Wait here." He
headed through a door deeper into the barracks.

After a few minutes, Zodge came through that same door, clearly not in a good mood. "Who in the
Hells is interrupting my breakfast?" he demanded. He looked over the group and, as his eyes came
to Kreeg, he hesitated. "Hmmph. You have the high overseer of Elturel in chains. There better be a
good story here. Come on."

He led them into the same office they had seen him in before. He sat down at his desk and pointed
at Pariah. "You! You were the mouthiest one before. Report! And make it quick. My porridge is
getting cold."

Pariah hadn't expected to be put on the spot like that, but she coped. "Your agent sent us to a bath
house. The...uh..."

"Nymph's Garden," Lythienne offered.

"Yeah. That one. Anyhow, under that was some sewer tunnels. A cult worshipping the Dead Three
was set up there, run by Mortlock Vanthampur, Duke Vanthampur's son." Zodge made an
interested grunt, but didn't interrupt. She continued. "He told us his mother was behind it. We went
to the Vanthampur place and she was not only behind the Dead Three cult, but we also found a cult
worshipping the devil Zariel in tunnels below her house. We also found Kreeg there. He sacrificed
Elturel to Zariel, though we might be able to rescue the city from the Hells. And it looks like Duke
Vanthampur has made a deal like that about Baldur's Gate." She hesitated. "Um, that's about it."

Zodge raised his bushy eyebrows. "Well, you've all had a busy couple of days." He looked over the
group. "I see none of the Vanthampurs here. Did you kill them all?"

"No," said Pariah. "The duke wouldn't surrender; she is dead. Two of the sons, Thurstwell and
Amrik, are still at their house. Um, I guess we didn't think to bring them." That seemed like a
mistake in hindsight. "We let Mortlock go because he helped us by telling us about his mother. He
has probably left the city."

Zodge snorted. He looked over Falaster. "And who are you?"

"Falaster Fisk, my good captain," he said with a smile. "I am a scholar from Candlekeep who also
has a residence in Little Calimshan. I have been a prisoner of the Vanthampurs for quite some time
so I can attest to the veracity of the statements of Duke Vanthampur's activities. A fellow prisoner
was Lady Satiir Thione-Hhune of Hhune House. You may wish to speak with her as well."

Rowan said, "With Duke Vanthampur's death, both cults are done. The murders should stop."

"And," Falaster added, "I imagine much of the unrest in this city that has occurred in the last few
years may have been an indirect result of the corruptive energies produced by the devil
worshippers. One might hope that crime rates will drop significantly now that they are gone."

"So," said Lythienne. "It seems our business dealings have come to a close. Would you agree?"

Zodge scowled at the group and then bellowed, "Hjolkam!"

The dwarf stuck his head in through the doorway. "Yes, captain."

Zodge pointed at Kreeg. "Put him in a cell. And send a squad to Vanthampur Villa. Search the
place top to bottom and arrest everyone." The dwarf nodded and exited. "The rest of you, take the
rest of the day off. Tomorrow I want you to head to the Shrine of the Suffering. The priest there
says there is some creature in his basement. Take care of it."

The group looked at each other in confusion. "Why are you all still here?" Zodge demanded.

"Captain Zodge," said Farima coldly. "We had an agreement. We have fulfilled our end of it. We
expect you to do the same."

"Do you really?" he snarled. "Well, I'm understaffed and overworked so I guess we both are going
to be disappointed. You are going to help me out, or maybe I'll just start looking into that priest's
murder again."

Pariah felt her anger rising. Her hand fell to the hilt of her weapon as she said, "Listen, you son of-"

"Captain," Lythienne said, putting a hand out to steady Pariah. She gave Zodge a dazzling smile.
"We have other business directly related to the disappearance of Elturel. We need to attend to that
urgently."

Her flirty attitude didn't move him. "Elturel can rot in the Abyss for all I care," he said. "I need
bodies. You are here. You are going to help."
Everyone started talking at once, and Pariah could feel Zodge's anger rising as fast as her own was.
She was wondering if this was going to come to blows, and whether they were strong enough to
take on the entire barracks, when a voice behind her bellowed, "Commander in the room!"

Zodge's face paled as he looked at the doorway, and he snapped to attention. Pariah turned to see
two plate-armored men standing on either side of a gray-haired woman who radiated authority. She
was also fully armored and wore a white cloak. "Outside," she said to the man next to her and the
two men exited the room. "Close the door," she added, and they did.

She scanned the group. "Are these the maniacs who've stirred up every nest of rats in this gods-
forsaken city?"

"Commander Portyr!" said Zodge nervously. "I was told you wouldn't be in Baldur's Gate for at
least another tenday."

"That's what the city's government wanted you to think, captain," she replied. To the others in the
room she said, "I trust you've been adequately compensated for your efforts?"

"No!" said Pariah quickly. "In fact, Zodge is welching on his agreement with us."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is this true, captain?"

"No, commander," he stammered. "These people...well, yes, we had an agreement...but we are

short handed so I..."

"Was planning to cheat them of their pay? Was planning to threaten them with criminal charges?"

Everyone in the room was shocked, except for Falaster who just looked confused.

"I don't know what you mean, commander," said Zodge, still at attention but with a bead of sweat
gathering at his forehead.

"I believe you were planning to tell me they murdered a priest of Tymora, correct? Or maybe I
have that wrong." Her voice grew hard. "Perhaps you were going to report they hunted down a
serial rapist who has been preying on your city for months if not years, and they did your job for
you." She slowly started to walk towards him. "And then went on two destroy two cults that were
operating under your nose, saving countless lives!" She was nose to nose with him now. "Is that
what you were planning to tell me, captain?" she demanded.

"Yes, commander," he said weakly.

"Get out," she sneered. "Your porridge is getting cold."

"Yes, commander." He scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

The woman sat in the chair he had vacated. She motioned to the other chairs in the room. "Please,"
she said politely, her anger gone. The group took their seats nervously. She said, "My apologies for
the captain's behavior. To be fair, the Flaming Fist has been struggling lately due to the rise in
crime from a number of sources, not to mention the recent loss of their commander to the trouble in
Elturel. That does not excuse all of their behavior, of course. I have been sent to take over the
Flaming Fist and whip them into shape."

The door opened again and one of the heavily armored soldiers entered, his mailed fist firmly
gripping the arm of a scared-looking Ryland. "Sergeant," the commander chided gently. "Not so
rough. Mr. Mantlemorn is not a prisoner. He is a guest."
The man released his grip. "Pardon me, commander." He nodded in apology to Ryland and exited
the room.

"Have a seat," the commander said. "Do not worry. The charges against you have been dropped.
And the other man involved in the misunderstanding has recovered from his injuries."

"Thank you," Ryland said, his fear changing to confusion.

She took a deep breath and let it out as she surveyed the group again. "I supposed I should
introduce myself. I am Liara Portyr, commander of the Flaming Fist. I wish I could have been here
sooner, but I was stationed in Chult. The trip is somewhat arduous, even with the benefit of magic.
However, I still have extremely good sources of information here and it seems I arrived at the
perfect time. I already know of your actions at the bath house and Vanthampur Villa. The Flaming
Fist appreciates your help. And, since I gather you are not interested in continuing to serve with us,
you may return your badges now." She pointed at the desk. "Your full pay will be given to you
when you leave."

Pariah pulled her badge out of her pocket and placed it on the desk, soon to be joined by three
others. She still wasn't sure what was happening, but it seemed like the woman was being honest
and fair with them and that was a relief.

Portyr studied them for a bit longer before saying, "I have been recalled to Baldur's Gate by the
Council of Four -- though I suppose it's the Council of Two right now -- to take over the Flaming
Fist, hopefully just on a temporary basis. We all hope that Grand Duke Ravengard is still alive,
wherever Elturel has disappeared to." Pariah sensed genuine worry from the woman.

"I understand," the commander continued, "that you think you may be able to rescue Elturel. Is that
correct?"

"Perhaps," said Falaster. "We have two pieces of evidence -- this shield," he pointed to the shield
on Farima's back, "and a puzzle box of infernal origin -- that lead us to believe that. We would need
to consult with Sylvira Savikas in Candlekeep to be sure, and to formulate a plan if our suspicions
are true."

"And do you think Baldur's Gate is in danger?"

Falaster pulled at his beard. "I am unsure. Duke Vanthampur had apparently been intending to
sacrifice the city to the archdevil Zariel just as High Overseer Kreeg sacrificed Elturel. However,
we do not know the terms of her deal or, more importantly, if the contract was broken upon her
death." He looked thoughtful. "It might be helpful if, under the supervision of your soldiers of
course, I could examine any of Duke Vanthampur's possessions for more evidence."

She nodded. "I can arrange that. Anything else?"

"I understand the duke previously oversaw the sewage system in this city. I am concerned she
might have set up some kind of magical device designed to transport the city to the Hells as Elturel
was. I would suggest searching the sewers for any suspicious activity."

Portyr gave a sharp laugh. "The sewers are riddled with suspicious activity. However, I will see if I
can free some squads to investigate. Are you planning to stay in the city?"

Falaster said, "For a few days, but I feel we must head to Candlekeep quickly to find more
information. If I can get permission to leave the city, you can find me at my residence in Little
Calimshan until then. If you find any information or artifacts after I leave, perhaps you could rush
 them to Sylvira Savikas at Candlekeep. She and I will be able to inspect anything suspicious."

She nodded. "Very well. I will provide you all with passes to leave the city as well as horses and a
cart full of supplies for the trip."

"That is very generous of you, commander," Falaster said in astonishment.

"Not at all," she said. "If you can save Elturel and Baldur's Gate, then I will be grateful." She
hesitated. "And Grand Duke Ravengard is a family friend. I would be doubly grateful for his safe
return. When do you leave?"

"We need a few days to rest and recuperate," he replied. When she started to speak, he said quickly,
"And, based on our information, we are confident that we can spare that time without risking
Elturel's fate."

She nodded with satisfaction. "And the reward Zodge promised you?"

"Two hundred gold each," said Pariah. "For the four of us," she pointed to indicate the other three.

"Very well," she nodded. "Did you need anything else from me?"

The group looked at each other. The change in attitude was still disorienting them. "Not at the
moment, I believe," said Lythienne.

"If you do, you'll find me here," Portyr said. "Sergeant!" she shouted. The same man who had
escorted Ryland opened the door. "Provide eight hundred gold pieces to these people." To the
group she said, "When you decide on your date of departure, come see me a day or two in advance
so we can arrange your travel. I'll have your papers ready by then as well. Mr. Fisk, if you wish to
stay behind, I can have your exit papers ready immediately so you can return to Little Calimshan."
She stood. "And again, thank you for what you have done for Baldur's Gate, and what I hope you
will be able to do in the future."

Chapter End Notes

Surprise! I said I wasn't going to publish this week, but then I realized I should go
ahead and post this chapter. It wraps up the current story arc and this is a much better
spot to slow down the pace. This time I really am going to start posting every two
weeks for a while.

Man, I wanted them to get that mace +1 but I just couldn't justify it in the story. This is
the problem of being both the DM and the player: I don't want them to beeline to all
the treasure, but I still want them to get a few things. However, they are all Dexterity
based so want finesse weapons. The only one who might benefit from it would be
Rowan, and as mentioned I don't want the healer to be a melee fighter.

Their trip to the Smilin' Boar was unplanned. I just reasoned that stopping to wait for
sunrise made sense, and the place is located right near Hhune House. After deciding to
have them stop there, I read the description in the module and realized I'd have to get
creative. I'm actually kind of a prude, but I had tremendous fun coming up with those
menu selections.

And, yes, they have bagels in Baldur's Gate. As far as I'm concerned, it's canon now.
 A Familiar Face
Chapter Summary

The group rests for a few days before heading to Candlekeep to find out more about
what happened to the city of Elturel.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Even to the casual eye, something seemed a bit off about the Church of Last Hope. It was a simple
stone building, large and lacking any ornamentation. Despite its name, the symbol of no god hung
from the simple wooden doors that led into the building. It was less of a church and more of an
asylum for those whose psyches had cracked under the stress of anything from day-to-day life in
Baldur's Gate, to interactions with forces and beings the mortal mind was not able to comprehend.
A pall of sadness hung over it. Some said it was from the spirits of those who had taken their own
lives, while others thought it was a manifestation of the broken minds housed within.

Pariah tried to ignore the gloomy feeling in the air. She was sitting on the bench seat of the mule-
drawn wagon Commander Portyr had secured for them, next to Falaster who would be driving.
The wagon was loaded with supplies, both for the journey to Candlekeep and for their possible
journey beyond. The others sat astride horses, Farima holding the lead to Rowan's empty mount.
Rowan had wanted to visit the church on their way out of town to see an acquaintance and to
donate some of the money they had liberated from the Vanthampurs. Pariah remembered her
mentioning she knew someone here, though Rowan hadn't spoken of him other than that one time.

It was a five-day trip to Candlekeep. Pariah hadn't been outside the city since her mother
abandoned her, and she was both excited and a little nervous about the trip. She knew the city and
its ways by heart. It wasn't until today that it finally hit her that she was going into a foreign
environment, and that was just the trip to Candlekeep. She had no idea what to expect if she made
good on her promise to accompany Farima to the Nine Hells.

Her offer had been genuine at the time but she was starting to have second thoughts. If it was
necessary to save Elturel, then she would do it, but the Hidden Lord refused to give any hard
information. All he would say to Farima is that it was necessary to take the shield to Elturel, and
that the path forward would become clear when they arrived. She hoped the contents of the box
would shed more light on what needed to be done.

She and the other women had discussed Levistus and his role in this. They had all agreed, even
Farima, that it would make sense for Levistus to work against Zariel and try to interrupt her plan,
so he might be an ally of sorts. Of course he might also be trying to trick them into sacrificing
Elturel to him instead so they would have to be wary.

Falaster had not been available much since their encounter with the Vanthampurs. He had been
helping Portyr try to work out the duke's plan for Baldur's Gate. Nothing obviously pertaining to
her goals had been found in her residence, though Falaster was taking a few books and artifacts to
Candlekeep to be studied by Sylvira. Neither the duke's sons nor the servants had volunteered any
useful information. The Flaming Fist simply didn't have the manpower to search the sewers to see
if she had another secret headquarters.
The unfortunate part of Falaster's absence was that Pariah hadn't gotten the chance to talk to him
about her agreement with Levistus. She wasn't likely to be able to talk to him on the ride because of
Ryland's presence. She still didn't think it was a good idea to let the boy know about the archdevil.
She might have to wait until Candlekeep, but that might be better anyhow. Falaster had said that
Sylvira was the real expert, so she might have some insight into Pariah's situation.

The main door to the church opened and Rowan exited the building. She rejoined the group, staring
at nothing with a troubled air about her. "That was fast," Lythienne said.

Rowan looked up at her sadly. "He's not taking visitors today," she said. "He's...doing as well as
can be expected. But he has good days and bad days." She mounted her horse, her face still a mask
of concern. "Let's go," she said dully.

They returned to the main road that led to Wyrm's Crossing, Pariah's former neighborhood and the
bridge that led south out of the city. Ryland and Lythienne led the way. Behind them came the
wagon, and trailing that were Rowan and Farima.

They were prepared for the battles they knew would be ahead. Most of them sported new silvered
weapons, some had acquired better armor, and they all carried healing potions. Farima was
unhappy about the valuables Pariah had liberated from the Vanthampur estate, but her objections
faded when much of that money was spent on equipment that would help them fight any devils
that faced them and might contribute to the salvation of Elturel.

They had discussed selling the fire breathing potions they had gotten from beneath the bath house;
Pariah had forgotten they even had them. Devils and demons, their most likely opponents. could
not be hurt by fire, but in the end they decided to keep them. They might meet more vulnerable
enemies, and the money from selling them would do them little good.

As the caravan approached the bridge, Pariah felt herself becoming nostalgic. She had stayed away
from her old neighborhood since she'd left. It was too hard seeing people she used to know turning
away from her. She had spent most of her time since then in Sow's Foot, a neighborhood that
tended to attract the outcast races such as lizardfolk and the peoples of the Underdark.

They followed the road into Wyrm's Crossing proper. The sturdy stone bridge they crossed was
wide, but ramshackle wooden tenements, taverns, and shops crowded both sides of the span,
reducing the path to a narrow road barely wide enough for two wagons to pass each other, and in
some spots even narrower than that. More buildings clung to the sides of the bridge, anchored to
each other or cantilevered over the water. The bridge led to Wyrm's Rock, the Flaming Fist fortress
set on a rocky islet in the middle of the river. Past that, another bridge led from the fortress to the
mainland beyond.

Being back in her old neighborhood forced old memories to the surface, memories she wasn't
prepared to deal with. Maybe that's why she missed it. She knew this place, knew how things
worked, and yet her senses were dull. She didn't even realize anything was happening until Rowan
shouted, "The bag! He took the bag! The one with the puzzle box!"

That shook Pariah out of her reverie. She whirled around to see Rowan pointing a figure
disappearing into the crowd.

"After him," Farima cried.

"No!" Pariah shouted. "Don't. You'll never catch him."

"If he got the box, we must retrieve it," said Falaster, urgency in his voice.
"I know," she said. "I'll go."

"I'll go with you," said Lythienne.

"No," Pariah said. "You'll just scare him off."

"Him?" asked Farima.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I know who it was." She stood on the toe board of the wagon and scanned the
crowd until she spotted what she wanted. "You! Come here."

The boy who had been eyeing the group approached. "You know who I am?" she said. The boy
nodded. She indicated the rest of the group. "This is my crew now. They are off limits,
understand?" The boy looked them over and nodded again. She flipped him a gold coin that he
snatched out of the air. "Make sure the rest of the Crossers know." She flipped him another coin.
"And this is for the Rats. Give it to them with the same message. Got it?" He nodded, and scurried
ahead into the crowded roadway.

"You should be fine now," she said to the rest of the group while mentally cursing herself. She
should have known to pay the tolls. She was so used to being a local that she had forgotten she was
now an outsider. "Keep your eyes open anyhow, in case someone doesn't get the message." She
jumped down. "I'll meet you on the other side of Rivington."

"Are you sure you don't need help?" asked Rowan.

"I'm sure. Thanks."

She pushed into the crowd, her senses now alert, her hand on the hilt of her rapier. She didn't intend
to draw it; it was just a signal that she was not someone to be messed with. The locals recognized
her and scattered out of her way. It broke her heart to see that. These same people used to greet her
with smiles and jokes and claps on the back, but ever since that night she was something else,
something to fear, and that was never what she had wanted to be to them.

She reached her destination, an unassuming collection of scrap wood shoved up against the edge of
the bridge. To the casual eye there wasn't even an entrance, and that was true from street level. She
knew that to get inside you had to climb over the side of the bridge, pull yourself hand-over-hand
across the underside and up through a hidden door. However, she had another trick, one of her
recent gifts from Levistus. She wasn't sure it would work if she couldn't see her destination, but she
knew the inside of this building better than any patch of ground in the city. She closed her eyes,
visualized the interior of the shack, and stepped towards the wall. A cloud of ice crystals swirled
around her and she disappeared.

Pariah reappeared inside with another whisper of icy wind. She opened her eyes and, in the dim
light of a candle, she saw a small room. There was a straw mattress in one corner, a low table, and
an open wooden box with a few meager possessions. The man from the street sat on the floor,
pawing through the contents of the bag he had taken. He jumped to his feet at the sound of her
entrance and whirled on her, dropping the bag and brandishing a billy club he had taken from a
Flaming Fist soldier three years ago. He froze when he saw her face, and then his eyes dropped. He
lowered the weapon but said nothing.

"Hi, Janshi," she said.

"Hey, Mouse," he mumbled back, his eyes still on the floor. She could feel his nervousness.

It tore her up to see him react to her like this. "I need that bag back," she said gently. "I'll buy it off
you." She held out a handful of coins.

He stared at the money for a second and then held out a hand. "Sorry," he said quietly. "Didn't
know they were with you." The coins clinked heavily as she dropped them into his open palm. He
kicked the bag over. She could see the puzzle box inside and felt relief.

As she looked at him she realized that she might never see him again. Her life was about to take a
very strange turn, and she knew she might not ever be back here. She didn't want it to end like this.
As he secreted the coins into his clothing, she sat on the floor. She felt frustrated but tried to keep
her voice calm as she said, "Dammit, Jan, you've known me nearly my whole damn life. You were
my best friend. Why do you treat me like a stranger now? An enemy?"

He glanced at her and then looked away again. "I dunno," he mumbled.

Casting around for a safe subject, she said, "You remember when we first met?" Again he met her
gaze for a moment and he nodded. She said, "I was still on my own, remember? I think I was
hiding in a garbage pile. I was hungry and tired, too tired even to cry. Just scared and alone." She
smiled at the memory. "You had a moldy hunk of bread. You split it in half and gave me some.
Even gave me the bigger piece. I was scared to take it but I was so hungry. So I grabbed it and ate
it as fast as I could. Nearly choked on it. Remember that?"

She felt him relax a little bit. "Yeah," he said as he sat on the floor too.

"You talked to me." She smiled sadly at the memory. "Like I was some scared puppy. You calmed
me down. Made me feel like I wasn't alone. Remember?"

"Yeah," he said again.

She felt her voice start to break. "I'm the same person. The same person from before that stupid
night. I just wanted to save you all. And it's never been the same. And it's not fair!" She said that
last bit louder than she meant to, and she felt tears in her eyes. "I'm not asking you to drop to your
knees or tell me I'm a hero. I never wanted that from anyone. I'm just asking you to be my damn
friend, like you always were!"

He didn't say anything, just hugged his knees tightly.

"You've always had my back. Always. The rest of the crew, fine. Fuck 'em. It sucks after all I've
done for them over the years, but I can take this bullshit from them. But not from you. You are the
one person I could always trust. And I just don't understand why you are treating me like this. I'm
alone again and I hate it!"

He stayed silent and she couldn't talk anymore. This had been stupid. A mistake. Whatever
happened was over, and her old life was gone. It was like someone dying. You just had to move on,
accept that the person wasn't around anymore.

She was about to get up when he mumbled something she didn't quite catch.

"What?" she said sharply.

"I didn't think you'd leave," he said just loud enough for her to hear. "I mean I know I wasn't that
nice to you. I just was scared. You say you're the same, but I don't know. You got those black eyes
and that weird writing and that magic. And I saw what you did to those things. And I was scared.
But I thought we'd figure it out. In time. But then you left. And I didn't know what to do. Because
you were just gone."
"Of course I left," she said hotly. "Why would I stay? Everyone treated me like shit. Even you!"

"I know," he said.

"And it's not like I was hard to find if you really wanted to," she said angrily. "Just look for the
bitch with the horns. It's not like there's a lot of us around."

"I know," he said. "And I looked. You were in Sow's Foot, right?"

"Yeah," she said in surprise.

He shrugged. "See? I knew. I just didn't know if you wanted to see me. And then you were gone
from there too. And now." He waved a hand vaguely at her. "Now you're all high class and shit."

She laughed bitterly. "You think this is high class?" she asked.

"I don't know. Isn't it?"

She leaned back against the wall and stretched her legs out. "Yeah, I guess compared to the shit we
grew up with. But this isn't high class. You should have seen the Upper City place I was in a few
nights ago. A 'villa' they called it, whatever that means. Fancy word for 'house' I guess. They had a
butler. I don't know what butling is, but I guess this guy does it. Fancy statues. Fancy dishes. Fancy
clothes. Probably wipe their asses with silk hankies. Maybe rich people don't even shit at all.
Probably have servants do it for them." She furrowed her brow. "Maybe that's what butling is."

He looked sidelong at her. "You hanging out in the Upper City now?"

Annoyed, she said, "No, that's not what I'm saying. In fact we were..." She realized the real story
was a bit hard to believe. "...robbing the place." Not really a lie, just not the whole truth, like
something a devil would say. "Look, so I wear better clothes and I eat every day. That doesn't
change who I am."

He didn't reply. She said, "It was always you and me. I thought it always would be. And then the
biggest thing in my life happened and I wanted to tell you about it. It was a blessing and a curse and
I wanted you to be part of that."

"You wanted me to be part of your curse?" he said.

She heard the teasing in his voice and grinned. "Shut up. You know what I mean."

"Yeah," he chuckled back. Some of the tension in the room faded.

"I just mean a lot's happened and I want to tell my best friend about it. But he's not here."

After a long silence, he said, "I'm here now."

She looked over at him and he didn't look away this time. "Are you?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "So tell me."

She cast a look towards the ceiling. "Well, isn't this shitty timing." She looked back at him. "I
can't. I have to go now. It's a really long story and I just don't have time now. But...when I get back,
okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. Where are you off to?"

 "Candlekeep," she said. "It's some big library or something." He looked confused and she
shrugged. "Again, long story."

"When will you be back?"

She looked at him sadly. She might never come back to the city. "At least a tenday," she said,
another not-quite-a-lie. And then she added reluctantly, "Probably longer."

"Oh," he said in obvious disappointment.

"When I get back, I'll tell you all about it," she assured him. "Promise!"

"Okay."

She didn't want to go, but the others would be waiting. She stood and retrieved the bag. He stood
as well. They looked at each other in silence, not sure what came next. Again she reminded himself
she might never see him again. Feeling embarrassed, she stepped forward and clumsily put her
arms around him in a tight hug, the bag swinging awkwardly in her hand. He quickly returned the
hug. They held each other for a long time until he said, "Be careful, you dumb bitch."

She laughed. "Thanks, you selfish prick."

The moment stretched on but she finally let him go and he reluctantly did the same. "I'll be back as
soon as I can," she said.

"Okay." Hesitantly he added, "I'll say 'hey' to the crew for you, okay?"

That made her sad again. "Sure," she said without enthusiasm. She was less sure she could smooth
things over with them, but she'd just have to see what happened if she ever made it back.

"You going out your fancy way or the normal way?" he asked with a hint of mischief.

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that." She wasn't sure she could visualize the outside as well as the inside.
"Let's give it a try." She concentrated, stepped forward, and disappeared in a swirl of ice crystals.

Chapter End Notes

Pariah forgetting about the fire breathing potions means I forgot about them. I
complained a couple of chapters ago about Rowan being useless in combat. There
were situations where she could have used those potions. Well, we'll see what happens
in the future.

I know Misty Step won't let you walk through walls. I took a little dramatic license,
considering it was a place she was intimately familiar with.
 A Winding Road
Chapter Summary

It's a five-day ride to Candlekeep. It will probably be a boring trip, sitting in the cart,
watching the landscape pass, right?

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The road curved to skirt a forest that grew noticeably thicker as it stretched to their right, and the
sun setting behind the trees cast long shadows across the road in front of them. Falaster had told
her the forest was called the Cloak Wood. Pariah half listened as he told her stories of the
marauders, satyrs and portals to other realms that were said to be in the wood. It wasn't that she
didn't care; she was just a little tired of his voice by the end of the day. His stories had been
interesting for the first few hours, but were beginning to wear thin.

They were making their way to an inn further down the road. Small towns dotted the Trade Way
along its length, each about a day's ride apart, set up specifically to give travelers places to rest on
their long journeys. Pariah watched the passing terrain with interest. Other than an occasional visit
to Insight Park, she couldn't remember ever being in an area that wasn't crowded with buildings
and people. This wide expanse of pure nature was a new experience, one she found both pleasing
and unsettling. She already missed the familiarity of her home.

She looked ahead to see a cart approaching. The cart was buried under a loose pile of hay that hung
out over its sides, nearly touching the ground. Two broken down draft horses slowly pulled the
wagon along, and a gray-haired human farmer with sun-ravaged skin sat in the driver's seat, the
upper half of his body poking up out of the hay around him. She idly wondered if he planned to
drive the wagon all night to reach Baldur's Gate. That seemed odd to her, but she wasn't a farmer so
didn't know how that worked. The farmer gave them a cheery wave as the wagons got close.
"Evenin'," he nodded at them. They greeted him back.

Pariah turned away as the other wagon passed, again looking at the trees as they passed. She was
lost in reverie so it took her a moment to react to the sound behind her, the sound of someone
saying in Infernal, "Attack now."

She opened her mouth to shout a warning, but Falaster was already yelling, "It's an ambush!" He
pulled back on the brake and then leapt to the ground, drawing his shortsword.

Pariah jumped off the other side and drew her rapier as she turned to see what was happening.
Three armored men, a dwarf and two humans, burst out from under the pile of hay and charged
towards the nearest target, Rowan. Meanwhile the driver transformed into some kind of fiend with
charcoal-black skin, cloven hooves and leathery wings. Unlike the hideous devils she'd seen so far,
he had an unearthly beauty. He spread his wings and took to the air, brandishing a twisted, black
spear wreathed in flame. Bolts of fire shot from his fingertips, slamming into Farima who was still
reacting to the ambush.

Pariah called the cold energy to her blade as she charged towards the battle that seemed so far
away. As she watched, the swords of the three men brutally slashed and stabbed at Rowan, and the
woman slumped off the other side of her horse and fell to the ground. Pariah roared in anger and
called on the cold mists. She disappeared into a cloud of icy fog, reappearing behind the attackers
to launch a brutal stab with her rapier. Disoriented by the sudden teleportation, her thrust hit only
empty air and the attackers turned towards her.

Farima, recoiling from her own injuries from the fire bolts, slipped from her horse and bent down
to grab Rowan's collar. With a grunt she dragged Rowan away from the hooves of her horse, which
was rearing up in panic and blocking the two women from the attackers. As Farima struggled,
Pariah saw her mouth moving and a glow come to her hands. She rested one on Rowan's shoulder
and the priest's eyes fluttered open.

Lythienne and Ryland, still on horseback, shot past Falaster at full gallop. Lythienne's voice rang
out clear over the thunder of hooves. "Bolstered by her bravery in saving her friend," she narrated,
"Farima felt the pain fading from her injuries and she rejoined the fight." The power of her voice
made the story real, and Pariah saw the burns on Farima's skin start to heal.

Pariah, facing three armored opponents, fell into a defensive stance. She took a bad hit to her side
that left a deep bruise under the armor, but continued to fight as best she could. On the edge of her
vision, she saw Falaster slip up behind one of the attackers unnoticed. The dwarf cried out as
Falaster's blade sunk deeply into his back, but he remained standing.

Farima helped Rowan to her feet. Rowan grasped the holy symbol that hung from her neck,
muttered a prayer, and a cloud of razor-edged Tymoran coins shimmered into existence around the
attackers. The coins flew about like a swarm of wasps, slashing and distracting the men.

Pariah could hear the flap of the devil's wings above and slightly behind her and hoped she wasn't
about to be attacked by a fourth opponent. Instead, bolts of flame rained down on Falaster, who
stumbled back under the assault. Ryland and Lythienne leapt from their horses to joined the battle
as well, his blades and her fists wreaking havoc on the ambushers from behind.

Despite the other attackers, the men continued to focus on Pariah. She parried and dodged as best
she could, but the small wounds that landed were starting to take their toll. She was starting to
panic. Farima and Rowan, both of their healers, were badly wounded. She and Falaster were as
well, and only one of the attackers had taken any serious injury. She wasn't sure how long she
could keep holding off their blows.

An ear-splitting shriek caused the three attackers to all wince in pain. The distraction from that and
the harassment from the swarm of razor-sharp coins that continued to slash at them was enough
that Falaster was able to land a mortal blow on the dwarf.

"Hold them!" she heard the devil say in Infernal. The flap of wings passed over and Pariah saw
him land in their cart. One hand pawed through their belongings while the other hand reached out
to send streams of fire towards Rowan, who cried out in pain as the flames burned her.

"He's after the shield or the box!" Pariah yelled as she continued to parry blows. Farima sent a
steady stream of magical bolts from her staff at him but he continued to throw aside supplies
searching for his quarry.

Ryland landed a deep wound in one of the attackers, and Pariah saw the panic in the enemy's eyes
as he disengaged and fled. The devil, meanwhile, had found his target. The reddish dusk light
glinted off the golden shield as he raised it and the blanket it had been wrapped in slipped off. He
turned to see his minion running and shouted, "I said hold them, coward!" as he launched a bolt of
flame. The fire engulfed the man, who screamed as he collapsed into a burning heap.
The devil spread his wings as he prepared to take to the air. "He's getting away," said Pariah, but
the last opponent had turned and was slashing viciously at all of them, making it hard for them to
pursue the devil. Both Farima and Rowan fired magical bolts at the fiend, and he winced as they
struck home, but with a beat of his wings he took off.

Lythienne turned and charged at their wagon, taking a wide gash in her back from the swordsman
as she dropped her guard. The injury didn't slow her as she sprinted, sprung onto the wagon, and
from there leapt to an impossible height. She just managed to grab the devil's ankles as he tried to
gain altitude. She swung her body, throwing off his balance, and flipped up to kick him in the
chest. He lost control, and both of them plummeted to the ground.

Meanwhile, Pariah and Ryland had managed to down the last attacker. Pariah charged forward and
stabbed at the devil as he lay there. He tried to block her thrust with the shield, but she slipped past
it and plunged the point of the rapier into his shoulder. He quickly regained his feet. Glaring at
Lythienne, he snarled in the devil's tongue, "You will suffer in the Hells for interfering with me,
bitch." He stabbed with the spear and Lythienne moved to dodge, but he reacted instantly. His
thrust changed course and the flaming spear pierced her torso, coming out her back covered in
blood. He jerked the spear out of the wound with vicious strength. With a shocked look on her
face, Lythienne fell limply to the ground.

He raised the golden shield to block the magical bolts that rained down from Rowan and Lythienne
as Ryland moved up to attack him as well. Pariah, filled with rage, launched a vicious flurry of
attacks from her rapier. He was fast, but even he couldn't defend from so many attackers. Her blade
pierced his chest and he fell to his knees. As he died and dark energy flowed up her blade and into
her body, he glared at her defiantly. "There will be others," he growled in Infernal, and then fell
face down in the road.

Rowan was already at Lythienne's side praying for healing. Pariah quickly scanned the area to look
for any other attackers but it seemed quiet now. She heard Lythienne mutter something in Elvish
and turned to see the others helping her into a seated position. "What was that about?" she groaned
as she sat up.

Farima had retrieved the shield. She was staring at it and after a moment she said, "The Hidden
Lord says there is a secret society called the Knights of the Shield. They wish to keep the shield so
that its powers cannot be used for good. These men must have been members of this society."

Falaster said, "He did say there would be others."

Pariah looked at him in surprise. "You speak Infernal?" she asked

He raised his eyebrows. "Yes, of course. It has been helpful in my studies of the devils. I also speak
passable Abyssal, a little Celestial, and can flirt in Undercommon." She gave him a confused look.
Sheepishly he said, "I have a weakness for svirfneblin women."

Pariah was a little shocked. She'd seen a few deep gnomes in Sow's Foot. Their women were...not
conventionally attractive. Still, that was no reason to judge.

"Does anyone else need healing?" asked Rowan. She gently touched a nasty burn at her neck.
"Other than me," she said.

Pariah looked at the others. Everyone except Ryland were wounded, but nobody seemed to be on
death's door. "Let's gather the horses," she suggested. Their mules were ambling down the road,
pulling the cart slowly despite the brake being on, but they didn't seem spooked. The riding horses
had scattered, but they were close by. The hay cart was still and the draft horses -- assuming they
weren't yet another diabolical disguise ‑‑ seemed content to munch on the grass by the side of the
road.

They searched the wagon but it didn't contain anything but hay. The wagon itself was old and
sagging. Pariah examined the bodies but didn't find much other than armor and weapons, which
she took and stored in their wagon for future sale. "What kind of devil is this?" she asked Falaster
as she stood over the fiend. She figured she might as well start learning the different types. "And
why didn't he disappear like the others?"

"It's a cambion, not a true devil. It's the offspring of a devil and a humanoid."

"Like a tiefling?"

"No, that's a common misunderstanding. Tieflings are born of humans corrupted by the devils but
they come from human stock. Cambions are born of humans or other humanoids who have sex
with devils. The differences between the species-" He broke off and smiled humbly. "Well, none of
you probably care about the technical details. But they are different."

Farima sniffed in disapproval. "Are you saying there are those that would have intercourse with a
fiend?"

Pariah eyed the cambion. "I don't know," she said. "This one's pretty cute. No tentacles or scales or
anything. A couple of drinks and maybe..." She looked up to see Farima giving her a judgmental
look. Pariah laughed. "I'm kidding." Mostly, she said to herself. She'd slept with worse.

That thought suddenly brought up unexpected memories of what happened to her in Tymora's
temple. "Anyway," she said sharply, trying to drive the repulsive images from her mind. "Shall we
take the other horses? Sell them?"

Rowan was leading two of the riding horses back to the group and heard Pariah's question. She
looked the draft horses over. "We might as well. I'm not sure they'd survive in the wilderness if we
just release them."

They tied the draft horses to the back of their wagon and got back on the road. Lythienne, because
she was the most badly injured, took Pariah's seat in the wagon. Pariah had never ridden a horse
before, but Rowan gave her a few tips and Pariah was pretty sure she wasn't going to fall off.

They wrapped the shield in a blanket again and stashed in the wagon under the supplies. They had
decided before setting out that the shield and the puzzle box would be best hidden among the other
items, though since both had been stolen with their first day, that idea was starting to seem like a
poor one.

The sun was down by the time they got back on the road. The landscape was still illuminated, but
the dusky light was fading. Farima took the lead, her staff lit up to illuminate the road ahead as
darkness fell. They all kept a more watchful eye out in case others attacked, but they reached the
hamlet of Coniston safely not too long after full dark. There wasn't much in the town other than an
inn and a general store. The inn had an attached stable, and displayed a sign showing a sleeping
man with the legs of a goat. The store was dark and the sign above the door had writing that Pariah
couldn't read. There weren't many houses; Pariah estimated no more than a few dozen people lived
here. From the piles of lumber she gathered the town logged the nearby Cloak Wood.

The stable was lit up inside. A scrawny man with brown hair pulled into tight braids came out to
watch them enter town. His face was badly sun-burned down past the collar of his shirt. His eyes
swept over the group, stopping at Pariah. She could feel his suspicion as he watched her. She was
the best talker in the group, but she suddenly realized this small town might be less accepting of the
uncommon races than Baldur's Gate was.

Falaster waved to the man as they pulled up to the stable. "Good evening," he called out.

The man's eyes shifted back to him, and his attitude became more friendly. "Evenin'," the man said
back with a smile.

"Do you have room for our horses for the night?"

The stableman looked them over. "Yup. We got only one group of travelers with us tonight, so we
got plenty of space. Hay and grain, water, blanketing. No shoeing; we got no blacksmith." He
counted the horses. "Eight horses, plus the wagon, four gold per night."

"Would you be interested in buying these two?" he pointed to the draft horses. "I imagine plenty of
travelers need new horses now and then."

The man came over and examined the horses. "Not that often," he said. "Especially draft horses
like these." He frowned. "Kind of wore out, ain't they?"

"No, I'm sure they have plenty of life left in them," Falaster said smoothly. "I feel twenty gold each
would be quite reasonable."

The man snorted. "Can probably use them for the timber carts. You leaving in the morning?"

"Yes."

He continued to examine the horses, his mental wheels turning. "I'll give you free board for your
animals for one night, and ten gold on top of that. Best offer."

Falaster looked a bit dejected, but said, "Very well. That seems fair."

Pariah stayed silent. She could tell the man would have been willing to bargain a bit more, but
from his critical look at her, she suspected her intervention would just make things worse.

Meanwhile, the rest of them had dismounted and started gathering up their possessions. Pariah
retrieved her bag from the cart, the one with the puzzle box and her other belongings, and the
group headed towards the inn itself.

The inside was a pretty typical inn: scattered tables and chairs, a big fire in the middle with a pot of
stew simmering over it that filled the room with a savory odor. At one table sat four people: a
slender half-orc with sun-bleached hair who was puffing on a pipe; a slouching human who was
bald except for a tuft of black hair above each ear; a pudgy elf with silver hair and a thin beard; and
the only woman at the table, a human wearing darkened spectacles and heavy winter clothing.

The woman looked up at the travelers and put on a professional smile. "Welcome to the Satyr's
Rest, I'm Juliana," she said with little enthusiasm as she stood. "Will you be staying the night?"

"Yes," said Rowan. "There are six of us."

"One gold per person per night if you double up in the rooms, payable in advance," she said.
"Includes dinner and breakfast of whatever's in the pot. If you want something from the kitchen,
it'll be three silvers a meal."

Pariah reaching into her pouch and produced six gold coins. Juliana took them and said, "Go ahead
and serve yourselves. I'll be out in a jiff." She headed to a door that she unlocked with an iron key
hanging from her belt, slipped through and closed the door behind her. Some of the group started
ladling out the thick stew into wooden bowls that were stacked next to it, while others pushed two
tables together to make room for all of them.

The innkeeper came out a short time later and put three keys on the table. "They are the first three
rooms on the right at the top of the stairs," she pointed. "Drinks? Anything from the kitchen?"

They gave a mixed order of ales, wines and waters but everyone was happy eating from the pot.
The stew was a hearty and flavorful mix of ingredients, mostly boar meat and potatoes, in an ale
broth. They were all hungry so there wasn't much conversation at first as they ate enthusiastically.
Finally they started to slow down.

"Where you headed?" asked a gravely voice.

Pariah turned to see it was the half-orc. He and his companions seemed friendly enough and she
didn't detect any malice from them. Of course she hadn't detected anything from the farmer driving
the hay cart either. She wasn't sure whether to tell them the truth or not, but that decision was taken
away when Lythienne said, "Candlekeep."

"Really?" the half-orc said. "Heard of the place, but never saw much reason to go to a big library."

Falaster smiled. "I'm visiting a friend there, and they are just kind of tagging along. We'll probably
travel on before long. And what about you?"

"Baldur's Gate," he said. "I'm Gnarsh, by the way. This is Aldous," he pointed the stem of his pipe
at the human, "and Naal," he indicated the elf. "We're hoping to get taken on a ship's crew."

Falaster introduced his companions, and the two groups ended up passing polite conversation for
the rest of the evening. Juliana joined them after serving the drinks. Pariah finally started to relax;
maybe they weren't going to be ambushed by every stranger they met.

Later in the evening, Lythienne told the exciting tale of the Companions of the Hall, a group of
adventurers who defeated the shadow dragon, Shimmergloom. She used illusion to bring her story
to life before them. When she was done, she challenged each of the others to tell their own stories.
She said they could be personal or historical or a fairy tale or anything else. Gnarsh recounted a
touching tale of his first love as a teenager. Aldous told an utterly filthy and hilarious account of a
virility spell gone wrong; he refused to admit whether the story was fact or fiction. Naal recited a
poem about the Darkstalker War in Calimshan that left Farima and Falaster visibly moved. Juliana
told a funny story about the time a goliath, a firbolg and a tabaxi walked into the bar, all three
arguing with a talking sword; the punch line was a complicated pun that Pariah didn't understand,
but she laughed with the others anyhow.

Farima gave a somewhat dull lecture on the Great Wheel cosmology of the planes. Falaster
described an expedition in the jungles of Chult he had been part of. Rowan told a story of a
traveling priest of Tymora who gained the ear of an evil king and tricked him into opening the
gates during a siege, leading to the fall of the city. Pariah reminisced about the time she and several
of the Forgotten played a series of harmless pranks on the Flaming Fist, tying them up for days as
the mercenaries hunted the culprits throughout the Outer City, never finding any of them.

Ryland had been quiet throughout the evening, idly scratching the surface of the table with the
edge of his spoon. He never reacted to any of the stories and Pariah didn't even think he was
listening. When it was his turn to speak, he turned somber eyes to the rest of them and said softy, "I
would like to tell you the tale of the Hellriders of Elturel."
He took a deep breath and began reciting a story he had obviously memorized. "Several centuries
ago, battles raged constantly west of Elturel in an area that is now known as the Fields of the Dead.
During this time, possibly drawn by the slaughter, hordes of demons and devils appeared. They
destroyed fields, slaughtered livestock, burned homes, and killed or kidnapped people. In the midst
of this terror, the angel Zariel led a band of her kind down from Mount Celestia to face the fiends.
The battle took place in the village of Idyllglen, and the fiends were driven off. After the angels
left, the village built a shrine to her and believed she watched over them.

"Then about 150 years ago, a band of ogres attacked Idyllglen. The people of the village prayed to
Zariel and she came to their aid, helping them to drive off the ogres. A woman named Yael had
been in command of the local militia and had fought by Zariel's side. After the angel left, Yael
trained her militia into military force called the Zarielites. They patrolled the local area and kept
the village safe in Zariel's name."

Ryland stared off into the distance, as though seeing the story in his mind. "Then, about a dozen
years later, Zariel returned. But this time it wasn't to give aid; it was to request it. She was going to
lead an army into the Abyss to force the demons to fight on a second front in the Blood War. Once
the beachhead was established, forces from Mount Celestia would join them and destroy the
demons at their source.

"Word spread throughout the land. Olanthius, Lord of Elturel, promised his forces to her cause and
she moved the headquarters of her crusade to our city. Haruman, Lord Knight of the Far Hills,
brought his force of knights from the Sunset Mountains. Along with Yael's Zarielites, these were
the Three Armies of Zariel. Thousands more arrived, flocking to her banner, swearing they would
fight at her side to destroy the evils in the Abyss.

"And then the demons attacked. Whether it was in response to her campaign, or if it was just a
coincidence, they again began marauding across the Fields of the Dead along with a large force of
gnolls. Zariel rallied her army and they marched out to meet them. Once again, the two forces met
in the village of Idyllglen. It was a brutal battle, but the courage of the soldiers and the strength of
her leadership won the day. The demon leader opened a portal and fled. Zariel, riding a golden
mastodon, led the Three Armies into the portal to take the fight to the Abyss."

His voice wavered as he continued. "But it was a trap. The portal didn't lead to the Abyss, but
rather to the Nine Hells where a force of both demons and devils were waiting for them. The Three
Armies fought for nine days to break through the infernal lines, but the enemy forces would not
crumble. Finally, the fiends broke through and killed Zariel. After she fell, the tide of the battle
turned. The remnants of her army were forced to retreat through the portal and seal it so neither
devil nor demon could follow them through.

"The soldiers were overcome with grief at the loss of their great commander, but secure in the
knowledge that the minions of the Lower Planes would think twice about threatening Elturgard
again. There were great celebrations to honor the valiant warriors, both living and dead, and the
Three Armies would forever be known as the Hellriders from that day on."

He came out of his reverie and fixed them with a defiant eye. "The angel Zariel forfeited her life to
save Elturel and the surrounding lands from the evils of the Nine Hells. If one of those vile fiends
has taken her name in vain, then there is no punishment great enough for such an insult. In the
memory of her great sacrifice, I swear I will do everything in my power to glorify the real Zariel's
name!"
Chapter End Notes

Note that Ryland's version of the Tale of the Hellriders differs from the module. That's
because much later in this story, I started to adopt some of the revised lore in the
amazing Descent Into Avernus: The Alexandrian Remix.

I've posted my house rules that are used in this story. They probably aren't balanced
for a real game, but give a little insight into how things work in my world. They will
almost certainly change over the course of the story.

And now, a little rant that is not about this chapter specifically.

You know what frustrates me? The inconsistency in D&D canon. I realize D&D has
been around for decades (I'm old -- I played original and AD&D back in the 70s), and
I know game systems and so on have changed, but the contradictions can be
frustrating as an author. In a future chapter, it took me forever to write a couple of
paragraphs describing their entrance to Candlekeep because the canon sources disagree
on what it looks like. More recently, I was reading Tomb of Annihilation. This was
published two years before Descent Into Avernus and it establishes that Portyr's rank is
Blaze, and yet in this module they call her Commander. Zodge would be Flame, not
Captain. I know it's picky, but they literally list ToA as an inspiration in the Avernus
credits. When an organization is specifically mentioned in an adventure published two
years ago, maybe read the three paragraphs about it to make sure your stuff is
consistent. I'm a tech writer in real life, and it's literally my job to hunt down
inconsistencies like that so it makes me a little nuts to come across them in published
material.

Not only that, but reading about Portyr in Tombs, she clearly has a very different
personality than the way I wrote her. Obviously I'm welcome to make whatever
tweaks I like, but something as simple as mentioning her Lawful Evil alignment would
have given me more to work with.

Okay, rant over.

 A Slight Setback
Chapter Summary

Having survived the cambion's attempt to steal the shield they carry, the group
continues on, hoping there won't be any more excitement before reaching the keep.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Breakfast was the same stew that had been available for dinner, which wasn't a surprise. A lot of
the smaller inns kept a perpetual stew simmering in the kitchen or the common room, adding more
ingredients as needed to fill the pot. A couple of the group opted for selections from the kitchen,
but Pariah took a bowl of the stew along with a cup of strong coffee. The other group of travelers
was already gone, having set out before sunrise. Pariah was disappointed; she had liked them and
had hoped to see them again before leaving.

Pariah was enjoying a full belly and a second cup of coffee when the stable master came in, a sober
look on his face. "I got news about your wagon," he said. "The reach wood is split and the front
axle's about to slip off."

Apparently nobody at the table knew much about wagons because he got some blank looks.
Lythienne said, "And that's...bad?"

"That's bad," he confirmed. "I can jury rig a repair that'll hold for a couple, three days, but you
need a real wainwright to fix it. Your best bet is to head back to Baldur's Gate. You'll find plenty of
them there. Or, if you keep going south, there is one in Appleshire, two days travel." He paused.
"My repair should hold that long but it's a bit of a gamble."

The group gave a collective sigh. Ryland said, "I think we should go back to Baldur's Gate. We
don't know if his repair will hold. We don't know what's waiting for us on the road. Better to go
back and get a stronger wagon."

Pariah frowned. "We've already waited so long," she said. "I'd rather push towards Candlekeep."
Ryland shot her a sour look.

"I don't suppose you have another wagon," said Rowan. "Even a small one?"

He shook his head. "None I'm willing to give up. Nobody else neither. We need them for the
timber loads."

"We could leave the wagon behind," suggested Farima. "Two could ride the mules instead."

"The wagon is kind of loaded down," said Falaster. "We'd have to leave supplies behind if we did
that, though I feel we would be better off continuing to Candlekeep."

"I think I agree with Ryland," said Lythienne. "Head back to Baldur's Gate. Start again with better
transport."

Rowan said, "Yeah, we should head back, especially after the fight we had yesterday."
With a dour expression, Farima said, "I think our priority should be saving Elturel as quickly as
possible. I say we push forward."

"Three to three," sighed Lythienne. "It's a tie."

"Shall we leave it up to Tymora?" Rowan suggested as she removed the holy symbol from around
her neck. It was a simple leather cord with a coin of Tymora hanging from it. "Heads we go to
Candlekeep; tails we go to Baldur's Gate. Agreed?"

There were no objections so Rowan removed the coin from the cord and held the symbol tightly in
her fingers. "Tymora, please grant us your wisdom. Should we continue to Candlekeep?" She
flipped the coin in the air. It tumbled over and over, landing with a clatter on the table. The group
all leaned forward to see Tymora's face smiling up at them. "Candlekeep it is," said Rowan.

Everyone seemed satisfied with the decision except for Ryland. He scowled at the rest of the group
but said nothing. Falaster asked the stable master, "How long will the repair take?"

"You should be on the road by midday. It'll be dark by the time you make it to Harthshaw, but it
shouldn't be too late."

The stable master headed off to start his work. Lythienne said, "Well, it looks like we have a
morning off." She looked over at Juliana. "Are there any sights we should see?"

The innkeeper grinned. "Well, Purban Underbough has a birthmark on his calf that looks like a
barking dog. That's pretty much the most exciting thing we got around here." The group chuckled.
She continued, "You could check out the store. Oskar's always got some curious odds and ends he's
picked up from travelers. Plus a lot of local woodcraft. And you're welcome to sit here and drink,
of course."

Lythienne turned to the others. "Any other ideas?"

Rowan had a thoughtful look. "I think we should stay close to town. We might get attacked again
and I don't want us to be separated."

"Agreed," nodded Pariah. She looked over at Lythienne and said, "Sit and drink?"

Lythienne smiled and said, "Normally, yes, but I think I'll use this opportunity to do some
exercises. I might join you later, though, depending on when the wagon is ready."

Ryland turned to Farima and said quietly, "Um, Farima, would you take a walk with me?"

Farima seemed surprised by the invitation. "Why?" she asked.

He seemed embarrassed. "I just want to talk to you."

Farima still seemed confused. "Very well," she said. She stood and reached for the blanket-
wrapped shield by her chair. She never let it leave her side, just as Pariah always carried the bag
with the puzzle box in it.

Ryland looked at the shield. "Uh, could you leave that here? Please?"

Farima was even more puzzled. She looked at the rest of the group, and Rowan said, "We'll watch
it. It'll be fine." Farima nodded and put the shield on her chair. Then she and Ryland exited the inn.

"Aww," said Lythienne after they had left. "I think that boy has a crush on our Calishite cutie."
"Really?" said Pariah, looking out the open door in surprise. She hadn't felt that from him, but he
was a jumble of emotions this morning. She wasn't sure how he was feeling. "Well, good for
them," she said.

"I think I will head back to my room and read," said Falaster. "I can take that with me," he said,
nodding at the shield. The others had no objection, so he took the blanket-wrapped bundle and
headed upstairs.

"Want to check out the store?" Rowan asked Pariah.

"Sure," she shrugged. She downed the rest of her coffee, picked up her bag, and she and Rowan
headed out the door. She looked down the street and saw Farima and Ryland slowly ambling
along. Now that she was looking for it, she sensed anxiety and embarrassment from him. It looked
like Lythienne had been correct.

It was a warm morning and the door to the general store was wide open. They crossed the road and
entered to the strong smell of wood. Half the store was, as Juliana had said, dedicated to woodcraft.
Pariah had been expecting carvings and knickknacks, and there were plenty of those, but there were
also kitchen utensils, a couple of chairs, washboards, and other useful items.

The other side of the store was a jumble of miscellaneous items. She saw a coil of rope, some tools
in varying states of wear, blankets, sticks of charcoal, and more. There were also a few poor quality
weapons and a pair of leather gloves. At the back of the store, sitting in a rocking chair, a human
man watched them over the rims of the half-moon spectacles he wore. "Morning," he said.

"Morning," Pariah replied. "You buy weapons and armor?" she asked, remembering what they had
looted off their attackers.

"Yup," he nodded. "But I don't have much cash. I mostly deal in trade."

That didn't surprise her, but it was still disappointing. She and Rowan looked over his inventory but
they had stocked up before leaving the city. They didn't really need anything. Eventually they left
empty handed, saying their goodbyes and heading back out into the street.

Lythienne was standing in an open area next to the inn. When she had said she was going to
exercise, Pariah had assumed some kind of vigorous activity. Instead, she was standing in a combat
stance. Slowly, she shifted to a new position, and then another and so on. She moved like she was
fighting, but very slowly. Pariah was mesmerized. It was like something halfway between a combat
style and a dance -- graceful and beautiful, yet with a sharp intensity behind it.

Pariah and Rowan lost track of time as they watched her. Finally, she brought her movements back
to a neutral position, hands folded in front of her. She released a long breath and then turned to see
them. She winked at them when she realized they were watching.

"That was amazing," breathed Pariah. "I'm sorry, maybe we shouldn't have stared."

Lythienne smiled. "No, it's fine. Honestly, I didn't even notice you there. If I had wanted privacy, I
would have done this in my room. I like the outdoors so I do my exercises outside when I can. And,
though it is not meant as a performance, I am flattered when someone sees it as one."

Rowan said, "Your wound doesn't seem to be bothering you."

Lythienne gave a one-sided smile. "It hurts like you wouldn't believe. But overcoming pain is part
of the discipline."
"Let's go inside," said Rowan with concern. "I'll tend to your injury."

Pariah looked up at the sky and realized at least an hour had passed. "Where did you learn that?"
she asked.

"A number of years ago," Lythienne began as she started to walk towards the inn, "I was
performing in a tavern in some small town near Daggerford. Later in the evening, a man
approached me to compliment my on my dancing. He said he wanted to discuss my anatomical
dynamics."

The other two women laughed. "Oh, that old line," said Rowan as they entered the inn.

"I don't even know what those words mean," said Pariah, "but I know what he was saying."

Lythienne laughed with the other women as they resumed their seats at the breakfast table. She
said, "Yes, that's what I assumed at first as well. He was attractive enough but I wasn't in the mood
for company so I politely rebuffed him. He was quite embarrassed when he realized what I thought
he was asking. He apologized and said he really did want to discuss movement."

Rowan was listening, but she also put her hand on Lythienne's abdomen and mumbled a prayer.
Lythienne smiled. "Thank you. That feels much better. So anyway, I agreed to sit with him and he
told me he was a member of the Order of the White Circle, a small monastic order devoted to the
perfection of movement. They spend their whole lives studying and refining the movements of
their bodies. Some study athletics, some study combat disciplines, some study dance and so on.
They regard the human body and its movements as an expression of the divine."

"Okay, there's still a joke there," said Pariah, "but I'll shut up."

Lythienne grinned. "Believe me, I understand. The man -- his name was Belimaar, by the way --
said many unintentionally amusing things during our conversation. However, once I realized he
really wasn't trying to bed me, I started listening more closely and I was intrigued by his
philosophy. He asked if I'd be willing to visit their monastery and give them a demonstration. I
agreed."

She looked thoughtful. "It was three or four days before I found time to travel out there. It was
what you'd expect from a monastery: a group of men and women living very simple lives so they
were not distracted from the focus of their studies. I danced for them and they were fascinated, but
the attention they gave me was very different than what I'd received from past audiences. It was
almost scholarly. It was quite a different experience, and yet I felt they appreciated my
performance more than any audience before."

She smiled as she remembered. "They provided demonstrations for me as well, and they were
some of the most amazing things I had ever seen. It wasn't just the beauty of their movements, it
was their..." She struggled for the word. "Efficiency is maybe the best word. They didn't move a
fraction more than necessary. Every muscle moved precisely, exactly as much needed as to
complete a movement. I felt like I had found people who understood my art on a level nobody ever
had. It was refreshing. I ended up asking if I could join them and they agreed."

Lythienne frowned. "I will admit, monastic life was a bit more difficult than I had expected. I've
always been fairly free spirited, and to be tied to rigid discipline was not easy for me. Plus, well, I
do enjoy fine food, strong drink and other pleasures. Living on water and simple vegetarian meals,
sleeping on a hard bed and so on, was quite the challenge. However, I reasoned that I should try
things their way, and I should respect their beliefs even if they weren't my own."
"Considering how you fight, I gather you didn't study dance," said Rowan.

"You are correct," Lythienne said with a smile. "At first that was my intention, though I was
focused more on acrobatics than dance. However, I received training from many of the masters and
I was drawn to the martial arts." She furrowed her brow. "No, that's not correct. It's not that simple.

"There are monastic orders such as the Order of the Yellow Rose that teach specific movements,
martial arts in their case, and each student learns the same techniques. The Order of the White
Circle has a different philosophy. They encourage individualized areas of study. Our bodies are
different so our studies of movement should be different. My perfect movements wouldn't be the
same as yours. I have to find them on my own. Most of the students incorporate aspects of all
forms of movement, at least to some degree.

"I studied there for six years." She smirked and said, "Well, on and off for six years, let's say. I did
slip out now and then when the daily bread and water got too much to bear, but they always
welcomed me back. Although they encourage discipline, they also believe we each have our own
journey. Anyhow, my personal studies did focus quite heavily on martial movements but also
included athletics and dance and other exercises." Her grin widened. "And, from what my partners
have said, apparently my sensual skills have improved as well, so that's a bonus."

"Why did you leave?" Pariah asked.

Lythienne shook her head. "I haven't really left. I'm just on another one of my sabbaticals. I'll go
back in time, resume my studies until I become bored. And so on." She shrugged. "And in fifty or a
hundred years, I may leave for good and try something else for a few decades."

"I have to admit," Rowan teased, "I have trouble imagining you dressed in rags, humbly scrubbing
the floor on your hands and knees."

Lythienne chuckled. "The asceticism wasn't my favorite part of my time there." She looked more
serious. "However, I came to appreciate the value of simplicity. Removing distraction to focus on
what was important. At first I thought these people were mad to live like that, but after a while I
started to understand. It's certainly not my preferred lifestyle, but I can respect why someone would
choose to live that way." She looked at Rowan. "What about you? What was your life like in the
temple?"

"Well," said Rowan slowly, "the worship of Tymora isn't as rigid as many religions. In fact, the
temple in Baldur's Gate is a rarity. Tymoran belief tends to de-emphasize the need for
intermediaries like priests. 'Let the lucky man and the Smiling Lady suss it out,' as the saying goes.
Priests are more likely to wander than to stay in one place."

"How did you end up there?" asked Pariah.

"Luck," she laughed. "Quite literally." Her expression became more serious. "My parents were
traders. They had a successful business, and life for me and my brother, Kord, was good. But they
suffered a series of setbacks, and suddenly we were broke. They tried to shield us, but we kids
often hear more than the grownups think we do. I knew they were doing without so that we would
be okay, but eventually it was too much."

Rowan grew sad as she remembered. "The four of us sat down together at the dinner table. It was
obvious that Kord already knew what was coming. My parents explained that there just wasn't
enough money left. Kord was seventeen, and he had already found a job on a wheat farm in the
area and was planning to move out to live on the property. Start his life as an adult. However, I was
younger. They wanted to find a good life for me, wanted to be sure I'd be safe and cared for. They
decided they were going to apprentice me."

Rowan started to run her fingers over the rough wood of the table as she remembered. "My father
wanted me to be a sailor, and a captain had already agreed to take me on. My mother was afraid of
the dangers of sea life. She had talked to the Sword Coast Fur Traders. They were always looking
for novice hunters and trappers.

"They asked me what I wanted and I didn't know. I was scared and upset. Both choices meant I'd
be away from them for months at a time. I just wanted to stay with my family. I was mad at them at
the time for sending me away, but I understand now that they really did want what was best for
me. We've talked about it since and they told me it was the hardest thing they've ever had to do."

She shook herself out of her reverie. "Anyhow, Kord finally suggested they leave it in Tymora's
hands." She reached into her pouch and pulled out a copper piece. "So my father flipped this
copper nib. As it tumbled through the air, my heart pounded. I didn't want either side to come up. I
wanted to stay. And then the coin fell to the table," she placed the copper coin on the wooden
surface in front of her, "just like this."

The coin was balanced perfectly on its edge. "We stared at it. I started to laugh. I don't know why.
I just found it funny. My father said gruffly, 'Well now what are we supposed to do?' And I found
that even funnier." She snorted. "I think I was a little hysterical.

"And then Kord said that maybe that meant Tymora had other plans for me. So they took me to the
temple in Baldur's Gate and asked the priests there. They said that was a sign Tymora wanted me
to become an acolyte. So I did."

Rowan smiled at the rest of the group. "And I loved it. My early days in the temple were
wonderful. I found a real connection with the faith. I felt centered. At home. And I was still close to
my family so I could see them. It was the perfect solution." And then her face clouded. "At least
until we got a new head priest, and then things at the temple became less pleasant."

The mood of the group darkened. "But things are better now, right?" said Pariah. "Since?"

Rowan nodded gravely. "Yes. Things are returning to the way they were. Nobody talks about it,
but the new head priest is working to restore morale."

"Do you think he knew what was going on?"

"I think it was the worst kept secret in the city."

"And they did nothing about it?" Pariah asked testily.

Rowan struggled for an answer. "I think it was a complicated problem," she said diplomatically.

"The solution was easy enough."

"Perhaps, but-"

She was interrupted when the stable master entered the tavern. "Wagon's ready," he said. "Should
be good for a few days. Still needs a real repair, though. It's all hitched up if you are ready to head
out."

"I wonder where Ryland and Farima are," Rowan mused.

"Yes, I wonder," echoed Lythienne with a mischievous grin.

"Let's pack up," said Pariah. "We'll look for them when we are done."

By the time they had fetched Falaster from his room and loaded the wagon with their belongings,
Farima and Ryland came walking up the road. "Oh, sure," Pariah called out. "You show up once
the work is done."

Farima was lost in thought. She looked up and saw the loaded wagon. "Oh. Are we ready to go?"

Rowan said, "Yes. Let's mount up and get moving."

Ryland stated firmly, "I think we need to discuss again the possibility of returning to Baldur's
Gate."

"We already decided that," said Rowan tiredly. "You do what you feel is important. But the rest of
us are going to Candlekeep."

"No," said Farima, "I think the young man has a point."

Rowan frowned. "Why?"

Farima went to the cart. She found the shield, removed its wrapping and stood it up in the back of
the cart. Glaring at it, she said, "Hidden Lord, I must speak with you." After a moment she said,
"What is your name?"

Her face clouded. "I must insist you tell me your name...Are you one of the celestials?...That is not
what I asked. Are you a celestial?...Answer yes or no...What is your purpose here?...Why do you
want to go to Elturel?...Again, that is not what I asked...I insist you answer!" She grew increasingly
upset as she spoke.

She turned to Ryland. "I think you may be correct. He will not admit to anything."

"What's going on?" asked Pariah.

Ryland shot her a poisonous look for no reason she could see. Farima said reluctantly, "Ryland
wished to speak with me away from the shield. He has begun to believe that the entity within has
be misleading us. He is not a celestial as he claims. He will not answer simple questions, giving me
evasive answers instead." In a significant tone, she added, "He does not lie, but he does mislead."

"Talona's tits," Pariah swore.

Rowan stepped forward, the coin around her neck clenched in her fist. "Lady Tymora, reveal the
truth before me." She concentrated for a moment and then said, "Yes, there is a fiendish presence
in this thing." She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm so stupid. I should have checked an artifact
brought out of a devil's temple." She looked over at the others. "Falaster, can you give any
insight?"

He shrugged apologetically. "I would surmise it is a devil, based on Farima's comment about it not
lying, but I can't tell you anything more. I'm sorry but I'm a researcher, not a spellcaster. Sylvira
would be able to figure out the identity of whatever is inside when we get to Candlekeep."

Ryland snorted and mumbled, "Of course." Falaster raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.
Ryland said more loudly, "I think this means we have to go back to Baldur's Gate."

Confusion swept the group. "I don't follow," said Rowan. "What do the two have to do with each
other?"
"Look at who is advising us to go forward," he said fiercely. "Farima, who was being advised by a
devil. Falaster, who studies devils and may very well have been corrupted by them."

"I beg your pardon," Falaster said indignantly.

"And her," he pointed at Pariah, "who serves one of them."

Pariah looked at Farima in shock. "Farima!" she said accusingly.

The woman seemed as stunned as she was. "I said nothing," she swore.

"You knew?" Ryland said to Farima in surprise.

"Yes," she admitted reluctantly.

"And you travel with her?" he accused.

"It is more complicated than you think," she started.

Before she could continue, he interrupted. "And the rest of you? How many of you knew?" His
eyes widened at their reactions. "All of you? And you willingly follow this servant of evil?"

"I'm not-" Pariah began but he kept going.

"Don't you see what's happening? The devils are trying to lure us into the Nine Hells. It's obvious
they are trying to take our souls, and we must stand firm against them. If you have all been
corrupted, then I will stand against them alone if I have to." Ryland's hand dropped to the hilt of his
sword.

"Enough!" snapped Farima angrily. "Listen to me, young man! Do no have the unmitigated gall to
accuse me of following evil. I am a faithful devotee of the Triad of Tyr, Ilmater and Torm. All of
my companions are good people. And while Pariah has made some unfortunate decisions, she is
clearly doing her best to use her dark powers for good purposes, and trying not to let the voice of
evil corrupt her." Pariah was shocked into silence by her admission. Farima said, "While I
understand your concerns, you are not in command of this group and will not presume to give any
of us orders!"

When she saw Ryland wilting under her fury, Farima took a breath and continued in a calmer tone.
"We appreciate your warning of the true identity of the shield. And I share your apprehension
about our current course of action. However, the souls of thousands of citizens of Elturel are in
danger right now. They will not be saved by going backwards or by bickering over intent. Our best
bet is to continue to one of the most revered centers of learning on Toril to speak to experts on the
subject, and decide at that time what our best course of action will be. You have been a valuable
ally and we hope you will continue to be, but we are not going back to Baldur's Gate so either you
continue with us to Candlekeep or be on your way. Do you understand?"

Ryland was looking down, seething in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "Yes," he said
sulkily. "Fine, we'll go to Candlekeep."

"Very well." Farima calmed herself further and clumsily patted him on the shoulder. "You have a
good heart, Ryland. And I value your counsel. Please know that everyone here wants what's best
for Elturel." He snorted at that but didn't reply.

She turned to the rest of the group. "Shall we be on our way?"

 Pariah looked around to realize several of the townspeople, including Juliana, Oskar, and the stable
master who's name she had never learned, had gathered to watch the drama. You had to find
entertainment where you could in the small towns. Realizing the show was over, they returned to
their work.

Lythienne took the wagon seat again. Pariah had felt more comfortable on the horse even in the
short time it had taken to reach town last night, so she was fine with swapping. Besides, let the two
storytellers bore each other rather than her.

Before she mounted up, she stopped Farima. "Thanks," she said. "For what you said about me."

It took Farima a moment to realize what she was talking about and then, obviously uncomfortable,
she said, "It does not mean that I trust you." Reluctantly she added, "I see you are trying. I still fear
for your soul. The infernals corrupt. And these pacts always work in their favor. Mortals think they
can outsmart them, but they cannot. Be on your guard." With that, both women mounted their
horses.

Pariah and Rowan led the way, the cart came behind, and Farima and a pouting Ryland came last
as they continued south on the Trade Road.

Chapter End Notes

"The reach wood is split and the front axle's about to slip off." -- That's my medieval
wagon equivalent of "The HDMI port had a buffer overflow that hacked the floppy
drive to decrypt the mouse cable" gibberish you get in some TV shows. I spent WAY
too much time researching wagon parts, and strung some words together in a way that
I hope made actual sense.

I would swear I put a note in the last chapter that I was going to go back to a weekly
schedule starting today. Well, I am, so the next chapter will be posted next Friday
morning.
 A Rough Crowd
Chapter Summary

The group travels on towards Candlekeep in a hastily repaired wagon.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah was in agony as they finally reached Harthshaw. Her brutalized body could barely stay
upright and she wasn't sure how much more punishment she could take. She would never have
guessed that just sitting on a horse on a quiet, uneventful journey could be so excruciating.

They pulled up to the stable and she stiffly climbed off her horse. When her boots hit the ground,
her leg muscles cried out in protest, her knees buckled and she found herself on her back in the
road. "Are you okay?" came Rowan's worried voice. Pariah responded with a groan. Rowan came
over and knelt beside her. "What happened?" she asked.

Pariah looked at her and said gravely, "Horses are tortures created by the devils. I'm clearly being
punished for my sins."

Rowan chuckled and looked relieved. "It does take a little time to get used to riding, especially
when you can't rest much." They had ridden straight through from Coniston, not wanting to rest
because they had gotten such a late start. Rowan clutched her holy symbol and said, "Smiling
Lady, please relieve this tortured soul of her pain."

Pariah sighed in pleasure as some of the pain faded from her muscles. "Better," she said. "Thank
you, Tymora." She nodded at Rowan. "And Tymora's priest."

Rowan helped her to her feet, which was a little clumsy between Pariah's still weak muscles and
Rowan's single arm but they managed. The town didn't look that different from the last one. The
inn had a sign showing a grey toad, and the general store's sign displayed socks and boots. There
were only a few homes visible, but most of them had numerous chickens in their yards, so she had
a good idea of the town's major export.

Other than the misery of horseback riding, the trip had been pleasant enough. They had been on
their guard, suspiciously watching passing travelers until they were out of sight, but there had been
no attack. Lythienne had played her pan flute for a while, but the somber melodies it produced
brought the group down. Realizing that, she had crawled into the cart to retrieve her dulcimer and
was able to play and sing happier songs with that. That had helped pass the time.

While Falaster conducted business with the muscular, dark-skinned man at the stable, the rest of
them grabbed possessions off the cart and headed into the inn. The interior was not what Pariah
had expected. The floors were shiny hardwood that looked freshly waxed. The furniture was good
quality, and a high shelf that ran along the walls held a collection of small animal statues. Behind
the bar was an extensive collection of liquor, the largest Pariah had ever seen. Sitting at one of the
tables were four rough-looking figures, all human, three men and a woman. They were all armed
and lightly armored, which wasn't necessarily a danger sign -- most travelers knew the road could
be dangerous -- but they had a predatory look that Pariah didn't like.
A bright-eyed gnome woman with long white hair greeted them from the bar. "Welcome to the
Grey Toad," she said jovially. "I'm Zinxi. Will you be staying the night?"

"Yes," Pariah said. "Six of us."

"I want my own room," Ryland said. He was still pouting.

"The rest of us will double up," Pariah added.

"All right," she said, looking up at the ceiling as she calculated. "Four rooms, six people, that will
be...six and five for the night, dinner and breakfast included." Lythienne handed over six gold and
five silver coins.

They stowed their luggage in the rooms, other than the usual exceptions: Pariah carried her bag and
Farima carried the wrapped shield. Even though they knew the shield was not what it claimed, it
was certainly a valuable item and they didn't want it calling to anyone else. With that done, they
settled around a table for a bowl of stew -- this was chicken and yam rather than the boar and
potato they had eaten the night before -- and a few drinks. Ryland sat with them, but was quiet as
they talked. Pariah thought about trying to mend fences, but she was tired, achy and cranky and
didn't have the patience at the moment to deal with his sulkiness.

"Fancy a game of bones?" one of the rough men asked after they had finished their meals.

Pariah had noticed them playing dice as she and her companions ate. She was actually itching for
some entertainment, but she was a bit suspicious of the group. Well, no matter. If they cheated, as
she was sure they would, she could always bow out.

"Sure," she said, rising.

"I think I will join you," said Lythienne. Pariah was surprised, but then realized she shouldn't have
been. Anyone who spent as much time in taverns as Lythienne apparently did would have learned
the games.

"Baldur's?" Pariah asked as the two of them joined the strangers. There were a number of different
ways to play, but Baldur's rules were the ones she was most familiar with.

"Sure," one of them shrugged.

To her surprise they didn't cheat, but they also weren't very good. Pariah won more than she lost.
Lythienne, on the other hand, was either very skilled or very lucky. Or possibly she was cheating,
though Pariah couldn't see how. Regardless, as the stack of coins built up in front of her, the mood
started to sour.

"The dice are sure going your way a lot tonight," said one of the men.

"I'm just having a run of luck," Lythienne said cheerfully. Pariah couldn't tell if she wasn't reading
the room, or if she simply didn't care. Either way, the tension at the table was rising palpably.

"Luck," the rough woman snorted. "If that's what you call it."

Pariah didn't see this ending well so said, "Maybe we should call it a night," and started to stand.

She felt a heavy hand clamp down on her right wrist. "Maybe you should sit down and let us win
our money back," said one of the men, threat in his tone.
Pariah met his glare. "Maybe you should take your hand off me," she growled.

"Maybe your friend is winning a little to often," said one of the other men.

Pariah turned her gaze on him. "Maybe you should learn not to hit on nineteen." He had been
aggressive all night, busting on roll after roll.

"I think she's right," Lythienne said. Quickly she added, "About quitting for the night." She started
to stand, and the man next to her put his hand on her shoulder. Or at least he tried. Lythienne
moved in a flash, and suddenly his face was slammed into the table with his arm twisted painfully
behind him.

The others leapt to their feet, weapons drawn. The one holding Pariah's wrist tightened his grip as
his other hand drew a dagger. She heard her companions coming to their feet behind her. It would
be hard to draw her rapier with her off hand, so instead she drew the cold to her left hand and
prepared to send it towards the one next to her.

"Oy!" Zinxi called out. "Take it outside. I won't have a ruckus in my place. I'll kick you all out and
you can sleep with the horses."

"How about this?" Lythienne said, her tone friendly even as she held the man down effortlessly
with the pressure of her slim fingers on his wrist. "I'll buy the drinks for the rest of the night. No
reason to make trouble for our gracious host over a game of dice."

Pariah watched the eyes of the ruffians as they scanned the others. They were outnumbered, but
their prudence battled with their pride. The innkeeper said emphatically, "That sounds like a good
idea. Let's all just sit down."

"Fine," grumbled the man not currently engaged with the group. He sheathed his shortsword.
Lythienne carefully let up the man she was holding, watching him to be sure he didn't try to strike
back at her. The third man released Pariah's wrist and put his dagger away, and the woman put up
her small hammer.

"Good," said the innkeeper with relief. "What'll you all have?"

"A round of the most expensive shit you've got," the man with the shortsword said smugly.

Lythienne chuckled in delight. "Excellent choice. I will have the same. And keep it coming." She
turned and rejoined her companions.

Pariah also headed back to the table, though she didn't turn her back on the group as she resumed
her seat. "Same," she said. She'd probably stick with ale for the rest of the evening, but she was
curious what "the most expensive shit" tasted like.

She looked around as the others in her group also resumed their seats. "Where's Ryland?" she
asked.

"He went to his room," said Farima. "He is...struggling with this situation."

"You two spend a lot of the trip today whispering to each other," observed Lythienne. "Were you
cooing romantic ballads?"

Farima gave her a mystified stare. "What?"

Rowan smirked. "When Ryland wanted to speak to you alone, we assumed he was making
romantic overtures. I'm guessing that was not the case."

Farima looked only slightly less confused. "Well, no. He wanted to talk about the shield and about
our plans for Candlekeep." She looked towards the hall towards his room. "Besides, he is just a
boy. That is absurd."

Lythienne looked like she was going to make a comment but Rowan quickly said, "So what were
you two talking about today?"

Farima seemed relieved at the change in conversation. "More of the same," she sighed. "He is quite
focused on the idea of returning to Baldur's Gate. He apologized for accusing me of, well,
whatever it was he thought I did." She frowned. "I know I do not know him well, but he seems
different somehow. Driven. Obsessed almost. The zeal of youth I suppose."

"The Hellriders are sworn to protect Elturel," Lythienne mused. "Now that we know we might
have a chance to save it, maybe that's what drives him." Her brow furrowed. "But then I'd think he
would be pushing to move forward. I don't understand why he doesn't want us to go to
Candlekeep."

There was a brief pause in the conversation as the innkeeper brought the first round of drinks.
Pariah sniffed the contents of the glass and it was some kind of whiskey. She drank a sip, and it
went down more smoothly than any alcohol she'd ever had. "This is nice," she said in surprise, and
took another sip.

Ignoring her, Farima said, "He did keep talking about the devils. He has convinced himself that this
is part of their plan and we are fools for letting them manipulate us."

"I mean, he's not wrong," Pariah said, lowering her voice a bit, though the ruffians at the other
table were getting rowdy with the arrival of the drinks and weren't listening. "About the devils
telling us what to do. Between the shield and my little friend pushing us, I'm a little concerned."
She looked over at Falaster and teased, "And who knows how corrupted Falaster is."

He put on an expression of exaggerated sincerity. "I am a paragon of virtue, clearly incorruptible,"

he joked.

"Except by short, gray-skinned women," she observed.

Falaster shook his head. "I'm going to regret telling you that, aren't I?"

She grinned at him. "Every day you know me."

He smiled back. "I grant that following the counsel of devils is not always the wisest course. I'm
sure that Sylvira will be able to advise us and we can decide our next move when we reach
Candlekeep."

"I'll drink to that," said Lythienne, and they all did so.

Pariah lowered her glass and looked at the surface of the table thoughtfully. "I do want to save
Elturel," she said. "No matter what it takes." She turned to Farima. "I meant that when I said it
before."

Farima nodded slowly. "I am inclined to believe you," she admitted. "And I share your desire.
Perhaps young Ryland will join us as well. He is a valuable ally."

"I agree," Pariah said. "It's just a matter of getting him to trust us, and that's not going to be easy."
Rowan said, "He's also still recovering from learning that the high overseer sacrificed his city to the
Hells. That was quite a blow. His foundation has been shaken, and that's hard for anyone to deal
with." She blew out a breath.

Farima nodded. "I haven't approached the issue of Zariel with him again. I don't think he's ready to
accept it. Perhaps that is the source of his fervor. It is important to him to believe that Zariel died
nobly rather than accepting the truth that she joined Asmodeus."

"It's tragic to have your illusions of your heroes shattered," said Lythienne softly, almost to herself.

"Poor kid," Rowan said. "He's dealing with a lot."

"And doing it alone," Pariah said. "We're all strangers to him. Losing the support of friends and
family makes his situation harder." She smiled sadly. "Trust me."

"At least you found a new family in us," Rowan said, and then she looked embarrassed. "Wow,
that was really corny. I think I've had too much to drink."

They all laughed quietly. "That's okay," Pariah said. "I know what you mean." And she did
appreciate the people around her, though it wasn't the same as what she'd had -- what she'd thought
she'd had, anyhow -- with the Forgotten. She was glad she had been able to talk to Jan before
leaving the city, but that hadn't healed the wound.

As she felt her mood crashing, Pariah stretched. "I think I've had too much to drink, too. I'm headed
to bed."

They all mumbled agreement. Even Lythienne decided to call it an early night. She left a sack of
gold coins with the innkeeper to cover the drinks of the other group, and they all headed to their
rooms.

Pariah and Rowan were sharing a room, as they had the night before. It was a simple room with
two single beds, a table with a basin and pitcher, and presumably pots under one or both beds. A
lantern hung on one wall, and on another were a few hooks for clothes.

"What's wrong?" Rowan asked.

"Huh?" Pariah replied.

"You're making a face," she said. "You did that in the room last night, too. You don't like the
place?"

Pariah realized she was wrinkling her nose in distaste as she looked around the room. "It's not that."
She grimaced, and then said, "It's too clean. Too nice."

"This is nice?" Rowan asked, surveying the room.

Pariah laughed self-consciously. "To filth like me it is. If it doesn't have a leaky roof and rats, it
feels like a palace." She shrugged. "I just don't feel comfortable."

"You want to sleep in the stables?" Rowan teased. "The innkeeper offered."

"You laugh, but...well...kinda."

Rowan shook her head with a slight smile. "A woman who calls herself Pariah when she's not
calling herself filth, and who wants to sleep in the stable. Yup, no self image problems here."
"Shut up," Pariah laughed but felt herself blushing.

Rowan's smile faded. "Seriously, you are an amazing person and you deserve nice things."

Pariah stared at her and said very seriously, "You are in the 'I love you, man' stage of drunkenness
aren't you?"

Rowan laughed. "Gods, I really am. I need to shut up now. Let's go to sleep before I say anything
else embarrassing."

Pariah drifted in limbo. She could see nothing and hear nothing, and then a distant voice called out
softly, "Fire."

Her thoughts were jumbled. She struggled to turn to find the source of the voice but couldn't move.
She strained unsuccessfully to see anything in the blackness. "Fire!" the voice said more loudly.

She realized she was in a dream and fought to wake, but she was trapped in this void. "FIRE!" the
voice bellowed, and someone hammered on the door.

Pariah jerked herself awake. She heard a vague "Wuh?" from Rowan in the other bed. Pariah
dragged herself to her feet and padded barefoot through the dark room to open the inn room's door.

"Fire!" came Zinxi's voice from down the hall as she pounded the next door.

"What's going on?" Pariah asked as she heard Rowan getting out of bed.

"Your wagon's on fire," the gnome said over her shoulder.

"What?" she cried out. Pariah rushed down the hall. Rowan was close behind and she heard the
other doors opening.

She ran out into the night to find the area illuminated by the raging fire consuming their wagon.
The wagon was parked near the stable, and sparks from the flames gently floated towards the
building. She could hear the horses getting restless inside. The townspeople were already trying to
get a bucket brigade going from a horse trough.

"Beshaba's breath," Pariah heard Rowan say. The priest ran to join the bucket line, but Pariah
focused on her magic. She took a breath to calm herself, and then she sent out a ray of icy energy
and swept it over the wagon. She held back the power, trying to use the spell to cool the flames. It
seemed to be working but, like the bucket brigade, too slowly.

Farima rushed past her and stopped near the cart, holding out her hands. She mumbled something
under her breath and water rained down from the empty air. The light downpour didn't douse the
flames, but it drove them back. She maintained her concentration and between the water she
conjured, Pariah's icy magic, and the buckets of water from the others, they finally managed to
extinguish the fire before it could spread.

Everyone gathered around the smoldering wreck. "What happened?" Pariah asked. There was
nothing flammable in the cart, and no other signs of fire on the ground nearby.

"It was those hooligans," the stable master said angrily. "They woke me up. Made me saddle their
horses so they could leave. As they passed your wagon, they laughed and tossed a jar of oil.
Followed that with a lit torch."
"You mean the ones who were staying at the inn?" Lythienne asked. He nodded.

"Why?" ask Farima in bewilderment. Her face was ashen. "They should have no quarrel with us."

"Sore losers," Pariah guessed. She had thought Lythienne's generosity had smoothed things over,
but some people just don't like to lose. "Where did they go?" she asked angrily.

"Galloped north like they were being chased by Myrkul himself, cackling all the way." He shook
his head. "Before you get any ideas, by the time I got your horses ready, they'd be too far to catch."

"Talona's tits," Pariah spat.

"At least the supplies were in our rooms," mused Falaster.

"And the animals are okay," Rowan added.

"I hope," said the stable master. "I'm going to go check on 'em." He headed towards the building,
where they could hear the horses stirring nervously.

"Are you okay?" Rowan asked Farima, putting her hand on the woman's shoulder. Pariah looked
over and saw the Calishite was still pale and was trembling.

"Yes," Farima said. "Forgive me. I dislike fire. There was an incident when I was a child. I will be
fine, though. Thank you for your concern." She took a deep breath and steadied herself.

Rowan returned her attention to the smoldering cart and shook her head. "We had talked about
abandoning the wagon in the last town. I guess now we do."

"I'd think a group that included a priest of Tymora would be luckier," Lythienne observed dryly.

It had been meant as a joke, but Rowan looked troubled. "No, that's not the way it works. Tymora
is the goddess of good fortune; Beshaba is the goddess of bad. If this is the work of anyone, it is
Black Bess."

"Maybe it's a sign we are going in the wrong direction," said Ryland.

Pariah rolled her eyes; he was behind her so couldn't see the gesture. Farima said firmly, "Ryland,
we are not discussing that again." He huffed, but didn't reply.

"I want to thank you folks for your help," Zinxi said. "Weather's been dry. That fire could have
been bad for all of us."

"No problem," Rowan said. The others mumbled agreement.

"It's not much, but I'm happy to treat you all to a round. It's not too far after midnight, so a drink
might help you get back to sleep."

That sounded good to Pariah, and there was nothing more to do out here anyhow. They headed
back into the inn's common room.

The ale did help a bit, and Pariah was able to get a little more sleep before the morning. After
breakfast, which included complimentary pastries along with the communal bowl of stew, the
stable master helped them pack most of their belongings onto the mules. "Better to pack the mules
and two of you walk rather than trying to ride them," he suggested. "You could try riding double,
but that's a strain on the horse and riders if you ride all day."
 Pariah volunteered to walk, not wanting to brave the torture of riding again, and Falaster did the
same. "I don't really like horses," he admitted. "That's why I kept driving the wagon."

For the second day in a row, it was mid-morning before they were ready to head out. Before they
did, Rowan gathered them all together. She held her hand in an odd gesture, her thumb folded in
and her fingers extended. Pariah recognized it as half of the symbol of Beshaba, normally made
with two hands. Rowan was doing the best she could with one. She said, "Beshaba, we humbly
request that you spare our party your attention during our travels, and that you take extra notice of
those who destroyed our wagon."

Hoping that the prayer would ward off misfortune, the group started down the road towards the
next town, Appleshire.

Chapter End Notes

I like writing ahead. It gives me a chance to go back to unpublished chapters and tweak
on things. Staying 10-15 chapters ahead of where I'm posting has proven to be a good
gap.

While struggling with the module's many plot holes and structure flaws, I recently
discovered Descent Into Avernus: The Alexandrian Remix, and I can't recommend it
highly enough. I wish to the Nine Hells I had known about it from the beginning. His
version of DIA makes about a million times more sense than the official module.

It's not going to affect the posted story for about 10 chapters, but from that point
forward the story will include a lot of his material. Some of the remix won't work with
how I've written the story so far, so I'll pick and choose. His changes plus a few my
own ideas are going to cause aspects of this story to diverge significantly from the
official module.

If anyone reading this ever plans to run DIA, you absolutely need to read the remix
first. Even if you don't use it, his discussion of the module's problems and ideas for
solutions are worth the read.
 A Quiet Town
Chapter Summary

Plagued by bad luck, the party slogs on hoping to reach Candlekeep soon before
another tragedy strikes.

One way to judge the quality of a pair of boots is to walk all day, and Pariah's boots were as poor
as they could be without actually falling to pieces. It took only a few miles before her feet started
to hurt, and only a couple more before she had no choice but to call the group to a halt. When she
removed her boots, her feet were starting to blister. Rowan was able to tend to the worst of the
swelling and pain, but Pariah wasn't going to be able to keep walking. Lythienne offered to switch
with her and so Pariah traveled the rest of the way on horseback, barefoot so her sore feet could
breathe. Now, as they reached the town of Appleshire, she ached from riding, though not as badly
as she had the day before.

Appleshire was much bigger than the two small hamlets they'd seen so far. Rather than being just a
wide spot in the main road, a branch led off the Coast Way past a dedicated stable yard and into a
town square. The square had a couple of open air stalls, though it was late enough that nothing was
currently being sold in them. The inn, which sported a sign depicting a man in a crown, was much
larger than the ones they'd stayed at, a full three stories tall. Next to the stable was a cartwright
shop, and next to that was a blacksmith, the sound of hammering metal ringing across the square
even though the sun was below the horizon. There were a couple of other shops, though since she
couldn't read the signs she wasn't sure what they sold.

Pariah dismounted and managed not to fall down this time. She stretched with a groan to soothe the
aching in her muscles. Her feet, still bare, were tender but an ale or two would certainly help with
that. While a dwarf woman with red hair gathered the horses in order to lead them to the stable, the
travelers collected their belongings and headed to the inn.

Pariah saw a sign posted outside the door. The other members of the group chuckled as they read
it. "What does it say?" she asked.

"Oh, right," said Rowan, apologetically. "It reads, 'We don't serve apples here. Apple was the name
of the founder's horse. Horse apple jokes are a good way to get kicked out of this inn.'"

The common room was larger and more crowded than the other inns they'd seen on the trip. Over a
dozen people sat at tables and on stools at the bar, chatting noisily as they ate and drank. They
rented four rooms -- Ryland still insisted on sleeping alone -- at a price quite a bit higher than the
inns they'd stayed at so far. They stowed their gear and returned to the common room to settle
down to the customary perpetual stew. This one was beetroot and balls of an unspecified meat,
served with slices of soft oat bread.

"I asked the innkeeper about the cartwright," Falaster said with his mouth full. "She says he should
be able to set us up with a new wagon in the morning. He's closed now but I'll go see him first
thing.

Pariah said, "Any chance of finding me a new pair of boots?"

He considered that. "I saw a leatherworker and cobbler coming in, but a good pair of boots will
take two or three days to make."

"That long?" she asked in surprise. She'd never owned new boots so had no idea how long they
took to craft.

He nodded. "While I certainly encourage high quality footwear, I suggest you wait until
Candlekeep. There are a host of artisans there and you will be able to have a very fine pair of boots
made. Will yours last until then?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. If we have a cart again, at least nobody needs to walk."

They continued to eat mostly in silence. They were all tired and mostly talked out. Lythienne
wandered off to sit at another table when she was finished eating, always looking to make new
friends. Ryland was still sulky. Eventually, Farima took him to another table and their heads were
together as they talked. Now that she was looking more closely, Pariah definitely got more of a big
sister vibe from Farima than anything romantic. She hoped that Farima would be able to reach the
boy.

As the night wore on, Falaster retired to his room to read. Pariah was tired but restless and wasn't
ready to turn in just yet. She saw a group playing bones and joined in; they were much better sports
than the crowd from the previous night. She lost a few silvers but she had a nice time. Rowan
joined them for a few rolls, and Tymora was good to her, but she headed up to her room fairly
early. Eventually, Pariah started to get sleepy and headed upstairs herself.

It took her a while to drift off. She kept waiting for the next disaster to strike. However, she finally
slipped away into a deep, dreamless sleep. When she woke to the noise of Rowan puttering around
the room getting ready for the day, she felt rested and energetic.

They headed down to eat a hearty breakfast before heading out. The others also seemed to have
had a good night, except for Ryland. His eyes were red and his face was haggard. When Farima
asked about it, he shrugged and said he hadn't slept well. When they were done eating, Falaster and
Farima went out to secure a wagon from the cartwright. Ryland left, mumbling about taking a
walk.

Lythienne, Rowan and Pariah stayed at the breakfast table and talked for a bit, but hit a lull in the
conversation. Searching for a new subject, Pariah said, "So, this Candlekeep place. It's more than
just a library, right?"

Lythienne said, "I haven't been there, but the library is certainly what it's most famous for. I'm not
sure there is much else there."

Pariah let out a groan. "Well that's going to be boring. Falaster said it might be a day or two before
Sylvira can meet with us. Me in a library is like a eunuch in a whorehouse. I don't see the point, and
couldn't do anything about if I did."

The other two women chuckled, and Rowan said, "Didn't Falaster say something about craftsmen?
It might be interesting to watch them work."

"And there are always people to talk to," Lythienne offered. "Some of the most fascinating people
in the world go there to read about anything you can think of."

"Is that what you are looking forward to?" Pariah asked. "Interesting people to talk to?"

"That will certainly be a nice opportunity, but I'm very excited about the library itself."
"You are?" Pariah said in surprise. "You didn't seem like much of a reader to me. Um, no offense, I
guess."

Lythienne smiled. "Although I enjoy conversation and socialization, I dearly love sitting down
with an exciting adventure book. It could be something historical or something fictional, but there
are always delightful new stories to find. Plus they have books on music and art and dance and
anything you can think of."

Pariah looked pensive. "Anything?"

"Oh, yes. It's a wonderful opportunity to discover new things. I know you aren't a reader, but do
you like learning new skills?"

"Most of my life that hasn't been a priority. You learn what you need to survive." She frowned in
thought. "But recently, now that I've had money and more time to myself, I've been exploring some
things. Like learning to use my sword. I was surprised how much more there was to it than just
'stab the enemy with the pointy bit'. Or languages. I've always like the sound of other languages. I
know a few words here and there of Dwarvish, Elvish and Halfling. A couple of Orcish curses.
But, you know, Common gets you by."

"I'd be happy to teach you some Elvish while we travel," said Lythienne. "We have another couple
of days until we get there."

"I can help with that," said Rowan. "My accent's a bit thick, but I'm fluent."

Pariah nodded. "That might be nice." After a moment, she asked, "They really have books on
anything?"

"Definitely," Rowan confirmed. "It's one of the largest libraries in the world. Maybe even the
largest."

Pariah made a thoughtful noise. "Could you teach me to read before we get there?"

Lythienne and Rowan exchanged a glance. "Well, no," Lythienne said diplomatically. "It would
take much longer than two days. And I'm not sure how easy it would be to do on horseback,
anyhow."

"Was there something you wanted to research?" Rowan asked. "Because we could look things up
for you."

"Maybe," she said, and then she shrugged. "Maybe not. Never mind." To change the subject, she
asked Rowan, "What are you hoping to read about?"

"Oh, I had some historical events I was curious about," she said dismissively. Pariah detected a hint
of deception in her tone but didn't press it. Rowan added, "Oh, and I wanted to see if they had
something about working with one hand." She waved her stump. "I mean I'm pretty used to this,
but I still struggle now and then with things like getting dressed. I'm hoping some one-armed
scholar wrote a manual or something."

"Have you ever looked into getting it fixed?" Pariah asked. "I mean, magic can raise the dead
sometimes, right? So can it give you a new arm?"

Rowan nodded. "I did back when it first happened. I spoke to a few priests, most notably Brother
Hodges at the Shrine of the Suffering. He said it could be done, but was beyond his ability. He sent
me to the Temple of Lathander in Elturel. I traveled there, and they said they could do it, but it is
not a cheap process. So," she shrugged, "I've learned to live with one arm."

"Did you ever ask at the High House of Wonders?" Lythienne asked. "Maybe they could craft
some kind of clockwork arm for you."

Rowan looked surprised. "I never thought of that," she said after a moment. "I was so focused on
the idea of magical healing it never occurred to me to look into a mechanical device."

"It's probably also not an inexpensive choice," Lythienne observed, "but it would be worth looking
into when you get back to the city."

"You said there are craftsmen at Candlekeep," Pariah said. "Maybe someone there could build
something."

Rowan nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. I'll definitely have to ask about that. Even something simple
that could grip would be very helpful."

Pariah stretched and said, "I think I'll go to see how the wagon is coming." She pointed to the bag
carrying the puzzle box. "I'll leave this with you two." Farima had left the shield with them already.

She walked out of the inn into the overcast morning. The wind was picking up and dark clouds
were starting to gather overhead. She looked around the town and saw it was much busier than
when they had ridden in the previous night. The two stands in the square were now occupied, one
by a young, dark-haired female halfling selling produce and the other by a muscular human man
selling meat, cheese and milk.

She saw Falaster and Farima talking to a fidgety man in a bright yellow shirt. He was walking with
them, limping heavily on his right leg, and gesturing at a wagon. Pariah ambled over as the two
others looked over the wagon with a critical eye. "How's it coming?" she asked as she got close.

Falaster harrumphed. "We are having a difference opinion with this gentlemen," he nodded at the
man, "about the quality of his wares. And the corresponding price."

"My wagons are all of the finest quality," the cartwright said. "And the cost is quite reasonable."
He smiled an empty smile. "Of course, you are welcome to buy from anyone else. I believe the
next cartwright is four days' travel to the south."

Pariah thought for a moment and then said, "You know, I think he's right. Maybe we should go
elsewhere." Falaster started to stammer and she said quickly, "I mean if the duke would want
someone reliable, don't you think?"

There was a sudden silence. "The...duke?" the cartwright asked.

"Yes. You see, Thalamra..." She stopped and said with a shy smile. "Excuse me, I mean Duke
Vanthampur. Well we are...you might say 'associates' of hers, here on business for the Council of
Four."

"You are business associates of Duke Vanthampur?" he asked skeptically.

"More than just business associates," she chuckled. "We have quite a personal connection to her. It
started when we saved her son's life. That led up to an exciting event at her house the other day
with her and her two other sons. Such interesting young men they are. Why, Falaster, you were a
guest of hers for quite some time, right?"

Farima was visibly grinding her teeth. Shut up, Pariah thought. Please just stay quiet.
Falaster, on the other hand, seemed quite amused. "Oh, that, well yes I was a personal guest of hers
for over a week. I will never forget those remarkable accommodations. And Lady Thione-Hhune
was such a delightful companion during that time. Of course, being on important business for
Candlekeep does put me into certain social circles, but I don't want to brag."

Pariah nodded and put a concerned look on her face. "Thalamra demands the highest quality, don't
you agree? So, if her caravans were to come through here, she'd want a reliable cartwright. If you
feel this man isn't trustworthy then perhaps-"

"No!" the cartwright said quickly. "Of course I can be trusted. I had no idea you were here on
business for the Council of Four. We just get so many...well, you know, rough types. A man has to
protect himself. But for people of your stature, of course we can strike a special deal. And this
wagon." He waved at it derisively. "Not fit for manure. Out back, though, I have something much
finer, much more suited for friends of the duke. At a substantial discount."

"We will pay a fair price," Farima said sharply, glaring at Pariah. "Don't you agree?"

Pariah realized she'd have to make this concession, and it's not like they were short of funds. "Of
course," she said smoothly. "The duke is nothing if not generous."

They followed the limping man to the yard behind his shop, obviously some kind of workspace.
Among the stacks of lumber and spare wagon wheels, there was another cart. Pariah didn't know
much about construction, but even she could tell the wood was high quality, and it was polished
and stained. Their last vehicle had been a rickety collection of wood; this one was the work of an
expert craftsman. As sleazy as the man seemed, he clearly had skills as well.

Pariah nearly choked when the man asked for fifty gold pieces, but Farima firmly accepted the
offer. "Falaster, go get the mules," she said as she paid the cartwright. "Pariah and I will pull the
cart into the street."

The cartwright gleefully limped inside to stow his gold while Falaster headed off to the stable.
Pariah and Farima each grabbed one of the cart shafts and started pulling it towards the street. "I do
not like to lie," Farima growled.

"I didn't lie," Pariah said. "Everything I said was true."

"You speak like a devil," she said accusingly.

Pariah paused. "Okay, true. But it sounded like he was trying to cheat you guys."

"One deception does not warrant another."

She pursed her lips. "Sometimes it does. Look, we paid him a fair price. We have a wagon that
won't fall apart two miles down the road. Everybody wins."

Farima said nothing. They continued in an awkward silence until the cart was out on the road and
then she set the brake. The dwarven stable master was leading the mules, Falaster walking next to
her. Pariah looked around and saw Ryland down the road, leaning against a fence and staring off
across a field. "Ryland!" she called out. "We're leaving!" He looked over at her for a second and
then slowly started strolling towards them.

She went inside to get Rowan and Lythienne. They all gathered their luggage from their rooms and
loaded up the wagon while the stable master hooked up the mules, and then brought out their
horses. Lythienne eyed the sky sourly. "It's a bit early in the season for a storm," she said. "We
should probably buy rain gear just in case."
The stopped in at the store and bought coats of hard-felted wool to protect them from the rain, and
a large piece of tarred canvas to cover the wagon contents. Rowan also had a newly purchased keg
of ale loaded into the wagon. "To keep us warm in this chill weather," she said.

Before they left, Rowan gathered them in a circle. Again she made the symbol of Beshaba and said
a short prayer, asking the Maid of Misfortune to turn her attention elsewhere. Things had gone well
during the last day, though no one wanted to say that out loud for fear of attracting her attention.

"How are you feeling today?" Pariah asked Lythienne as they headed for the horses.

"Much better, thank you," she said. "I think I'll ride, if you don't mind taking a seat in the cart."

"Fine with me," Pariah said. She climbed up next to Falaster, checking over her shoulder to be sure
her bag was behind her. The others mounted up and they headed out in their usual formation:
Rowan and Lythienne in front, the cart coming next, and Farima and Ryland behind. They headed
down the bypass until they rejoined the Coast Way and turned south. They sky ahead was gray and
the clouds grew thicker in the distance.

Falaster watched the flashes of lightning in the distant thunderhead as the wind whipped his hair. "I
hope that isn't an omen," he said.
 A Driving Rain
Chapter Summary

Their fortunes finally seemed to have turned towards the positive as they near
Candlekeep and the end of their journey.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It wasn't even mid-day when the storm broke. The wind picked at their clothing and the steady
downpour quickly turned the road into mud. Pariah, warm and dry inside her raincoat, wasn't
bothered by the weather itself. However, she knew the noise and reduced visibility would make
ambush easier, and she didn't want to fight standing in the slippery mud. Unfortunately, there was
nothing they could do about it but slog on.

It was slow going and hard on the animals. They passed a few travelers heading north and were, as
before, always watchful but nothing untoward happened. The rain never stopped, but it did slow at
times and during these lulls, Lythienne rode next to the cart and made good on her offer to try
teaching Pariah some Elvish. Pariah learned a few words like rain, wet, mud and miserable, but
Lythienne also taught her more general terms and some basic grammar.

They arrived at the next town, Virrath, before the sun had set. It was typical of the smaller hamlets
they'd seen, nothing much more than an inn and a general store. The group ate in glum silence,
brought down by the weather, though slightly enlivened by the feel of warm stew in their bellies.
Even Lythienne was subdued. They all turned in early for their last night on the road. The rain
steadily drummed on the roof of the inn and the sound lulled Pariah into a restful sleep.

The rain had stopped the next morning, but the sky was gray and dismal and the mud was still
thick on the ground. The horses and mules were rested and well fed, plus their wagon hadn't been
lit on fire in the night, so that was a bonus. After a hearty breakfast that included lots of hot coffee,
they loaded up and headed out on the last leg of their journey, though they did not continue to
follow the Coast Way. Instead, they turned onto a road that branched off to the right of the
southbound main road. "The Way of the Lion" Falaster had called it -- the road to Candlekeep. A
weathered sign nailed to a leaning post pointed down the road. Pariah couldn't read it, but her
attention was drawn to the raven perched solemnly atop it. There was no reason to believe
Thurstwell was still spying on them, but she watched the bird carefully nonetheless. It watched her
back for a bit, and then turned away when it realized the passing creatures were neither predator
nor prey.

As they followed the road towards the sea, the clouds started to break and the sun came out again.
Pariah felt her spirits lift as the gloom faded. She still kept a sharp eye on her surroundings, but
there were few trees for ambushers to hide behind so she felt a little better about the safety of the
road.

Eventually she noticed a shape on the horizon that slowly resolved itself into the gray walls and
pale spires of Candlekeep. It stood on a rocky crag overlooking the sea, approachable only by the
road they were now on. The keep had one large central tower with many smaller towers around it.
They continued to travel until, around mid-afternoon, the road ended in a heavy gate flanked by
towers. She had not expected a library to be so well fortified.

As they approached the gate, three figures in purple robes came out of the gatehouse to greet them:
a human man with pockmarked skin, a dwarven woman with a tattoo above her right eyebrow, and
an elven man with curly blonde hair. Pariah saw they each wore a symbol hanging from a chain: a
lit candle above an open eye. She'd seen it among the shrines in Twin Songs, but didn't remember
which god it symbolized.

"Greetings," called out the elf. "Welcome to Candlekeep. A gift is required from those seeking
admittance. Each of you must donate a book or scroll that isn't already in the library's archives.
Please present your gifts for inspection."

"I know how it works, Cydrel," said Falaster lightly.

The elf looked surprised and then laughed. "I'm sorry, Master Falaster. I did not see you there.
Welcome back." He came up to the wagon to grip Falaster's hand in greeting. "It has been too
long." The other two didn't approach, but both smiled and gave Falaster nods of greeting.

Falaster reached into the wagon behind him to bring out three books. "I have here a book of
Calishite recipes, a play entitled 'The Puzzling Halfling Foundling', and a rather interesting novel
called 'Splendid Tales'. It is notable not just for being written in Infernal, but also for the lengthy
handwritten dedication on the title page. These books will pay for me, her and him," he said,
nodding at Pariah and Ryland. "The others have their own payments."

The elf took the books with a grateful nod. He looked at the cover of the first and, after a moment,
the pendant around his neck glowed softly. He moved the book to the bottom of the stack and
examined the second. Again the pendant lit up briefly, as it did for the third. "Thank you, Master
Falaster. These will be acceptable."

The other two figures collected books from the rest of the group. Lythienne offered a manual of
exercises from the Order of the White Circle, Farima gave a book that detailed the visions of a
Calishite prophet, and Rowan presented the biography of a sea captain. Each was examined by one
of the monks and their pendants glowed at each book. They nodded mutely to the elf and he turned
to Falaster. "These will do nicely. Now, if you will all turn over your weapons, you may enter the
keep."

The dwarf signaled the tower and the gates started to open. The group, having been previously
warned by Falaster, had their weapons ready to turn over to the monks. Pariah felt an odd sense of
loss as she handed over her rapier, like they were taking away her arm rather than her sword. In
recent days she had become aware that the blade was not merely a weapon. It was somehow
imbued with a part of her and a part of him. She ached inside as the monk took it away. She
consoled herself with the fact that she had recently discovered yet another new trick: she could
summon the sword to her side. All she had to do was reach out and it would appear in her empty
hand. Not that she planned to do that while inside the keep, but it made her feel a little better about
leaving it behind.

Addressing the group at large, the elf said, "Master Falaster can show you to the stable and the
guest quarters. You are welcome to stay for a tenday and then you must leave. You may return
after a month has passed, though another payment will be required. The wearing of armor within
the keep is discouraged so please remove it when you reach your quarters. And, if any of you are
spellcasters, the use of offensive magic is strictly forbidden. If you have any questions or concerns,
any of the monks will be happy to help." The gate was fully open now and he waved expansively
towards the opening. "Please enter, seekers."
The group rode through the gate into a large cobblestoned courtyard, Falaster leading the way in
the wagon while the horses followed behind. "What was with the pendants?" Pariah asked Falaster.
"Why did they light up?"

"They are magically linked to the library," he explained. "The glow confirms that the work either
doesn't exist in the library, or is a superior version to the edition on hand."

Straight ahead of them a wall set with a dozen towers blocked access past the courtyard. She
caught a glimpse of movement at the top of the rightmost tower. It had looked like some kind of
horse-sized animal, but that seemed a silly place to have a stable. She shrugged it off as a strange
shadow.

Beyond the wall in front of them was a rising, verdant hillside where she could see the spires of the
main keep. In the wall was a large, dark green door with a monk standing in front of it. Normally
she might not have noticed the door, but it stood out because it glowed softly even in the afternoon
sun.

Inside the gate they turned to the right. Along this wall were a number of buildings. "This is The
Hearth," announced Falaster to the group, motioning to the first building they passed. "It's a dining
hall and social gathering place. It also contains shrines to Deneir, Gond and Milil." He stopped the
wagon in front of the building past The Hearth. "This is the House of Rest," he said, "where you
will be staying. Let's unload here."

Past the House of Rest, in the corner where two of the outer walls met, was a stables. As they
dismounted and started to unload, several purple-robed monks come forward to greet them and
take the horses and wagon. Falaster pointed back the way they came. "On the other side of the
main gate is the bathhouse, the infirmary, and the House of the Binder, which is a temple to
Oghma. Feel free to wander around anywhere in the courtyard. I'm going to head inside." He
pointed to the green door Pariah had spotted. "I'll talk to Sylvira about getting you an audience. We
can also talk later about getting you access to the libraries, craftsmen or other facilities of the main
keep. If you should need me in the meantime, ask the Keeper of the Emerald Door to send me a
message. Any questions?"

His abruptness caused a general sense of confusion among the group. "Not at the moment, I
suppose," said Lythienne hesitantly.

Falaster pursed his lips. "I'm sorry if I'm being a bit brusque and suddenly abandoning you in a
strange place," he said apologetically. "I'm tired from the road and really want to go lie down for a
while; I have quarters inside the keep. I'll come back this evening. In the meantime, any of the
monks can answer questions you might have."

"Lying down for a bit sounds good," Rowan admitted, stretching. "Why don't you come back and
have supper with us?"

He nodded. "That would be a good idea. If nothing else, I should have an answer from Sylvira
about when she can see you. I'm hoping she can speak with you tomorrow." Falaster grabbed his
possessions from the wagon, and then turned and crossed the courtyard towards the green door.

The rest of the group carried their luggage into the House of Rest, finding themselves in a lobby of
sorts. It wasn't very big but there were a few couches and chairs. On the right wall was a double
door, and from the location it was obvious it led to The Hearth. To the left was a hallway lined
with a number of doors, and stairs led to a second floor. In front was a reception desk holding a
ledger, and behind that a doorway that led to another room.
As they entered, a woman wearing the usual purple robes of the monks came out of the office. She
was a wood elf like Lythienne, though her copper skin had a greenish tinge to it. The points of her
ears peeked out of her curly brown hair. "Greetings, seekers," she said with a smile. "How many of
you will be staying with us today?"

"Five," said Lythienne, motioning to the group.

"Excellent." She looked over the ledger and then said, "The women can stay in room 7 and the
gentleman can bunk up in room 4."

"Four to a room?" Lythienne said in surprise.

"Room and basic board are provided free of charge, and so accommodations are simple. Our guests
usually spend most of their time either in the library or in The Hearth. I apologize if that is
inconvenient."

Lythienne shook her head. "I wasn't complaining. Just surprised."

The woman turned the ledger towards the group. "If each of you will sign in, please."

Each of them signed the book in turn. Rowan went first and she turned to Pariah to say, "I'll sign
you in." She paused. "Do you have a last name?"

Pariah shook her head. "Not at the moment. Never had a use for one."

Rowan nodded and wrote something in the book. Pariah looked over her shoulder in curiosity. She
saw Rowan had written something long, presumably her own name, and a 7 in a column next to it.
She couldn’t read but she could recognize numbers. Below that she had written something much
shorter, also with a 7 next to it. Pariah realized that must be her name. She mused over the fact that
somehow that scrawl represented her.

She watched the others sign as well and was intrigued by how different each name looked, not just
the letters but the styles. Farima wrote her name with precise, straight strokes, while Lythienne's
flowing handwriting was practically a work of art. These names represented not just what they
were called, but their personalities as well.

"Do we get keys?" Rowan was asking the woman.

She shook her head. "The high room occupancy makes issuing keys a problem. Seekers are
expected to exhibit a certain level of decorum. Theft and other crimes are rare here, and are
punished quite harshly. So the doors to the rooms do not lock. However, if you have valuables you
wish to protect, we do have a safe in the office. Otherwise, we suggest you keep valuables on your
person." Ryland was the last person to sign the book. The woman turned the ledger around,
glanced at it and then said, "Enjoy your stay. If you need any assistance, I or one of my colleagues
should be in the office."

They made their way down the hall towards their rooms. Ryland's was first and he entered without
so much as a grunt of goodbye. The women continued a short distance down the corridor to find
room 7. The room was, as the receptionist had said, very basic. Two bunk beds and a table with a
basin and ewer filled the small space. At the foot of each bed was a two-drawer dresser. In the far
wall was a wide window, mounted high so it could let in dim light without compromising the
residents' privacy.

The space was tight enough that they had to take turns stowing their belongings. Pariah and Rowan
removed their armor while the other two waited in the hall. "I think I'm going to check out The
Hearth," Lythienne said through the open door. "Anyone want to join me?"

"I will," said Pariah. To Rowan she said, "You want to come or did you want to rest?"

Rowan looked thoughtful. "Actually, I think I'll go to the bathhouse. Wash off the trail dust. But
then, yeah, I think I want to lie down for a bit."

"A bath seems agreeable," said Farima.

Pariah mulled that over. "Tempting," she said, "but I’m more thirsty than dirty right now. Maybe
I'll go after supper."

Farima and Rowan headed down the hall, with the other two close behind. As they passed Ryland's
door, Pariah glanced over at Lythienne. She pointed at the door with a questioning look.

Lythienne sighed ever so slightly. "I suppose," she said quietly, "although I'm getting a little tired
of his petulance."

Pariah said, "I think it would be better for you to ask."

Lythienne knocked on the door and said, "Ryland? We are headed to The Hearth. Do you want to
come?"

A muffled "no" came through the door and that was all. Lythienne looked at Pariah and shrugged,
and the two women continued on to the lobby. Lythienne opened the door there that led to The
Hearth and waved Pariah through.

On the other side was a pretty typical pub with a low ceiling supported by massive wooden
crossbeams. Little sunlight came through the narrow windows and the area was lit mostly by a
large fire pit in the middle of the room. A pot simmered over the fire, and behind a bar counter in
the back of the room she could see a doorway into a kitchen.

Along one wall were three small rooms open to the main dining hall. Each had kneeling benches
with handrails in front, and altars some distance beyond the rails. An unlit candle floated in the air
above one altar and on the wall behind it was the same candle and eye symbol the monks wore. A
silver harp sat atop the second altar, and on the wall was an illustration of a harp made of leaves;
she didn't know who that represented. On the third altar was a strange mechanical device, which
she didn't recognize, but on the wall was a symbol she was familiar with: an iron cog that
symbolized Gond, the god of crafters. Their clergy sometimes tried to hire people from the Outer
City for "completely safe" experiments involving new potions and mechanical devices.

Seven tables with matching benches were scattered about the rest of the room, and the pub was at
about half capacity at the moment. It was the usual local mix of mostly human with a few elves,
dwarves and halflings scattered among them. However, one patron attracted Pariah's notice right
away.

In one corner sat a massive humanoid creature. He was probably half again as tall as a human and
was massively proportioned. He had an obese frame but, from the muscles that rippled under his
yellow-brown skin as he moved, it was obviously not all fat. Great tusks jutted up from his lower
jaw and Pariah could see the tips of sharp teeth peeking out from between his open lips. Everything
about this figure screamed "monster".

Everything, that is, except his dress and composure. He wore black pants, leather shoes, a white
shirt and a blue vest, all tailored to fit his massive frame. The firelight glinted off a golden circlet
that rested on his forehead. He was lounging in a chair, also tailored to his enormity, and engrossed
in a thick book with a worn spine.

"Well, that's not something you see every day," observed Lythienne.

"What is it?" Pariah asked her in what she thought was a low voice.

"It's not an it," the figure rumbled, not taking his eyes from his book. Apparently his hearing was
quite good. "It's a he."

Pariah felt herself flushing. She walked across to where the huge creature sat and said, "I'm sorry.
That was rude."

He looked up at studied her with bright eyes. He gave a low chuckle and said, "Apology accepted.
I have come to terms with the fact that most people aren't sure what to make of me and
occasionally speak without thinking." He gave her a lopsided grin. "But I suspect you have been on
the receiving end of such comments yourself."

She returned his half smile, still feeling embarrassed. "Sometimes, which is why I should have
known better."

"No harm done," he assured her and she sensed no offense from him. He held out a massive hand.
"I am called Little One."

She shook his hand, her own hand engulfed in his massive fist. "Pariah," she said.

"Lythienne," the elf said, also shaking his hand.

"And," he said to Pariah, "to answer your question, I am an ogre."

Pariah had never actually seen an ogre but she'd heard of them. They were stupid and mercilessly
violent. Some of the nastier gangs used them for muscle, but they were hard to control. She wasn't
sure what to say, not wanting to be insulting.

"I am a collector of stories," Lythienne said to him. "I can't help but think you must have a good
one. Would it be impolite of me to ask?"

"Not at all," he assured her. "I feel my story demonstrates that anyone can be redeemed under the
right circumstances. That even the most evil and foul creatures can become something else. Please.
Sit."

Pariah and Lythienne dragged one of the empty benches from a nearby table, stopping to order
drinks from the bar. Little One had carefully placed a bookmark in his book and placed it on the
table next to him. As they got settled, he began.

"You may have heard stories of ogres, and I'm sad to say they are true. My kind are cruel and
brutish, and prone to eating our opponents. I was every bit that brainless monster in the past, and
I'm deeply ashamed of what I used to be."

He tapped the golden circlet he wore. "One day I saw a halfling on the road wearing this shiny
thing. I wanted it, so I killed him and took it. I was going to put it on my wrist, but to my surprise it
expanded as I held it. I realized it would fit on my head like it had on his. I put it on and suddenly
my mind was filled with energy. This headband is magical and grants its wearer great intellect.

"At first I was angry as these alien thoughts buzzed about inside my head like a swarm of wasps.
Previously the world around me was divided into simple categories: things to kill, things to not kill,
and occasionally things to run away from. But now there were so many new categories. I stared at
a bird as it soared through the air and I found myself wondering not if it would taste good, but how
it could fly. I watched a beetle walk along the ground and marveled how it coordinated its legs. I
looked at my own hand, opening and closing my fingers and wondering how my body knew how
to do that. It was new and upsetting, but it was also wonderful."

He had been smiling as he told the story, his eyes gazing off into his memories. Now, however, his
expression grew sober. "Then I looked down at the tiny body of the previous owner of my new
treasure. At first I was just fascinated by..." He hesitated. "Well, not to be disrespectful of the dead,
but my blow had torn him open and I was intrigued by his insides. I wondered how they worked.
Then I started to look through his things. Many of his possessions confused me. I found a drawing
that I didn't understand, though I later realized it was a map. And then..." His voice caught and he
took a moment to compose himself.

"And then," he continued, "I found another rolled up picture in his pack. It was an illustration
drawn in ink showing a halfling woman holding a baby." His eyes shone in the firelight as he
smiled sadly. "I was momentarily confused why he would be carrying a picture like that until I
realized that, of course, it was his family."

His mood grew dark. "I had never thought about the people I killed before. They were just prey. It
never crossed my mind they had wives and husbands and sons and daughters and fathers and
mothers and friends and lovers. I had robbed this woman of her husband, this baby of its father,
over a shiny trinket that might have been made of brass for all I knew at the time.

"I mused over this one fact for days: why did I feel remorse over this man's death? At first, I
thought my new intelligence had brought forth this sense of morality, that only dumb brutes like I
had been were cruel or evil. Surely, I thought, intelligence must make one ethical, for the ability to
understand the consequences of one's actions would make it impossible to do harm to others." He
laughed bitterly. "I have since learned how naïve that belief was."

He shrugged. "Well, I would be happy to discuss the philosophy of intelligence and education as it
relates to ethical decision making, as it has become something of a passion of mine, but that isn't
the story you wanted to hear." He thought for a moment. "I abandoned my old name, which was a
rather graphic description of how I liked to murder, and took the name Little One in homage to the
halfling I had killed. I set out hoping to reform my ways and atone for my past sins. Sadly, others
did not make that easy. People see an ogre and they see a monster, no matter how articulate his
speech. At best, people ran from me; at worst, they attacked me. My own kind shunned me,
confused and frightened by the changes in my personality and attitude.

"Eventually, though, I met a priest of Oghma, a gnome named Mankle the Skeptic. He had heard
stories of the eloquent monster and had come to find me. He had thought I might be a member of a
new subspecies of ogres, and was disappointed to find my intellect the product of a magical device.
However, he spoke with me at length and saw my desire to better myself. He became my teacher
and my friend." He smiled warmly. "He gave me the greatest gift a teacher can give: the ability to
read. And then he brought me here where my voracious appetite could be sated, an appetite for
knowledge rather than destruction. The monks were so fascinated by my case that they invited me
to stay, and here I have made my home." His eyes twinkled. "I am aware that the monks are
studying me as industriously as I study the Candlekeep library, but I do not mind. I am the center
of a number of debates and I'm quite touched to be the source of so much insightful discussion."

He grinned at them, which was a little unsettling with all of the pointed teeth exposed, and said,
"So that's my story. Was it interesting enough for you?"
 Lythienne smiled back. "Very much so. Thank you for sharing."

Pariah was mulling over what he had said. "How long did it take for you to learn to read?"

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "it's hard to say. Working the brain is like working a muscle; you get
tired. You can't just grind through it every waking hour. I'd say it was two or three months before I
could read simple volumes, and over a year before I was fairly literate. However, I've never
stopped learning. Not only do I learn new words all the time, but as I learn new languages I have to
learn to read them as well."

"Reading is different for each language?" she asked. As the question came out, she felt foolish. Of
course it would be different.

"It is," he said, with no hint of condescension in his voice. "It's not so bad when the language uses
the same alphabet, but learning to read a different writing system adds to the challenge. For
example, Dwarvish and Halfling both use Dwarvish script, but Elvish uses different symbols."

She sighed in disappointment. "So it's not possible to-" She shook her head. "Never mind."

He grinned at her. "To learn to read everything?" he asked. She leaned back in shock. Did the
circlet let him read minds as well? He chuckled. "Believe me, my friend, I have the same goal. I
would love to live long enough to read every book in Candlekeep, but it would take decades just to
learn all the languages. I shall have to be content to be able to read only about a third to half, which
would still take me multiple lifetimes."

"I imagine there is plenty to read that is written in the languages you understand," said Lythienne
to Pariah. "And people will translate from one language to another. You could learn to read and
have access to plenty of information."

"Yeah, I guess," she said gloomily "But, a year? Just for one language?" She looked at the other
woman. "Considering where I'm headed after Candlekeep, I guess it's not time to make any long
term plans."

Chapter End Notes

In addition to what was in the module, I consulted the Forgotten Realms Wiki and An
Introduction to Candlekeep, and the "Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide". There is a lot
of interesting, and sometimes contradictory, information to be found in those sources.
 A Critical Meeting
Chapter Summary

The group prepares to meet with Sylvira, a Candlekeep scholar who specializes in the
Lower Planes, hoping she can tell them the significance of the infernal puzzle box.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Ryland and the four women approached the Emerald Door after breakfast. They were unarmored,
as required by the keep, except for the golden shield that Farima carried; Falaster had said the
previous night that Sylvira was interested in examining it. Pariah also carried the puzzle box. The
storm had moved inland so the day was brighter than when they had arrived and the air was warm.
Standing in front of the slightly glowing green door was a small human man with curly red hair.
He wore the purple robes of the monks, and Falaster had informed them at supper that this man
was the Keeper of the Emerald Door. He had told them to give him their names the following
morning and he would see they were escorted to Sylvira's laboratory.

As they approached, he turned a friendly but guarded smile towards them. He said nothing. Rowan
said, "I am Rowan. This is Lythienne, Ryland, Pariah and Farima. We are here to meet with
Sylvira."

He inclined his head in greeting. "Your guide is waiting through the door," he said in a soft voice.
"Please do not go anywhere inside the keep unless you are escorted. He will take you to your
destination and wait to bring you back here." The door opened, though she saw nobody standing
near it, and he gestured them inside.

Another monk waited for them past the entry. He was a pudgy half-elf with the same quiet resolve
as the other monks. Pariah had expected the entry to be tastefully decorated, like the entrance to a
temple, but this room was martial and dangerous. Archer slits lined the walls. In the ceiling she
could see the tips of the spikes of three separate portcullises. The brick floor was dotted with holes
and she wasn't sure what they were for. There were four doors other than the one they entered, two
ahead and one on each side, and each door was iron-plated.

The monk silently motioned for them to follow and he headed to the left door on the far wall. It
opened, again without any visible means, and the monk moved silently through. Pariah had learned
to move quietly in the alleys of the Outer City, but her muted footfalls seemed loud compared to
the whisper of his soft-soled slippers.

The journey was long and confusing. He quietly led them through a maze of hallways, up and
down spiral staircases, and occasionally out onto bridges that spanned between the towers. Some of
the bridges were covered, but some had no railing to keep a careless pedestrian from falling to the
vast gardens below. She certainly would not have been able to find her way back on her own. She
wondered if he was deliberately taking them on a confusing route to keep them from knowing the
interior of the keep well, but since different parts of the interior looked so much alike it was hard to
tell.

They passed other monks who each nodded silent greeting to the visitors. That was the one thing
that started to get to Pariah after a while: the silence. There were obviously other people in the keep
and yet there was barely any sound other than their own footsteps. They passed many closed
doors, and peeking through the few open ones revealed nothing more than tables and chairs,
always empty. Some of the rooms had signs on the doors, but that didn't help her.

Finally, at the end of a hallway, they reached a door that seemed just like the others they had
passed. The monk stopped, turned to the group, and gestured towards it. Lythienne and Rowan,
who had been in front of the group, exchanged a glance. As Rowan reached for the door handle,
Lythienne whispered, "Thank you," her soft voice loud in the stillness.

They passed through the door to enter a circular tower chamber. Arched windows, currently
shuttered, punctuated the walls, and between the windows stood bookcases stuffed with countless
volumes. Tables were scattered about the room, their surfaces crowded with specimen jars,
alchemical equipment, and other clutter Pariah couldn't identify. In the middle of the chamber was
a clear space where a large nine-pointed star was engraved into the floor.

By one of the windows, Falaster was engaged in deep conversation with a middle-aged tiefling
woman. Her skin was reddish like a bad sunburn, and her eyes were human-like but the irises were
black, or at least a very dark color. Her horns were thicker than Pariah's and ridged. They curved
sideways around her head and over over her jet black hair. She was dressed in a high-collared robe
of tan and green silk.

What really caught Pariah's eye was the two-foot-tall fiend perched on a corner of a table, listening
to the conversation with a bored air. It had warty green skin, buggy eyes, thin black horns and a
whip-like tail. Pariah felt the group grow tense when they spotted it, but presumably it was...well,
maybe not friendly, but at least not an enemy.

Three sets of eyes turned to look at the newcomers. The tiefling gave them a bright smile, though
Pariah could detect a cold, calculating mind behind it. "There you are," she said with just a hint of
impatience. "I'm Sylvira Savakis. Welcome to my laboratory. I can't tell you how pleased I am to
meet you." The latter comment was directed at the group, but her attention was focused on Pariah.

Her gaze quickly shifted to the box Pariah carried. "Well, well, and what have you brought me?"
She hurried forward and reached out for the box.

Pariah hesitated, but it was what they had come here for. With some reluctance she held out the
puzzle box and Sylvira snatched it out of her hands. She made thoughtful hums as she took it over
to a clear space on one of the work tables and started examining it.

Falaster pointed to one of the empty walls and said to Farima, "You can put the shield over there.
She'll want to examine that as well." Farima placed the golden shield on the floor, leaning against
the wall.

The fiend scurried over to Sylvira, moving its limbs in alien and disturbing ways. "Pretty thing,
pretty thing," it chittered as it looked over the box.

"Don't touch, Jezebel," Sylvira warned

"Aw," it whined. "Want to see the pretty thing. Want to see the secrets."

"We'll find the secrets in a moment," she said, not taking her gaze off the box as she carefully
examined the maze.

The fiend looked over at the group. "Lots of secrets here," it chuckled. "Many secrets to find." It
scuttled over to the group and they all recoiled a bit.

"She's harmless," Falaster assured them. "That is Sylvira's familiar. She's somewhat curious and
mischievous, but nothing to be afraid of."

"Is it a devil?" Lythienne asked, both curious and repelled.

"A demon, actually. A quasit."

"But still a fiend," Farima said distastefully.

The quasit scampered around them, sniffing them and occasionally poking at them, muttering,
"Secrets, secrets, where are the secrets?"

"Jezebel, cut that out," Sylvira said absently but the thing ignored her.

It was behind Pariah when it suddenly shrieked, "Secrets! There they are!" It scrambled up her legs
and back, its sharp claws digging into her flesh. She felt it lifting her shirt, revealing her belly and
back. "Look at the secrets!" it crowed triumphantly.

Instinctively she reached around and grabbed it, flinging it away from her. "Get off me!" she
snarled. She turned to see that Falaster and Sylvira were both staring at her. Sylvira rushed
forward, grabbed Pariah's shirt and lifted it, gaping at her infernal tattoos. Pariah jerked her shirt
away and shoved the other tiefling back. "Hey!" she yelled.

Sylvira met her gaze and suddenly her skin turned a deeper red. "I'm so sorry," she said, obviously
embarrassed by her impulsive move. "I didn't mean...that is...What is that?"

"Nothing," Pariah said defensively.

Sylvira stared at her, her mouth open. "Is that your contract?"

Pariah glanced at Falaster. "I informed her of your situation," he admitted.

Sylvira's eyes were glued to Pariah's stomach, like she was trying to see through her clothing to the
tattoos below. "May I see it? Just for a moment."

Pariah felt her face growing hot. After a moment she silently lifted her shirt to reveal the lower part
of her stomach. Sylvira knelt down to look at the writing more closely. She mumbled in Infernal,
"...in return for the preservation of the lives of my companions I pledge the soul of the priest
named..."

"Enough!" Pariah said, lowering her shirt.

Sylvira climbed to her feet, looking disappointed. "Would you be willing to let me look at the
whole thing more clearly later? Transcribe it?" Seeing Pariah's hesitation, Sylvira said, "Look, I'm
sorry I was rude, but the text of any infernal contract can be a valuable source of study, especially a
contract with someone as powerful as Levistus. It would be a great contribution to my studies of the
Outer Planes. I don’t mean right now. We would do this in privacy. Falaster would not be here.
Just you and me. And probably Jezebel since she assists me."

Pariah grimaced. "Yeah, I guess so," she mumbled.

"I would like to be present," Farima said.

Pariah looked at her in surprise. "Well, I'd rather you weren't."

"You said you would be honest with us about your relationship with that creature. I think it is only
fair that we know the details of your contract."

"Then read it after she writes it down."

"I would rather be present for the actual transcription," Farima insisted.

"Look, this is going to be humiliating enough without you standing there lecturing me."

"I do not lecture," Farima said indignantly. "I simply try to educate you about some of your past
mistakes in the hopes you can make better decisions in the future."

Pariah raised her eyebrows. "I know I'm just stupid Outer City filth, but isn't that what 'lecture'
means?"

Farima stammered for a moment and then said grudgingly, "Very well, I suppose you are correct."
She looked away. "I mean no offense. I do not dislike you. I may not agree with all of your life
choices, but I worry about your fate should you fall to this fiend's corruption. It might be to your
benefit for another to be familiar with the complexities of the contract."

Pariah sighed, "Fine, you can stay."

"Would you like us there too?" Rowan asked.

"No," she said sharply. She added in a calmer tone, "I mean, no thank you. I'm not looking to make
it into a party."

"We could do this later today, if you are amenable," Sylvira suggested, trying unsuccessfully to
hide her eagerness.

"Fine," Pariah said in resignation. Wanting a change in subject, she said, "So, do you think you can
open the box?"

"Oh, yes," Sylvira said, remembering her previous task. "I've seen a puzzle box with a similar
design before."

She paused and then turned to Ryland. "But first, I think you need to prepare yourself for what we
will find inside."

"Me?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes. Falaster told me you have struggled to accept the truth of Kreeg's role in Elturel's fate."
Ryland said nothing, but pursed his lips and looked down at the ground. She continued, "I've been
suspicious of him for a long time but no one wanted to hear my concerns. They, like you, see him
as the hero who saved the city from the undead, giving rise to the holy nation of Elturgard."

She stepped over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Gently, she said, "However, I think that
act of salvation was exactly what led to Elturel's downfall. I believe that he made a deal with one or
more powerful devils. And I think the Creed Resolute was his tool to doom the citizens of the
city."

Ryland looked back at her, his eyes wide with shock. Pariah expected him to object but he simply
looked stunned. Sylvira turned slightly to the rest of the group and said to them, "The Creed
Resolute is an oath that all citizens of Elturel take. It binds their bodies and souls to the defense of
the city." To Ryland she said, "I think that he created the creed with the intent of using it to pull
their souls into the Hells. That has been his plan since he called forth the Companion fifty years
ago. And the proof, I believe, is inside that box. Do you understand?"

Ryland said nothing, just nodded sharply. His eyes were rimmed with red.

Sylvira turned and walked back to the table where she had left the puzzle box. "Jezebel," she said,
"bring me the vial of minotaur spinal fluid." The quasit scampered to one of the tables, snatched up
a vial from among a collection of a couple of dozen and dashed over to put it in Sylvira's
outstretched hand. Sylvira uncapped it and carefully poured four drops of black liquid into one of
the mazelike troughs in the box's surface. She recapped the vial and handed it back to Jezebel, who
returned it to the table she had gotten it from. Sylvira picked up the box and carefully tipped it back
and forth, guiding the fluid through the channels of the maze.

The ivory inlays suddenly popped loose and the sides of the box folded out. The group moved
forward to see revealed a set of nine plates of dark iron, each three inches on a side, and chained
together like a crude book. There was writing stamped into the metal, the characters too small to
see at this distance.

Sylvira mumbled a spell. "Checking for traps or other surprises," she explained. After a few
moments she said, "It looks safe." She picked up a magnifying lens and started poring over the tiny
writing, the metal plates clanking as she flipped from one to another.

"What does it say?" Pariah asked as she finished.

"It's as I suspected: proof of Kreeg's conspiracy. It is the contract he made, trading the souls of
Elturel to Zariel. I can read you a few choice passages." She turned back to the first plate and
started reading aloud.

"Be it known to all that I, Thavius Kreeg, High Overseer of Elturel, have sworn to my master,
Zariel, lord of Avernus, to keep the agreements contained in this oath."

She flipped to another page and continued. "I hereby submit to Zariel in all matters and for all time.
I will place Her above all creatures, living and dead. I will obey Her all my days and beyond with
fear and servility."

The metal clanked as she turned two more pages. "I recognize the dispensation of the device called
the Solar lnsidiator, hereafter called the Companion." Clank, clank. "In my capacity as High
Overseer of Elturel and its vassal territories, I acknowledge that all lands falling under the light of
the Companion are forfeit to Zariel. All persons bound by oath to defend Elturel are also
considered forfeit. I further recognize that this dispensation will last fifty years, after which the
Companion will return whence it came, taking Elturel and its oath-bound defenders with it, if that
is Zariel's wish."

She turned to the final plate and read, "All this is my everlasting pledge."

There was a heavy silence in the room as they all digested the truth of this. It had been one thing
when Elturel's sacrifice was a theory, but seeing proof of it was sobering. Pariah was still torn up
with guilt over sacrificing one person's soul; she couldn't imagine the evil it would take to sacrifice
thousands.

"How do you know?" Ryland broke in. Pariah could hear the pain in his voice. She turned to see
tears on his cheeks. "How do you know it's real? Anyone could have made that." His tone was a
plea.
 "My divination spells show the trace of infernal magic," Sylvira replied. "I've seen enough
contracts to recognize the pattern."

Ryland looked at the ground. He was shaking and Pariah thought he might collapse. "And Zariel?"
he choked out. "What you said. What we saw in the villa. Is it true? Is it her?"

Sylvira was confused by his question, but Falaster spoke up. "Many of the facts are confusing or
missing, so we don't know all of the details, but we do know the basics. I'm sorry, son, but the
angel Zariel and the devil Zariel are, in fact, the same being. How she fell, why she fell, we don't
know."

"But it doesn't make sense!" he yelled, growing increasingly upset. "She died. They saw her die.
The Hellriders saw her die in Avernus!"

"They didn't, actually," said Lythienne.

Pariah turned to her and was surprised to see a tear rolling down her cheek. Ryland insisted, "They
did! They said so. They all said so when they escaped back through the portal. She died, the
battled turned and they were forced to retreat."

Lythienne shook her head. "No," she said sadly. With an earnest look she said, "I'm sorry, Ryland. I
know you have had so many of your views of the world shattered in the last few days, but I'm
afraid I must destroy one more. The story of the Hellriders is a lie, told to cover up the shame of
what really happened in Avernus."

"No!" he said, fists clenching at his side. He took a step towards Lythienne and Pariah moved to
stand between them, reaching for the sword that wasn't at her hip. He looked past her and fumed at
Lythienne, "Why would you say that?"

She sighed heavily. "Because I'm one of the few, possibly the only one outside of the Hellriders,
who knows the true story. It was told to me by my brother, who was one of the soldiers who
followed Zariel into Avernus, and one of the handful who returned to Elturel."

Chapter End Notes

I said a few chapters back that I had to rewrite Lythienne's background and
personality. I had to give her a reason to go forward. Her backstory originally said her
brother had been studying the Shadowfell as a "teenager" (for an elf, that means about
in his 50s) and had disappeared, presumably trapped there during one of his
investigations. I decided to change the circumstances to fit this story. Although most of
the Hellriders were human, I'm assuming there was a smattering of the longer lived
races so the timeline works that her brother could have been one of them. That
provides some motivation for her to continue, plus some credibility when she tells
Ryland the story that's coming up in the next chapter. Then I had to work the timeline
to fit her husband and his death to be sure those dates made sense as well.

By the way, I've changed some of the details of the Charge of the Hellriders to match
both the Alexandrian Remix and some of my own lore. At this point I had to revise
Ryland's tale at the end of Chapter 14, but that won't affect anyone who started reading
later.
 A Tragic Tale
Chapter Summary

The group has been stunned by the revelation that Lythienne's brother was one of the
original Hellriders who served Zariel during the famous charge into Avernus.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Silence fell over the room after Lythienne's revelation. Ryland stared at her, his mouth open, and
said softly, "He was what?"

"He was one of the original Hellriders," Lythienne said. "It occurs to me that in the short time
we've known each other I haven't had occasion to tell you my family name. It's Thalaiel. My
brother was Evaelisar Thalaiel. Have you heard of him?"

Ryland seemed even more stunned than before. "Of course," he stammered. "He was at Helm's
Shieldhall during the vampire uprising. He was one of the three who held off the undead hordes
after the first breach, sacrificing themselves so the others could escape." In awe he said, "He was a
hero."

Lythienne hummed a sad tune and her hand sketched an image in the air. The illusion of an elven
man appeared before her, young and strong, auburn hair tied into a pony tail that reached past his
shoulders, green eyes squinting as he smiled at the room. "Yes, he was," she said softly.

"We were very close growing up," she continued, gazing at the image. "He was only a bit older
than I was. Our other siblings were either much older or much younger than we were. Even after
we became adults, we remained friends. We both wandered a lot but we always wrote to each other
wherever we were at the time.

"He finally settled in Elturel. He had met a woman and was thinking of starting a family. He joined
the cavalry." The image changed to the same man astride a horse, armored and wielding a sword as
he charged soundlessly in place. "He faced danger now and then, of course. He was always the
first one to fight to protect others."

The horse slowed and stopped. "And then," she said with a hint of bitterness, "Zariel came." In
front of the image of the mounted man appeared a tall woman with blonde hair, alabaster skin and
wings of ivory-colored feathers. Next to her was a gold-furred mammoth, also winged. The woman
spoke soundlessly as she raised a sword that glowed brightly. The view pulled back to reveal
dozens, hundreds, thousands of soldiers listening to her and silently cheering her words.

"You were right about that part of the story. She appeared in Idyllglen, exhorting her Zarielite
followers to follow her in an attack on the Abyss. She sent emissaries to the nearby towns and
villages and thousands of soldiers flocked to her cause, including Evaelisar. When word came of
the attacks on the villages near the Winding Water, she led the Three Armies out to meet them."
The scene shifted, showing Evaelisar and his fellow cavalry charging into a horde of gnolls, laying
about them with their swords. "And then, when the demon leading them fled through a portal, she
ordered the armies to pursue them without thinking about the consequences." The image shifted to
show a creature that looked like a gnoll, but he towered over the horde, twice the height of the
others, and his features were twisted and scarred. A portal of dark energy opened behind him and
he and his remaining forces charged through it with Zariel's army close behind. The scene faded.

"I, of course, had no idea this was happening at the time. Evaelisar wrote me afterwards. He
wanted to let me know, before the news of the battle reached me, that he had been one of the
survivors."

Lythienne fell silent as she gazed off into nothing. After a time she said, "He was different in that
letter. To someone else, it would have seemed like there was no problem. But I knew him better
than anyone, maybe even better than his wife. I knew from his words that something was wrong.

"I immediately traveled to Elturel to see him. When I arrived, he was..." She faded off. She cleared
her throat and sang again, and a new image appeared. This was the same man but, even though he
was a stranger to Pariah, she could see how much he had changed. His eyes were haunted, his face
pale, his expression bleak. Lythienne said, her voice flat, "He was broken. All of them were.
Hollow, like only half of him had come back. I saw him and.." She faded off again and wiped a
tear.

Rowan stepped forward. "Look, you don't have to tell us this now."

Lythienne shook her head. "No. This story needs to be told. It's been secret for too long." She took
a deep breath and continued.

"I stayed in Elturel for two months. His wife and his children and I did what we could to help him.
The healers from the temples worked with all of them as well. And he got better. Sort of. He
started to smile, but it was a vacant smile, like it was painted on. I told him he didn't have to
pretend with me, but he insisted he was fine."

The face of the man before them changed, looking calmer but with an emptiness to his expression.
"He returned to duty. It was important to him to get back to it, to fight the monsters. At first I was
against it, but I saw it helped. I'm not sure how, but somehow it helped him process the pain. The
guilt. I assumed it was just guilt over surviving. Thousands of them rode into Avernus; fewer than
two hundred returned. That is a heavy burden to bear." The image of his face faded.

"Eventually I left, got back to my life, but I stayed close. I didn't wander as far and I visited more
often. I wrote more. I started exchanging letters with his wife as well. We both worried about him
but we couldn't do any more than be there for him. I remember that in one letter in particular she
mentioned that she had noticed a very high rate of battle deaths among the survivors during the
first few months. They were fiercely brave to the point of foolhardiness, charging ahead even as
their commanders tried to call them back. At the time, we could think of no reason for this
behavior other than the guilt of the survivor.

"Over time, over several years, he really did get better. He was more stable, more at peace with
himself, yet something was gone. I guess it's not a surprise, but he never got back to being the man
who had ridden through that portal. It was like a scar on his mind, something that never healed
quite right. However, I was less worried than I had been before. And, though he was always brave,
he was never as reckless as some of the other survivors had been."

She grew silent again. The group waited patiently until she started speaking again. "He lived for
another ninety years. By this time most of the survivors who hadn't died in battle had died of old
age. A few elves and dwarves still lived, but the number of survivors was dwindling.

"The last letter I got from him was a long one. When it became clear that the Shieldhall couldn't be
held against the vampire lord's siege, the defenders wrote letters to loved ones that were smuggled
out before the hall fell. In this final correspondence he said he had to tell me the truth about
Avernus. He had never told anyone, and wasn't even going to tell his wife, but he had to tell
someone before he died. The burden was just too much to take into the next life."

Lythienne shook her head. "He asked me to keep the secret, and I have done so for fifty years. I
wrestled with it but I came to understand why the Hellriders had lied about the battle. I saw that, at
the time, the truth would have been devastating. But it has been long enough. The world has to
know what really happened."

She hummed a tune and another image appeared, a force of soldiers engaged with a horde of
fiends. They fought silently for a brief time and then the image died away. "No," she said. "I can't
do it justice. I can't adequately depict it. My words will have to be enough."

She folded her hands. "The Three Armies charged through the portal, led by Zariel, driven by their
own zeal, their own desire to fight the demons. Even as the waiting demon army ambushed and
surrounded them, cutting them off from the portal, they stood their ground bravely. At the time
they didn't realize it was the Nine Hells rather than the Abyss, but it wouldn't have mattered. They
weren't prepared for what they faced. They hadn't truly understood what it meant to battle the
fiends in their home territory. They had imagined a battle much like the ones they had already
fought in Idyllglen, but this was different.

"The air choked them with a stench of brimstone and death. Their food turned to sludge and their
water soured. It wasn't poison, but they could barely choke anything down. A hot wind screamed
across the land and they were occasionally hit by sandstorms so severe they could tear flesh from
bone. Between unending waves of demon attacks, they were constantly harassed by biting flies and
occasionally by more serious flying threats like bloodsucking stirges and giant wasps.

"There was no sun, no day, no night, so it was impossible to tell how long they had been there. It
was difficult to sleep. Even if they could ignore the heat and noise and stench, when they slept
they were plagued by nightmares, nightmares that preyed on each individual's personal fears. Over
time, the soldiers started to break from the stress. Paranoia, greed, hoarding of goods, and much
more of started to spread through the army. And Zariel just ignored it all. She drove them to fight,
berated them for weakening or questioning her. She warned them that their families were in danger
from this threat, that they had to stop it at any cost. She refused to launch an assault to recapture
the portal so they would have a path of retreat.

"The Three Armies had found a good defensive position in a rocky formation. They held on, fought
as best they could even as their resolve wavered, and they started to beat back the demon hordes.
Morale started to shift and it looked like they might manage to pull a victory out of this disastrous
campaign." She sighed. "And then the devils attacked. A large force came marching over a ridge
and swarmed down, attacking both demon and mortal armies."

Lythienne hung her head. In a voice they could barely make out she said, "For some of them, that
was the breaking point. They couldn't take it anymore. One of the commanders ordered a desperate
assault on the portal, even as Zariel and her generals ordered them back into formation. Driven by
desperation and fear, many of the remaining forces obeyed him. They weren't trying to secure the
portal; they were just trying to stampede through the enemy to get home. And then, when a
handful finally made it back through to our plane, the commander closed the portal so that nothing
from the Hells could follow them back through it."

She forced herself to look up and meet Ryland's horrified gaze. Defiantly, her eyes shining, she
said, "My brother was the bravest man I've ever met. But everyone has their breaking point. The
Hellriders who survived weren't retreating; they were deserting. And by closing the portal, they
betrayed their comrades, dooming them to horrible death in the Hells. And yet it was what they
had to do to stop a horde of fiends from spilling through."

She shook her head. "But that wasn't the end, not for them. They knew they couldn't tell the truth.
They'd be tried and possibly executed. Worse, Elturgard would be defenseless. They had already
lost most of their military force. If the truth got out, it would not only be devastating to the people
of the entire realm of Elturgard, but it would be a signal to anyone nearby that they were ripe for
invasion. So they made up the lie. And, even as they were haunted by the guilt of what they had
done, they were lauded as heroes. They were honored and cheered, and they had to endure it.

"And that is why so many died over the next few years. They had to prove something to
themselves, prove they weren't cowards. They charged into every battle, faced enemies fearlessly,
fought when any sane person would run, and they died and died and died, because they would
rather die bravely than live with the guilt."

Her jaw muscles twitched as she gritted her teeth. "But not all the deaths were in battle. Many took
their own lives, unable to live with what they had done. Every one of them was buried as a hero,
rightfully so, and every one of them is on record as having died in combat. Because they did. They
may have died months or years later, but they died as the result of wounds received while fighting
to preserve Elturgard from the fiends."

Lythienne fixed Ryland with a stare. "And you know who's fault it was? Zariel's. Maybe that's not
what you want to hear, but it's the truth. She used them and threw them away, even when it became
obvious they couldn't win. They were disposable. She showed them no more compassion than
you'd show an arrow that falls into the mud of a battlefield. She was so driven by her own need for
violence that she sacrificed thousands of good soldiers for nothing. I had assumed she had died
when the battle turned, and by the gods I wish she had. Instead she betrayed those soldiers and
their sacrifice by choosing to serve Asmodeus. And now she is taking the souls of thousands of
loyal Elturel citizens for her own selfish needs. That is the 'angel' you worship."

Ryland continued to stare at her in horror, his mouth working soundlessly. Finally he looked past
her at nothing. "Is it true?" he asked.

"Yes, it's true," she snapped.

He ignored her and turned to the ceiling. "Is it true? Tell me!" he demanded. "Is that what really
happened? Is that what you really did?" He looked at the floor. "But you aren't up there, are you?
You are down there. Serving him. You've been lying to me all along," he bellowed.

The group looked at each other, confused. Lythienne's anger faded as she watched him. "Ryland,"
she asked carefully. "What are you talking about?"

He turned back to her, a range of emotions playing across his face. "I'm sorry," he said in a sob.
"She said she needed my help."

"Who?" Lythienne demanded.

"Zariel," he said in shame.

"What are you saying?" asked Sylvira.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "She's been coming to me in my dreams. Since our first night on the
road. She said she had been captured and imprisoned. The machinations of the other devils were
responsible for Elturel's fall, and our actions were going to doom the city." He opened his eyes and
looked confused. "At least I think that's what she said. She spoke so strangely and..." His shoulder
slumped. "She confused me."

Suddenly a suspicion started to form in Pariah's mind. "What did you do?" she asked.

Ryland looked at her and then looked away. "I sabotaged the wagon," he said quietly. "She said I
needed to get you to turn back. When you didn't, I paid those people to destroy the wagon the
second night." Earnestly he said, "I didn't think they'd burn it. I just thought they'd smash a wheel
or something." He hung his head. "And then the third night, she said I should poison the stew. Not
enough to kill anyone, just enough to make people sick. I couldn't do that. There were so many
other people eating from that pot. It just seemed wrong. And she's been talking to me every night,
telling me to do things, telling me to stop you all. She told me that the thing in the shield wasn't
what it claimed. And she told me about you." He nodded in Pariah's direction. "And she said
Falaster was following a devil's orders." He furrowed his brow. "No, she said maybe he was.
Maybe he'd been corrupted. Sometimes people who study the Lower Planes get corrupted. But I
guess she never actually said he had been."

"Have you agreed to anything?" asked Sylvira. "Have you made any deals with her?"

He looked panicked. "No. Um, I don't think so." He thought about it. "She just asked me to do
things and I did. She never offered me anything. I didn't need anything. I was happy to serve her."

"Did you say you'd serve her? In particular, did the words 'forever' or 'soul' come into the
conversation?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Have you acquired any new objects? Did she send you anything? Or maybe you woke up and
there was an item in your bed with you?"

Ryland thought about that. "No," he said slowly.

Sylvira breathed a sigh of relief. "It sounds like you didn't actually make a contract with her. That's
good."

"Are any of us not being controlled by the devils and their actions?" demanded Farima in
exasperation.

After a moment of silence in the room, Rowan said, "I'm pretty sure I'm not."

Farima took a breath. "Forgive my outburst. It just seems like the fiends are manipulating us at
every turn."

"At least my devil is trying to help us save Elturel," Pariah said. Farima shot her a sour look. Pariah
said, "OK, that was supposed to be kind of a joke. Look, I'm not saying he's a nice guy, but if he's
working against Zariel, that's a good thing, right?"

There was an uncomfortable silence. Sylvira said, "The devils never have the welfare of mortals in
mind." She added hesitantly, "In rare cases, there can be short-term benefit to cooperating with
them, but there is always long-term misery in their plans."

Pariah opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted as biting cold flowed through her veins.
"Talona's-" she began but broke off as she gritted her teeth against the crippling chill. As she
started to fall forward, Rowan rushed forward to catch her and gently lower her to the ground.
"You are wiser than your companions," said the dark voice in her head. "It is to your benefit to
serve me. It is to the benefit of those poor lost souls as well. You can see that, but they confuse you
with their words."

"What do you want?" she grated. She could hear the others talking but their voices were muffled
and she couldn't make out what they were saying.

"To save Elturel you must travel to that doomed city. There, in the crypts of High Hall, survivors
huddle like frightened children. Find them and my power will suffuse your very form, shifting it to
suit your needs."

She struggled to breathe in the cold but she managed to stammer, "I want more."

"More," he mused. "Does greed so easily corrupt you?"

"I want to be able to read."

There was a long pause. She would swear she heard a chuckle in his voice when he replied, "You
want me to...teach you to read?"

"No. I want to be able to read everything, whether I know the language or not. And I want it now,
not later."

Her heart pounded as she waited for his reply, worried she had pushed him too far. She was
relieved when the icy voice replied, "Very well, my faithful slave. After you complete my task, I
shall graciously bestow you this favor."

She ground her teeth at the word 'slave'. "Now!" she repeated. "It won't do me any good in Elturel.
I want it now while I'm in Candlekeep." Thinking quickly she added, "But I want it to be
permanent, not just while I'm here. And in addition to the other things you promised me."

Silence greeted her, but the cold still wracked her body so she knew he was paying attention.
Finally he said, "In light of your past obedience, I will agree to this change." He added in a sterner
voice, "Do not presume this gives you freedom to negotiate with me in the future."

She felt his icy darkness depart and the world started to come back into focus around her. She
heard Rowan's distant voice say, "I think she's coming out of it."

Pariah was on all fours. Rowan was sitting on her heels next to her, her good arm around Pariah's
shoulders. Sylvira was sitting in front of her, staring at her intently. She had smeared some kind of
dark red ointment around her eyes. "Yes, his presence is departing," she said abstractedly. Her
brow furrowed. "What's going on there?" she asked, pointing at Pariah's left shoulder. "Something
around your shoulder blade."

Pariah was confused by her question, still disoriented by her conversation with the archdevil, but
focused her attention on her back. She could concentrate on the script on her body even when she
couldn't see it. "The writing is changing," she said. "The new things we agreed to are being added."
She was suddenly aware there were changes in other places as well from old deals struck. She
hadn't paid much attention, but it made sense now that she thought about it that the contract would
change as they agreed to new terms.

"Amazing," Sylvira said, still staring at her shoulder. Her fingers were twitching and Pariah
suspected she was resisting the urge to reach out and tear her shirt open to see the changes.

Pariah climbed to her feet, Rowan steadying her. She looked around the room until she saw one of
the bookcases. Pulling away from Rowan she walked over to it and looked at the books. The
symbols on their spines made sense now. In letters she recognized as Common, one book was
titled, "The Final Prophecies of Aoldok". She pulled it down and opened it to a random page and
read, "She will bear four sons, and the third son will have a mark on his shoulder in the shape of a
crescent moon." An unexpected laugh spilled from her lips as she closed the book and put it down
on a nearby table.

Elvish characters on the spine of another book read, "Lesser Yugoloths of Chamada". She opened
this one and, despite the fact her knowledge of Elvish consisted of only a few words, she could
easily read, "Tugrabek ordered his tongue and eyes be cut out. He was banished from Nimicri to
wander the surface for the next 37 years."

She put that book down and grabbed and opened another one. She didn't recognize the alphabet,
but that didn't stop her from being able to read, "Iron filings can be used, but the properties of
dwarven steel strengthen the circle's magic and allow the binding of more powerful demons."

"Pariah, are you all right?" Rowan asked in concern.

Pariah looked up at her, her face split in a maniacal grin. "I can read it," she giggled. "I can read all
of it."

"That's great," Rowan said, "but are you all right?"

Pariah was surprised at the question. She looked at the rest of them and they were all staring at her.
Her companions showed the usual expressions they wore after one of her encounters with Levistus.
As for the others, Ryland looked horrified, Sylvira fascinated, and Falaster showed hints of both.

Pariah realized she was being a little wild. She forced herself to put the book down and wipe the
grin from her face. "Yes. Sorry. It's just so new."

"What did he say?" Rowan asked.

Pariah pulled herself back to the situation. She said, "We need to find the survivors in the crypts of
the High Hall. In Elturel. He didn't say why, but he did say it has something to do with saving the
city."

Rowan and Lythienne exchanged a glance. Farima's expression turned resolute and she said to
Sylvira, "Would you know how we could reach that city?"

Ignoring the question, Sylvira said to Pariah, "Wait, wait. Explain to me more about Levistus
wanting to save Elturel."

Pariah shrugged. "I don't know what he wants. He claims that if I do what he says, it will save the
city." She furrowed her brow. "Or at least he hints that it will. Or it might."

"Presumably he wants to undermine Zariel's plans," Falaster said. "Deny her thousands of souls."

"Possibly to take them for himself," Sylvira mused.

"The shield," Farima said suddenly. When the others turned to her in confusion, she explained,
"The shield also wanted to go to Elturel. We have come to the conclusion that the entity in the
shield may be a devil." She frowned. "Could it be another scheme of this archdevil? Trying to get
us to go to Avernus?"

Sylvira turned to the shield as though she had forgotten it was there. She studied it for a time, and
then said, "Shield, would you speak with me?" After a moment she said, "What is your name?...No,
your real name...Then who do you serve?" She sighed and turned to the group. "This is going to
take a while. He's being evasive. I have experience talking to infernals and it's rather a complicated
process. Details matter. Wording matters. The analysis is convoluted. It may take me a day or two
to get any useful information out of him."

"What do we do to save Elturel?" Ryland demanded of her.

She shook her head. "I don't know."

"My conversations with Kreeg were less than illuminating," Falaster said, "as were my
examinations of Duke Vanthampur's possessions."

"Let me do some research," said Sylvira. "On Zariel specifically and her past contracts, though
since she's a relatively new devil there isn't as much to go on as some of the others. I can also
review the information Falaster has brought and see if I have any additional insight on either
Kreeg's or the duke's agreements with her." She rubbed her face tiredly. "Again, it's likely to take a
few days."

"Is there anything the rest of us can do?" Rowan asked.

Sylvira thought about that. "Nothing that comes to mind at the moment, but I'll send a message if I
think you can help. In the meantime, avail yourself of the library or other services of the keep." She
turned to Pariah. "I would still like some time with you, to examine your contract in detail and to
interview you about your experience with Levistus so far. Would you be willing to stay after the
others leave?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Pariah said, a little disappointed. She had hoped to head to the library and make
immediate use of her new skill. Then she realized that she was surrounded by books so she might
have a chance to look at them while Sylvira was doing whatever she was going to do.

"I will stay as well," said Farima.

Pariah pursed her lips. "Can you even read Infernal?" she asked.

"No," said Farima, confused by the question.

"Then it isn't going to prove anything for you to stand here while she's looking me over, is it?
Look, you can read the whole thing when she's done. "

Farima said emphatically, "I would like to stay."

She obviously wasn't going to change her mind so Pariah sighed, "Fine."

"All right, then," said Sylvira, rubbing her hands together. "Then why don't you all go about your
business and I can get to work." Her attitude made it clear the meeting was over.

Falaster got the hint and walked over to open the door. "Come along," he said cheerfully. "I can
take you back to the entrance or get you access to the library if you like."

The others started moving towards the door. Sylvira reached out to touch Lythienne's arm as she
passed. "Did you, by chance, happen to keep the letter your brother wrote you?"

Lythienne paused and then said, "Yes, I did. I thought it might be important."
 "Would you, and I know this is a great imposition on your privacy, but would you consider
donating it to the library?"

Lythienne looked over Sylvira's shoulder while she thought about it. She took a deep breath and
said, "I don't know. I respect its value as a historical document, but I'm not sure I'm ready to give it
to the world." She looked back at Sylvira. "I'm sorry, but I haven't decided yet."

Sylvira looked disappointed but said, "I understand. I hope you know it would be treated with the
utmost respect. And, considering the political implications, it would not be available for general
public view. It's likely only a handful of people would be allowed access to it."

Lythienne gave her a faint smile. "I appreciate that. I will consider it and give you an answer before
we leave."

As they exited, Pariah heard Rowan ask Falaster, "Are there any artisans here who might be able to
fashion a prosthetic arm?" before the door closed, leaving her alone with Farima, Sylvira and
Jezebel.

"Now," said Sylvira excitedly, "take off your clothes."

Chapter End Notes

According to canon, the High Rider, the leader of the city in the days before the
Companion, became a vampire. He converted many people throughout the city and
then launched a coup against the city's leaders. When all seemed lost, the Companion
appeared and its holy light destroyed the undead. At the time it was assumed to be a
divine gift.

The battle at Helm's Shieldhall is my own addition to this story. A number of

Hellriders retreated to this fortress-like temple of Helm and held it against the undead.
They were eventually overrun, though some managed to escape in part due to heroes
like Evaelisar.

This story also tries to incorporate the amazing amount of lore about Zariel's history
that Justin Alexander has put into his remix. I don't follow his version of the Charge of
the Hellriders 100% because some of his lore doesn't fit mine, but I've done the best I
can without creating too many plot holes.

This chapter finally ends a story arc that came out of an offhand comment. Other than
the scripted attack by the cambion, the trip to Candlekeep was originally going to be
"Five days later they arrived at..." However, at the end of Chapter 14, Ryland told the
Tale of the Hellriders. Since he was pretty upset with how the group has been
badmouthing Zariel, I added a comment at the end about him swearing loyalty to her.
It wasn't meant to be anything more than a throwaway line, the dramatic
pronouncement of a teenager.

Later I got to thinking...would she hear that? Would that draw her attention to these
people and their plans? Would it benefit her to start worming her way into his mind
and make him an ally?
So I had to add three chapters of events and intrigue, and think about how he and they
would react to all of this. It was fun, and it goes to show that outlines are great, but
sometimes the characters have their own ideas about how the story is going to go.

Pariah's reading ability is the warlock invocation Eyes of the Rune Keeper.
Technically she shouldn't get it until she levels again later in the story, but it makes
more sense for her to get it now and it's not like it's an unbalancing ability to get a
level early.
 A Detailed Examination
Chapter Summary

Pariah has agreed to allow Sylvira to examine the infernal contract written on her
body.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah slipped her shirt over her head to finish dressing before walking through the illusion wall to
join Sylvira and Farima. Sylvira had summoned the wall as a compromise. It gave her some
privacy from Farima during the examination, while allowing the latter to listen to anything that
was said.

The examination had been humiliating. The writing covered every bit of skin from her collarbone
down, and Sylvira had been forced to get rather personal in her examinations to be sure she got
every word. She had been distracted by her focus on the work and, as a result, hadn't been very
sensitive during the inspection. Pariah had almost called a halt to it, but recognized that this was
important so she had clenched her teeth and tolerated it.

Farima stood impatiently as Sylvira pored over the document she had just created. "What does it
say?" the Calishite demanded. Pariah glanced over Sylvira's shoulder and saw the text was in
Infernal, so Farima wouldn't be able to read it herself.

Sylvira didn't seem to notice Farima's tone. "It's complex," she said distractedly. "More so than
most of the contracts I've seen, and further complicated by the changes that have occurred over the
life of the agreement." She made a thoughtful "hmm" sound and then said, "But at its core, it's
pretty straightforward. The subject is awarded certain magics and abilities in return for the sacrifice
of the two souls mentioned, and the-"

"Two souls!" Farima said, shooting Pariah a poisonous look. "You took another soul?"

"No," Pariah began.

"You said you'd be honest," Farima said accusingly. "I've tolerated this situation because I've tried
to believe that you are trying to do good, but to sacrifice another soul in the name of this evil is
reprehensible. I cannot continue-"

"It's my soul!" Pariah snapped, cutting Farima off. "My soul is the second soul."

Farima was silent, staring at her as she processed this new information. "What?" she said.

"He gets my soul when I die," Pariah said reluctantly. "That was part of the deal. After I die, my
soul goes to him and I serve him for eternity." She added, "I didn't mention it because it doesn't
matter. It has nothing to do with what's happening now."

Farima's mouth move soundlessly and then she said, "But...why? Why would you do that?"

"Because that was the price. To save my friends. That's what he wanted. Me and the priest."
"But why?" Farima asked again, struggling to understand. "Did he trick you?"

Pariah shook her head. "No, I understood everything. It's not just what's in the contract. He sent
me...I don't know...like pictures, like memories. I understood the whole thing, what I was giving
up, what I was getting." She snorted. "If he wants something as worthless as my soul for something
as important as saving them, then I got off cheap."

"But eternity. Forever, stuck in the Nine Hells. That's a terrible price to pay."

Pariah snorted. "Try living in the Outer City. I already know misery and pain. How much worse
could the Nine Hells be?"

Farima continued to stare at her in disbelief. "Worse," she said. "Much worse. And don't say your
soul is worthless. It's not. It's..." She broke off and breathed out a sigh. She turned to Sylvira and
said, "Can these contracts be broken?"

Sylvira had been watching the exchange silently. She folded her arms and said, "Rarely. There are
some cases of mortals who have managed to find loopholes, but those histories are hard to find. My
theory is that the infernals suppress any information about those events so future generations can't
use them." She paused, "And most of those are contracts with lower fiends. Contracts with
archdevils or demon lords are very, very hard to break. I will examine the document more closely,
but I am skeptical that there will be an easy out."

She cocked her head and said, "There is one possibility, though I don't hold out much hope for that
either. Destroying a contract voids the agreement. However, the contracts are notoriously hard to
damage. You can't just thrown them in a fire or tear them up." She hesitated and said, "Your
contract is written on your skin. I imagine that, even when you are injured, the writing is not
harmed, yes?"

Pariah thought for a moment. "I'm not sure," she said. "I've never looked."

"I'm certain that is the case." She paused again. "I mean I do have an idea but it's
rather...disturbing. You may not want to hear this."

Pariah was puzzled. "No, go ahead," she said.

"There have been cases of contracts written in skin on a living creature, though the words are
usually carved into the flesh rather than printed on it. In all the cases I've seen, the creature is a
third party, a damned soul that will be locked away to protect the contract. Such a contract could be
destroyed, but only by destroying the body it's written on. In your case, something like that would
kill you before the contract was fully annihilated, and you'd be sent to the Hells anyhow." She
pursed her lips. "I do, possibly, have another idea."

"Oh?" asked Pariah, starting to regret encouraging Sylvira to voice her thoughts.

"Your skin could be flayed off your body with a magical blade. It would have to be removed in a
single piece, since anything left behind would regenerate the contract. Then the skin could be
destroyed in a number of magical ways. I'm reasonably sure that would break the contract, though
it would be a very unpleasant process to endure and to heal from."

Pariah felt her flesh crawling at the image in her head. "Reasonably sure?" she asked.

Sylvira looked uncomfortable. "Infernal contracts are difficult to predict. Even after centuries of
study, we don't know all of the rules that govern them. Although I believe such a procedure would
work, I can't guarantee that it would."
"And my friends? Does that mean they'd die when the contract was broken?"

"No," said Sylvira, perking up. "That's a bit of good news. What I started to say before was that the
contract is based on the two souls, but each soul is tied to different rewards. The priest's soul was
tied to your friends. That deal is done. Destroying the contract won't kill your friends, nor will it
restore the priest's soul.

"As for the other, your soul is tied to your power. That deal is completed when you die and your
soul goes to Levistus. However, if the contract is broken before then, your soul will be saved but
you will lose any powers, abilities or other gifts he has granted you."

"As long as I get my skin ripped off," Pariah said.

"Well, yes, unless we can find some other way of voiding the contract." She studied Pariah for a
moment. "Did you want to attempt that method?"

"No," Pariah said emphatically. "Well, not now anyhow. If we still have a chance to save Elturel, I
might need my magic. Farima, are you still willing to go to Avernus if it means saving Elturel?"

"We don't know that it will," Farima cautioned. "Our sources are somewhat unreliable."

"Yeah, but if we can find a way to save the city?"

"Then, yes, I will go to Elturel."

"Good." She sighed. "I think Rowan and Lythienne probably won't come with us, though. Makes
sense. What kind of a nut would go to the Nine Hells on purpose?" She meant the comment as a
joke, but it came out in a bleak tone.

Pariah turned to Sylvira and said, "What about you? You obviously have some powerful magic,
plus a knowledge of the Lower Planes that could be useful to us."

Sylvira's eyes widened. "Not a chance," she said emphatically. "Look, I'm sorry for the people of
Elturel, but that knowledge you speak of is exactly why I won't go. I know what to expect. I'm a
scholar, not a warrior. When it comes to infernal studies, I prefer the laboratory to the field."

Pariah was disappointed. "All right, but do you know of others? I mean the world is full of
powerful people. Surely some of them want to help save a city."

Sylvira hemmed and hawed. "The thing about those people is they are in demand and difficult to
reach. At any given time, there are many crises happening in the world. And, to be blunt, they
didn't become powerful by gambling their lives on ventures with low chances of success. It will be
difficult to find anyone willing to take this risk. Even if I find those who would be willing to help,
it could be months before they are available."

Pariah turned to Farima. "I'm not sure I want to wait months. Even if Elturel itself is safe for that
long, its probably awful for the people there."

"I agree," Farima said. She added, "I'm unsure if we can count on Ryland. Although I am certain
his commitment to the city is strong, he has faced many difficult revelations of late. He may not be
emotionally ready."

"We might try asking around here. Some powerful people probably visit the place." Pariah looked
thoughtful. "I wonder if Little One has completely given up his violent ways."
Farima looked confused. "Who?"

Pariah remembered that she hadn't been at The Hearth during that conversation, nor had the ogre
been present when the group had dined there since. "Long story. An ogre who got some magic item
that made him smart, and he's a good guy now. Me and Lythienne met him in The Hearth." Farima
looked even more confused.

"I'll still put out some feelers to my own contacts," said Sylvira. "See if I can scare anyone up."

"We are on day two of our ten day stay," Pariah said. "I think we should go when the tenday is
up."

Farima nodded. "Unless we get word that someone is coming to join us, I agree."

"That assumes we can find a way to save the city," observed Sylvira.

"No!" said Farima sharply.

"Excuse me?" asked Sylvira.

Farima shook her head. "Not you." She pointed to the shield. "Him. He says if we take him to
Avernus, he can assist us. I see no reason to take his help."

Sylvira looked thoughtful. "A guide to Avernus could be useful," she said, almost to herself.

"No," said Farima again.

Sylvira shook her head. "No, not him. I mean I might have an idea about a guide." She looked
frustrated. "Let me add that to my list of things I need to get done in the next few days. I might
know of someone who is familiar with the plane. I don't want to say more until I've talked to her."

"Jezebel?" Pariah guessed.

"No," Sylvira said with a little laugh. "First, she's a demon, not a devil. She wouldn't know
Avernus any more than you would. Second, she's my familiar so needs to stay close to me. But I
may know of someone." She turned to Farima and said, "Someone you would approve of."

Farima looked puzzled. "That's a mysterious statement."

"I suppose it is," she said playfully. Changing the subject she said to Pariah, "But for now, I think
we should finish your interview. I would like to know everything you can tell me about your
interactions with Levistus." She turned to the quasit. "Jezebel, go find Falaster and bring him back
here. Quickly!"

"Come, go, fetch," the fiend grumbled as it scurried towards the door that Sylvira was opening.
"Boring. No fun."

"Let's get started," said Sylvira as she closed the door behind Jezebel.

Pariah gave a silent nod to the monk who had guided them through the keep, and then walked
through the Emerald Door back out to the courtyard outside. She inhaled the evening air deeply
and let it out. "I would never have imagined that just talking could be so tiring."

"The woman is thorough," Farima replied, approval in her voice. "She does seem to know her
subject quite well. I am cautiously optimistic that she will be able to figure out some way for us to
unravel this situation and save the people of Elturel."

They walked across the courtyard in silence, headed for The Hearth. They hadn't stopped for lunch
and Pariah was famished. She assumed Farima was as well. She was lost in thought and slowed to
a stop as they neared the entrance. It was evening and, from the sound coming out the door, the
place was quite busy.

Farima took a few steps before realizing her companion had stopped walking. She turned.
"Pariah?" she asked.

Pariah was looking at the building before her without seeing it. "What if she can't?" she asked.

"Who? Can't what?" asked Farima in confusion.

"Sylvira. What if she can't figure out how to save Elturel?"

Farima paused. "I do not know. We can only hope that she can find a solution."

"But what if she can't?" she asked again. She met Farima's eyes. "He said we can save the city if
we do what he says."

Farima's face grew dark as she realized who Pariah was talking about. "He does not care for the
people in Elturel. We have no reason to trust him."

"True, but don't the devils work against each other? Maybe he just wants to mess up what Zariel is
doing."

"Or he might be tricking us into transferring the souls to him instead." Pariah could hear her voice
hardening.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But we go along like we have been. We listen to him, we follow his path,
but we make the decisions. I mean look at what Zariel did with Ryland. Sure, she got him to make
some mistakes, but he hit his limit and he stopped. If Levistus tells us to pull some magic bullshit
that he claims will save the city, I'm not going to believe him. But he's not saying that. He's just
saying we need to go to the city, and it makes sense that, if it can be saved, it has to be saved from
there. Right?"

Farima looked unsatisfied. "The devils trick mortals. They misdirect and confuse. I've never been
comfortable following his path."

"Believe it or not, neither have I," Pariah assured her. Farima gave her a skeptical look. "I mean it,"
Pariah said. "So far it's worked out, but I'm always worried that we are somehow making things
worse. But I don't see any other way. I look back and I don't regret the things we've done. We saved
people in the sewers and in the villa. We stopped the cults, and that's going to keep some people
from getting killed. We've done some good."

"Yes," Farima said grudgingly.

"I'm not saying we should trust him to save Elturel. I'm saying we should trust him to screw over
Zariel, because that seems to be his game."

Farima frowned. "What is your point?"

"My point," Pariah said, taking a breath, "is that if Sylvira can't find a way to save Elturel, I still
want to go there. Maybe I'm an idiot. Maybe I'm just playing into his hands, but I have to take that
chance if it means we can save them. I just want to know if you would consider going with me."

Farima chewed on that thought for a while. "I...am unsure," she admitted. "It is a lot to risk for no
certainty of success."

"I know," Pariah said. "I'm just saying think about it."

Farima continued to study her. "I do not understand why you would be willing to make such a
sacrifice for a city of strangers."

Pariah was a little offended that the answer was not obvious to her. "I've said it before. They need
help, and I'm in a position to help. Besides, I'm not really sacrificing much. I don't have much here,
and I guess I'm ending up there in the long run anyhow."

That last thought seemed to trouble the other woman. Hesitantly she said, "Do you plan to tell the
others that other detail about your contract?"

Her tone was not accusing, just curious. Pariah hadn't thought about what she was going to do.
After a moment she said, "I'm not sure. It really wasn't supposed to be a secret. I just didn't think it
was important."

"Of course it's important," Farima said in irritation. "You constantly undervalue your life and your
worth. Your soul may have tarnish, but it is not evil. You certainly do not deserve an eternity of
suffering. We must find a way to break your contract as well."

Pariah couldn't help but bark a laugh. "Oh, so now we are going to break contracts with two
archdevils. What will we do with the rest of the tenday?"

Farima looked annoyed for a moment, and then her expression softened. With a hint of humor she
said, "Well, if we have a day or two to spare, perhaps we should resolve the Blood War." Pariah
laughed again and the two women headed into The Hearth.

The place was packed, as it tended to be at mealtimes. She spotted Rowan at a table engaged in
conversation with the two humans sitting across from her: a pudgy man and a woman with white
hair pulled back in a ponytail. Lythienne was standing in a corner with a pale, blonde high elf
woman. The women were leaning in to each other, partially to be heard over the din, but Pariah
also detected a flirtiness to their body language. She was disappointed to see that Little One's
massive chair was empty and he was nowhere to be seen. She also didn't see Ryland in the crowd.

"I'll fetch us some stew," Farima said, raising her voice a bit. "Why don't you get drinks. Water for
me."

Pariah thought about it. "No stew for me," she said. "I think I'll order food at the bar."

Farima nodded and headed towards the communal pot. Pariah headed to the bar and caught the
attention of the man behind it. "One ale and one water," she said. She started to ask what was on
the menu but realized she could read the board behind him. She felt herself grinning as she scanned
down the selections. "And a plate of mutton and carrots," she added.

"Five silvers," he said as he grabbed a mug and turned to fill it from the barrel behind him. She put
the coins on the bar, waited for the ale and water, and then turned to the rest of the room. She
made her way over to Rowan's table where Farima had taken a seat next to her, and the two
humans were already scooting over to make room for Pariah.

She set down the drinks and squeezed in on the end of the bench. The benches could fit two
comfortably but three in a pinch. "And this is Pariah," Rowan said. "These are Rolf from
Waterdeep and Eva from Amn."

Pariah and the strangers exchanged greetings. "So how was it?" Rowan asked. Her face was
flushed and her eyes were a little unfocused. Pariah gathered she'd been drinking for a while
already. There was also an air of gloom around her.

Pariah blew out a breath. "Long," she said. "And detailed." She didn't want to say much in front of
the strangers, so settled for raising her mug in a toast and saying, "But here's hoping she found out
something that can help us." She took a drink. After she lowered her cup she said, "What about
you? I heard you asking about your arm."

Rowan brightened a bit. "Falaster took me to an artificer." She glanced down at the stump of her
left arm. "He said he can make a prosthetic that will use both mechanics and magic. A good one
would take a month, but he says he can fashion a passable item in the tenday we are here. It will
move and everything."

"Amazing," Pariah said. "That's wonderful." Rowan gave her a distracted smile but then sunk into
her misery again.

"Um, so, um, what brings you to, um, Candlekeep?" the man asked Pariah, struggling with his
speech.

She thought about the question and then said, "I'm hoping to do some research related to the
disappearance of Elturel."

"Oh, um, yes," he said. "That, um, was so terrible. Are you, um, from there?"

She shook her head. "Baldur's Gate."

"I see, um, so what, um, are you hoping to find out?"

"I'm not sure. I suppose just trying to figure out what happened and if anything can be done about
it." It was a subject she didn't want to pursue so she quickly added, "What about you? What are you
here for?"

A smile spread across his face and he regaled her with a long tale, punctuated by many "ums", of
Undermountain, some kind of multi-level complex below the city of Waterdeep. During his tale,
her food came: a wooden plate with a slab of steaming mutton, a pile of sliced and overcooked
carrots, and a hard-crusted roll.

She listened to his story with interest at first. She had heard rumors of Undermountain, and
occasionally some impoverished member of the Outer City would swear he was going to go to
Undermountain and get rich. Of course, none of them ever did, and the following week the story
would be replaced with some other "get rich" pipe dream. Rolf was apparently interested
specifically in the dwarves who used to inhabit the complex before some wizard kicked them out,
or something like that. Unfortunately, he was a poor speaker and Pariah found his rambling
narrative hard to follow.

After he was finished, Eva explained that she was there to study the geology of West Faerûn,
though she was somewhat cryptic about her reason why. She had that same "get rich" gleam in her
eye that the dreamers who spoke of the Undermountain had, so Pariah assumed it was some
scheme to find gold or gems or some other rare resource.

Pariah asked them both a bit about their backgrounds to see if they were adventurers, but Rolf was
 a scholar and Eva was a merchant.

Lythienne eventually wandered towards the door to the courtyard with the elven woman, smiling a
greeting at the others as she passed their table. Not much later, the exhaustion of the day hit Pariah,
along with the effect of a full belly and a pint of ale. "I think I'm going to turn in early," she said as
she slid off the bench and stood.

The others said their good nights to her, Rowan's speech noticeably slurred by this point. Pariah
hesitated, sensing a sadness about the woman, but was too tired to deal with it at the moment. She
headed towards her room and the beckoning of the narrow bunk bed.

Chapter End Notes

One common complaint I read about any of the D&D modules is "Why aren't the
high-level NPCs handling it rather than these low-level nobodies?" I tried to address
that, and I think what Sylvira said is probably a realistic view. A world with powerful
heroes also has terrible catastrophes, and those heroes are going to be pretty busy.
Sometimes the best you can do is whoever happens to be in the area.

Recently, aaron_mag recommended this fic on his wonderful Out of the Abyss fic. I've
been thoroughly enjoying his work, but more importantly he's a big part of why I even
started posting this story. I was writing it at the time but hadn't started posting. I was
getting a bit demoralized because the story wasn't coming along as I wanted (ugh,
Dungeon of the Dead Three) and I was seriously considering abandoning the project. I
idly commented on his fic that I was working on an Avernus story and he said he was
looking forward to reading it. That small bit of interest really lit a fire under me,
reignited my enthusiasm and I got back to writing. After getting past that terribly
boring dungeon, it's been pretty smooth sailing.
 A Sudden Tantrum
Chapter Summary

Pariah uses her newfound reading ability to study in the largest library in the world,
hoping to glean information that will help them to save Elturel.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The monk stopped at Sylvira's lab and gestured towards the door. He was silent as they all were,
but Pariah felt it was a heavier silence, weighed down with judgment. She told herself she was
probably imagining that, and she followed the others in the group through the door.

Inside, Sylvira was walking back and forth, her fists clenched at her sides. Falaster was nowhere to
be seen, and Jezebel was crouched on top of one of the bookshelves, cautiously watching the
pacing tiefling. As the group came in, Lythienne said, "Good morning."

Sylvira didn't answer, just glared at them and continued pacing. The five of them exchanged
confused glances. Well, four of them were confused. Pariah had a sneaking suspicion she knew
what this sudden summons was about, suspicions that were confirmed as Sylvira stopped pacing in
front of her. Glaring down at Pariah from her few inches of additional height, Sylvira said slowly
through gritted teeth, "You...threw...a book?"

Farima gasped loudly and Rowan said in horror, "You did what?"

Pariah felt herself blushing as she looked at the rest of the group. She hadn't told them what had
happened the previous day, their third full day in the keep. She had been spending all the time she
could in one of the reading rooms trying to absorb as much knowledge of the fiends and their
contracts as she could. When her study session had been called short after the incident, she had told
the others it had been because she had been tired and needed a break.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said in embarrassment. "I just got mad. None of it made sense. I know it was
stupid. I'll pay for any damage I did."

Sylvira laughed sharply. "Pay for it, she says. Do you have any idea how much some of these
books cost? A damaged book that has to be recopied could cost thousands of gold in time and
effort."

Pariah was stunned. "Thousands?" she asked as her stomach dropped.

"And that assumes the text can be recovered. If the text is actually obscured or erased in some way,
punishments range from cutting off hands to blinding to immolation!"

Pariah was confused. "Immo...mo...what?"

Sylvira's eyes narrowed. "Death by burning," she grated.

"Over a book?" Pariah asked, her nervousness turning into fear. "That's crazy. It's just a book."
"Just a book?" The comment seemed to make Sylvira even angrier. "These are some of the rarest
and most valuable volumes in the world. Many of them are worth far more than the lives of
everyone in this room. None of them are just a book." Her tone was dripping with contempt.

"I'm sorry," Pariah said weakly.

Sylvira took a breath and visibly tried to calm herself. "Luckily," she said, "you only scratched the
cover a bit. The damage is cosmetic." Pariah breathed a sigh of relief, and then Sylvira said,
"However, you have been banned from access to any books in the Great Library."

"What? For how long?"

"Permanently."

"That's not fair!" she said.

"It is eminently fair!" Sylvira bellowed at her. "It's the very definition of fair! Being at Candlekeep
is a tremendous privilege, a privilege you abused." Addressing the group, she said, "You should all
consider yourself lucky. The Avowed wanted to banish all of you from the keep. Only by calling in
many favors was I able to convince them to let you stay. The rest of you will still be allowed
access to the reading rooms and limited access to the areas beyond the Emerald Door, but you are
being watched very closely." To Pariah she said, "You, however, are not allowed anywhere but the
areas around the Court of Air and escorted visits to my laboratory. If you do anything that the
Avowed do not like, you will be exiled from the keep grounds."

Pariah felt overwhelming despair. This incredible gift she had negotiated for was now worthless.
She knew it was foolish to think she could solve either her own situation or the problem of Elturel
in a few days of study, but she had genuinely hoped she would be able to find something in the
library that would be of help.

Lythienne asked Pariah gently, "What happened?"

Pariah felt shame again. At the very moment of her tantrum, she had instantly regretted it. She
hadn't even realized she was going to do something until the book was already sailing across the
room to smash into the wall and fall to the tiled floor. Palpable disdain, and the barest hint of
threat, had dripped from the monk in the study room as he had coldly informed her that she was to
leave the tower immediately.

"It didn't make sense," she mumbled. "None of it made sense."

"Did he take the power back?" asked Rowan.

Pariah shook her head. "No. I could read the words but they didn't make sense. I mean they made
sense, but they didn't...make sense." In frustration, she said, "Gods, I don't know how to explain it."

She put her palms on the side of her head, her fingers wrapped around her horns, trying to hold the
thoughts in. Even now she felt the confusion tearing into her mind. "I mean, I'd read the words.
Even if they weren't in Common, they translated to Common in my head. Except that doesn't mean
I understood them." To Sylvira, she said, "Like that word you just said. Immo-something."

"Immolation," Sylvira said frostily.

"Yeah. I mean I guess that's Common, but I don't know what it means. I've never heard it. That's
what it was like. I can read the words but that doesn't mean I understand them."
She lowered her hands. "And it's more. Some of the books they are...well...it's like coming into the
middle of a story. You don't know what happened, or who anyone is, or why this guy is mad at that
guy, and it makes it hard to follow the plot. Some books need other books, but those books need
other books, and none of it makes sense unless you know all the other books."

She shook her head. "And even when I understood, I'd forget. I'd read a page, but then I'd read
another page and I'd have to go back to the first one to remember what it said." She snorted. "And I
only asked to be able to read. I still can't write, so I can't make notes about what I find." Her
frustration swelled and her voice grew louder. "I can read but I'm still just Outer City filth, too
stupid to understand anything."

To her surprise, it was Farima who commented. "You are not stupid," she chided gently. "You are
just ignorant."

Pariah looked at her and said scornfully, "Sounds like a fancy word for 'stupid'."

Farima gave her a tiny smile. "It's not," she said in a kind tone. "Studying is a skill like any other.
You have to learn how to learn."

Pariah made a frustrated noise. "That's the kind of talking in circles the books do!"

"I do not mean to be confusing. It is like..." Farima thought for a bit. "It's like a sword. You could
hand me the rapier you use, and I could swing it about and stab people with it, but I wouldn't be
any good with it. I would need to learn, just as you did. In the time we have been together even I,
with no martial skill, can see you have become better with your blade, more skilled, more sure. So
this request of yours, it is like you asked for access to an armory full of weapons but don't know
how to use any of them. That does not make the armory worthless. It just means you have to learn
how to use those weapons."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" she asked, frustration making her tone sharp.

"I could teach you."

Pariah looked at her suspiciously. "Why?"

Farima looked surprised at the question. "I enjoy teaching. I am always glad to help others to learn,
especially to give them the tools to learn on their own." She studied Pariah thoughtfully. "You
could have asked him for anything: for riches, for power, for land, for adoration. The fates of
empires have hung on negotiations with archdevils. And yet you asked him for knowledge. Not
just knowledge, but a tool to give you access to everything known. That is a tremendously smart
thing for anyone to do."

Pariah was skeptical of her offer. Farima continued, "I can teach you how to analyze the things you
read, how to see more than just the words. I can not only teach you how to write, but how to outline
and organize the information so it is easier to remember."

Pariah considered her words and said, "Well, it doesn't really help now if I can't get access to the
library."

Farima frowned, but not at Pariah. She turned to Sylvira. "Is there any way to get her privileges
restored? If I accompany her at all times and take responsibility for her actions?"

"Yeah," said Rowan. "We all would vouch for her." Lythienne nodded. Ryland was, as usual,
silent.
"No," said Sylvira sternly. Then, in a slightly softer tone, she said, "However there are books other
than those in the Great Library. Smaller, less scholarly tomes are sold to visitors and to the nearby
cities. And those might be...more appropriate to her level of understanding."

"Meaning?" Pariah asked, her temper flaring.

"Meaning," Sylvira said firmly, "appropriate to someone in the early stages of learning." She
added, "They aren't children's books. They are valuable references, but they are aimed at a more
general audience. They would provide good foundation for later study."

"That seems like an appropriate choice," said Farima to Pariah.

"You are becoming quite the scholar," Rowan observed. "Learning Elvish, learning to write,
reading about infernals."

Pariah shrugged, embarrassed. "I guess," she mumbled. "I still feel stupid."

"That's one of the ironic aspects of education," said Lythienne. "You don't realize how much there
is out there until you start to learn about it. The more you learn, the less you know."

"Well, I already don't know an awful lot," said Pariah, "so I'm halfway there."

The women shared a polite chuckle, other than Sylvira who was clearly still angry. The moment
was interrupted when Ryland asked loudly, "What about Elturel? What have you learned?"

It took Sylvira a moment to change her focus to a new subject. "Unfortunately, I don't have any
news yet."

"You don't know any way to stop her?" he asked sharply.

Sylvira raised her eyebrows at his outburst. "I know several ways to stop her," she said with a hint
of irritation. "None of them practical options."

"Ryland," Lythienne chided gently, touching his arm.

He grimaced. "Sorry," he muttered. More calmly he asked, "What are the ways to stop her?"

"Killing her would void all of her contracts," Sylvira said dryly. "Killing an archdevil, however, is
a distinctly non-trivial undertaking. According to my understanding of the current state of the
Blood War, an army of demons is trying to do exactly that right now."

"Couldn't we get their help?" he asked.

Her eyebrows inched even higher. "Get their help? Demons?" she asked incredulously. "Dealing
with devils is one thing. People occasionally survive the negotiations. Demons, however, are the
embodiment of destruction and chaos. Negotiating with demons is rather like negotiating with an
avalanche as it carries you down the side of a mountain. And, in the end, they'll just kill you
anyhow."

"I don't care," he said. "As long as we can save the city."

"Be careful," she cautioned him. "Let me remind you that impulsive words already drew the
attention of Zariel to you. Don't let that impulse draw you into a dangerous deal that isn't going to
go the way you expect."

Ryland looked away and didn't reply. She continued, "And remember that this all started when
Zariel, one of the angels, took the battle to Avernus and was overwhelmed. Zariel is not alone. She
has her own army of devils." She sighed. "And the reason the celestials won't get involved in
situations like this is because of the Blood War. The fact is, the Blood War keeps the demons in
check. Killing Zariel could tilt the war in favor of the demons. If they managed to overwhelm the
Nine Hells, then nothing would stop them from annihilating the rest of the planes, including this
one. Many of the good-aligned creatures would feel the same."

"So they would stand by and sacrifice an entire city," he said in disgust.

"To save all the planes, yes," she replied matter-of-factly. Before he could say anything, she
continued. "So killing Zariel isn't a realistic option. Another choice is to destroy the contract."

"Then let's do that," Ryland said. "We have the contract. Can't we just melt it down or something?"

She shook her head. "No. We have a copy of the contract. The original is in Zariel's possession, or
at least in a place she considers safe. Devils almost always keep the original in a safe place." She
looked at Pariah. "That's why your case is so interesting. As near as I can tell," she nodded at
Pariah's body, "that is the original. However, it's created in such a way that destroying it would
probably kill you before the contract was voided, thus damning your soul anyhow. It's really quite
ingenious."

"And by 'ingenious'," Lythienne observed, "you mean 'quite terrible'."

Sylvira looked surprised and then gave Pariah a guilty glance. "Yes. Sorry. Quite terrible, yes."
She shook herself back to the current situation. "Stealing the contract from Zariel is going to be as
hard as killing her. You could summon her and negotiate for it, but you'd have to offer her
something of greater value than Elturel."

"What's worth more than a city of souls?" Rowan wondered aloud.

"Two cities of souls?" Sylvira suggested. "I don't mean to sound sarcastic. That's the kind of deal
some people will make: sacrifice two cities of strangers to save a city of friends."

"That's...horrible," Ryland said, eyes wide.

"Dealing with infernals usually is," she said.

"I have a rather troubling question," Lythienne said. She looked at Ryland and said, "I'm sorry,
Ryland, but I have to ask this." To Sylvira, she said, "Can Elturel be saved? If it's already been
transported to Avernus, is there anything left to bring back?"

"Yes there is," said Sylvira emphatically. "I've spoken to one of my own contacts in Avernus." A
shadow crossed her face and Pariah felt a wave of horror emanate off of her. "He says that Elturel
is still intact...mostly...and that..." She spared a glance at Ryland before continuing. "...many of the
people are still alive. However, the city is being drawn down into the River Styx, and once that
happens, all will be lost."

"Then we must hurry!" exclaimed Ryland.

"Maybe," she cautioned. "The area below the city has become the center of rather a large invasion
of demons, though it's unclear if that is because of Elturel or simple coincidence. And again,
without a plan, without some realistic way of resolving this problem, I'm not sure what we can do."

"We have to do something!" he insisted. "What good are you if you can't help us?"
"Ryland," Lythienne said again, this time a bit more sharply. "That's enough."

He looked abashed. Sylvira's lips pursed, but she said, "It's fine. I appreciate the young man's
distress. And I am working on the problem." She rubbed her face and Pariah realized she looked
very tired. "I suspect the Creed Resolute or the Companion are key to this, possibly both, but I'm
not sure how." She shook her head. "I have so many avenues of investigation, and only a few more
days."

She frowned and looked at Pariah. "If, and that's a big if, I could arrange for access to certain less
valuable books, could I ask you to help with the research?"

"Yes!" she said with excitement.

"Calm down, it's not a guarantee. They would be common books that aren't in the Great Library.
Even that I'm not sure I can arrange." She frowned. "And if you can't write... Well, I'll have to
interview you."

"I could assist her," Farima offered.

"No, I have other ideas for you. What's your background? You seem like some type of scholar to
me."

"Something like that. I studied a lot back in Almraiven. My area of expertise is the celestials."

Sylvira nodded thoughtfully. "That could be useful. Let me get you a list of books I'd like you to
review. If you could summarize some facts for me, that will help."

Farima suddenly looked introspective. "Very well. But perhaps tomorrow. I think I would like to
spend the rest of the day in prayer." She shook her head. "Blast, I'm such a fool."

"What's wrong?" Rowan asked.

Farima hesitated, and then said, "Well, it's rather a long story, but I will be brief. When I was a
child, I was blessed with some kind of celestial power. Since then, I have occasionally been visited
by an angelic figure in my dreams." Ryland snorted but she ignored him and continued. "It
happened again some months ago. As usual, his message was somewhat vague, but he said that my
destiny would be found in Baldur's Gate. I have been frustrated by recent events, feeling they were
diverting me from my path, but I now realize that this is the path. So I would like to pray for
guidance, see if any insight is sent my way."

Sylvira nodded. "All right, though the celestials have been reluctant to get involved. And," she
gave a sidelong glance to Ryland, "of course, be careful. You never know who is really talking to
you."

"Yes, I have considered that since we heard about Ryland's experience. However, this relationship
goes back many years so I am confident that it is, in fact, a celestial who has been guiding me. So I
will spend the rest of the day in meditation and prayer, and start on your research tasks tomorrow."
She turned to Rowan. "Perhaps you could petition Tymora for assistance."

Pariah was surprised by the sour look on Rowan's face. "Yeah, I'll try," she said without
enthusiasm.

"Ryland," Sylvira said, turning to him. "Why don't you stay behind? You must know some details
about the history of Elturel over the last 50 years. You might be able to help me focus my
research."
 "All right," he said gratefully.

"I'm happy to help as well," said Lythienne, "though I'm not sure what I can do. My background is
mostly entertainment, and I'm not sure how much help A Song to Study By would be." She looked
thoughtful. "Well, I am a student of stories, and often truth can be found in supposedly fictional
tales. If you could point me to appropriate legends, I might be able to help that way."

"Yes," Sylvira said thoughtfully. "I can think of a few ideas." She closed her eyes and blew out a
tired breath. "I'll prepare lists of books for each of you, then. And questions I'm hoping to have
answered. I'll send them to the House of Rest. We'll meet again in a couple of days and compare
notes. For now, Ryland, you stay, the rest of you go and let me get started."

Chapter End Notes

The grim punishments mentioned come from An Introduction to Candlekeep by Ed

Greenwood. Since he's the original creator of the Forgotten Realms, that seems like a
pretty reliable source.

Another common complaint about this module is "Why would the PCs go to
Avernus?" While motivation is what people generally mean when they ask that
question, I struggled with the question of what they could accomplish. Going with the
intent of facing down an archdevil is just absurd. Going with the idea of "we'll figure
something out when we get there" isn't any better. Sure, for a game I can see the
players assuming there is a path, though that's still bad game design. However, for a
story it's more complicated. Justin Alexander put it this way in his remix:

The book so blithely presents this as the next thing that happens (it’s the
name of the book!) that it might take you a moment to realize that the PCs
have absolutely no reason to do this.

“But they’ve just learned that the city of Elturel has been transported to
Hell!”

Uh huh. So what?

They’re 5th level PCs. They have no special resources or knowledge that
puts them in a unique position to solve this problem and we’ve already
established that Elturel is filled with high-level paladins, spellcasters, and
others that obviously haven’t been able to solve the problem. In fact, since
the PCs have no idea how to solve the problem, the solution could just as
easily be found in Waterdeep or the Elturian crater or Iriaebor as in
Avernus!

Frodo taking the One Ring to Mordor? Sure. He has a unique vector for
destroying Sauron’s power that no one else in the world has.

Some random halfling without the One Ring heading to Mordor to “save
the day”? It makes no sense. It’s suicide.
I came up with a decent idea, to be revealed in a future chapter, but it took a lot of
thinking to get there.
 A Drunken Rant
Chapter Summary

The search for answers at Candlekeep continues, but has led only to frustrating dead
ends. Tensions and tempers are running high.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah was sitting in one of the upper bunks, her back against the wall and her legs hanging over
the side, reading a book in the light of the lantern on the wall. She looked up when the door to the
room opened. Lythienne poked her head in and said, "We are gathering in The Hearth for supper.
Do you want to join us?"

Pariah suddenly realized she was hungry. Sylvira had sent over some books right as she had been
thinking of going to The Hearth for lunch and she had dug into the volumes excitedly, forgetting
about the meal. "Yeah," she said, folding down a corner of the page and dropping the book on the
stack of books on the bed next to her. She dropped down from the top bunk, and then followed
Lythienne down the hall, through the reception area and into The Hearth.

The place wasn't very crowded. "What time is it?" she asked, disoriented. She could see it was dark
outside.

"It's well after sundown," said Lythienne. "It looks like we all got lost in our tasks today and forgot
about the time, so we are dining a bit late tonight."

They joined Farima and Rowan at one of the tables. Farima was tucking into a bowl of stew.
Rowan didn't have food in front of her, instead focusing in a mug of ale. From the flush of her
cheeks and glassiness of her eyes, it clearly wasn't her first. Pariah glanced at the menu board on
the wall. Behind the bar was a silver-skinned elf man with black hair and multiple ruby studs in his
pointed ears. She struggled for a moment to remember his name, and then said, "Evening, Eirvin.
Chicken and potatoes. And ale."

"The same for me," said Lythienne as she put some silver on the bar. "But wine rather than ale."
The man nodded and started filling their drink orders.

"Well, I hope your days were better than mine," said Lythienne dispiritedly. "I still have a lot of
reading in front of me, but I have so far been unable to find anything useful."

"I've found a little," Pariah said, "but probably nothing that she doesn't already know." Sylvira had
been able to get some books to her, and they had been easier to follow than some of the ones she
had tried to read in the Great Library. She was learning a lot about Elturel, but it was probably
information Ryland could tell her. Pariah wondered if it was just busywork, but she slogged on
anyhow, hoping to find some tidbit that could make a difference. "What about you two?" she asked
Farima and Rowan. "What do the gods have to say?"

Farima put down her spoon and both women looked gloomy. As Rowan took another drink, Farima
said, "We spent the day in the House of the Binder. The priests had no problem allowing us to pray
to other gods, as long as we didn't pray to Cyric, Bane or Mask, who are enemies of the god
Oghma."

She stopped as Eirvin brought their drinks. Rowan held out her empty mug and he took it to refill.
As he walked away, Farima said, "I spent quite a bit of time praying to the angel I have seen in my
dreams. I received no insight, though I didn't expect a direct answer. I have a slim hope he will visit
my dreams tonight. Other than that, I spent most of the afternoon praying to Tyr for some kind of
sign. In addition to being the god of my primary worship, he is also worshipped in Elturel
alongside Torm, Amaunator, Lathander, and Helm. I had hoped they could give me some insight
in how to save a city that revered them." Rowan snorted in derision.

Farima paused, looking at Rowan. When the other woman didn't speak, Farima said carefully, "I
received no answer. Rowan and I spoke earlier, and her experience petitioning Tymora was
similar."

Eirvin returned with another mug of ale. Rowan raised it in a mock toast and said bitterly, "Fortune
favors the bold. In other words, fuck off and do it yourself."

There was an awkward silence, filled when Lythienne said, "Well, perhaps we shall have better
luck tomorrow. There are many great minds here so here's hoping we can formulate a plan in the
five days we have left."

"Well," said Pariah around a mouthful of food, "we do have one plan. Go find the survivors in the
High Hall."

Farima and Lythienne looked at each other; Rowan just looked into her mug. "Yes," said Lythienne
slowly, "but here is hoping we can find a more reliable source than an archdevil."

Pariah shrugged. "I don't trust him, but so far he's the only one who's suggested anything."

They ate in silence for a bit, and then Pariah said, "I guess we haven't really talked about that. The
possibility that we might have to go there." She looked at Farima. "You still willing?"

Farima looked hesitant. "I agree I would like a source other than a fiend. But, if it is the only
option, and there was a way to return, then I am willing to go."

"Lythienne?" Pariah asked.

The elf was studying her food intently. "I do not know," she said softly. "I am of two minds on this.
On the one hand I feel that it might be what Evaelisar would want. In his letter, he said all of his
actions since still hadn't atoned for what he had done on that dreadful day. He feared the judgment
of the Lord of the Dead, feared for his soul. And now." She paused. "And now it seems that his
soul may have been forfeit to Zariel anyhow." With difficulty she said, "If that is true, then I know
I should try to save him, but...I am afraid. I saw what that horrific place did to him. I do not know if
I am strong enough to fare better."

Pariah reached out and squeezed her hand. "We'll get through it together. You aren't alone."

"Neither was he. And yet the malevolence of the place broke him. Broke many of them."

Pariah said, "You take your time to figure it out. Nobody is going to judge you for your decision."
To Farima she said pointedly, "Right?"

"Of course," Farima agreed.

Pariah turned to the last member of their party. "Rowan, what about you?"

She didn't look up. "I don't know either," she said, her speech slurred. Pariah waited but she didn't
say anything more.

Sensing the need to move on, Pariah said, "I've asked around a bit. Little One," she nodded at his
empty chair, "was sympathetic but has given up fighting. He is going to talk to Sylvira about aiding
her research. Everybody else I've talked to is a scholar or something. Not the adventuring type."

Farima nodded gloomily. "The head priest at the House of the Binder mentioned that one of the
frequent visitors to the temple was a powerful wizard. I spoke to him and he seemed interested, at
least until I mentioned our actual destination. He called me mad and left."

Pariah said, "I've also tried to reach...him." She tapped her head. "Hoping he would tell me more
about his plans. He won't say anything."

The group descended into a heavy silence. Pariah was lost in thought and it took her a moment to
realize that someone was standing next to the table on the other side of Lythienne. She looked up
to see Ryland wearing an expression of shame, with a bowl of stew in his hands. "Can I join you?"
he asked the group hesitantly.

They looked at each other, and then Lythienne said, "Of course, Ryland." She scooted over
towards Pariah to make room for him and Pariah shifted over as well. He sat, put the bowl and
spoon on the table in front of him, and then folded his hands into his lap.

"I want to apologize about...well...everything. Even before what happened on the road. I guess I've
made a lot of mistakes since the first day I met all of you. I was aggressive and closed minded,
while you were just trying to help the people of your city. And now you are helping mine. And
then the things I did on the trip were..." He broke off and had trouble speaking.

Lythienne patted him on the back. "Ryland, it's okay. I think we all understand what you were
going through." She turned to the rest of the group and said, "Right?" in a tone that was polite but
at the same time strongly discouraged opposition to her words. They all mumbled agreement.

"Your fervor was understandable," Farima said. "You were apprehensive about the fate of not only
your city, but your friends and family. I think a certain amount of misbehavior that came out of
enthusiasm can be forgiven."

"We talked about this even before we knew what was going on," Pariah added. "You’ve been
through a lot in the last few weeks, more than any of us. And you stopped before you crossed a line
when you wouldn't poison the stew pot. That, I think, is what's important. You didn't lose
yourself."

He looked up at them, a hint of a hopeful smile on his face. "Thank you. I'll do better in the future.
I would still like to travel with you if I could."

"Of course," Pariah said in surprise. "We just assumed you'd come with us if we have to go to
Elturel."

"Absolutely!" he said enthusiastically. "Have you decided that's what we are going to do then?"

The gloom descended over the group again. "We are still unsure of the path forward," said Farima.
"But know that we will do everything we can to save your city." She paused. "As Pariah pointed
out earlier, her master suggested that going there is the first step to rescuing Elturel."
Pariah pursed her lips. "He's not my master," she said sharply.

A flash of annoyance crossed Farima's face, but then she said with reluctance, "Very well. I am
unsure what to call him. I refuse to use his name." She went on quickly, "My point is, although he
is an unreliable source, it is at least a possible path forward. Pariah and I are committed to going.
The other two are still considering the proposition, and we are hoping to recruit more."

"I want to do something," Ryland said as he started eating. "I'm tired of just sitting around."

"We still have five days," said Lythienne. "We want to gather as much information as we can.
Surely as a Hellrider you know good intelligence is important before an attack."

"Yeah, I know," he said. "I'm just restless. It's all research now and I'm no good at that."

"You could train," suggested Pariah. "Go out the gate and I'd bet they'd give you your weapons
back until you want to came back in."

"Yeah, I guess," he mumbled, then he looked slightly embarrassed. "Here I came to apologize for
my mood, and I'm still being grumpy." The group chuckled at that and he relaxed.

They finished their dinner in polite conversation. The overall mood was still low, but they covered
it with smiles and laughter when they could. Except for Rowan. She said little, downing ale after
ale as the night wore on. Eventually the group broke up, Lythienne off to the bath house, Farima to
the temple, and Ryland to bed. Rowan showed no sign of leaving so Pariah decided to stay and
keep an eye on her.

She tried to engage Rowan in conversation but the woman wasn't interested in talking, responding
with grunts and short sentences. Finally, as Rowan signaled for another drink, Pariah said, "Hold
off on that, Eirvin."

Rowan looked annoyed. "I want another drink," she said.

"Later," Pariah replied. "Let's go for a walk."

"I don't want to walk. I want to drink."

"Humor me." When Rowan hesitated, Pariah added, "Please?"

Rowan blew out a long sigh. "Fine," she said in a huff. She stood, swaying in place and blinking in
confusion. Pariah stood and moved next to her, taking her arm. "So I'm drunk," Rowan slurred. "So
what?"

"So nothing," Pariah said, guiding her towards the door leading out. "Let's just get some air."

Rowan grunted but allowed herself to be led outside, leaning on Pariah for support. They exited
into the night outside. The Court of Air wasn't well lit, the only light coming from magical lanterns
set beside the doors to the buildings. Most of the courtyard was in darkness, though Pariah could
see dimly with her black eyes.

She led Rowan around the edge of the courtyard, though it was challenging to keep in a straight
line with how much the woman staggered. "So what do you want?" Rowan demanded thickly. "Are
you going to lecture me about my drinking?"

"No. I just wanted to know if you were all right."

Rowan laughed bitterly. "All right? Have you been paying attention? None of us are all right. The
world is literally being sucked into the Nine Hells. First Elturel. Then Baldur's Gate. Then
probably Waterdeep and Neverwinter and Luskan and everywhere else." Her voice started to grow
louder as she stopped and turned to confront Pariah. "And they don't care!" she said accusingly.

"Who?" Pariah asked, confused.

"Them!" Rowan barked, pointing at the sky. "They sit on their fat asses looking down at us,
laughing at us as we scramble around trying to survive, and they sip their nectar or whatever the
fuck they do up there and they do nothing! We pray to them. We get on our knees and beg them,
and they do nothing!"

Rowan brought her hand up and grabbed her hair in frustration. "The people of Elturel worshipped
them. They worshipped Torm and Lathander and all those, but they just stood by as the people
died. Not only that, they did nothing for fifty years while the people were cursed. Fifty years their
souls were lost, and none of the gods bothered tapping a priest on the shoulder and saying, 'Hey,
maybe you guys want to fix this.' No, they just ignore us. They take our worship and our gifts and
our love and give us nothing." She put her face in Pariah's and demanded, "Why?"

Rowan dropped her hand to her side. Still aiming her anger in Pariah's direction, she said, "You
know how many times I've told people 'Fortune favors the bold'? That's Tymora's thing, right?
Fortune favors the bold. Do it yourself. I'm sorry you are starving, but fortune favors the bold. I'm
sorry your daughter is dying of plague, but fortune favors the bold. I'm sorry that bandits stole all
your stuff and burned your house down and murdered your family, but fortune favors the fucking
bold! If your life sucks, it's your fault because you weren't bold. You weren't worthy of Tymora's
attention because you didn't fix it yourself. Just stop being poor! Just stop being sick! Just stop
being dead! Just stop being a victim! Because fuck knows the gods won't help. You said it the first
time we met: my bitch goddess just lets it happen." Rowan took a breath and then shouted at her, "I
should have been safe in my own temple!"

Rowan turned away and started to sob. Pariah was stunned, not having expected the sudden change
in direction in her tirade. She struggled to think of something to say, and in the end simply reached
out and folded Rowan into her arms. Rowan turned and put her arm around Pariah, pressing her
face against her hair. Pariah felt hot tears against her ear as Rowan whimpered, "Why didn't she
protect me?"

Pariah held her as she cried loudly. After many long minutes, her sobs dwindled and stopped, and
Pariah continued to hold her. Eventually, Rowan said dully, "I'm tired."

"Okay," Pariah said. She pulled back, keeping one arm around the other woman as they started to
walk towards the House of Rest. Rowan leaned in against her but still had trouble walking a
straight line. They staggered their way to the door and down the hall to their room. She helped
Rowan fall into her bunk and then sat on the floor beside her, holding her hand until she fell asleep.

Pariah skimmed the page in front of her, reading yet another story of the battle against the vampire
lord and the sudden appearance of the Companion in the sky. There was no new information here,
and considering how much it differed from the other accounts she had read, she was skeptical of its
accuracy. She heard a groan from the bunk below. "You alive?" she asked. The response was
another groan.

She sat up and put the book face down on the bed before slipping off. As her boots hit the floor,
she heard a louder groan. She reached over to the cup of water by the basin and said, "Here. Drink
this."
Rowan sat up in the lower bunk at looked at the cup bleary eyed. She reached out for it and drank
it down greedily. When she was done she handed it back and looked around in confusion. "What
time is it?" she asked.

"About mid-morning," said Pariah.

Rowan smacked her lips with a disgusted look on her face. "Yuck. I guess I had a little too much
last night. I-" She suddenly broke off and her eyes widened. She inhaled sharply and looked at
Pariah in horror. "Oh gods," she said. "Gods, gods, gods." She buried her face in her hands. "No,
no, no. Gods, I can't believe I said all that."

Pariah chuckled and sat down on the bed next to her. "Ah, the guilty morning after face," she
teased.

Rowan looked at her. "No, not funny. Oh, what I said. Oh, Kelemvor, take me now."

Pariah put an arm around her. "I'm sure it's fine," she said. "I figure the gods already know what we
are thinking. Saying it out loud doesn't change that."

Rowan reached up to grip the coin around her neck. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she muttered.
"Oh I can't believe I said all that."

Pariah opened her mouth to tease her again but could see she was really upset, so instead she said,
"Rowan, I'm sure it's fine."

Rowan slipped off the bed and dropped to her knees. With her eyes squeezed tight, she said, "Lady
Tymora, please forgive my sacrilege. Forgive my momentary weakness in my faith. I beg you to
show me your mercy...by taking this terrible headache away." She drew in a sudden breath and let
it out slowly.

Rowan turned to look at Pariah, who was still sitting on the bunk. "Well, my head feels better. I
guess means she doesn't hate me."

"Of course she doesn't," Pariah said. "And, I mean, you weren't wrong in what you said."

Rowan shushed her, looking around guiltily. "You're going to get me in more trouble," she hissed.

Pariah knelt down the floor next to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "Everything's all right. I
promise." After a bit she said, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Rowan said emphatically. "I've already said too much. I think I need to spend the day in
prayer and penance."

Pariah pulled back to look at her. "I don't just mean your feelings about Tymora. I mean, well, how
you feel about what the priest did. I guess you have a lot of stuff built up inside."

Rowan grunted. "Don't you?" She shrugged. "We never talked about it. I mean I don't know what
we'd say. It sucked. We killed him. It still sucks but at least he's dead." She paused and then said
with difficulty, "I have mixed feelings about what you did to him at the end. The priest in me
knows it was blasphemy. The woman in me hopes he suffers for eternity." She winced. "Dammit,
my mouth is going to get me into more trouble."

"I'm not really happy with what I did either," Pariah said. "But it's done." A thought occurred to
her. "You think he's there? I mean, if we go there, do you think it's possible we might run into him?
Not that I want to, but..."
Rowan shook her head. "No. He went to Levistus, who's the ruler of Stygia. Different level of the
Hells."

"Oh."

Rowan studied her and then looked away. She sat down on the stone floor and said. "How do you
feel about what happened to us? I mean you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. It's just
this awful thing that we four have in common and we've never talked about it."

Pariah sat down on the floor as well. "I don't know," she said. "I kind of figured I deserved it."

Rowan looked up at her with horror in her eyes. "What? No, don't ever say that. Nobody deserves
that."

Pariah shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. I mean you three didn't, but don't forget why I was there.
Honestly, at first, I thought Tymora was punishing me for trying to kill one of her priests. And not
just kill him but...well...you know. Was what he did any worse than what I was going to do?" She
leaned back on her arms and looked up at the ceiling. "And then later when we found out what he
was, and that he wasn't even a priest of hers, it still felt like a punishment, just from Bane rather
than Tymora. It didn't really matter."

"It matters," Rowan emphasized. "You didn't deserve that, no matter what you were there to do."

"I guess," she said dismissively. "But it was worse for you. You hadn't done anything wrong and
you had to be there all the time. I assume...it happened more than once."

Rowan folded her arms. "Yeah," she said.

"I'm sorry. And you were right: you should have been safe in your own temple. And she should
have protected you." Pariah looked up and said. "You hear me, Tymora? You're a bitch for not
keeping your priests safe!"

"Stop it," Rowan said, clearly offended.

"What's she going to do? Send me to the Hells?"

The joke went over poorly and merely made things awkward. Rowan said hesitantly, "Did...it ever
happen to you before? I mean, I hear stories about what happens to women in the Outer City."

Pariah said, "No. I was lucky. I was a good enough thief that I never had to whore, good enough
with a knife that I was able to keep guys off me, and fast enough to run when they were too much
for me." She frowned. "But I was lucky. I knew women -- hells I knew men -- who were good in a
fight who still got overwhelmed. I never got cornered by a gang of them. And we take care of our
own. A guy who does that often ends up in the harbor tied to a rock or lying in an alley bleeding
from his crotch. But if you don't have a crew..." She shook her head.

Wanting a change in subject, Pariah said, "Come on. Let's get some food in you."

"No," Rowan said. "I think I'm going to fast today. Part of my penance." She looked thoughtful.
"And maybe I'll go talk to the head priest in the House of the Binder. I'm sure I'm not the first
priest to feel this way. Maybe he's got some advice." She looked at Pariah. "I really do believe in
Tymora's good works. I just have some mixed feelings right now. I guess I had more resentment
than I thought."

"Walk you to the temple?"

 Rowan smiled. "Yeah, that would be nice."

Chapter End Notes

Rowan's scene has roots back to the first chapter. I thought about how each of them
reacted to what happened to them at the hands of the priest, and I knew it would hit
Rowan the hardest. I tried to show her crisis of faith subtly, knowing it would
eventually lead to this. That doesn't mean it's over, of course.

After I wrote this chapter, I read Giffyglyph's Darker Dungeons, which is a free
download of homebrew rules. I am adding his rules for Active Inventory, Help,
Success at a Cost, Making a Journey, Light & Shadow (but not the part where light
spells requires concentration) and Survival Conditions. I'm tweaking Survival
Conditions so that Overwhelming Heat doesn't cause automatic Exhaustion; instead it
gives +1 Thirst and +1 Fatigue per day. It will also be difficult to get undisturbed sleep
in Hell, so Fatigue may prove to be an issue over the long run. I'm considering having
an area where Dangerous Magic rules exist. Finally, I'm not going to go back and
rewrite the Dead Three chapters based on the new lighting rules, but moving forward
Pariah and Lythienne have only Low Light Vision rather than full Darkvision.

I'm also trying to figure out my own systems for Sanity and Lingering Injuries that
works for narrative purposes. I've sort of used Lingering Injuries already, when it took
Lythienne several days to recover from that one wound. That was a Level 1 Wound in
my system, which gives -1 to appropriate rolls (e.g. a mild sprain). Level 2 gives
disadvantage (e.g. a broken arm), and Level 3 gives permanent disability (e.g. "A
scratch? Your arm's off!"). There is also Level 0, which is narrative only, no game
effect. However, I haven't fully figured out the mechanics behind it yet. I'm making
things up as I go. As always, story supersedes rules, even rules I create myself. I
merely like having rules as a framework to keep me from making characters over- or
under-powered.
 A Dubious Plan
Chapter Summary

Time is running out for Elturel but solutions are few. Sylvira may have an idea of how
the group can help.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"But if a man has truly repented," Little One rumbled, "is it just to punish him for past crimes? If
he has truly changed his ways, become a compassionate and generous individual, does it make
sense to imprison him for actions taken when he was a different person? Can a truly civilized
society..." He trailed off. "Must you keep doing that?"

Pariah looked up in surprise. "Sorry," she laughed. She was standing on the balls of her feet,
bouncing up and down gently to feel the flexibility of her leather soles. She settled back onto her
heels. "New boots. They are the most comfortable thing I've ever felt in my life."

The ogre grinned. "Understandable." He waved to his own enormous leather shoes. "It was not
until I came here that I wore anything on my feet. Arch support is a truly miraculous invention."

She stared off in thought. "But about what you said, I guess I see your point. If someone has
become a good person, then punishing them is just cruel."

"Ah," he said, "but is it just to allow a crime to go unpunished? Should someone be allowed to
evade penalty merely by being sorry? What if a man murdered someone dear to you? Even if you
knew the man had repented and changed his ways, would you be satisfied? Or would you expect
retribution?"

Pariah's brow furrowed in confusion. "Whose side are you on?"

Little One chuckled deeply. "Neither. The true scholar endeavors to see both sides of a debate, to
appreciate different points of view." He looked more serious. "I am biased in this matter, but even I
am torn. I have done terrible things. I am changed, and wouldn't harm even an insect now, but that
does not excuse the crimes of my past. If I was brought to trial for the murder of the halfling, am I
not guilty? Does his family not deserve the justice of my punishment, even my execution?"

Pariah leaned back against the wall and folded her arms. "Well, punishing you doesn't bring him
back. And it doesn't stop you from doing it again because you've already decided not to do it
again."

"And so I ask again, if I had murdered someone you loved, would you be so compassionate?" His
eyes twinkled as he said, "Be honest."

Reluctantly she said, "I don't know."

"I do my best to atone," he said. "I try to harm no living creature." He looked troubled. "I have
even attempted a vegetarian diet so that no animal would be harmed by my existence, but alas, I
have discovered that ogre physiology cannot be sustained without animal protein. I try to limit my
intake of meat to the minimum necessary, but my body is that of a carnivore and needs flesh to
live." He looked off into the distance. "I have heard of magical items called ioun stones.
Apparently there is a stone that allows one to survive without food. I hope to find something like
that one day so I can live without causing the death of any living creature. Until then, all I can do is
offer my thanks to the spirit of the creature for its sacrifice."

"I'll keep an eye out," she said. "Maybe I'll stumble across one in my travels."

His mood darkened and he looked at her gravely. "You leave soon," he said.

She nodded. "We have to leave the keep day after tomorrow. I'm still not sure what the plan is. We
meet with Sylvira in the morning to see if she has figured anything out."

"Alas, I have been no help in my research."

Pariah sighed. "Yeah, me too. But thanks for trying."

"And you still intend to go to Avernus despite lack of a clear objective?"

She nodded. "I don't see any other choice. I'm not happy following his plan, but unless Sylvira
comes up with something, at least it's a chance." She had told Little One some, though not all, of
her situation with Levistus. He had been surprisingly accepting, though visibly saddened by it.

"I feel these words fall short," he said, "but be careful."

"I'll do my best."

The door to the outside open and Pariah looked up to see the others coming into The Hearth. Little
One said, "Ah, I see the place is filling up for dinner. In that case, I will retire to my quarters."

"No, stay," Pariah said. "Eat with us."

He smiled but said, "Thank you, but I shall have to decline. I am a bit self-conscious about eating
and I prefer to dine in private."

Little One rose, towering above her, and gingerly made his way to the outer door, saying his good
nights to people as he passed. There were a few expressions of horror from those who were
surprised by the ogre in their midst, but Pariah had heard that most people liked him once they got
past their initial reactions.

Pariah joined the others as they ordered their food and drinks. She glanced over at Rowan, who had
been in better spirits since her outburst three nights previous. She had told Pariah that her day of
penance and her talk with the priest had helped a little. He hadn't had the same experience but, as
Rowan had said, those doubts were not uncommon among the clergy and countless books had been
written on the subject. He had given her the titles of a few. She was still troubled, but a bit more at
peace with her relationship with Tymora and the gods in general than she had been before.

Ryland was also in a good mood. He had been wary of the others after his apology, but the group
had been welcoming and slowly he had relaxed. As with Rowan, Pariah could sense some conflict
underneath the surface, but less than before. Regardless of the truths he had faced, he was still
fiercely loyal to the people of Elturel and hoped to be able to save them.

Dinner passed in a comforting cloud of happy conversation. It was a façade, beneath which was the
shadow of the grim knowledge they all shared: they might not be able to save Elturel. Despite that,
they all relaxed in the brief mirage of good food and good company. After the meal, Pariah, Farima
and Ryland went out to stroll around the courtyard. They walked in silence for a while until Ryland
said hesitantly, "Pariah, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure," the tiefling said.

"Farima...well...Farima told me some more about your contract. About the fact you sacrificed your
soul."

"Did she?" Pariah said, raising her eyebrows at the other woman.

"My apologies," Farima said self-consciously. "I briefly forgot that he did not already know. I am
not very good at keeping secrets. I have been told I am too honest for my own good." She pursed
her lips before adding, "Many times."

Pariah was slightly annoyed. She had told Rowan and Lythienne that aspect of her contract, but
hadn't planned to tell Ryland. However, she realized it probably would have gotten out eventually
as they traveled together. "So what's your question?" she asked Ryland.

"Well, how could you do that? How could you make such a sacrifice? Was it for the power?"

Pariah thought for a moment. "Ryland, if a devil came to you right now and said he'd free Elturel
from the Hells, from the Creed Resolute, if you gave up your soul, would you?"

"Their souls would be completely free? For all time?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I mean I'd like to think I would. It seems better that one soul suffer
rather than thousands." With more fervor he said, "Yes. Yes, I would."

"And what if he said he would save only half of Elturel? Or only one person in four? Or one person
in ten? Would you still do it? What if it were only a dozen souls? You said it's better for one to
suffer than many, but what if that one was you? And what if it wasn't their souls, but merely their
lives. Their souls would be judged and go where they are supposed to, but they would be gone."
Before he could speak, she added, "And would it change your answer if they were your closest
friends and family?"

They walked in silence for a while as he considered the question. "I guess I'm not sure. I mean
maybe? I'd have to think about it."

"And what if you didn't have time to think about it? What if you had to make the decision in a
heartbeat?" She stopped and pulled him to face her. She barked, "Now! Decide now or they all
die!"

He stammered and she relented, saying, "And that was the decision I had to make. That fast."

They resumed walking. "I guess I understand a little better," he said.

"That is what he does," Farima said. Pariah turned to her, a question on her face. Farima continued.
"I have been reading about your..." She searched for a word. "...acquaintance," she finished
weakly. "That is a common tactic he uses. He finds people at the moment of their greatest need,
their greatest vulnerability, and tempts them not with power but with salvation."

Pariah was surprised. "You read about him?"

"Yes," Farima said reluctantly. "I, too, am trying to understand the decision you made. It seems...I
mean no disrespect, but it seems short-sighted. However, I understand that you didn't have time to
weigh all your options, to consider the pros and cons of the decision. Which, again, is what he
relies on."

"You think I made a mistake saving my crew," Pariah said, irritation in her voice.

Farima made indecisive noises and then said, "Not exactly. That is my point. Whether or not a
logical evaluation of your decision reveals its value is not relevant. You had to decide in that
moment. You had to weigh their fates against yours and decide on instinct."

"And you think my instinct was wrong?"

Farima seemed frustrated. "No. I am not making myself clear." She put her hands behind her back
and continued. "I have been thinking about souls and their value. We are going into the home of
the devils, where they are their strongest, and I have been thinking about temptation. Any of us
may be offered a contract like yours. Any of us may be asked to weigh our souls against our
desires. And I wondered how much I valued my own soul, what I would be willing to exchange it
for."

Pariah felt horror rising up from within her. "Are you saying you are thinking of making a
contract?"

"No," Farima said firmly. "Quite the opposite. I am trying to be prepared for the temptations I
might face, so I can reject them. I do not want to make the same..." She hesitated. "...decision that
you did."

Pariah suspected that by 'decision' she meant 'mistake' but let it go. "And what would you sell your
soul for?" she asked, partially to needle her but partially because she was curious.

They walked in silence again until Farima said softly, "You once shared a very personal story of
your past with us. I would like to do the same."

She took a breath and then began. "When I was a child, I shared a room with my younger sister,
Tika. I awoke one night to see the room was aflame. Tika's bed was empty and I thought I heard
her voice in the hallway so I assumed she had already fled. I made my way through the smoke and
flame. I woke the rest of my family and we evacuated as the fire spread with unnatural speed. It
was the first time my magical power manifested. I was able to summon water out of the air to clear
the flames out of our path."

Farima unfolded her hands and crossed her arms. "We got outside and only then realized that Tika
was not with us. Then...we heard her screams. She was still inside, but by now the house was an
inferno. My father rushed in and managed only a few steps inside before he was overwhelmed.
Neighbors managed to get him out but he was badly burned. They tried to quench the flames that
consumed our house but the fire was too fierce."

Her voice started to shake as she said, "Tika screamed for a very long time and we could do
nothing to help her. Finally she stopped and we settled in to wait for the fire to die." She wiped her
eyes and said, "That night I also discovered my touch could heal. I was able to aid my father, who
probably would have died otherwise. Later, when the fire was out, they brought out Tika's body. I
tried to revive her but could not."

She drew a shuddering breath and let it out. "The point to my story is this. If a devil appeared to me
now and said he could revive my sister, I would refuse. I have had time to accept her loss and
resolve my feelings. He would have no hold on me."

Farima turned to Pariah and said, "But if he had come to me in that moment, the moment of her
screaming, I would have given anything to save her. Anything. Now, I was a child, so I would not
fully appreciated the consequence of such a decision, but I think of my father and I have no doubt
that he would have done the same. He would have sacrificed his soul to save his daughter in that
moment, but only in that moment of grief and misery, when the mind is not thinking clearly.

"And that is what we must be on guard against. They offer us our deepest desire, not just what we
want in life, but what we want in that moment. And the price is never, ever worth it. I am deeply
distressed that my sister had to die so horribly, but the sacrifice of a soul, the payment of eternal
servitude and torment, is far too great a payment to prevent such a tragedy. I do not mean it to
sound like judgment of your decision." Lightly she added, "I do not mean to lecture," and Pariah
smiled. Farima continued, "I am saying merely that we each must decide now, when we have clear
heads, what our souls are worth and know that they are worth far more than anything the devils
could offer."

Pariah mulled that over. "Then I ask the same question of you I asked Ryland. If a devil offered to
free all the souls in Elturel in return for your own, would you agree?"

The question gave Farima pause. "I do not believe a devil would offer such an unbalanced trade."

"I don't know. I've been reading about contracts. Souls are not all the same. A soul given freely,
especially the soul of a good being, is worth far more than souls taken against their will. Your pure
soul might be worth more than all the souls in Elturel."

Farima turned and gave her a puzzled look. "If that was a compliment, it was the strangest I have
ever heard."

Pariah laughed. "Well, that wasn't exactly what I meant, but you get my point."

"Yes, and I believe you are correct." She frowned. "And I do not know if I would make such a
sacrifice or not. I would not trust the devil to make good on his word. That is to say, I believe he
would live up to the letter of our agreement, but in such a way that would prevent Elturel from
actually being saved. They often twist words to mean what they want them to."

They continued walking in silence until Pariah grumbled, "Devils suck."

"Well, yes," Farima said awkwardly. "That is a succinct but accurate description."

"So, in summary," Sylvira said, "that very long explanation boils down to one thing: I don't know
what to do."

The group had gathered in Sylvira's lab the following morning. She was sitting on the edge of one
of her tables. Her hair was in disarray, and her face was haggard with dark smudges under her eyes.

"However, I do have one idea. I need more information. I am certain that the Companion and the
Creed Resolute, the book itself, are keys to this contract. It is possible that examining them will
give me the information I need to have a chance of foiling the contract. And that is where you all
come in."

"You are coming with us to Elturel?" asked Farima.

"Gods, no," she said with passion. "But I do know someone who will. Traxigor is a wizard who
lives in a tower about twenty miles from here. He is willing to take your group to Elturel, cast the
spells necessary to gather information from those two items, and to bring you back. He commands
powerful magic, but he is a scholar not a combat mage, so you would go along to guard him from
any threats."

She stopped to yawn loudly. When she was done, she said, "And there is someone else. He has
a...friend named Lulu who will also accompany you. She has some experience with Avernus and
would be an effective guide."

Pariah frowned. "You are hiding something about her," she said.

Sylvira laughed weakly. "Yes, but nothing bad. Traxigor wanted it to be a surprise. Oh do shut up!"

The last order was not barked at the visitors, but rather at the golden shield. It still stood leaning
against one wall, as it had when they first brought it to her, but was now surrounded by a
shimmering field that was rooted in an arcane circle drawn on the floor around it. Sylvira sighed
and pointed at the shield. "Ladies and gentleman, meet Gargauth, a pit fiend and servant of
Asmodeus. He was sent here to corrupt mortals and at one time had a massive number of
worshippers. He was basically a demigod." She smirked at the shield. "My, how the mighty have
fallen!

"I don't know how he ended up in the shield, but it has been in the possession of the Hhune family
for years. That may be why one of them was imprisoned in the villa. The Hhunes will probably try
to get it back, and it would be very bad to let that happen. It needs to be removed from the presence
of corruptible mortals. I have it sealed off as best I can, but even I have felt its power tugging at
me. I know! I'm getting there!"

Again, that last comment was directed at the shield. "He keeps telling me that, if you take him to
the Nine Hells, he'll be your servant. And, to be fair, as long as you are useful to him, he probably
will be. I don't know what his agenda in the Hells is, other than perhaps to find a way back to his
master. Then again, I would think Asmodeus would punish a failure like him quite severely, so
who knows what he wants? The point is, he might be a valuable ally."

"No," said Farima firmly.

"Yeah, I'm with her," said Pariah and the others nodded agreement.

"Good choice," Sylvira said. "We will lock it in our transdimensional vault where its corrupting
energies can be more effectively blocked. I'll be glad to have that nasty thing out of my lab." She
looked over at her quasit. "Jezebel, bring me the map."

The small demon clambered up a shelf and pulled a scroll case out from a stack of others. It
skittered over and handed it to Sylvira. She stood and pulled the cap off the end of the case, saying,
"I have one resource that might help. This is the only map ever made of Avernus. I don't know how
accurate it is. The cartographer went insane while making it."

Sylvira rolled the map out on one of the tables, pointedly looking away from it as she did. The
group gathered around to examine the illustration. Pariah had trouble focusing on it, as though her
eyes were refusing to look at it. The map was drawn in reds and yellows, and was a crude depiction
of a stark landscape with a jagged river of red slashing across it. Drawings of buildings, trees and
creatures littered the map seemingly at random.

Pariah tried to take it in but it seemed to shift even as she looked at it. She could see a red lake with
a tower sticking out of it, a bridge across a green sea, a volcano next to a pool of black with a
tentacled creature swimming in it, and a massive dragon skull in a corner.

She finally had to tear her eyes away. Pariah looked over to see that Lythienne and Ryland had also
looked away from the map. Farima was still examining it, her teeth clenched tightly, as was
Rowan, who was tense but didn't seem to be as badly affected as the others. Rowan said, "Nothing
is labeled."

"Correct," said Sylvira. "And nobody knows what those symbols represent. And nobody knows if
Avernus even looks like this anymore. Or if it ever did."

"Helpful," Pariah said with a hint of sarcasm.

Sylvira shrugged. "It is still the only map of Avernus that exists. Attempts to copy it have always
failed, often with the person making the attempt suffering temporary madness. The map has a faint
magical aura but I can't determine what that magic is."

"Better than nothing, I suppose," Farima said in disappointment, finally looking away from it.

Sylvira started to roll the map up. "So the plan is you all travel to Traxigor's tower tomorrow and
accompany him to Elturel. While you are doing that, I will continue my work here, as well as keep
trying to find others to aid you. For all I know, multiple trips to the Hells might be needed, and I'm
not sure it's the kind of place you want to visit more than once."

Sylvira looked them over as she slipped the map back in its case. "I know it's not the plan we had
hoped for, but it's a step in the right direction. This is critical information Traxigor will be
gathering, and he is going to need you to protect him. So, are you willing to go?"

"I am," Ryland said emphatically.

"Me too," said Pariah.

"As am I," said Farima.

They turned to the other two. Rowan looked indecisive but then sighed dramatically. "Fine! I'll
go," she said.

Pariah grinned widely and reached out to squeeze her shoulder. She had been pretty certain Rowan
was going to back out, and she was thrilled she was going to come along.

All eyes were on Lythienne. "I do not know," she said with difficulty. "I still need to think."

"Come on," Pariah teased. "Think of the stories you will be able to tell. People will come from
miles to hear you talk about your time in the Nine Hells."

Lythienne smiled sadly at her. "While that is an appealing thought, I still need some time to
consider."

"Of course," Rowan said.

"Seriously, though," Pariah said. "You've been a huge help so far. We'd all understand if you prefer
to stay behind." Farima and Ryland nodded agreement.

"I will have an answer by morning," she said.

"All right," Pariah said. "We should pack tonight. We're getting kicked out tomorrow anyhow."
She turned to Sylvira and said, "If you'll give us directions to the tower, we'll ride out in the
 morning."

Sylvira gave her a mischievous grin. "Oh, this isn't the kind of place you get to by horse."

Chapter End Notes

This module is full of "Here's a cool character...aaaand he's gone" like Little One. Nice
backstory, and yet ultimately just filler. However, I like what I did with him, and he
will have a long-term influence on Pariah.

As some of you already know, the story of Farima's sister is told in more detail in A
Deadly Fire

I've previously recommended aaron_mag's "Out of the Abyss" fic; I'll admit the ioun
stone idea came from a scene in his story. I'd like to recommend a different "Out of the
Abyss" fic called Bright Future by captainecchi. It's a collection of stories from the
campaign she is playing in and presents a wonderful example of how players can
choose very different solutions to the challenges of a module.

I won't be posting next week. I've hit a tricky spot in the story and my writing has
slowed down. That means I don't have as much lead time as I'd like between where I'm
writing and where I'm posting. I still plan to post weekly most of the time, but I will
occasionally skip a week if the gap narrows. I'm hoping it won't be all that often. So
the next chapter will be posted Friday, March 19.
 A Daring Endeavor
Chapter Summary

The plan to accompany a scholar into Elturel, currently trapped in Avernus, is

desperate and dangerous but the only solution they can come up with.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah and Ryland lounged at a table in The Hearth not talking at the moment. They had donned
their armor in preparation of their departure, but Sylvira had sent word that there had been a delay
so they wouldn't be leaving until lunch time or so. They were killing time until then and had, at the
moment, run out of things to talk about. Rowan was off talking to the artificer who had been
preparing some kind of prosthetic arm. Lythienne was out wandering; she still had not decided if
she was going with them or not. Farima had said she had some last minute task in their room.

The outside door opened to reveal an enormous figure silhouetted in the entry way. Pariah smiled.
"Good morning, Little One," she said as the ogre ducked through the doorway.

"Oh, good, I caught you before you left," he said with a sharp-toothed grin. "I was afraid I would
not see you in time. Here. I brought you a gift."

He handed her a book. She looked at the cover and recognized the alphabet as Dwarvish, though
she was pretty sure the language wasn't. The title read, "Skybound Reflections on Ethics" and
below that was written the author's name, "Vrudlor".

Little One explained, "Vrudlor was a cloud giant who lived about a century ago. None of the giant
races create many written works, though the cloud giants are more literary than most. It is not a
popular book, I believe only a handful of copies were printed, but I find his writing speaks to me. It
formed the foundation of many of my philosophical beliefs. I think you will enjoy it."

"Thank you," she said, beaming. She opened it and flipped through the pages. "This is wonderful!"
She looked up at him. "I wish I had something for you."

He put his massive hand on her shoulder. "Come back safe, friend, and discuss your opinions on
this book with me. That will be your gift."

"I'll do my best," she promised.

He nodded at her, then at Ryland, and then exited The Hearth. Pariah wanted to read this right
away but she knew they'd be leaving soon so figured she'd save it for later. "I'm going to go pack
this away," she said. "I'll be right back."

She went through the other door, cutting through the lobby of the House of Rest and down the hall
to their room. She entered and found Farima kneeling in front of one of the beds, carefully placing
objects in a wooden box.

"What's that?" Pariah asked as she put the book in her backpack, more out of courtesy than interest.
Farima glanced up with a look of irritation at being interrupted. "It's a memorial box." When Pariah
raised her eyebrows in inquiry, Farima leaned back from her task. "It is a practice started centuries
ago by warriors in my culture before going into battle," she said. "Since then it has become a
common practice by anyone who is going on a long, potentially dangerous journey. You choose
items of personal significance, put them in a box and leave them with someone you can trust." The
annoyance in her tone faded as she warmed to her subject.

"Why?" asked Pariah, a little bit of curiosity flickering in her.

"Several reasons. It is thought to anchor your soul so that, if you don't survive your journey, your
soul can find its way home."

"There's a happy thought," Pariah said sourly.

Farima pursed her lips. "Surely you realize the danger of the task we are about to undertake."

Pariah shrugged. "I guess. I try not to think about it." She looked thoughtful and added, "And I
guess souls might need help getting home from a place like that."

Farima nodded gloomily. "The memorial serves other purposes. We often return from a long
journey as different people than when we left. It can offer a glimpse into our past selves so we can
appreciate those changes in our character." After a moment she added, "And, should we not return,
the mementos are keepsakes for our loved ones."

Pariah snorted. "I guess I don't have to worry about that."

Farima said cautiously, "I do not mean to pry, but I thought you spoke with your friend before we
left the city. I thought you had mended fences."

Pariah sat on the other bed. "Sort of. I guess."

"Is there nothing that links you to your former life with them?"

Pariah clenched her jaw. "I'm not much for stuff. Nearly everything I have now I bought after
leaving them."

"It doesn't have to be something you have. It could be something that represents something more
abstract: a thought, a feeling, a regret, a memory, unfinished business, anything."

Pariah didn't respond. Thoughts chased each other in her mind and she wasn't sure what to say.
After a while, Farima prompted, "If there was one thing you could do for or say to them, what
would it be?"

Pariah thought about it. "I said I'd tell him what happened to me. After I left them. I didn't have
time when I saw him. I had to meet you guys. So I said I'd tell him the whole story when I got back
to Baldur's Gate." She sighed. "And I'm not sure I'm going to get back there."

"You could write a letter," she suggested. "If you don't return, it would give you an opportunity to
say those things now. And if you do, it could be a valuable glimpse for yourself into how the
journey has changed you."

Pariah snorted. "Well, I still can't write and he can't read, so that's not going to work."

"There are solutions to that. Falaster goes to Baldur's Gate often. I imagine he could take the letter
to your friend and read it to him if we do not return. And I could write the letter for you. Tell me
what you want to say. Or, if it is too personal to share with me, there are many scribes here at
Candlekeep who could write it for you."

Pariah looked at her. Her intent seemed genuine. "You'd do that?"

"Of course," Farima said in surprise. "Why do you think I would refuse?"

Pariah considered the question. Farima was still distant and gave off an aura of distrust, but she had
been making an effort to be kinder. And she had been teaching Pariah some things about studying,
though their writing lessons had yet to start. Pariah realized she was being unfair to to the other
woman.

Pariah nodded slowly. "I mean, if you don't mind. We still have some time before we leave."

"Of course. Let me get my pen and ink and we can begin."

Farima was sealing an envelope with wax when Falaster appeared in the doorway. "Ah," he said.
"There you are. Everything is prepared. Time to go meet Sylvira."

"Have you seen Lythienne?" Pariah asked.

"She went to speak with Sylvira," he said.

"Do you know if that means she's coming with us?" she asked. He shook his head, so she said,
"Well, let's take her stuff with us. Either way, she has to leave today. Leave Rowan's bag, I guess,
since she'll have to put on her armor when she comes back."

While Pariah grabbed the packs, Farima went up to Falaster. She handed him the wooden box,
which he accepted somberly. "I hope to return this to you," he said. "But, if not, I will see it gets to
your family."

"Thank you," she said. "And I hate to impose but I have another favor to ask." She handed him the
envelope and a separate sheet of paper. "Should we not return, please find the man described here
and deliver this envelope to him. He is in Baldur's Gate, the Wyrm's Crossing district. In fact, he
was the gentleman who stole our bag as we crossed." Falaster raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
"Find him and deliver this letter. The young man is unable to read, so I ask that you read the letter
to him."

Falaster said, "Certainly," in a tone of confusion.

"Thank you," said Pariah. "It would mean a lot to me."

Understanding dawned in Falaster's face. "It would be my pleasure," he assured her.

They exited to the hall to see Ryland already coming out of his room with his belongings. They
made their way down the hall and outside. As they exited the House of Rest, Pariah saw Rowan
hurrying over from the Emerald Door and waving to attract their attention. She rushed up, a little
out of breath.

"We left your stuff in the room," Pariah said.

"Okay," Rowan acknowledged. She held up her left arm. "So, here it is."

The four of them gathered around to stare at the metal arm. "That's magnificent," said Farima.
"Very nice workmanship," said Falaster.

The device was made of dark steel and looked very much like a normal, albeit metal, hand sticking
out of her sleeve. Pariah had been expecting something bulky and crude, but this was not that
different from a lightly armored gauntlet. "It bends at the elbow!" she said in surprise.

"Yes," Rowan said with a big smile, demonstrating. "And the fingers all move independently as
well. I mean it's a bit slow." She opened and closed her fist sluggishly. "That's as fast as I can make
it move, but that's still so much better than before. And he said it's kind of fragile. A hard blow
could break the mechanism, so he said it would be dangerous to use a shield or hit someone. I
mean, not that I plan to hit anyone."

"With a metal fist?" Pariah said. "I mean you have to hit someone!"

Rowan chuckled. "It was kind of a rush job. He said he could do better if he had a month, so maybe
I'll get it improved when we get back. He gave me a little booklet of instructions..."

"Oooh," said Pariah. She had been voraciously reading anything she could get her hands on.

Rowan smiled and continued, "...that I figured I'd give to you to read. And he gave me some tools.
I know none of us know much about machinery, but you know your way around a lock. I figure
that's probably the closest we have to an expert, so maybe if I have problems you can tinker with
it?"

"I guess," Pariah said uncertainly. "I mean I can poke around."

"He said the little booklet tells you what you need to know."

"Well, let's hope we don't need that."

"Is it purely mechanical?" asked Farima with interest.

"No, he said there is some magic involved as well. Oh, that reminds me," she said, looking towards
The Hearth. "I want to say a quick prayer to Gond before we leave. And I have to grab my things.
You guys go ahead. I'll catch up." She hurried towards the dining hall. Pariah was glad to see her in
such high spirits.

The rest of them continued towards one of the towers. Falaster led them up the long spiral stairs to
the top, as Sylvira had instructed. Pariah didn't know why she wanted to meet them up there, and
Falaster wouldn't say.

They were all out of breath by the time they exited the door at the top onto the flat roof of the
tower. Pariah was relieved to see that Lythienne was already there speaking to Sylvira. Lythienne
smiled a greeting at them as they grew close. "So," Pariah said. "Are you here to wish us luck
or...?"

With a distinct lack of enthusiasm, Lythienne said, "I have decided I will go with you."

"Great!" Pariah said and stepped forward to give her a hug. Farima gave Lythienne a patrician pat
on her shoulder, which was as affectionate as she tended to get.

"It's a little early to celebrate," Lythienne said firmly. "Let's wait until we have all returned safely."

"I want to thank you," Sylvira said to Lythienne emphatically. Then, realizing she might be
misunderstood, said, "I don't mean for going to Elturel, although that too, but for this." She waved
an envelope she was holding.

In response to the group's inquiring looks, Lythienne said, "I have agreed to donate my brother's
correspondence to Candlekeep. I've given her a letter to my parents asking them to give her a box I
entrusted to them long ago. They do not know what is inside and," she turned to Sylvira, "I would
rather that they didn't know."

"Certainly," Sylvira said.

"May I read it when we get back?" asked Ryland hesitantly. "The letter from your brother, I mean."

"Well," Sylvira said slowly, "I think we probably are going to limit access to-"

"Yes," said Lythienne emphatically. "I think Ryland will have earned the right to read the letter
when we come back from Elturel."

Sylvira paused and then said, "Of course, you are right. Yes, I will make arrangements for you to
be to be on the list of those with permission to see the document."

Pariah finally took the chance to look around at the roof of the tower. It was bare, and a crescent
wooden platform stretched out from the edge of the roof. The surface of the platform was
crisscrossed with deep gouges, and it looked out on a breathtaking view of the sea.

She heard the door open and she turned to see two monks exiting onto the roof, carrying the
group's weapons. She spotted her sword and couldn't help reaching out even though the monks
were still far away. A shadow formed around her hand and she felt the leather-wrapped hilt in her
palm. The shadow extended and slowly the rapier took shape. She brandished it in front of her,
feeling whole for the first time in days.

"Show off," Lythienne teased.

Pariah thought the monks were looking at her with disapproval. "Hey, I'm leaving," she said to
them. "I'm allowed."

The monks went to each of the visitors and offered them their weapons. Pariah took the empty
scabbard from the one who approached her and slipped the blade into it before strapping the belt
around her waist.

Sylvira was gazing into the sky. "Ah, there is your ride now."

Confused, Pariah looked up to see what she was staring at. Five shapes had launched from the roof
of an even taller tower across the courtyard, this one with some kind of construction on top if it.
She couldn't tell what the shapes were but she realized that was the tower where she had seen
movement when they had entered the keep. "What is..." she wondered aloud.

"I think those are..." started Farima.

"Griffons?" Ryland gushed. "Are we going to ride griffons?" He suddenly sounded like the teenage
boy he was.

The figures got larger and Pariah could make out their forms more clearly. She had heard of them,
but honestly hadn't been sure if they were real or a myth. These were very definitely real and
exactly as described in stories: the rear bodies of lions and the front bodies of eagles with enormous
wingspans. Each of them bore a saddle and a rider. Their giant wings buffeted the group as the five
griffons alit heavily on the platform, talons as long as her arm digging new scratches into the
wood.

The bird heads darted around curiously, examining the people in front of them as well as the keep
itself, while their riders dismounted. Pariah felt her stomach fluttering. "I've barely ridden a horse,"
she said nervously. "I'm not sure I'm ready to mount something like that and let it carry me into the
air. What if I fall off?"

"It'll be fine," said Sylvira dismissively. "Just hang on. They are smarter than horses. They know
where they are going. They'll head straight to the tower, no problem."

"What in the Hells?" came Rowan's voice. Pariah turned to see she had just come through the door.
"That's our ride?" she asked, both excitement and fear in her voice.

"Yes, yes," Sylvira said impatiently. "There are straps on the saddles for your belongings, and
others for yourself. The attendants will help you load them and climb into place. Don't worry, they
don't attack people. Let's go! Let's go!" She clapped her hands.

Pariah started to move towards the griffons but felt a hand on her shoulder. As the others moved
off, Sylvira pulled her aside. She was surrounded by an air of discomfort.

"Something occurred to me last night," Sylvira said hesitantly, "and I figured I should say
something, one tiefling to another." She pursed her lips. "Look, I've never felt I should apologize
for what I look like. It shouldn't matter, right? I know some of us hide, but we shouldn't have to. It's
not..." She sighed. "But you aren't going to just a city. It's a city in the Nine Hells. It's a city that
has certainly attracted the attention of the locals. It could be a problem."

Pariah stared at her in confusion, and after a moment said, "Huh?"

Sylvira looked frustrated that she wasn't taking the hint. Carefully she said, "The residents of
Elturel may not at this precise moment in time be very receptive to people with...horns and a tail."

Pariah was stunned. "Oh," she said after a moment. "Oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense."

"I'm sorry," Sylvira said with genuine feeling. "You told me that you can disguise yourself, and
hold that disguise for a long time."

"Yes, of course. Look, don't worry. You're right. I mean it's not like you hurt my feelings or
anything." Okay, it hurt her feelings a little bit, but she knew Sylvira was right. "Now or in the
tower?"

"You can wait until you are at the tower."

"All right. I'll be sure to change my appearance before we leave for Elturel."

"I think that would be best," she said, embarrassed. "So, well, good luck."

"Thanks," Pariah said. Backpack in hand, she headed towards the griffons. Her four companions
had already selected their mounts so she headed to the last one. It eyed her carefully and she tried
not to seem to prey-like as she approached. It was much bigger up close, bigger than a horse. The
man waiting by it took her bag and strapped it to the beast. When he was done, she carefully put a
foot in the stirrup and swung herself onto its back. There were no reins but, as Sylvira had pointed
out, there were straps to secure the riders like the cargo they were. As the attendant strapped her in
securely, Pariah felt a little less nervous about riding this thing.

"Everyone ready?" Sylvira called up. They all signaled that they were and the attendants backed
off. Sylvira called out something in a language Pariah couldn't understand and the griffons turned
and lined up along the platform. Sylvira called out another command and, one by one, the beasts
spread their wings and leapt off the platform. Pariah's was third and she couldn't help but cry out as
it plummeted towards the ground. Then, with a fierce downbeat of its wings, it caught the air and
began to rise. Pariah gripped the handles on the saddle until her fingers were white and clenched
her teeth against the scream she felt bubbling up inside her. Her stomach was flipping around and
she was afraid her breakfast was going to end up all over the feathered neck in front of her.

The griffons easily cleared the wall and rose above the ocean until they were flying along just
below the clouds. The ride became smoother as their altitude topped out, the griffons beating their
wings only occasionally to maintain their glide. Pariah's terror started to ebb and she was able to
enjoy the amazing sight of the ocean stretching to the horizon and the large, rocky islands that
passed below.

The griffons flew abreast of each other, Pariah's on the right end of the line. Flying next to her
about fifty feet off was Lythienne and beyond her were the others. Lythienne had an enormous grin
on her face. She called out something that was swallowed up by the wind. Pariah shouted, "What? I
can't hear you!" Lythienne gave a large shrug back, apparently not being able to hear her either,
and went back to enjoying her flight.

Pariah never completely relaxed, but she grew less anxious. The ride was smoother than a horse
and she supposed she could see how someone might enjoy this. For now, though, she was itching
to feel the earth beneath her feet again.

The trip stretched on. Sylvira had said that the tower was twenty miles away, but it was hard to
gauge the speed of the griffons. From the wind tearing across her face, she could they were
certainly traveling much faster than a galloping horse, and the creatures showed no sign of tiring.
She watched the ocean hoping to see some sign of a tower, but the islands became fewer and
farther between until there was only open water ahead.

Suddenly the griffon started to beat its wings powerfully, gaining altitude. Pariah looked up and
was surprised to see that, although their destination was a tower on an island, this small chunk of
rocky land was floating in the sky. She saw no windows or doors in the wall, only a few holes
riddling the tower's cone-shaped roof. The griffon headed for one of those holes and Pariah felt her
panic increasing. The hole was too small! They'd never fit! She braced herself for impact when the
griffon folded its wings in tight and shot through the opening, barely clearing it, and then snapped
its wings open again to slow itself down. Pariah was thrown forward against the griffon's feathered
neck by the sudden deceleration and she heard the scrape of talons on stone as it skidded to a halt
just a few feet from the far part of the roof.

She heard the other griffons skidding to a halt as well. She looked behind to see a stone floor
marked by the parallel scratches of her mount's talons. The only other feature of this top floor was a
staircase leading down.

"That was amazing!" shouted Ryland.

"It was quite the adventurous landing," chuckled Lythienne.

"Not one I want to make a second time," said Rowan. Pariah looked over and Rowan looked as
green as she felt. Farima, on the other hand, simply looked stoic as usual.

Pariah was shaking as she undid her straps and clambered to the ground. She resisted the urge to lie
down on the hard stone, embracing the solidity. "I don't think flying is for me," she said, trying to
keep her voice steady.
"Nobody is here," said Farima, looking around the empty space.

"I hear movement downstairs," Lythienne said, her head cocked to one side.

"Let's unload our stuff," suggested Pariah. "I wouldn't want them flying off with it."

It didn't take long to unpack the griffons. As soon as luggage was unloaded, the animals settled
down on the floor to rest. The group shrugged into their backpacks and then headed downstairs to
see if they could find this mage.

The stairway spiraled down to the level below, which was a circular chamber cluttered with
alchemical equipment, books, scrolls, and strange devices of unknown purpose. No, "cluttered"
was the wrong word. Sylvira's lab had been cluttered; this place looked like it had been hit by a
tornado. There wasn't even a hint of organization. Many of the objects were broken, and Pariah
spotted at least six half-eaten plates of food of varying age.

Adding to the disaster motif were the open flames. The room was lit by random objects that were
on fire. Pariah could see that the flames were unnatural, anchored to but not burning the items
beneath.

"There you are!" a high-pitched voice squealed from beneath the debris. A small shape crawled out
from under the table and straightened up to reveal a tiny brown-skinned gnome with disheveled
orange hair streaked with white. He sported a beard below a long, drooping nose and, unlike his
hair, his beard was carefully trimmed to a sharp point and appeared to be waxed. He was holding a
tuning fork made of reddish metal.

He turned and saw the newcomers still on the stairs and shrieked in surprise. "Who are you?" he
demanded, pointing the fork at them like a weapon.

Lythienne was at the front of the group and said, "Sylvira sent us. We are here to-"

"Oh, well, why didn't you say so," he interrupted her. "I'm Norkam. Come in, come in. If you are
still willing to go through with this madness then I'm almost ready."

Lythienne glanced back at the others. "We are supposed to be meeting someone called Traxigor."

"I am Traxigor," he said impatiently

"I thought you were Norkam."

"Yes," he said, growing increasingly agitated. "I'm also Copperbowl, Ribbles, Wik and Lemongut.
And a dozen or so more. When you live a long time, you pick up a lot of names. You'll realize that
when you get older."

"I'm 257," Lythienne said dryly.

"Ha!" Traxigor snorted. "Still a child. Wait until your fifth century. Then you'll understand what I
mean."

Before she could reply he turned and called out, "Lulu! Wake up! They're here!"

A pile of blankets in the corner shifted and bounding out from it came a small elephant about two
feet long and covered in golden fur that glowed in the firelight. She had gold-feathered wings that
started to beat rapidly, almost like a hummingbird's, and she rose into the air to examine the
newcomers, emitting a pleasant trumpeting sound. "Hi, everybody," she exclaimed in a bubbly,
girlish voice. "I'm Lulu. I'm so happy to meet you all!"

Her gaze zeroed in on Pariah and she backed away a bit. In a stage whisper, she said to Traxigor,
"Is that a devil?"

"No," he assured her. "She's a tiefling."

Lulu flew forward and hovered in front of Pariah. "Oh, I've heard of tieflings," she chirped. "But
they can be evil. Are you evil?"

Pariah stammered out, "No, I'm-"

"Oooh, your hand is shiny," Lulu interrupted her, flying over to look at Rowan. "Why is your hand
shiny?"

Rowan said, "It's made of metal."

"Why is it metal? Humans aren't made of metal."

"I lost my arm. This is a replacement."

As Lulu flew over to chatter at Ryland, Pariah started to say, "What-" and then remembering her
mistake with Little One changed her question to, "Who is she?"

The question had been directed at Traxigor, but it was Farima who answered in a voice filled with
wonder, "She's a hollyphant. They are beings of the Upper Planes."

Lulu darted over to hover in front of her. "You know of us? Lots of mortals don't know of us."

Farima bowed slightly and said something in a language Pariah didn't understand. Lulu emitted an
excited trumpeting sound and replied in the same language.

"She's so cute," Lythienne cooed.

Lulu zipped over to her. In an angry, but still adorable, voice she said, "I am not cute! I'm fierce
and a terrifying opponent of evil!"

Lythienne was clearly suppressing a laugh, and Farima said quickly to Lulu, "Please forgive the
others. They do not know the history of the hollyphants, and their important role in defeating
powerful evil forces." To Lythienne she said firmly, "Please apologize."

Lythienne seemed confused as to whether Farima was being serious or just humoring Lulu.
However, she put a look of contrition on her face and said, "My apologies, Lulu. I meant no
disrespect."

"That's OK," Lulu said brightly, her anger gone instantly. "Lots of people make that mistake."

"Let's get this disaster over with," Traxigor interrupted suddenly, and then he scurried off to
disappear down a staircase hidden behind another pile of rubbish.

"Pleasant fellow," Rowan said.

"He's scared," Pariah said. "Didn't you see his hands shaking?" She had felt waves of fear radiating
off of him.

"I hadn't noticed," Rowan admitted. "Well, I guess 'scared' is a pretty reasonable response, all
things considered."

The group followed the gnome down the staircase to the room below, with Lulu fluttering about
them trumpeting with excitement and occasionally making random comments about the visitors.
This room was nearly bare. Three statues -- a fish, a bust of a bearded man, and a fruit tree --
burned with the unnatural flames they had seen above, illuminating the room dimly. Two sets of
shelves held a few magical accoutrements. Between them was a table on which was laid out five
leather satchels and a small box. Most of the room was dominated by a large magic circle. Traxigor
was on his knees chalking a symbols along the edge of the circle, the tip of his tongue sticking out
from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

"Those are for you," he said, pointing at the table without taking his eyes off his work.

Pariah went over to the table. The satchels were about a hand's span high and twice that wide. They
were made of brightly dyed leather stitched together seemingly at random, and yet she felt like she
could almost see an image in the pattern. She opened one up and was disappointed to see it was
empty, but then she hesitated. She couldn't see the bottom of the bag. She angled the bag to the
light from the nearest flame and still saw nothing but darkness. She reached in and her hand went
well past where the bottom of the bag should be. She was past her elbow before she touched the
leather inside.

"They're bigger on the inside!" she said in surprise.

"Obviously," Traxigor said in a withering tone.

Pariah started tossing bags to the others. As Farima caught hers, she said, "I have heard of these.
Objects inside have much less weight as well. They are prized among travelers."

Pariah opened the small box. Inside were five single earrings, each set with a golden brown stone.
"And what are these?" she asked.

Traxigor said, "Sending earrings. Wear 'em. Squeeze the stone and talk. You'll be heard by anyone
else wearing one."

"How far is the range?" asked Farima.

"Dunno," he grunted. "A few hundred feet. Maybe more, maybe less."

They took some time to transfer some of the items from their backpacks to the new bags. Drawing
items from the bag was odd -- it was almost like an object wasn't there until it was needed, but after
a pause it was right in your hand no matter where you reached.

After that, Pariah used an illusion spell to summon a mirror in front of her and began changing her
appearance to a more human version of herself.

"What are you doing?" Rowan asked in curiosity.

"Sylvira pointed out that the residents of Elturel might not want to see someone who looks like a
devil."

"Oh," Rowan said in surprise. "Oh," she said again as the light dawned. "Yeah, that makes sense. I
guess I just don't see the horns anymore."

Pariah shot her a grateful smile and went back to her work.
Throughout this, Lulu and Farima had been chatting in that strange language. Pariah had been
focused on the mirror so hadn't been listening and hadn't heard Farima's tone change. Suddenly the
woman said, "Listen up! It seems Lulu is more than just a hollyphant." She paused dramatically
and then said, "She was Zariel's hollyphant."

There was a stunned silence in the room. Farima said to Lythienne, "The golden mammoth you
showed when you told us the story of your brother. That was Lulu," she nodded at the hollyphant.

Lythienne stared at Lulu. "My how she's...changed."

"This is their natural form," Farima said. "Hollyphants can transform into that larger form,
generally for battle."

"Then she can tell us what happened to Zariel," Ryland blurted out. "What happened to Zariel after
the Hellriders left."

"Sadly, no. Her earliest clear memory is waking up alone in the Avernian wastelands. Her life
before that is mostly a mystery of a few fragmented images. She remembers the angel Zariel." She
emphasized that word with a significant look at the others. "They were very close friends. She
remembers accompanying her in battles. She has a vague memory of charging into a portal at the
head of an army. However she does not know what happened during the battle, nor what happened
to Zariel."

"How did she end up here?" Pariah asked, pointing at the floor to emphasize her point.

Lulu was the one who answered. "When I woke up I knew I was in Avernus. I kind of remembered
something about a battle but I guess we must have lost because nobody else was around. I looked
for Zariel for a long time but all I found were icky devils. When I got to the River Styx, I followed
it out of Hell hoping to get to Mount Celestia, because I thought Zariel might be there, but that
wasn't so easy either. I went to a lot of places and finally ended up in a castle called the Nexus
where there were lots of portals, but still couldn't get to Heaven. But there was a portal to
Neverwinter, and I remember me and Zariel had been somewhere around Elturel, so I went there. I
didn't find Zariel, but Sylvira found me. She said she might be able to help with my memory and
took me to Candlekeep, but that stupidhead Jezebel is a big jerk so I came to live with Traxigor
instead. But now Traxigor says Zariel is in Avernus so we can go find her and rescue her and we
can be together again!"

There was a heavy silence as the group digested all of that. It seemed clear to Pariah that Lulu
didn't realize Zariel was now an archdevil.

Suddenly Lulu was in her face. "Zariel is not a devil!" she chirped angrily. "That's a bad thing to
say. You're a meanie for saying it!"

"I didn't say anything," Pariah said in surprise, desperately trying to remember if she had
unconsciously muttered something out loud.

"You thought it. I heard you."

Pariah looked over at Farima, who said, "Some of the Outer Planes beings can read minds. It is
actually rare to find one who speaks Common as Lulu does."

"Say you're sorry!" demanded Lulu.

Pariah looked back at the hollyphant. "I am sorry, Lulu. I didn't mean for you to hear it like that.
But a lot's happened. It's kind of a long story." Her mind swirled as she tried to think how to
summarize Zariel's history quickly.

"Let me," said Lythienne, stepping forward. "And perhaps Ryland as well, as he knows how Lulu
feels right now. Lulu, come over here. Let us explain our understanding of what has happened to
your friend."

Lulu reluctantly followed Lythienne and Ryland to another part of the chamber, where they sat on
the floor and Lythienne started to tell her the story.

Farima said in a low voice to the others, "Lulu intends to come with us to Avernus, hoping to find
Zariel."

"Is that such a good idea?" asked Rowan. "For her to come along? It's going to be dangerous."

"Do not let her child-like form and attitude fool you," Farima said. "Hollyphants are capable in
battle, especially against forces of the Lower Planes. She was correct when she said she was fierce
and terrifying, especially when she changes into her larger form."

"A giant mammoth could be helpful," Pariah admitted.

Farima hedged for a moment and then said, "Unfortunately, she is unable to change form or call on
many of her powers. It might be related to the memory loss, or it might be a separate problem, but
she does still have some of her ability to fight evil. She was quite adamant about coming with us."

The group watched uncomfortably as Lythienne and Ryland told the story. Pariah could feel the
emotional brightness that radiated from Lulu fade as she grew increasingly agitated. She made a
loud trumpeting noise, but this one was jarring and grated on their nerves. Lythienne reached out to
hold Lulu against her and comfort her.

"Done!" said Traxigor, rising from his knees. He looked over at Lulu. "What's going on here?"

He apparently hadn't been paying attention to the conversation. "We are telling her about Zariel's
fall," said Lythienne.

"Oh," he said. "We had hoped to spare her that. Well, I guess she would have found out
eventually." He walked over and reached out to scratch Lulu's head. "Come on, dear. We are ready
to go. I need your help."

She turned sad eyes on him. "Is it true?" she asked in a broken voice.

"I'm afraid so."

"Then we have to save her!" Lulu insisted.

"Well, we'll have to see what's going on. We'll find out what's happened to her, but we have to save
those other people first, okay?"

Lulu made a sad trumpeting noise and extricated herself from Lythienne's arms. Traxigor turned to
the rest of the group. "There's still time to call this insanity off," he said, a hint of pleading in his
voice. "Think of something else, yes? Anyone looking to back out?"

The group eyed one another. Farima said to him, "I think we are all committed to this endeavor."

His face fell. "Come on, then," he said in disappointment. "Into the circle. Join hands."

Everyone moved into position and reached out to take each others' hands. Traxigor took his station,
 muttering, "Madness...pure madness," and pulled out the tuning fork he had found previously. He
mumbled something and then flicked it with a finger, causing it to ring with a pure tone. Still
holding it between two fingers he took Ryland's hand. With his other hand he held one of Lulu's
front feet; Lythienne held the other.

Traxigor started to recite the spell. His voice started to shake as the magical energies gathered, and
Pariah could feel his apprehension growing stronger. She was suddenly struck with the enormity,
the utter absurdity, of what they were doing. She wanted to call out for him to stop but she gritted
her teeth against the urge. She scanned the others and it looked like the same realization had hit the
rest of them. Lythienne opened her mouth, but then the magic took hold. Pariah felt herself pulled
in every direction as the world around her disappeared.

Chapter End Notes

Geez, finally those lazy PCs are going to Hell. I hope the extended Candlekeep stay
didn't put anyone to sleep. It was a great opportunity to explore a lot of character
development. Lots of action coming up.

Those of you familiar with the module might be asking, "But why isn't Traxigor an
otter?" And my response is, "Because this isn't a fucking Disney movie." I know a lot
of people like the talking otter in a waistcoat, but I just found it kind of ridiculous,
especially since you already get a cheerful flying elephant if you want a Disney
character.

The different version of Lulu's past is one of the details I've taken from the
Alexandrian Remix. Unfortunately, Lulu has proven to be problematic as a character
and one of the big reasons my writing has slowed down. I can't figure out what to do
with her and, as of the date of this post, I'm still struggling with it. One change I've
made to her is that she now speaks Common. Trying to conduct conversations via
telepathy was too awkward to write. However this means I've had to rewrite large
chunks of chapters starting with this one.

It may seem like overkill to give each person a Bag of Holding, but I'm using Active
Inventory from Darker Dungeons. Bags of Holding are much smaller under those
rules, holding only the equivalent of a suit of medium armor or three longswords. It
extends a person's carrying capacity by less than 1/3.

The communication earrings are inspired by "Critical Role" and have no particular
stats. The range is "whatever I need it to be at the moment". They are plot devices
rather than actual magic items. I've wanted them ever since Dead Three when Pariah
and Lythienne were scouting ahead with no way of communicating with the others.

I didn't originally plan to have Rowan replace her arm. The idea of a mechanical one
came up a few chapters back and I got to thinking about it, especially considering
certain giant chains that show up later in the story. The following is some boring
details about my thought process.

I did some research and historically there have been some fairly sophisticated
prosthetics, most notably the Iron Hand of Gotz von Berlichingen. However these
prosthetics all assumed only a hand or part of the lower arm was missing. Rowan's
amputation is above her elbow and that makes things more complicated.

Of course, in this world we have magic. I know that the Eberron rules have prosthetics
as common magical items, and I believe Tasha's included them as well. However
common magical items are 50-100 gp per the DMG, and that seems way too cheap to
effectively give you a new arm.

There is a formula for NPC magical services that floats around in places like
https://rpg.stackexchange.com/questions/109343/how-much-should-npcs-charge-for-
spells-cast-as-services-to-pcs. According to that formula, a Regenerate spell would
cost 490 gp -- call it 500 gp. A prosthetic that mimics normal function should cost the
same.

I considered that the DMG says you can craft magical items at 25 gp/day and they are
at Candlekeep for a tenday. Let's assume the craftsman isn't busy and can spend the
entire tenday working on it and make a 250 gp item. OK so we have an item that is
half the cost of the spell, that means it should have some limitations. Say she still can't
use a shield and has a -1 on any skill check that requires two hands, like climbing. That
seems like a reasonable limitation. Some day she could spend a full 500 gp and get a
prosthetic that completely mimics the function of a normal arm.

Why, yes, I do overthink things. Why do you ask?

 A Damned City
Chapter Summary

The party arrives in the devil-tormented city of Elturel, escorting the scholar Traxigor
in the hopes that he can find out the information needed to free the people in the city.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Before the world finished shifting into reality, Pariah felt the acrid air burning in her nostrils and
leaving the taste of sulfur in her mouth. A gentle but hot wind blew across her skin. She could hear
a roaring sound but she couldn't quite place what it was. A smoky and red-tinged image slowly
formed in front of her.

The group was still in a circle, but they were now standing at the intersection of two streets lit by a
dim crimson light. An array of buildings stretched out before them, many of the structures
collapsed into piles of rubble. Pariah could see numerous trails of smoke and a few fires in the
distance. She looked up into a sky that was red and streaked with clouds of black ash. She heard
the crackle of lightning and saw a flash to her left. She turned to see the sky was dominated by a
black sphere. Blue-white energy crawled across its surface and, as she watched, another bolt of
lighting speared towards the ground, smashing a building into rubble.

Pariah turned to look at the rest of the city. In the distance, the ground rose from right to left into a
hill, and on a bluff on the far left of the hill stood a castle. It was half crumbled as though a massive
hand had swatted down from the sky, smashing it. She turned back to the others. Lythienne had her
hand over her mouth as she gazed around in horror. Rowan and Farima didn't look quite so affected,
though she thought they might still be in shock. Lulu was making quiet whining noises as she took
in the sights. Traxigor's eyes were wide as he muttered, "This is madness," over and over like it
was a protective charm.

Ryland fell to his knees in the street, his jaw open, his face pale in the reddish light. Pariah tried to
imagine seeing Wyrm's Crossing like this, a familiar place suddenly alien and dangerous, and still
couldn't imagine how much of an impact this was having on him. The destruction of the city was
so much worse than she had been expecting.

Pariah scanned the destroyed buildings, looking for enemies or other dangers. She reached out and
summoned the sword at her side directly into her hand. She called forth the cold along its blade,
and a layer of frost coated her armor as her magic protected her.

She glanced over at Ryland, still on his knees, still staring blankly towards the ruined castled.
"Ryland," she said but he didn't respond. "Ryland" she said more forcefully, "We need to go!" and
that reached him. His eyes focused and shifted towards her. He took a shuddering breath, stood,
and drew his own swords.

He nodded towards the castle. "I guess that's the High Hall," he said in an uncertain voice. "I can't
even recognize the city, but this must be Maidensbridge Street." He furrowed his brow. "We'll need
to get to Torm's Blade, the bridge across the ravine, to get to the hall." He pointed down the street
with his longsword.
Pariah looked at the rest of them. "Are we all ready to go?"

The others slowly shook themselves out of their shock. Farima mumbled a spell and a shimmering
field cloaked her body. Lythienne drew a silver tanto, a type of single-edged shortsword she had
trained with. She had given the silver dagger to Rowan, saying she was more comfortable with the
tanto she had purchased in Baldur's Gate before they left. She said, "I am glad Evaelisar didn't live
to see his happen to his city."

Ryland nodded gloomily. "I wish I hadn't."

Rowan gripped the coin around her neck in her right hand and put her metal hand on Lythienne's
shoulder. She mumbled a prayer and a gentle glow appeared around Lythienne briefly before
fading. Pariah could see just a hint of it remained, a nearly imperceptible aura with tendrils that
connected to Rowan. Rowan smiled. "I didn't know if the divine energy of my prayers would work
through the metal of my arm. I'm glad to see it does."

Pariah looked at the hollyphant. "Lulu, are you okay?"

Lulu turned at the sound of her name. "I remember something," she said thoughtfully in her child's
voice. "Something familiar, but not something good. I know I've been here. Not this city, but this
place. I remember the sky and the air and more. This isn't a good place. We have to find Zariel!"
She didn't sound afraid, just determined.

"We'll do our best," Pariah said. She turned to the wizard, who was still glassy-eyed. "Traxigor?"
she said. "You still with us?"

"Madness," he muttered, but nodded.

Suddenly, the ground started to shake. Pariah felt her stomach drop like she was falling, but just for
an instant. They all struggled to stay on their feet as the quake ripped through the city. Pariah
looked around to see if any of the nearby rubble was going to shift, but all it held. After a brief
moment, the tremor subsided.

They paused to see if another tremor was going to come, but nothing happened. Pariah looked at
Ryland and gestured down the street. "Lead the way."

Ryland started walking, Pariah on his left and Lythienne on his right. Traxigor came after them,
Lulu fluttering beside him. Rowan and Farima were in the back. Pariah carefully scanned the
buildings as they passed, looking and listening for any threats. In the distance she saw flying
figures, some humanoid and some not. The creatures occasionally flew down below the buildings,
possibly preying on something in the streets.

She listened to the noise that surrounded them and thought that it sounded like a distant battle. She
could hear bellows and roars, and possibly shouted orders. Once she thought she saw two of the
flying figures grappling, and then they dropped out of sight. She remembered Sylvira saying
something about an invasion of demons in the area and wondered if that's what she was hearing.
However, she couldn't see any evidence of battle in front of them and couldn't tell where the sound
was coming from.

Something came charging around a corner, and she raised her sword in a ready position as her left
hand prepared a spell. She stopped as she realized this was no fiend. It was a woman, disheveled
brown hair streaming behind her, running down the street in obvious terror. She had a longbow and
quiver on her back and two toddler boys in her arms. The woman hesitated as she saw the figures
before her and started to turn off to duck down an alley between two buildings.
"Here!" Farima called out, her voice carrying down the street. "Come this way! We will protect
you." The woman glanced at them, looked over her shoulder, and then changed course to run
towards them. Just then, three other figures rounded the corner, and these definitely weren't human.

"Talona's tits," Pariah breathed. She knew they'd be facing devils, and she knew they'd be in their
home territory, but once again the reality was more terrible than she had been prepared for.

These three were similar to the devil in the prison under the villa. They were large, standing a bit
taller than a typical human man, and muscles rippled under their scaly skins. They were mostly
naked except for a few badly tanned skins or bits of metal armor. They wielded long, black-bladed
pole arms and Pariah remembered that those weapons inflicted festering wounds on their targets.
From each of their chins, spiky tentacles as long as their arms writhed in agitation as though
seeking something to tear apart. She had read about the denizens of the Nine Hells in preparation
for this trip, and she knew they were called bearded devils. Unlike the prison guard, these devils
had been whipped into a blood frenzy, nearly berserk as they chased after the woman, and that
made them seem far more dangerous.

Pariah heard Traxigor shriek in terror. She turned, fearing an ambush from behind, but there were
no enemies there. "No!" he yelled. "This is insane!" He turned to them and said, "You are all
insane!" With wild eyes, he stammered out arcane words. Magical forces gathered around him,
Pariah felt the world hiccup strangely, and then he just wasn't there.

Pariah didn't know what had just happened, but she didn't have time to think about it right at that
moment. She turned back forward to see the woman had nearly reached them with the devils close
on her heels. Suddenly, one of the boys slipped from her arms and fell to the street. Her momentum
carried her another couple of steps before she could skid to a halt and turn back towards the
toddler. The lead devil already had his glaive raised and, with a triumphant bellow, brought it
slashing down towards the child that lay in the street, terrified.

Pariah rushed forward, throwing herself into the blade's path. The edge slashed brutally across her
hip and, though it didn't break through the armor, pain lanced into the joint. She felt a sickness
inside her as dark energy burned around the impact site. Reflexively, cold energy lashed out and
engulfed the devil. Trying to stay focused, she managed to plunge the point of her rapier into his
upper arm, and he glared and growled at her.

She was focused on the enemy in front of her. She was vaguely aware of Lulu flying over to shield
the child, and of his mother grabbing him and dragging him further back. One of Ryland's blades
bit into the devil's side, and a cloud of spectral coins slashed at his head.

Another devil came up on her left and Lulu quickly moved to block him with her small body,
shouting at him in words Pariah didn't understand. His chin tentacles raked at the hollyphant,
eliciting a squeal of pain. The last devil came up on the other side of Pariah's opponent. Lythienne
moved to block him as he tried to move past, and Pariah heard a pained grunt from her as his
glaive connected.

Pariah was surprised when Farima darted into the rubble of the building to their left, stumbling
over the debris to come up to the side of the devils. She recited a brief incantation in a strong voice
and a bright blue flash appeared as a bolt of lightning speared through all three devils and smashed
through the wall of the building on the other side of the street. The devil that had tried to kill the
child collapsed, and the other two were badly hurt.

The devil to Pariah's left roared at Farima. Lulu and Pariah both lunged forward, trying to distract it
as it turned towards the sorcerer, but it ignored the wounds from Lulu's tusks and Pariah's sword as
it turned its anger on the spellcaster who had injured it. Farima looked terrified as she clumsily
backed across the rubble. Inexperienced with melee combat, she was unable to dodge either the
whip of his beard of tentacles nor the stroke of his glaive. She fled back behind the group as Lulu
moved up to block the devil from pursuing her.

Meanwhile, Ryland along with Rowan's cloud of coins had moved to attack the other devil and
help Lythienne. Pariah couldn't take her attention of the opponent in front of her, but she heard the
elf say in her magical voice, "Lythienne stood in defiance of the devil's assault, willing the poison
in her wounds away."

The dark energy in her own wound was sucking at her life force, but she continued to push her
attack against the devil. She saw an opening and plunged the point of her blade into the notch
above the devil's breastbone, piercing its throat and drawing dark healing energy out of its dying
body.

Pariah gritted her teeth against the pain in her hip and moved to engage the last devil. Its fury had
faded to be replaced with a look of apprehension, but it was surrounded and couldn't flee. The red
light glinted off the silver edges of Ryland's swords and Lythienne's tanto as they struck, and bolts
of energy lanced out from Farima's staff. Pariah came around behind him, catching a glimpse of the
woman who had been fleeing, standing tall now with her children at her feet. She had her bow out,
firing arrows at the devil, and Pariah could see the silver tips in the dim light. One pierced the
devil's chest, and that was all it could take. With a weak growl, it collapsed to the cobblestone
street.

Pariah surveyed the buildings around her while her hip throbbed. Rowan stepped forward and
muttered a prayer while she put a hand on the tiefling's injury. Pariah felt the pain and the sickness
fade as the energy flowed into her. Seeing that the structures around them were empty, it looked
like the combat was over.

"Thank you," the woman gushed, rushing up to Pariah. "Are you all right?"

Pariah gave her a weak smile. "I'm fine," she said. "How about all of you?"

"Frightened, but alive." The children were staring with hollow eyes at their mother. It was a look
Pariah had seen before in the Outer City, that point where you've been through so much you can't
even cry anymore. Rowan had moved off to attend to Lythienne, who had taken a bad gash to her
side.

"I'm Harkina," the woman offered. She gestured at the boys, "And these are Ezo and Brask."

"Pariah," she said absently, still scanning the buildings but looking for something else this time.

The others introduced themselves and, when they were done, Pariah called out, "Traxigor! It's over.
You can come out now." She waited but nothing moved. "Traxigor!" she shouted again.

"Maybe you shouldn't be yelling," Rowan cautioned over her shoulder, still attending to
Lythienne's wound. "We don't know what kind of things are roaming the streets."

"What happened to him?" asked Lythienne.

"I don't know," Pariah said, continuing to skim over the rubble around them for a sign of him. "He
said some spell and disappeared."

"I believe it was some kind of temporal magic," said Farima. "He may have either sped up time for
himself or slowed it down for others, giving him time to flee."
"Flee where?" Rowan asked "Back home?"

She shook her head. "No. Planar magic is difficult. Sylvira had said he would need another day
before he could take us back to the Material Plane."

"Back?" said Harkina, excitement in her voice. "You're from the living world? You can take us out
of here?"

The group exchanged glances in the heavy silence. "Not without him," Rowan said reluctantly.

A heavy gloom fell on the group as they realized that, unless they could find Traxigor, they were
trapped in Avernus. Through gritted teeth, Pariah said, "When we do find him again, I'm going to
punch him. A lot."

"Don't be silly," Lythienne said. "I'm much better with my fists than you. You hold him down. I'll
hit him."

A grim chuckle went through the group, lightening the mood not at all.

"Should we look for him?" asked Ryland.

"Where?" Lythienne asked, looking around. "He could be anywhere. I think our best bet is to
continue to High Hall and hope that is where he fled."

Pariah heard a giggle and turned to see Lulu cavorting in front of the boys. Their eyes were still
filled with despair, but they had smiles on their faces.

"What about you?" Pariah asked Harkina. "Would you like to come with us?"

"Could we?" she asked. "We've been hiding in the cellar of a tavern, where there were plenty of
provisions. However, the devils have been searching many of the buildings. They found us and,
thankfully, there was another exit. I grabbed my bow and we fled." She shook her head. "Again,
thank you. We wouldn't have been able to get away."

"What's been happening?" asked Ryland, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I'm from here but I
was outside the city when it fell."

She shook her head. "I don't know. We've mostly been hiding in the tavern. I know that the streets
are dangerous because of devils and undead."

"Undead?" asked Rowan.

The woman shrugged. "Yes, I think that's what they were. We've heard them but they hadn't found
us until today. We've seen no other survivors." She gave a heavy sigh. "When it happened, we were
in the dining room of the tavern. There was a terrible earthquake and the sky went dark. The tavern
keeper shoved me and my boys towards the basement stairs and yelled for the others to follow, but
the building collapsed just as we went downstairs. We were the only survivors."

She looked up at the dark orb hanging ominously in the red sky. "When I found the back exit, I
poked my head out to see what was happening. I saw that the Companion had turned into that evil
thing, and I went back inside. I was afraid for my sons. I had hoped we would be rescued in time. I
agree with the young man that the High Hall-" She broke off as she looked in the direction of the
shattered castle. "Helm protect us," she breathed. "What happened to the hall?"

Nobody had an answer. "Some of it still looks intact," said Ryland. "And there are crypts beneath
 for shelter. If any leadership is left, it will probably be there."

Harkina nodded. "Yes, I suppose you are right." She suddenly looked around, as though just now
realizing they were still standing in the street. "We should go," she said, fear creeping into her
voice.

"Lythienne and I will scout ahead," Pariah suggested. She tapped her earring. "We can keep in
touch this way. Ryland, you can tell us where to go."

"That seems wise," said Farima. "We will stay within visual distance in case you run into trouble."

Something had been bothering Pariah and she suddenly realized what it was. "Why didn't they
disappear?" she asked rhetorically, looking down at the corpses of the devils.

"Because we are on their plane of origin," said Farima. "Their bodies dissolve only when they are
killed on another plane, their souls reforming here. Since we have killed them here, they are dead
in truth, gone permanently."

"Good," Pariah said, spitting a wad of phlegm on one of the bodies. She picked up one of the
glaives. It was heavy, not her kind of weapon. "Are these magic?" she asked.

Farima reached out to take it from her and examine it. "I do not believe so," she said. "It appears
the festering effect from the wounds comes from the devils themselves."

Pariah looked over the bodies. The armor pieces were junk, but she realized they each had a pouch
hanging from their belts. Pouches generally meant money. She crouched down and grabbed one,
emptying its contents into her hand. They were tokens made of black stone. Most of them were
roughly oval in shape, about the size of her thumb, and inscribed with the portrait of a man. Along
the top was written in Infernal, "All Are Welcome". A couple of them were smaller, triangular and
inscribed with an eye.

"Are these money?" she wondered aloud. Baldur's Gate was a major trade center so it was common
to see coins from all over Faerûn, and these shared a certain similarity in design to the coinage
she'd seen. Nobody had an answer to her question. With a shrug, she slipped the sixteen tokens into
her pouch. At worst, they were nothing.

There was nothing else interesting about the bodies, so she stood back up. She sensed impatience
from the others; they were all restless to get to safety. "Let's go, then," she said, drawing her sword
again.

"This way," Ryland said, pointing down the road they had been following. "Follow it to the ravine
and then turn right. Follow the ravine until you get to the bridge across."

Pariah gave Lythienne a "what have we gotten ourselves into" look, and the two women started
moving slowly and carefully down the road, the dark bulk of the Companion looming ominously
over the city in front of them.

Chapter End Notes

I'm still struggling to get back into the rhythm after having to do all the revision for
Lulu. It took me a month to write Chapter 33, which I just finished a couple of days
ago. I have an idea of what the next few chapters are, but I need to get a bit more of a
lead. So I'm going to skip next week and I'll post Chapter 27 on Friday, April 8. I'm
likely to skip weeks now and then as I get caught up, but I'll always announce it ahead
of time.

I've mentioned this before, but I wish I'd been aware of Descent Into Avernus: The
Alexandrian Remix before I started this story. I looked at it a bit when trying to come
up with a reason to come to Avernus, but it's a pretty heavy lift to read it. However,
this is the point in my writing where I started to really look at it and start borrowing a
few of his ideas. It's to late to retcon all of the lore he adds into my story, so I'm going
to pick and choose the stuff I can.

As of their entrance into Hell, I've started using the Sanity system from my homebrew
rules. Basically, each character starts with a pool of Sanity points. Troubling events
such as meeting devils and undead, seeing mutilated bodies and rivers of blood, and of
course simply being in Hell, require Sanity saves that are based on current Sanity
points. You lose Sanity when you fail saves, and sometimes even when you succeed.
As your Sanity drops, Sanity saves become harder plus you start to pick up unusual
behaviors. If Sanity drops to 0, it's basically the same as HP dropping to zero -- you
start making saves, and if you fail 3 you are permanently insane and roll a new
character.

So far I had them make Sanity rolls when they first arrived and for the first encounter
with devils. They will have to make Sanity saves for each long rest to reflect the
ongoing pressure they are under plus the corrupting effects of the plane. The map is
useful, but yet another Sanity roll. They can restore Sanity with Lesser Restoration and
Greater Restoration spells.

I will tweak as I go, and of course if I feel someone should be crazy (or not) then that
will supersede what the dice say. Like any of this, it's meant to be a framework to
guide my writing rather than an inflexible system I have to follow.

The black stone tokens are from the remix. You'll hear more about them later.
 A Guarded Bridge
Chapter Summary

Abandoned by the wizard who was supposed to take them home, the group is now
trapped in the doomed city of Elturel. With nowhere else to go, they head for the High
Hall to find survivors.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Lythienne and Pariah reached another crossing. To the left, the road led to a large open plaza.
Pariah could see nothing in the area other than a few piles of scorched wood that looked like they
had once been market stalls. The pair continued past, moving slowly and scanning for dangers.

The noise of fighting grew louder as they advanced, but ahead she saw nothing except ravaged
buildings and no movement. Could the noise be an illusion? Could the apparently empty city ahead
be? She pushed on, her caution growing. They passed two more cross streets, both empty, before
reaching the edge of the ravine that crossed Elturel. She looked down into the crevice and
understood why they hadn't been able to see the battle.

The sides of the ravine dropped about a hundred feet and then stopped. The canyon presumably
had had a bottom when on Toril, but now it was just an open crack that split Elturel into two
pieces. Pariah stood on the edge and her head swam as she tried to make sense of what was below
them.

The city was floating in the air about five hundred feet above a wide and murky river that flowed
sluggishly roughly perpendicular to the chasm before them. Massive barges floated down the river,
carrying hordes of infernal troops. A variety of flying creatures harassed the barges, some diving in
to slash with claws and teeth, other standing off to fling spikes from their bodies or arrows from
bows. The creatures on the barges fought off the attackers and tried to propel the floating platforms
towards the shores.

Looking to her left down the ravine, she could see a shoreline. One of the barges had beached there
a tangle of countless horrifying creatures battled each other. The barges must be carrying the
invading demons and the flying creatures were devils. One of the facts she had gleaned from
reading about the Outer Planes was that the River Styx flowed across all the Lower Planes, from
the Abyss of demons to the Hells of devils, so it made sense it would be a path for invasion. She
guess the demons were trying to establish a beachhead among the defending devil army.

Far to her right she could see the bridge that was their goal, and she could see three figures standing
in the middle of the span. She could dimly see another bridge a few hundred feet beyond that one
and, down below, another shore that was also choked with battling fiends.

Suddenly, the ground started to shake as another tremor hit and she felt the ground beneath her
drop an inch or so. Panicked at the thought of the long fall in front of her, Pariah threw herself back
from the edge. The building next to her groaned and started to crumble, forcing her to leap in
another direction to avoid a piece of falling masonry. The quake subsided and Pariah stood there,
heart racing, to see if there would be another.
She gave a wide-eyed look to Lythienne, who seemed unruffled by the tremor. The elf shrugged
and silently gestured down the street that would take them to the bridge, her eyebrows raised in
inquiry. Pariah nodded and they started carefully down that street, trying to stay out of sight of the
guards on the bridge.

They stopped at the last building before the bridge. Still out of sight of the creatures on the
crossing, they could see a plank had been leaned up against the stone railing. Written in reddish-
brown paint -- at least she hoped it was paint -- was the cryptic message, "TOL - 1 SOL KOIN".

"What language is that?" Lythienne wondered in a whisper.

"It's Common," Pariah whispered back. Her gift let her read it even though it was so poorly spelled.
"It says 'Toll - 1 soul coin'."

Lythienne grimaced. "I don't think I want to know what a soul coin is."

Pariah said, "Maybe those black stone things the devils were carrying."

She carefully peered around the corner of the building until she could see the guards on the bridge.
Two were heavily armored humanoids, one facing each end of the bridge. For a moment, Pariah
thought they were Hellriders. Their breastplates were emblazoned with the same symbol Ryland
bore -- two suns, one smaller with a blazing light around it -- and each wielded both a longsword
and a shortsword. However, it was immediately clear to her that there was something wrong with
them. They stood in an unnatural stance, hunched over, limbs at odd angles that put her nerves on
edge. Their heads were completely encased in helmets, the front of which were shaped into crude
faces. She couldn't see holes for vision or breathing. And if that wasn't proof enough that these
things weren't human, the third creature removed all doubt.

Between the armored figures stood something that was obviously a devil. It was a naked humanoid
covered in barbs, spines and hooks and with a long tail. It had claws and a mouth full of sharp
teeth. Its head snapped over the instant Pariah's head peeked out, its gleaming eyes studying her.
She opened her mouth to call a warning to Lythienne, but the creature didn't attack, didn't alert the
others, just watched her intently with a predatory look in its eyes.

Pariah knew that the devil covered in barbs was, not surprisingly, called a barbed devil. It had
another name that escaped her, but barbed devil was close enough. She had read about the armored
creatures and tried to remember their names. Something with an M. Merregons, that was it --
infernal troops made from the souls of fallen soldiers.

Pariah pulled back. "You might as well come look," she said to Lythienne. "I've already been
spotted."

Lythienne looked around the corner. "They don't seem too upset by our presence," she said.

"I guess they mean it about the toll." She looked down the street towards the rest of their group
and beckoned them over. She reached up to squeeze the gem on her earring and said, "There are
some devils guarding the bridge but they don't seem hostile. They want a toll."

As the group started to approach, something occurred to her. She activated the earring again and
said, "Ryland, be prepared. It looks like two of them are resurrected Hellriders."

The others reached them and looked out at the creatures on the bridge. She watched Ryland's
stormy expression as he studied the Hellriders. "Are they undead?" he asked, anger in his voice.

"I don't think so," Pariah said. "I think they are merregons. Warriors who...come here are often
turned into them. But they are devils, not undead."

He ground his teeth. "Is there anything in this corrupted city worth saving?" he demanded.

Pariah nodded towards Harkina and her sons and said gently, "People like them."

Ryland glanced at them and looked embarrassed. "Of course," he said. "Sorry."

"Your despair is understandable," said Farima. "But we all need to remember that, despite the ruin
and corruption, there are people who need our help."

If we can get back, Pariah thought to herself. Without Traxigor they had no real way to help
anyone. "So what about them?" she asked, jerking her head towards the bridge.

She and her companions were staying under cover but not hidden. The barbed devil continued to
watch them without blinking, but it didn't seem overtly hostile.

"We should slay the evil beasts," said Farima.

"We are in a plane full of evil beasts," said Lythienne. "If we kill everyone we meet, we will not
get far. We are in their world. We may need their help to survive, and that means we may need to
be open-minded in our dealings."

Farima frowned. "I do not wish to negotiate with fiends."

"I agree," Lulu chirped. "Evil should be destroyed."

Ryland said, "If we choose to fight, we have an advantage. The city has defenses against evil
creatures. The bridges have been consecrated in the name of Torm. There is a prayer inscribed in
the stonework. If a priest reads it out loud, the blessing of Torm will burn them with holy fire."

Rowan seemed startled when she realized Ryland was looking at her. "Me? Oh, uh, yeah," she said
unsurely. "I guess I could try."

Pariah sensed that her hesitation confused the group. She hadn't told them about Rowan's rant that
one night, and as far as she knew Rowan hadn't said anything either. Pariah said, "I agree with
talking. We can always fight later."

"Me too," said Rowan.

"I don't want to fight Hellriders," Ryland said. "I want to see if they are under a spell or
something."

Pariah knew there was nothing left of them inside. Merregons were mindless brutes. However, she
remained silent. Lythienne said, "So, we talk to them?"

Farima was clearly unhappy with the decision, but grumbled, "Very well." Lulu said nothing.

Pariah said, "How about if me, Lythienne, and Ryland go ahead. I'll do the talking, since I speak
Infernal. Rowan, Lulu and Farima, you hang back and protect them," she nodded at the refugees.
"Rowan, you look for the prayer on the bridge and get ready to use it. All right?"

"I'm not putting away my swords," Ryland said firmly.

Pariah hadn't planned to sheathe hers either. She said, "Fine, but keep them lowered."
There were no further objections so the three of them started walking towards the bridge, the
others trailing about twenty feet behind. She heard Farima's voice through the earring. "Pariah,"
she said. "If things seem to be going poorly, say 'By Torm's hand'. Rowan can start the prayer and
hopefully they will not realize we mean to attack."

"Good idea," she said back.

As they set foot on the near end of the bridge, the barbed devil said something to the merregons
that she couldn't hear. The creatures moved to stand on either side of and a little behind him,
forming a line across the width of the bridge. The span was about twenty feet wide and over a
hundred feet long, arching over the chasm below. She glanced at the stone on the sides and could
see runes carved in them. She could see the prayer Ryland had talked about, inscribed about every
ten feet, and other symbols she didn't recognize as writing. As they ventured out onto the stone
walkway, Pariah suddenly found herself wondering how stable this bridge was. If it were to
crumble during the next tremor, they would have a long way to fall.

As they drew near, she called out in Infernal, "We don't want trouble."

The barbed devil bared needle-like teeth at her. "One soul coin," it hissed at her.

"I don't know what that is," she said. She held up one of the larger black stone tokens in her left
hand. "Is this a soul coin?"

It sneered at her. "Idiot! Of course that's not a soul coin."

"Are they worth anything? Can we pay with these?"

Its shimmering eyes studied her calculatingly. "Give me five...er...seven hundred chits and I'll let
you cross."

"Seven hundred what?" she asked, not sure she heard him correctly.

"Chits! Chits! Stupid human, that thing in your hand. Seven hundred or get off my bridge."

She was a pretty good haggler, but she wasn't optimistic she could talk him from seven hundred
down to sixteen. "By Torm's hand," she sighed dramatically in Common. Then, to keep the fiend
distracted, she said in Infernal, "What about gold? Will you take gold?"

She heard Rowan mumbling behind her. The devil spat at Pariah. "Gold, feh. Some take gold
because you stupid mortals like the shiny, but I want souls." He grinned widely at her. "You could
offer me one. Then you can pass. It doesn't have to be yours. One of the children, maybe. Then you
can all pass in safety, yes? Do we have a deal?"

"Nothing's happening," Pariah heard Rowan say into the earring.

Ryland pinched his earring and said quietly, "I think you have to say it louder. Proclaim it." He was
speaking Common and Pariah hoped the devil couldn't understand him.

"For the love of..." Rowan complained softly. Then, in a louder voice, she declared, "Torm, god of
courage..."

The devil's eye's narrowed. "What is she doing?"

"...may your righteous hand..."

"Stop it! Stop it now!"

"...smite the evil before me."

"That's it! Get off my bridge, mortals, or I'll throw you off the side!"

"Nothing is happening!"

"Do it again," shouted Pariah over her shoulder.

"Torm, god of courage..."

The barbed devil howled in rage. To the merregons he said, "Take them all! Kill them if they won't
surrender."

"...may your righteous hand..."

The barbed devil lunged at Pariah and slashed at her with his claws and tail. She managed to avoid
the tail but the claws raked across her side, creasing the leather and bruising her underneath. A
shriek pierced the air as Farima summoned a burst of sound behind the devils. Ryland and
Lythienne rushed forward to engage the merregons, both taking wounds from their swords as they
drew near.

"...smite the evil before me. Dammit! These things don't work."

Pariah grimaced as she sparred with the devil. She knew the problem. She could hear it in Rowan's
voice. "You have to mean it," Pariah shouted. "Have faith!"

Rowan mumbled something under her breath. She took a pause and then, her voice ringing, she
called out, "Torm, god of courage..."

Pariah stabbed at the devil and the point of her rapier slid off its tough skin. It responded by
slamming its barbed tail into her weapon arm. She grunted as one of the barbs pierced the leather
and speared into her flesh just above her elbow. She hoped it wasn't poisoned. She fell into a
defensive stance as she tried to will the pain away.

"...may your righteous hand..."

Lythienne gracefully dodged the clumsy blows of the merregon. She slashed the tanto across its
chest and danced out of the path of the return strike. Rowan's technique was less fluid, but more
powerful as he cut a deep gash in the leg of his opponent.

"...smite the evil before me."

Pariah could feel the magic rising. The runes on the side started to glow with a warm yellow light.
As the divine magic suffused the area, Pariah could feel the pain of her wounds fading. The devils'
skin started to burn and smoke. "Don't let them cross!" the barbed devil shrieked at the merregons
and then it turned and started to run towards the far side the bridge.

The merregons both disintegrated in the holy light. Four bolts of light shot past Pariah and
slammed into the fleeing devil, but he kept going. Ryland and Lythienne took off after him. Ryland
was limping from a wound on his leg so couldn't run very fast, but Lythienne was quickly gaining.
Pariah didn't bother to give chase, choosing instead to call the icy energy into her left arm and send
a white beam of frost at the fiend. The beam hit and the devil slowed as the frigid energy
enveloped him.
Lythienne caught up and kicked at his legs. As he stumbled forward, she shoved him to guide his
path towards the short stone wall at the side of the bridge. He tried to catch his balance, but she
launched a powerful kick against his back. He pitched forward over the side and fell into the
chasm, his scream fading into the sound of the battle below as he fell five hundred feet into the
River Styx.

Lythienne winced as she put her foot back on the ground. "Ow," she said as the group caught up to
her. "One of those spikes on his back went right through the sole of my shoe."

"Good job, everybody," said Pariah, a little out of breath. She turned to grin at Rowan. "Especially
you."

Rowan grunted. "Yeah, well, it's about time the gods helped us a little. I gather negotiations didn't
go well?"

Pariah remembered that none of the others spoke Infernal. "No. They wanted a soul."

Ryland limped back towards the bodies of the merregons. Rowan said, "Ryland, let me look at that
wound."

"Later," he replied. He knelt down next to the bodies and tried to remove their helmets. After
straining with them he said in frustration, "They won't come off!"

The others had gathered near him. Farima said carefully, "It is my understanding that their helmets
cannot be removed." Pariah could sense she was not telling the whole truth.

Ryland didn't take the hint. "Why not?" he demanded as he continued to struggle to remove their
helmets.

"Ryland, just leave them," Farima said.

"No. I want to see who they are. How do I get these off?"

Farima pursed her lips. Gently she said, "You will not be able to remove them. The helmets are
bolted to their skulls."

The group absorbed this news in a horrified silence. Ryland had stopped pulling on the helmet, but
he continued to stare at the bodies. "Then we need to pull out the bolts. I want to identify them."

Farima sighed. "That would not be advisable. They do not have faces anymore." She reached down
to touch his shoulder. "Come, Ryland, we need to go."

Pariah shivered as she looked down at the horrors at her feet. She hadn't come across these details
in the brief passage she'd read about merregons, but she trusted that Farima knew what she was
talking about. Gritting her teeth, she said, "She's right. We need to keep moving."

"We can't just leave them," Ryland said in a numb voice.

"I'm sorry, Ryland," Lythienne said with sympathy, "but we have to. We can't haul bodies with us
right now."

"We need to rest," said Rowan. "We're all wounded, and if we are going to have to keep fighting
every couple of blocks then we aren't going to make it to the High Hall like this."

Ryland had regained his feet. Still staring at the bodies he said dully, "There are buildings at the
top of the bluff. We can take shelter there."

Pariah looked towards the far end of the bridge. The ground rose sharply there, but she could see a
stairway leading up and buildings along the top of the cliff.

Rowan looked towards the end of the bridge. "All right, but let's stop at the base of the stairs there.
Let me apply some bandages and prayers before we head up."

Pariah glanced down at the bodies again. The street urchin in her wanted to search them but,
ignoring the fact that Ryland would certainly object, they didn't seem to have possessions other
than their armor and weapons. At least she had verified that the black tokens were some kind of
money, so they might be useful if the group had to stay for any length of time.

The glow of the runes faded as the magic ebbed. "I guess that's our signal to get moving," she said.

Pariah shook herself back into alertness. She looked back and saw the refugees. Lulu seemed to
have taken it on herself to stay with them and protect them, and that was probably for the best.

The openness of the bridge meant there was no reason for Pariah and Lythienne to scout ahead.
The group formed up and continued to the other end. There they rested for a few minutes while
Rowan prayed and the magic healed them. Nobody spoke, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
Farima wrote in her notebook. Ryland simply stared off into the nothingness of the chasm, his face
a mask of despair. Harkina held her sons by her sides while Lulu entertained them.

Pariah looked up at the dark orb of the Companion that floated nearly right over their heads.
Lightning continued to crackle, occasionally striking parts of the city, but none of the bolts came
near them. The sound of the battle continued to rage below, so pervasive she didn't really hear it
unless she was listening for it. Another tremor rocked them, and again she felt the ground below
her drop a short distance.

Lythienne sat beside her. "Shall we use the opportunity to practice?" They had maintained their
Elvish lessons throughout their stay at Candlekeep. Lythienne insisted that it was important to train
a little every day, even just for a little while.

It seemed so absurd at that moment, learning a new language while sitting in a city in the Nine
Hells after killing a bunch of devils. Pariah laughed but said, "Yeah, we might as well."

After a few minutes, Rowan stood from her prayers and said, "Okay, that's enough to get us
moving again. I'd like to get under cover before trying anything more."

Pariah climbed painfully to her feet. She was still injured, but could tough it out. She looked up the
steep flight of switchback stairs that stretched above them. She couldn't help thinking that anyone
at the top could toss boulders down at them as they climbed up. That was the problem with
heading to a place that had been built to be defensive.

"Why don't you all wait down here," she said. "Let Lythienne and I check out the top first. I'd hate
for us all to get caught on the stairs in an ambush."

Farima made a thoughtful noise. "Yes, that might be a good plan. We can cover you from down
here." Farima had her magic, Harkina her bow, and both Rowan and Ryland had crossbows and
silvered bolts stowed in their magic bags.

"Be careful," said Rowan as she pulled her crossbow out.

"We'll do our best," Pariah smiled. Weapons in hand, she and Lythienne started up the stairs,
 keeping a careful eye on the ridge above.

Chapter End Notes

I'm officially going to start posting every two weeks. I hope to get back to posting
weekly, but I'm still struggling to get chapters out and I want to try to get back to
writing about 10 chapters ahead of what I'm posting.

The bridge toll idea came from the remix, though players won't have soul coins by this
point. I changed the guards on the bridge from what's in the module because I
reasoned that Ryland, as a Hellrider, would know about the runes and using those
makes the battle as written trivial. The merregons had their weapons tweaked to fit
their origin as Hellriders.

There are a couple of examples in this battle of emphasizing narrative over die rolls.
Rowan's first two attempts at the prayer were purely for the story. There was no roll
because I didn't want it to work before combat began. The third attempt was her first
roll and she succeeded, but I wanted her to fail as a depiction of her continuing crisis of
faith so I made her take another try.

The second example is that, in the battle I ran on Roll20, the barbed devil died
because Ryland stabbed it. Lythienne kicking it over the side just seemed cooler. I'm
trying to focus on the results of the battle -- who died, who got wounded -- rather than
round-to-round actions.
 A Cozy Inn
Chapter Summary

They party continues to traverse the devil-infested city of Elturel, hoping to find safety
at the High Hall.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah and Lythienne climbed the stairs that zigzagged up the face of the cliff. They weren't steep
but that meant they were long. Pariah tried to keep an eye out for danger from above, but often the
next flight of steps blocked her view. Suddenly Lythienne reached out a hand to stop her. Pariah
looked over and saw she was concentrating. Lythienne reached up to her earring and whispered to
the group waiting at the foot of the stairs, "I hear the clash of weapons above."

Pariah strained her hearing but could detect nothing over the distant roar of the battle below.
However, she trusted the elf's ears and continued climbing at an increased pace. If anyone was
fighting, one side might be an ally.

She was out of breath as they reached the top of the stairs. She could hear the fight now, metal
clanging on metal. She poked her head above the landing and immediately saw the situation. In
front of her, a road led away from the stairs. About a hundred feet away, a woman in Hellrider
armor was backed against a wall facing a bearded devil and five figures in hooded robes wearing
masks similar to those worn by the Zariel cultists in the villa. Another Hellrider was on the ground
next to her. The woman was badly wounded and surrounded.

"Two Hellriders fighting devils," she hissed into the earring, trying to keep her voice low. "Get up
here now." To Lythienne she said, "We have to help her."

"We should wait for the others," Lythienne cautioned.

Pariah opened her mouth to reply when the bearded devil's glaive slashed down, cut through the
woman's armor, and drove her to the ground. Pariah knew that they might be able to save the
Hellriders, but not if they bled out. She charged up the last few steps and down the street. "Hey!"
she yelled as she fired a beam of cold energy that struck the bearded devil. He whirled to see her,
roared, and the entire group charged down the street towards her.

Suddenly she realized that this might not have been such a good idea after all.

Through the earring, she heard Lythienne say, "Pariah bravely charged in to save the fallen
Hellriders," and Pariah felt exhilarated by the magic in her words. She fired again, and the devil's
charge slowed as a deep chill seeped into his muscles. However the robed figures were nearly upon
her.

Suddenly, Lythienne appeared from an alley past the next building, slashing with her tanto at one
of the cultists from behind. He and one of his companions turned on her, but the other three and the
bearded devil bore down on Pariah. Pariah lunged forward, striking a deep wound in one of the
charging cultists as he neared.
She heard the beat of wings over her head and then a piercing trumpet sound filled the air. A
torrent of sparkling energy came from above her head and washed over the enemies. They
screamed as it burned at their skin. One of the humans managed to dodge to the side, catching only
some of the energy, but the other four collapsed in piles of smoking flesh. The bearded devil, his
skin blistered and peeling from the attack, looked over Pariah's head at what flew there and his face
registered an emotion she never thought she'd see on a devil.

It was terror.

The devil turned and fled as fast as he could. Pariah took careful aim and fired a beam of freezing
energy, but it just missed him. Willing herself to maintain the icy stream, she walked it over to him
as the cold burned in her muscles. The devil cried out as ice formed on his back, and then he fell
dead to the street. The last human also tried to flee, but Lythienne tripped him. He fell to the
pavement and a stab from her tanto made sure that he would stay there.

Pariah whirled around to see what horrible thing had slain so many of her enemies and saw Lulu
hovering there, her golden fur tinged red by the unnatural light from the hellish sky. "That was
fun," Lulu said with a giggle. "The searing light of justice will slay all evil."

Pariah looked down at the corpses, their skin still smoldering. "Yeah," she said weakly. "Good job,
Lulu. You should help more often."

"Oh I can't do that very much," she said in disappointment. "I think I used to be able to do it more
but I don't remember. Plus it's really loud."

Pariah's arm was numb from forcing the ice spell, and she rubbed it briskly in an attempt to restore
feeling. The rest of the group reached the top of the stairs, all panting heavily and looking around
for enemies. Pariah pointed to the Hellriders and said, "Rowan, see if you can save them."

Rowan took in the scene in shock, and then nodded and jogged towards the fallen warriors. Ryland
followed her, a look of despair on his face as he saw his fallen comrades.

Farima looked over the corpses. "What did you do?" she asked, half accusing and half curious.

"Not me," said Pariah. She pointed to Lulu. "Her."

Farima looked up at the small, golden elephant flying above her, and then back at the corpses. "Ah,
yes," she said. "Hollyphants are powerful warriors in the fight against evil."

"That was reckless," Lythienne scolded. Pariah turned to see the elf was giving her a stern look.
Lythienne said sharply, "You should have waited for the others. You could have been killed. We
both could have been."

"Yeah," Pariah said, feeling a little embarrassed. "It was instinct. I didn't even realize I was going
to do something until I was already moving." Lythienne looked like she was going to say more, but
Pariah quickly added, "We need to stay on our guard. That thing Lulu did was probably heard
across half the city."

Lythienne pursed her lips and then nodded.

They made their way to the Hellriders while carefully looking down the streets and alleys they
passed. Rowan was kneeling by the two fallen warriors while Ryland watched her sadly. The
woman stirred and Ryland's face lit up. Rowan helped her to sit up against the wall.

The woman was blonde but beginning to gray on the sides. Her cheeks were drawn and she looked
exhausted as she scanned the group in confusion, particularly when looking at Lulu. Her eyes fell
on Ryland and stopped. Her face brightened just slightly. "Mantlemorn?" she asked in wonder.

He grinned. "Lieutenant, it's good to see you alive," he said.

She looked over the group again, and then down at her companion. "Haren," she said in alarm. "Is
he dead?"

"I'm sorry," Rowan said. "It was too late to save him."

"Why haven't you finished him?" she demanded. She reached for the shortsword lying inches from
his dead hand.

"Finished him?" Ryland asked. "What do you mean?"

The woman put the point of the shortsword between the armor splints on the dead man's abdomen,
angling it so the thrust would come up behind his breastbone. "What are you doing?" Ryland asked
in horror.

"We have to finish him before he rises," she said. She made a pained groan and winced as her hand
grabbed at the wound in her abdomen. "Help me!"

Rowan said, "We don't know what you're saying. What do you need help with?"

The lieutenant looked at her like she was crazy. "Have you never seen what happens to Hellriders
when they die?" Rowan gave her a blank look. In exasperation, the woman said, "We have to kill
the body or he'll rise as one of the faceless." With a grunt, she weakly pushed the sword and it
slipped between the splints but not far.

The body started to move. With a hint of panic, the lieutenant said, "Hurry! He's changing!"

Pariah looked down at the man. He was young, with thin lips, a sharp nose and a hint of dark
stubble. As she watched, the skin on his face started to shift. It stretched to cover his eyes, his nose,
his mouth until his face was just a blank, pink canvas with no openings. His head started to move
back and forth as he made muffled moans.

Lythienne suddenly shoved the lieutenant aside. She grabbed the hilt of the sword and threw her
weight into it driving it about in inch into his chest. "More!" the lieutenant cried. "It has to pierce
his heart."

Lythienne straightened up and slammed a powerful kick into the hilt of the blade, driving it further
in. She followed that with another and the metal of the sword scraped against the cobblestones
under the man's back. The body stopped moving and his moaning stopped.

A moment passed as the group tried to process the horrific event they had just witnessed. Pariah
tore her eyes away from the man's blank face to look at the others. Most of them were still staring
at the body, mouths agape. Harkina was on her knees, holding her toddler sons against her, her
hands over their eyes. She was turned away, her eyes squeezed shut.

"What was that?" Ryland asked in a horrified whisper.

The lieutenant was still lying next to the body, leaning on one elbow, her other hand clutching her
belly as blood seeped through her fingers. She was panting and her face was screwed up with pain.
Through gritted teeth she said to Ryland, "Where in the hells have you been that you don't know
what that was? Haven't you seen one of the Hellriders die?"
He shook his head mutely.

Pariah was still stuck in shock but she forced her mind to start moving. "We're kind of new in
town," she said.

The lieutenant shot her a poisonous look. "Do you think that's funny?"

"She's telling the truth," said Rowan. "We've been sent here to find out what happened to the city."

The woman looked at Rowan, unsure whether to believe her or not. Suddenly a thought occurred to
Pariah, a thought she needed to discuss with the others. "Look, it's a long story," she said quickly.
"And we should get under cover first."

The lieutenant jerked her head at the building she had previously had her back to when fighting.
"The inn's safe. We were sheltered there."

Pariah saw a sign in front of the inn declaring it was called Symbril's House. "Rowan, why don't
you and her go inside? You can tend to her wounds. The rest of us can make sure the area is clear.
Then we can talk."

The woman studied her suspiciously, then she turned to Ryland. "Mantlemorn, there was a dwarf
shopkeeper you used to pal around with all the time. What was his name?"

Ryland was confused. "Sir?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Funny thing about devils. Some of 'em can disguise themselves. We've had
infiltrators." Pariah felt her pulse rate jump but maintained a neutral expression. The lieutenant
asked again, "So, what was his name?"

"Oloric."

She relaxed just a bit and said, "A dwarf with a voice like a gnome. Sorry, had to be sure,
especially with you not knowing about the faceless and all."

As Rowan and Ryland helped the injured woman to her feet, he said, "Actually, we faced a couple
of them on Torm's Blade."

They both helped the lieutenant towards the door, and Pariah said, "Rowan, do you think you can
handle her alone? We'll need Ryland out here."

"Sure," Rowan said, then added dryly, "It's easier now that I have two hands."

Pariah gave her an awkward smile. "Harkina, Lulu, go with her. We'll come inside in a bit."

The lieutenant stopped and turned to look down at the body sadly. "You can take the sword out,"
she said in a dull voice. "He's safe now. Bring him inside. I don't want to leave him for the ghouls."

"All right, we'll take care of him," Pariah said. As she watched them head into the inn, she said,
"Farima and Ryland, why don't you two..." She faded off as the door closed.

She pinched the earring and said, "Rowan, don't react to this. Don't tell her anything about what's
going on or why we are here yet." She released the earring and turned to the group. "We need to
talk about something. How much are we going to tell people? Kreeg, Zariel, the truth about the
Hellriders, all of it. Ryland, what do you think?"

"Me?" he asked in surprise, still reeling from shock of what had happened to the dead Hellrider.
"Yes. You've had to hear this already. You know how hard it was and can guess how the others
will react. How much do you think they need to know right away?"

He looked anxious. "It's a lot to handle," he admitted. "And I'm not sure knowing would help
them." He frowned. "But I don't like keeping secrets from my comrades."

Predictably, Farima said, "I do not like deceit."

"I'm not looking to deceive anyone," Pariah assured her. "I just think the people here need to focus
on the immediate problem and not get tied up worrying about something they can't control.
Ryland, it was tough for you to accept and you had days to think about it. These people have
already been through a lot. Look, I'll follow your lead. If you think we should tell them, then fine,
but let's be sure."

"She has a point," offered Lythienne. "Distraction could be deadly in a situation like this."

They all looked to Ryland for an answer and he seemed to be nervous being put on the spot like
that. He chewed on the idea for a while and then said, "I guess you're right. We should tell the
commander, though. Whoever's in charge at High Hall. Let him decide what people need to know.
But maybe not tell the lieutenant just yet."

Pariah nodded. "All right. We'll tell her why we are here, but not all the other stuff. All right?" She
looked at the others. Lythienne nodded and, after a moment, Farima did as well.

Into the earring she said, "Rowan, we aren't going to tell her anything other than why we are here.
Not yet. We'll fill you in later." To the others she said, "Now, we really should look around a bit
and then let's get the body inside and rest up."

They did a quick recon of the nearby streets and saw no movement. The inn had only one entrance
and the first floor windows had been boarded up from the inside, so it looked like a secure place to
rest for a bit. Pariah took a moment to search the bodies. She found another couple dozen of those
black tokens, which she took. When they were satisfied, Ryland removed the sword from the
Hellrider's corpse, cleaned it and re-sheathed it along with the man's other weapon. Pariah grabbed
the lieutenant's two swords, both lying forgotten on the ground. Lythienne and Ryland picked up
the body of the Hellrider and the group headed inside.

Pariah expected a tavern area, as was common for the inns she'd seen, but inside was just a simple
lobby. There were a few wooden chairs but no tables. Rowan and the lieutenant were sitting in two
of the chairs while Rowan prayed over the officer. Harkina was sitting on the steps leading up to
the second floor, her sons at her side. Lulu was sitting on the floor nearby. "Put him on the
counter," Pariah said and they laid the body on the check-in desk.

"Perhaps I should get something to cover him," Lythienne suggested. His blank face made the
corpse even more disturbing to look at.

The lieutenant looked towards a hallway. "Rooms are down there," she said.

As Lythienne went to fetch a blanket, the lieutenant turned to the rest of the group. "Thanks for
the rescue. I'm Lieutenant Kavra Sagestalker." She furrowed her brow and looked back at Ryland.
"So what's your story, Mantlemorn? Since you haven't seen a Hellrider turn, I gather you haven't
come from the High Hall."

"That's right. I was outside the city when it was taken. We've come from Candlekeep to do recon."

Kavra stared at him. "You mean they were serious? You've come from back in the world?"
He nodded. "We are working with a sage at Candlekeep to figure out how to save Elturel."

"Then you can take us back?"

Ryland hesitated. "Well, I don't know."

"We were brought here by a wizard," Pariah explained. "He panicked and ran. We don't know
where he is. We are hoping he ended up in High Hall, since he knew that's where we were headed."

"And if you can't find him?" Kavra asked.

"Then we are fucked," Pariah said simply.

The lieutenant's face fell. "Aren't we all," she sighed.

Lythienne came in with a sheet and a blanket. She fashioned a hood out of the sheet that she
wrapped around his head before covering the body with the blanket. While she did this, Ryland
asked Kavra, "So, what's the situation here, sir?"

"People are still scattered. There are a couple of strongholds. Haren and I had come to negotiate
with High Hall, but then we saw a large force of devils moving in so we took cover. That didn't
work out, as you saw."

"What do you mean 'negotiate'?" Ryland asked in confusion.

She grimaced. "There's been some disagreement about who's running the Hellriders. You saw the
damage to the High Hall, right? Shortly after the city arrived, some kind of meteor smashed into it.
Between that and the infiltrators targeting officers, the upper echelon has been wiped out. Captain
Stask is commanding the stronghold at Helm's Shieldhall; that's where we came from. Captain
Kaas is at High Hall, but is taking orders from some outsider from Baldur's Gate, Ravengard. As
far as we know, everyone else captain or above is dead."

"Why the separation?"

She sighed, "Captain Stask refuses to take orders from a Baldurian. Captain Kaas thinks Ravengard
has the experience we need in a leader, no matter where he comes from. Stask is the senior officer,
but Kaas has thrown in with Ravengard."

"For fuck's sake," Pariah said in irritation. "We're literally in hell, and people still can't work
together because two guys are in a dick measuring contest."

Kavra raised her eyebrows and said, "Captain Kaas is a woman, actually, but point taken." Then
she frowned. "We're in hell?" she asked.

Pariah was surprised. "You didn't know?"

"Well, sure, we knew we were somewhere else. And from the number of fiends, we wondered if it
was one of the Lower Planes. We just didn't know where."

"Avernus," Pariah said. "First of the Nine Hells."

Kavra shook her head. "Figures. Does anyone know why?"

"We're working on that," Pariah hedged. Then, to change the subject, she said, "Any other
holdouts?"
Kavra looked thoughtful. "We've heard rumors that there is a force at the docks, possibly lead by
the harbormaster. But we can't get across the bridges so that's no help. And we suspect there are a
few groups here and there. We're trying to find them but the streets are treacherous."

"We hid in the basement of a tavern," Harkina said. "If Hellriders had been in the streets, we never
would have known."

Kavra nodded. "That's the problem. We can't exactly walk down the street ringing a bell, calling
for survivors to come out. We hope people realize that the Shieldhall is a good place to go, but
they can't get to us if the streets are crawling with monsters."

"What about supplies?" Ryland asked.

"Both locations had a lot of siege supplies laid in already. We lost some because half the Maze
didn't come with us."

"Maze?" Pariah asked.

"Network of tunnels and caverns under the city. It's not all explored. Some people claim it goes all
the way to the Underdark, but they say that about every creepy basement. Parts of it are used for
storage in different areas of the city. We've got supplies for a few weeks." Kavra frowned. "More,
since the population has dropped so sharply." She sighed. "But that's not the problem. We'll all be
dead within a couple of months."

"You don't think you can hold out?" Ryland asked in concern.

She shook her head. "It's not our defense I'm worried about; both halls are pretty secure. But have
you seen the chains?" The group shook their heads in confusion. "On the east and west sides, the
city is held by massive chains that lead down to giant winches on the surface. You've felt the
quakes, right? Well, each one of those is another notch on the winches. They are slowly bringing
us down to the river. Once we are down, the fiends will swarm us."

"It is worse than that," said Farima. "That is the River Styx below us. Once the city is submerged,
it will steal your memories. Your minds will be blank."

"Better and better," Kavra sighed. "From what we have been able to estimate, our best guess is six
or eight weeks until the city is in the river." She smiled a hollow smile. "But if you guys are here to
look into it, then maybe we can be rescued."

Rowan leaned back from her prayers. "That's the best I can do for you right now. You've got a deep
wound to your abdomen. You need a couple of weeks of bed rest."

Kavra laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I'll get right on that. But thanks for the healing." She looked over at
the covered body. "Can you take care of him now? He could still rise as undead."

"Of course," Rowan said and rose to minister to the corpse.

Ryland looked over at the dead man. "What happened to him? And why did...you do that."

She gave a deep sigh. "Ever since we came here, Hellriders all change into things we call the
faceless when they die. Nobody else, just us. Of course the regular people sometimes rise as
undead, so it helps to have a priest around to bless the corpses." She closed her eyes for a moment.
"Lots of corpses; not a lot of priests. It's been a problem."

Kavra looked back at Ryland. "Blessings keep them from rising as undead, but not the faceless.
Nothing stops that. The only solution is to kill the body before it can change. They still change, but
they die instantly. We've thought about burning them but the change happens too quick. Some
people chop off the heads, but that's a little gruesome for me. Shoving a sword through the heart
works, but you have to keep the sword there until the change happens."

Ryland was pale. "I can't imagine," he said.

She gave him a hard glare and said sternly, "Mantlemorn, you better realize that it's the most
compassionate thing you can do. If I go down, I damn well expect you to shove my sword through
my heart. And I'll do the same for you."

"Yes, sir," he said weakly.

She turned to Lythienne. "I didn't thank you earlier, but I appreciate you taking decisive action."

Lythienne said nothing in return, just gave her an acknowledging nod.

"So," Kavra said, turning to address the group, "you said you're headed to the High Hall?"

Pariah said, "Yeah. We were planning to contact Ravengard. We're all from Baldur's Gate. The
same thing that happened to Elturel might be happening there."

"And you don't know who's behind it?"

Again, Pariah hedged. "One of the dukes was involved, we know that. We're still trying to find out
what's going on. I'm Pariah, by the way. And these are Farima, Rowan, Lythienne, Harkina, and
her two sons whose names I've forgotten."

"Ezo and Brask," said Harkina.

"Right. Oh, and that's Lulu. She's the one you really have to thank for saving you."

"I saw," she said. "I was still half-conscious while you were fighting. I honestly thought I had
imagined that. What is she?"

"She's a hollyphant from the Upper Planes." Then, as a thought occurred to her, Pariah said, "Hey,
Lulu."

"Yeah?" Lulu piped up brightly.

Pariah thought silently at her, Don't tell anyone you knew Zariel yet. We'll tell people everything
later, okay? She was hoping the hollyphant would take the hint and read her thoughts.

Lulu cocked her head. After a moment, Pariah heard Lulu's voice in her head saying, Really? Uh,
well, okay.

Kavra looked confused at the silence. Pariah said quickly, "Since you are headed there anyhow,
let's all go to the High Hall together."

Kavra furrowed her brow, looking back and forth between Pariah and Lulu, but didn't press the
matter. She looked over at the body. "I want to take him with us. They have crypts there."

Ryland said, "I'll put together a litter and we can carry him." He frowned. "We left two on Torm's
Blade. We should have brought them."

"Don't worry about it, soldier," she said. "We'll tell Ravengard and maybe he can send out a
recovery team."

"We should rest," said Lythienne. "We've done nothing but fight since we arrived."

"You're right," replied Kavra. "As I said, there was a large force of devils headed for the High Hall
so we may have more fighting ahead. I don't think it was anywhere near enough to break their
defenses, but it was more organized than the small raids we've seen so far. We'll have to be
careful."

The group settled in, shrugging off their packs and finding as comfortable a place to relax as they
could. They brought out chairs from the other rooms so everyone had a place to sit. Pariah took a
swig from her water skin and suddenly her mouth was filled with a taste that was something
between raw sewage and kobold sweat. Reflexively she spat the water out on the floor and looked
at the waterskin suspiciously. "What in the hells was that?" she asked, spitting again in a vain effort
to get the foul taste out of her mouth.

"Oh, that," Kavra said. "All the food and water tastes spoiled. Our clerics assure us it's safe, but it's
hard to hold it down. Frankly I have to be pretty far gone before I'm willing to eat or drink
anything."

Pariah saw her point and closed the waterskin before putting it back on her belt. "Then I guess I
won't ask where the kitchen is," she said.

"Wouldn't help anyhow," the lieutenant replied. "In Elturel, inns can't serve food or drink and
taverns can't provide beds. Don't know why. It's just the way it's always been." She let out a long
breath, suddenly looking very tired. "Speaking of beds, I'm going to go lie down in one of the
rooms. Come get me when it's time to leave."

Pariah was glad when she left. If she started asking questions about things back in Faerûn, it might
get awkward to keep avoiding the truth. Rowan checked the rest of them out, gave some additional
treatment to what wounds people had, but then she settled down to relax and pray for a while.
Lythienne pulled her dulcimer out of her bottomless bag and played some soothing music while
they rested.

Pariah tried to relax but she couldn't stop seeing the haunting image of the Hellrider's face
changing. She kept stealing peeks at the body, waiting for it to start moving and attack them.
Finally, to distract herself, she took the book Little One had given her from her pack. She opened it
and started reading it, saying the words emphatically in her mind so they would crowd out her
other thoughts.

"What are those?" Rowan asked, looking at the lights in the room. Pariah had noticed them as well.
Iron cages held balls of glass about the size of her fist that glowed with a steady light.

"Driftglobes," said Farima. "They are magical light devices that, as the name implies, can drift and
follow anyone who uses the command word."

"Command word?"

"They are typically inscribed on the globe itself. They can glow much brighter than that, if
desired."

"That could be useful." Pariah heard her struggling to open the cage. "Hey, Pariah. Can you toss
me that pack of tools I gave you?"

Pariah was annoyed that Rowan was interrupting her reading, but reached into her satchel and felt
 the tool kit appear in her hand. She tossed it towards the other woman and then went back to her
book. She was vaguely aware of Rowan getting the driftglobe out of the cage and playing with its
command words, but she mostly just shut out the others and tried to soothe her thoughts with her
reading.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when they heard a grunt from the room Kavra had
gone into. The lieutenant slowly came into the doorway, hand on her abdomen and pain twisting
her face. "All right, time to go," she said. "Gods, that hurts."

Rowan said, "Like I said, you are beyond magic right now. You'll need to rest. You aren't going to
be able to fight."

Kavra painfully drew her swords, one long and one short just like Ryland, and swung them about,
grunting. "I can fight," she said defiantly.

"Lieutenant, she's right," Ryland said. "Hang back and protect them," he added, nodding at Harkina
and the boys.

"You giving me orders, Mantlemorn?" she said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yes, sir, I am," he replied in mock seriousness.

"Insubordination," she laughed, which caused her to flinch again. "All right, I'll guard the rear."
She stiffly sheathed her swords again. "But for now, we need to go."

Ryland had broken up some furniture and torn up sheets to manufacture a serviceable litter. He and
Lythienne lowered the dead Hellrider's body onto it. Kavra came up to one end. "I'll help carry it."

"I don't think-" Rowan began.

"I'll help carry it!" she repeated defiantly.

Rowan frowned. "Fine, but let's rig up a sling so you can take the weight on your shoulders. That
way it won't pull on your wound."

After a few more minutes and a few more torn sheets, they managed to knot together a sling. Kavra
would walk in front so the weight would come down on her back muscles. Harkina offered to take
the other end of the litter. "You all need to be free to fight," she said.

Ready to go, Pariah put away her book and tool kit, and then took a moment to summon the cold
into her sword and armor. She and Lythienne led the way out into the street. They stopped, looking
and listening, but nothing seemed to be lurking in the ruins around them. They turned towards the
shattered castle in the distance and started down the street.

Chapter End Notes

After a series of talky chapters, you are finally getting a lot of action!

This encounter was a mix of "Symbril's House" from the Alexandrian Remix and
"Injured Knight" from Encounters in Avernus. The current situation in the city she
described is also based on the remix, though I changed the details of the factions. His
factions were interesting but would require too much retcon to what I've already
written about Elturel's history. Similarly, the transformation of dead Hellriders is also
taken from the remix but changed up a bit.

The line about the cold burning Pariah's arm is an example of Succeeding at Cost from
Giffyglyph's Darker Dungeons. If you fail by 1-3 points, you can choose to succeed by
paying a cost like taking damage or a level of exhaustion.

The remix brought up an interesting point: Pariah should be less affected by the awful
food and water due to her infernal heritage. He posted that long after I wrote this
chapter and I considered rewriting the water scene to have it happen to someone else.
However, since Pariah is the POV character, I preferred describing the experience
from her point of view.
 A Besieged Castle
Chapter Summary

At last the group reaches the High Hall, accompanied by refugees and a wounded
Hellrider.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The street opened up into what used to be a park. It was hard to tell what it had looked like because
all the plant life was withered and burned. Where there had been a brook running down the middle
of the park was now a sluggish stream of lava about a foot across. The black surface of the flow
showed an ever changing web of bright cracks as the cooled lava broke and shifted according to
the flow of the molten rock beneath.

The park was narrow, only about a hundred feet side to side, and stretched all the way in front of
them to the High Hall in the distance. With the plant life gone, there was little cover for them,
whereas the sides of the park were dotted with buildings that could be hiding anything. However,
the open park also meant it was harder for anything to surprise them, and they already knew that
devils had been headed for the High Hall, so they could only hope that none of them would be
loitering here.

It was hard for Pariah to tear her eyes from the ruined complex ahead as they grew close to it. It
had once clearly been a magnificent castle, but now the entire right half had been smashed. In front
of them, steps led up to an opening in the wall. The gate that used to be mounted in the opening
had been torn out of its frame and was lying nearby. She couldn't see the grounds through the
gateway from this angle, but she could see a cathedral in the center of the courtyard rising towards
the red sky. Two towers flanked the main steeple and the right tower caught her attention.

It was smashed, but the pieces had not fallen to the ground. Instead, they floated in the air,
suspended by some unknown source. She guessed that the meteor had smashed through the tower
on its way to destroy the main complex, but she had no idea why the shattered building hung in the
sky.

Farima's voice came to her in her earring. "Lulu says she remembers this place when it was intact.
She has been here before. She doesn't remember anything other than that."

Pariah gestured to Lythienne and the two of them split up to mount the stairs from each side,
staying away from the center of the gateway. As she reached the top of the stairs she could see
nothing in the courtyard. She looked at Lythienne and shook her head; the elf returned the gesture.
Lythienne moved her head to peer through the gateway, stared for a moment, and then pulled back.
She reached up to her earring and whispered, "I see two massive black dogs in front of the
cathedral. They seem to be standing watch. They don't seem to be normal dogs, though."

"Hell hounds probably," came Farima's voice. "Be warned: they have sharp senses and they breathe
fire."

"Lovely," Lythienne sighed. "Perhaps the rest of you can come to the bottom of the steps. I can use
illusion to distract them, and then Pariah and I can try to catch them by surprise. The rest of you
can join once we strike."

"That sounds good," Pariah said. She looked back and saw the rest of the group coming through
the park. When they got to the base of the steps, Harkina and Kavra set down the litter they were
carrying. Kavra drew her swords and turned to face into the park, she and Lulu watching their back.
Ryland signaled for Pariah and Lythienne to go.

Lythienne looked through the gate to one side of the courtyard and then she made a gesture. After
a moment, Pariah heard a voice say, "Help me. Help me."

Pariah peered around the edge of the gateway and saw the black dogs Lythienne had mentioned.
They were at the top of a set of steps that led up to an open archway that opened into the cathedral.
The hounds were looking towards the voice alertly. They went into a crouch and started to slink
towards the sound of the call. Pariah and Lythienne slipped through the opening. She quickly
looked around for more enemies but saw none. Face down against the wall just inside the gate was
the body of a Hellrider covered in scorched dog bites, fresh blood still wet on the ground. From the
severity of the wounds it was clear he was already dead. She shook her head sadly before returning
her attention to stalking quietly towards the hell hounds. She took two steps and then stopped as a
sudden realization hit her.

Dead Hellrider.

Shit.

She whirled and tried to parry the swords coming at her, but was unable to block the longsword
that slashed at her left arm and the shortsword that stabbed at her right leg. The blows pulled the
cold out of her armor and ice formed on the faceless thing's arms but that didn't slow it down.

Pariah gritted her teeth against the pain. Thinking of the hell hounds that were now behind her, she
parried and dodged further blows as she shifted position to see the black dogs charging across the
yard towards them. She also saw Lythienne engaged with another merregon that had apparently
been on the other side of the gate. She heard Ryland's bellow and his footfalls pounding across the
cobbles. Rowan's spectral coins and Farima's bolts of energy harassed the merregon Pariah was
fighting, giving her a chance to get into a better position. She lunged forward and pierced the
creature, feeling dark energy flowing into her as it died a second time.

Suddenly, she and Ryland were caught in a firestorm as the two hell hounds neared and unleashed
flames from their mouths. She threw up an arm to protect her face as pain blossomed all over her
body. Ryland rushed forward into the flames with a roar, his swords brutally slashing at one of the
hounds. The razor-edged coins and energy bolts focused on the same beast. Pariah heard Rowan's
voice muttering close behind her, and soothing relief came over her as her wounds healed.

Energized by the healing, she pushed forward to press the attack against the wounded hound. The
other bit at Ryland and its jaw snapped down on the boy's thigh with a burst of flame. The
wounded hound reared back and launched another gout of flame. Ryland threw himself in its path,
shielding Pariah and Rowan from the worst of it but taking terrible damage in the process. Pariah
could see he was struggling to keep his feet, but adrenaline kept him moving and his shortsword
pierced the hound's throat, downing it.

Pariah moved around to the other side of the hell hound so his fire breath couldn't get them all.
Rowan stepped forward, her healing prayers aimed at Ryland this time, but the movement caught
the remaining hound's attention. It breathed a narrower flame, directing nearly all of it at her with
the edge of it catching Ryland as well. "Get out of here!" Ryland said, as he moved to interpose
himself between Rowan and the beast. With its attention directed towards the others, Pariah saw
her chance and stabbed deeply into its chest, piercing both lungs and killing it.

Ryland, still badly wounded, didn't hesitate as he saw it fall. He whirled and charged at the
remaining merregon, who Lythienne had been dueling throughout the battle. It was already injured
and quickly succumbed to the viciousness of his blades.

Pariah scanned the courtyard but saw no other threats. She looked over the group and everyone but
Farima was badly hurt. "Dammit," Pariah said. "My fault." She gestured at the merregon. "I saw
that and just saw a body. I didn't think. That was just stupid. Sorry."

Rowan was down on one knee, clutching the burn on her side with her right hand. "How much
farther do we have to go?" she asked Ryland.

He looked at the archway to the cathedral and then up at the balcony above and the two towers
flanking it. "No guards," he said. "We can hope they've fallen back to the catacombs, but I'm not
sure where the entrance is. And we don't know what's facing us inside."

The others had come up the stairs to join them. "What about it, lieutenant?" he asked Kavra, who
was carrying one end of the litter. "How hard is it to get to the catacombs once we get inside?"

She was looking over the bodies of the Hellriders with a stony expression. She looked back at
Ryland, thoughts dancing across her face. Pariah could see that she was still hesitant to trust them,
so said to her, "If they are being attacked by devils, they are going to need our help."

Kavra furrowed her brow and then said, "The main entrance to the catacombs is in the back of the
temple. However, there is a hidden stairway in the main altar in the center of the cathedral that
leads right to the main crypts. That's most likely where they are."

Pariah looked at the cathedral again. The fact nothing had come running out at the sound of
combat meant there probably weren't many forces inside. For all she knew, the attack had been
repelled, though she wasn't going to count on that. She thought about the healing potions she had.
She was used to hoarding supplies until needed, but it seemed like this situation counted as "until
needed".

She pulled out one of the weaker potions and drank it, its taste so badly corrupted by the Hells that
it was all she could do to avoid spitting it out. Kavra and Harkina set down the litter, and Kavra
knelt down by one of the bodies. "Mantlemorn, check the other one. He should have a tag around
his neck." As Ryland checked, she said, "The Hellriders have started wearing tags so we can be
identified when we lose our faces."

Kavra pulled at a leather cord around the man's neck. Hanging from it and tucked into the front of
his armor was a piece of metal with something scratched on it. "Aldeg Elton," she read. She shook
her head. "Didn't know him. Mantlemorn, did you?"

"No," he said. He read the tag of the other Hellrider. "Lor Pohle." He sighed, "Damn. I didn't
really know him, but I'd met him."

"We need to bring them inside," she said.

"Bringing one body along is hard enough," Lythienne cautioned. "Three will be difficult. Let's
leave them here for now. We can secure the area first and bring them after we know the area is
safe."

Kavra grimaced. "Dammit, fine. They should be safe enough out here for a little bit."
"Maybe you all could stay out here," suggested Pariah. "Keep an eye on them but also watch the
gate so nothing comes up behind us. We'll check inside. You yell if you need help."

"That's a good plan," she admitted. "You just need to clear a path to the central altar." She stiffly
drew her swords while Harkina readied her bow. They watched the courtyard along with Lulu and
the boys, while the rest of the group headed up the stairs towards the archway leading into the
cathedral.

Pariah could hear something from inside. She turned a puzzled look on Lythienne. "Voices,"
Lythienne whispered to her. "But they are screaming. I can't make out words."

They advanced to the archway, which led into a wide hallway that stretched left and right. Ahead
were two wooden doors about twenty feet apart, both smashed open, and beyond that she could see
a large chamber. She peered down the hall to the left and saw it stretched about a hundred feet
before ending. She saw no doors or other openings. Four columns down the center were carved
into the likeness of a female devil wielding a flaming sword; she guessed that was not what they
normally looked like. The walls were decorated with paintings and mosaics, though she couldn't
see what most of them depicted. The work she could see, a painting hung between the doors in
front of them, was a graphic depiction of a devil tearing the intestines out of a screaming man.

The hall was the same to the right so they started to move forward, one of them towards each door.
The voices from inside grew louder as she crossed the hall but she still couldn't make out any
words. It didn't sound like fighting, or even screams of pain, just yelling. The room past the
doorway spanned the width of the cathedral. Two staircases in the center of the room spiraled
upward. There was more art here, statues and paintings all twisted into infernal mockeries of what
they had been. Decorative curtains hung across openings at the far end of the room. Although most
of the curtains were torn, there was enough material left to prevent her from getting a clear view of
what was beyond. The voices were coming from there.

They edged into the chamber, carefully scanning for threats. Sconces burning with magical flame
lit the room brightly, leaving no shadows that could be hiding enemies. The ceiling was more than
twice her height overhead and that seemed to be the bottom of a balcony, because beyond the
staircases the ceiling rose to more than twice that height. The left and right walls each had two sets
of heavy iron shutters, closed to keep out invading forces.

Pariah advanced into the room, using the staircase ahead as cover from whatever was beyond the
curtains. The voices were either raving incoherently or shouting in a language she didn't
understand. She could also hear the sound of items being smashed or knocked over. Another voice
was snapping orders in a language she did know: Infernal. "Stop it!" it shouted. "Pay attention. No,
don't do that. Get that out of your mouth! What is wrong with you?"

She leaned out from the staircase and between the torn gaps of the curtains she could see humanoid
shapes moving around. They were making enough noise that it was easy for her to sneak closer.
She and Lythienne got into position, and then waved for Ryland to join them while Rowan and
Farima set up by the stairs to attack from a distance.

The curtain shifted and a red-haired human man came into the foyer near Lythienne and Ryland.
He looked around, not seeing them at first. Pariah could see his eyes were wild and spittle dripped
from his lips. His gaze fell on Pariah and his mouth opened, but Lythienne stepped out and
pounded him with her fists. The plan had probably been to take him down quietly, but he just
whirled on her with a roar.

Ryland moved up and slashed viciously with his swords, but the man wouldn't go down. He was
too far away to engage quickly, so Pariah sent a ray of icy energy at him while Rowan and Farima
also attacked with spells of their own. He finally fell, but the element of surprise had been lost.

A small shape flew out from between the curtains and Pariah recognized the form of a spined devil.
"Get out here, you idiots!" it called back through the curtain in Infernal. "Kill these people." It
might have had more to say, but Ryland charged forward with a roar and his two swords cut it out
of the air.

A bearded half-orc man came running out from behind the curtain swinging a rusty scimitar. He
caught Ryland by surprise and the blade stabbed deeply in the Hellrider's side before he could turn
and defend himself. Pariah started to move to help him, but another man came out and attacked
her. He was human. One of his eyes was gouged out and blood still trickled from the empty socket.
The other eye shone madly as he slashed and stabbed at her with a dagger. His speed caught her by
surprise and the blade cut a shallow wound between her glove and the sleeve of her armor.

Ryland was equally ferocious in his attacks against his opponent, staying on the offensive even as
blood started to stream down his side. Lythienne moved to help, but then an elf man wearing
broken glasses came out from behind the curtain to attack her with a mace. Farima and Rowan
continued to provide support when they could, and Pariah could see Rowan running towards
Ryland.

That division of Pariah's attention cost her as she missed a parry. The point of the dagger slipped
past the bottom of her breastplate and sank between her ribs. She reflexively cried out, pain
blossoming in her lung as she inhaled. Returning her focus to her own battle, she scored a wound
on the man but it didn't slow him down.

She was finding it hard to breathe. Her thrusts didn't manage to hit home, but his did as he scored
more small wounds against her. It was all she could do to just hold her own. "I need help," she
called out as she shifted into a purely defensive stance, hoping the others could come support her.

A bolt of energy hit the man but he continued his single-minded attack against her. He slipped past
her sloppy defense to sink the dagger into her shoulder, and her sword dropped out of her hand. He
kicked her hard in the ankle and her foot twisted out from under her. She went down on one knee.
She couldn't even move aside as the dagger plunged towards her throat. Suddenly, the man grunted
and his stab went wide as Ryland's swords slashed at him.

Pariah felt the world fading as the wounds took their toll. The man turned away from her to face
his new opponent. Distantly she heard Lythienne say, "Pariah calls on reserves of hidden strength
to keep fighting."

A trickle of energy came into her, just enough to push back the darkness that was closing in. She
saw her sword on the ground and reached down to grab it. She put everything she had into one
thrust, pain screaming in her injured shoulder. The point of the rapier stabbed through his kidney.
Healing energy flowed up the blade from his body as he pitched forward.

Her stamina gone, Pariah released the hilt of her sword, grabbed her shoulder with the other hand
to try to stop the pain, and fell sideways onto the ground. "Pariah!" Rowan called out and then the
woman was at her side.

Pariah couldn't hear fighting anymore. She looked up at Rowan and forced a weak smile. "Did we
win?" she asked.

"We won," Rowan said in relief. "Let me stop that bleeding." She turned. "Farima, get the others.
We need to get into the crypts now."
Pariah felt some of the pain fade as Rowan prayed over her. It wasn't gone, but it was less and she
felt strong enough to sit up. Kavra, Lulu, Harkina and her sons had joined them. Kavra looked them
over and said, "Well, I guess I'm not the most injured anymore."

Pariah looked over the rest of the group. Ryland and Lythienne looked as bad as she felt. Lythienne
had a nasty gash across her temple that looked like she had nearly avoided losing an eye herself.
Ryland had his hand pressed against the wound in his side and was being tended to by Rowan.

"That's all I can do for now," Rowan said, exhaustion in her voice. She turned to Kavra. "We aren't
going to survive another fight. Where are we going?"

Kavra moved the curtain aside. "Right there," she said nodding towards the next room. Pariah
struggled to her feet to look. It was another large chamber with at least three curtained alcoves she
could see. In the middle was a raised dais and atop that was an altar of polished golden-brown
wood in the shape of a gauntleted fist.

Pariah retrieved her sword and followed Kavra as she led them to the altar. She tried to stay alert to
her surrounding but she knew her senses were dulled right now. Kavra stopped at the altar and
looked around, carefully peering at the curtained alcoves. "We need to be careful," she said. "This
is the main entrance to the crypts. We don't want them to know about it."

When she was satisfied that there were no enemies nearby, she reached out to a large lever that was
set into the floor next to the altar. She pulled it and the fingers of the fist opened with a clanking
noise. The wooden hand now lay open and flat. Kavra looked around again, and then placed her
hands in the palm of the wooden hand. She pushed down hard and a panel under her fingers
opened, revealing a hole just wide enough to take a single person. Pariah looked into the hole and
could see a steep staircase leading down.

Kavra said, "Mantlemorn, you go first. When you get to the bottom knock three times and then two
times. If our people are there, they should open the door. I'll come last and seal this up."
Reluctantly she added, "We'll have to send someone out for the bodies later."

"I will follow," said Farima. "In case there is more danger."

"You aren't really a front line fighter," Pariah said.

"Yes, but I am the only one who is uninjured. I suggest Rowan come after me as she is only
moderately wounded."

Pariah looked around and had to agree. "Right," she said. "We'll make sure nothing follows you
down."

She turned her attention to their surroundings, hoping there weren't any more devil patrols. She
reminded herself that she still had a couple of healing potions if another attack happened, but she'd
rather wait on those if she could.

She heard three knocks and then two come from down in the hole. After a moment, she heard a
muffled voice. Ryland replied, "Private Ryland Mantlemorn reporting. I have refugees and
wounded." She heard the scrape of stone on stone and then a voice said something she didn't catch.
Ryland called up the stairs, "It's okay. Come on down."

One by one they entered the hole and descended the steep staircase. Pariah waited until everyone
but Kavra had gone and then took her turn. The lieutenant climbed in behind her, closed the panel,
and then pulled a different lever mounted by the staircase. Pariah heard the clank of the
mechanical linkage as the altar above her clenched its fist again.

Feeling a bit safer than she had, Pariah turned her attention downwards. She climbed down the
steps, her hands on each side of the narrow passage to steady herself, and passed through the door
into the crypts.

The room she entered was walled in gray brick. It was a large space, but it was currently crowded
with over a hundred people who watched the newcomers with the same empty gaze Pariah had
seen in the other Elturel residents she had met. The crowding was made worse by the couple dozen
sarcophagi that were placed in the room. She also saw two large basins, presumably holy water
fonts. Standing by one of them was a haggard woman with matted gray hair who was clutching a
large, leather-bound tome protectively and staring at the group intently. Pariah scanned the group,
but no orange-haired gnomes stood out among them.

Another woman was pushing through the crowd. She was tall and muscular, her blonde hair cut
jaggedly as though she'd trimmed it with a dagger. She wore Hellrider armor and, when Ryland and
Kavra saw her, they both came to attention and put their arms over their chests in salute.

"Captain, Private Ryland Mantlemorn reporting. I have news for your ears only."

"I think," Kavra corrected him, "that perhaps we should talk to the entire council."

"Er, yes," Ryland added with a stammer. "Sorry, captain. I'm not sure of the command structure
here."

The woman looked over the two of them silently, then turned her gaze on the rest of the group,
stopping for a moment to stare at Lulu expressionlessly. She turned to the gray-haired woman and
said, "Take them into the council room. I'll get the others."

As the Hellrider captain walked into the crowd, the gray-haired woman said to Ryland, "Follow
me," in a tired voice. She seemed surprised when the others came along but she said nothing. As
they walked away, Pariah saw Harkina and her sons had left them and she was currently embracing
an older woman who was crying with relief.

The gray-haired woman took them down a corridor that led out of the crypt chamber towards a
crude wooden palisade where two armored figures, one Hellrider and one who seemed to be a
member of the City Watch, stood guard. Right before the barricade, she turned into a side corridor
which led down a few steps into an oval room dominated by a large, red oak table surrounded by
chairs. By the time the group had settled in, several more people had entered. In addition to the
captain there were three men: a greasy-haired blonde man wearing a heavy green coat, a man with
thick chestnut hair who looked over the newcomers with a calculating expression, and a dark-
skinned man Pariah recognized as Duke Ravengard. Kavra and Ryland both leapt to attention.

Ravengard took the seat at the head of the table while the others settled near him. He ran his eyes
over the group, stopping momentarily on Lulu who was sitting on the table between Farima and
Lythienne. "Sit," he said to the Hellriders in a rich baritone voice. As they did so, he said, "You
bring news from the Shieldhall?"

"Well," Kavra started, "yes and no. I'm from the Shieldhall but they aren't. They claim they've
come from Candlekeep to investigate the city's disappearance."

There was a shocked silence. Ravengard didn't react more than to raise his eyebrows. His gaze
turned on Ryland. "Have you? And what have your investigations revealed?"
"Well...uh...sir..." he stammered.

Lythienne suggested, "How about if I tell the story?"

"No," Ryland said sharply. "Um, I mean, thank you." He took a breath and composed himself.
"They won't believe you. I didn't. It should come from me." He turned to address his companions
and said, "And I think we should tell them everything."

There was no objection from the others, so Ryland turned back to Ravengard. "Sir, the story I'm
about to tell you may seem hard to accept." He paused and turned to the captain and Kavra,
"Especially for you two, sirs. Everything we Hellriders have been told, have been taught to believe
in, is a lie. It's been hard for me to accept it, but I swear by the Creed that everything I'm about to
say is the truth."

He turned back to Ravengard and launched into a rambling but accurate portrayal of the facts of the
situation, from the true story of the Charge of the Hellriders to Zariel's fall to Kreeg's betrayal to
Duke Vanthampur's involvement to Sylvira's plan to Traxigor's flight. The others helped him
where they could. Lythienne added details about her brother and his experience. Farima and
Rowan were able to provide additional historical insight. Pariah stayed silent; she noticed one fact
that Ryland omitted was the involvement of Levistus.

Ravengard listened to the story dispassionately. The two Hellriders seemed the most affected by
the facts revealed, but even their reactions were muted, nothing more than a slight deepening of the
despair they clearly already felt.

The duke was deep in thought after Ryland finished. "And this wizard," he said. "If he doesn't
reappear, do you have any way back?"'

"No, sir," Ryland replied despondently.

"Any way to contact the scholar at Candlekeep?"

"No, sir."

"What do you think she'll do when the group doesn't return?"

Ryland didn't have an answer for that. Lythienne said, "I suspect that she'll simply give up and
move on. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but this undertaking was a desperate act. I don't think she
expected it to yield useful information even if we had been successful."

He knitted his brow. "She had no idea at all how to save the city?"

"Well, she did suggest killing Zariel or negotiating with her to free Elturel," Lythienne said dryly.

"You're not going to kill Zariel!" Lulu said hotly in her high-pitched voice. "She's my friend! I don't
know why she's doing those things they say she is. She gets grumpy, but she's not evil! If I talk to
her I know I can cheer her up and everything will be OK."

Ravengard said, "You know her?"

"Yes! I've been her friend for...well a long time. I'm not sure how long it would be in the mortal
world. Since right after the fall of Avernus."

That statement seemed to confuse everyone in the room. "Fall of Avernus?" he asked.
"Yes. Back when Avernus was a paradise, Zariel was a lieutenant of Ashmedai, who led an army
against the forces of Elysium to claim Avernus for Mount Celestia. But then Ashmedai betrayed
Heaven and claimed Avernus for the Eight Hells, making it the ninth. Some followed him and
became devils. He changed his name to Asmodeus. Zariel and others broke away and went back to
Heaven. Zariel was recovering in Lunia, and that's where I'm from. We met and we've been best
friends ever since!"

"And you think you can just talk to her and convince her to stop," he said in a voice dripping with
skepticism.

"Oh, yes," she said brightly, either missing his tone or ignoring it. "Zariel is cranky and likes to
fight, but I can usually talk her out of her bad temper." She looked thoughtful. "Maybe that's why
she's doing bad things. I haven't been there to cheer her up." Desperately she said, "I just have to
talk to her."

"Well, we'll keep that in mind," he said dismissively. He turned to the newcomers and looked them
over. "And what did you people expect to get out of this?"

They were confused. "Get out of this?" Rowan asked. "What do you mean?"

"Gold. Glory. Promotion. What?"

Pariah couldn't hold her tongue. Sharply she said, "I know this may come as a surprise to someone
who runs a band of cutthroat mercenaries, but some people do things simply because it's the right
thing to do."

Ravengard snorted. "Well, aren't you the noble heroes," he said with sarcasm.

"Perhaps," Lythienne interjected before Pariah could give a harsh response, "you could fill us in on
the current situation. The lieutenant here," she nodded at Kavra, "has given us some information on
the city in general, but not a lot of detail on the circumstances here in the High Hall. You could
start by introducing us to your council."

Ravengard and Pariah continued to glare at each other for a moment before he turned to Lythienne.
"I'm Grand Duke Ravengard, but I suppose you know that. I'm in command here." He indicated the
gray-haired woman with the book. "This is Acolyte Pherria Jynks, who represents the Church of
Torm." He nodded at the man in the green coat. "Acting Secretary Wöbaer Triest, representing the
civilian government." He turned to the man with the calculating expression. "Ambassador Lor
Ryken who is in charge of logistics. And finally," he motioned to the woman, "Captain Hilde Kaas,
in charge of the Hellriders."

"In charge of the local Hellriders, Your Grace" Kavra said.

Ravengard grimaced. "Yes," he said in an annoyed tone. "Captain Grogum Stask leads the
Hellriders stationed at Helm's Shieldhall."

He returned his attention to the newcomers. "We've secured the High Hall, or so I had thought, and
have turned our attention to the surrounding neighborhoods. I had hoped to occupy the bridges
because we've heard rumors of a large cache of supplies at the docks. However, we were hit by a
large attack force a few hours ago. Unfortunately, many of our troops were out on these other
missions so we were forced to retreat here. We were hoping they would return to reinforce us and
allow us to retake the Hall." He looked them over with a shrewd eye. "You all obviously saw some
fighting on your way here. Maybe you can make yourselves useful by joining us as we drive off
the devils that are patrolling the rest of the catacombs. Jynks, can you heal them up?"
 "Yes, Your Grace," Jynks said hesitantly. "I'll do the best I can."

"We'd be better off with some rest first," said Lythienne.

"Rest is a luxury we don't have," he said sternly. "They've attacked our barricades a half dozen
times since we came down here. It's only a matter of time until they break through. If we don't
recapture the upper levels soon, we won't be able to hold them off."

Pariah suddenly felt her blood run cold. "Talona's tits, not now," she said in annoyance. She started
to stand, leaning heavily on the oak table before the world faded into muted colors and sounds, and
her flesh turned to ice.

"They waste your potential with trivial tasks," said the sinister voice in her head. "Military minds
will not save this city. Their future, your future, lie elsewhere. Leave these fools and head down to
the surface. Only in Avernus will you find this city's salvation."

She was painfully aware of the others listening in, others she might not want to know her secret.
"Why? What happens then?" she asked.

"In time. For now, all you need to know is you must leave the city to save it. I give you the ability
to descend to the surface so you can better serve me."

"No! Tell me more! What will save the city?"

The cold intensified and his tone hardened. "My patience with your defiance last time seems to
have fooled you into thinking you are the master and I the slave. Obey me or do not. Stay here and
die with these creatures of weak flesh if you wish, for after your death you will still be mine to
command. Or follow my path, gain power, and perhaps save this collection of fragile souls before
they, too, fall into the Hells."

His presence faded and the room around her swam back into her awareness. She was leaning over
the table, head down, palms pressed into the polished wood to hold herself up. As she regained
control of her body she looked up.

Everyone else was on their feet as well. Ravengard and the Hellriders, other than Ryland, had their
swords out and pointed at her. Jynks was holding out a pendant of a clenched fist, reciting a
protection prayer in a shaky voice and clutching the book she carried even more tightly. The other
two council members were cowering behind the table.

Pariah turned to see her companions were standing as well, staring at her with apprehension.
Rowan clutched her own holy symbol and Farima's hands were half raised into a spellcasting
gesture. Ryland's weapons weren't drawn but his hands were on their hilts, and Lythienne held
herself like a coiled spring. Lulu watched Pariah intently, her head cocked to one side.

"What?" Pariah asked. "What is it?"

Chapter End Notes

I posted a couple of days early because I'm going to be busy the rest of the week. I'm
still on the two-week schedule, so next chapter will be posted Friday, May 21.
Pariah's final line is a deliberate nod to my favorite anime, "Madoka Magica",
specificially the end of Episode 6: Nani? Nanna no?

I felt the hell hound encounter as written was too easy. I wanted a tough fight to get
them pretty beaten up. I saw that the module says there are "two humans in plate
armor lying dead on the ground near the shattered gate, blood still oozing from their
bite wounds." It wasn't too hard to decide they were recently killed Hellriders, just
waiting to rise at a dramatically appropriate time. Two hell hounds and two merregons
makes for a fun time.

As for the second attack, I wanted them to be near death by the time this chapter was
over. I ran it as written but the battle went too well in the first round so I added one
more bad guy in round 2 and it worked out perfectly. Pariah got to 0 HP before
Lythienne's Healing Word brought her out of it, and currently has three wounds under
my Lingering Injuries system! She, Lythienne and Ryland are each at 4-5 HP.

There are a lot of pieces of the Alexandrian Remix in this chapter. The fact that the
secret entrance in the altar leads directly into the main crypt is part of his remapping of
the High Hall. There is another secret door that leads into the crypts in another altar,
H6 on the module map, but it has been torn open by the devils. That makes it obvious
to the players, but requires them to fight their way through the catacombs to the crypt.

The alternate history of Lulu, Zariel and Asmodeus comes from him as well, as does
Ravengard being present at the High Hall and the members of his council (other than
Jynks). As the author points out, Ravengard going to the cemetery only serves "to
needlessly deprotagonize the PCs". They should be the heroes, not him.

And now, another little rant about Forgotten Realms canon.

I've been reading a bit more of the lore while writing this story and I just have to ask:
how do people survive with so many world-shaking, or at least city-shaking, events
going on? It's been only twelve years since the events of Murder in Baldur's Gate.
Pariah would have known people killed by Flaming Fist soldiers at the High Hall
protests, or people executed on trivial charges during Ravengard's illegal tribunals. I've
written her to dislike the Flaming Fist, but she'd despise them, Ravengard especially, if
she'd lived through that.

Plus it's only been 5 years since the genasi were overthrown in Calimshan so that
should really be a part of Farima's history. Lythienne has lived through the Time of
Troubles and the Spellplague. Elturel getting sucked into the Nine Hells isn't a
particularly unusual day for the Sword Coast!

And yet, I just don't want to write all of this into their backstories. Some of these
events screw up the histories I've already created for them. Plus it would require even
more research to try to make sense of this complicated web of magic and gods and
narrowly averted world-ending catastrophes and Mystra dying but she's not really dead
and now she's back but she's not really back but now she's back for real or maybe she's
dead again I've lost track, and by the way who's the God of the Dead this week?

So a lot of canon history just doesn't exist in my story. It's gotten too nonsensical over
the years to try to make sense of it all.
 A Safe Place
Chapter Summary

Pariah comes out of another encounter with Levistus to find the residents of High Hall
surrounding her, weapons bare and fear on their faces.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Wait!" shouted Rowan, putting her metal hand up, fingers spread, to stop the soldiers. "It's okay.
She's a friend. Ryland, tell them."

Ryland stammered a bit, but said, "Yes, sir, it's true. I've been with her for weeks. She's on our
side."

Pariah's mind was foggy, as it usually was after an encounter with Levistus, and she couldn't make
sense of what was happening around her. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Your disguise spell slipped," said Rowan.

"Oh," she said, realization dawning. People afraid of devilish infiltrators wouldn't be happy when
someone like her appeared in their midst.

"And, well, there's something else," Rowan added, nodding at a point over Pariah's shoulder.

Pariah turned her head and saw something on the edge of her vision. She turned to get a better look
and it moved away as she did. She kept turning to follow as it moved away, causing her to go full
circle. She stopped, focused, and tried to make sense out of what she was seeing.

"Are those mine?" she asked nobody in particular. Then in frustration she demanded, "Why the
fuck do I have wings?" Pale, leathery wings shot through with blue veins sprouted from her back.

"Sir," Ryland continued, "uh, your dukeness, sir."

"Your Grace," Kavra muttered to Ryland.

"Uh, Your Grace. Sir. She fought against Zariel's cult, and she fought devils here. I swear she's not
an enemy."

"She did charge in to help me," Kavra admitted. "I was kind of half-conscious so I didn't see a lot,
but I'm pretty sure if it wasn't for her I'd be dead right now." She pursed her lips. "Or worse."

"You can talk to the woman who came in with us," said Farima. "Pariah threw herself into a devil's
blade to save the woman's son."

"I did?" Pariah said in surprise. Then, as the ache in her hip reminded her of the event, she said,
"Oh, yeah, I guess I did."

"She's a tiefling, not a devil," said Lythienne. "And she has been the strongest advocate for our
coming here to help the people of Elturel. None of us would be here now if she hadn't pressed the
matter."

Ravengard hadn't taken his eyes off of Pariah during these testimonies, and he still stared at her
down the length of his sword. "Tieflings don't have wings," he said.

"Hey, these are new," Pariah said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. "Like 'right now' new. I
don't know where they came from."

"It's true," said Rowan. "We've never seen those before."

Emotions flitted across his face but finally he lowered his weapon slightly. "I'm not happy that you
chose to come here in disguise."

"Would you have let me in if I'd looked like this?" Pariah asked, pointing to her face.

After a moment he admitted, "Perhaps not," but he didn't put away his weapon.

"Perhaps I can be of help," said Jynks. Still clutching her symbol, she said, "Torm, I beseech you to
reveal all evil before me." She stared intently at Pariah and then slowly ran her gaze over the other
newcomers, including Kavra. After her inspection, she relaxed. "There are no fiends here," she
reported.

Ravengard didn't seem completely satisfied, but he grudgingly sheathed his sword. "Stand down,"
he said to the others and the tension in the room faded slightly.

The council resumed their seats. Pariah started to sit but realized Farima was next to her, studying
her wings intently. "What?" Pariah asked.

"I do not understand how you can have wings," Farima said distractedly.

"Neither do I. I don't know where they came from."

"No, I mean I don't understand how you can have wings. You are wearing armor. How can they
suddenly have grown?" She made a thoughtful noise. "Curious. They are not actually attached to
you. They appear to float a finger's-breadth above your back." She reached out to touch them.

Pariah furrowed her brow. "I can't feel that," she said.

"Are they, perhaps, magical? Something to do with your..." She hesitated, and then said,
"...growing power?" Pariah was grateful she hadn't said anything about Levistus.

However, now that Farima had said that, something clicked in her mind, like knowledge that had
been placed there by something outside. They were magical. She could summon and dismiss them,
though not often. She looked over her shoulder and concentrated. The wings stretched out and then
drew into her back before disappearing completely.

"Fascinating," said Farima.

"Shall we continue?" Ravengard said sharply.

Farima looked up in surprise. "Oh, of course. My apologies, Your Grace." She returned to her seat,
as did Pariah.

Ravengard was still frowning at Pariah. "You said some things about the city right before you
changed. Like you were talking to someone. What was that?"
"Oh, that," Pariah said, her mind racing. "I get these things like visions. There is a voice that
sometimes tells me to do things. It said that we need to go down to surface of Avernus to save
Elturel."

She felt the reactions of her companions to that news but she kept her eyes on Ravengard. "And
you trust this voice?" he asked.

"Well, no, not really. I don't know what he wants. But he did lead us here," she pointed to the
table's surface. "And I mean here, to the crypts in High Hall."

"I definitely do not trust this voice," said Farima, and Pariah cursed silently. Don't say it, she
thought. They don't need to know. With difficulty, Farima added, "We have not followed this
creature's advice blindly, but I will admit that we were able to help people in Baldur's Gate while
on this path."

"You came from Baldur's Gate?" he asked. Ryland's story had mentioned the events in Baldur's
Gate, but not their personal histories.

"Yes," Farima said, "though some of us were just visiting the city. We were investigating a cult
that worshipped the Dead Three, and our investigations revealed Duke Vanthampur was behind
them as well as her own Zariel-worshipping cult."

"Bane's balls," Ravengard muttered. "We're still recovering from all that nonsense with the
Bhaalspawn a few years ago, and now this. How is the city doing?"

"Honestly, not well," Farima admitted. "In addition to the problems caused by the cults, the
refugees from Elturel came to the city. It has created a complicated situation that has been difficult
to control. When we left, Commander Portyr had been called in from Chult to help restore order."

"Liara?" he grunted. "Well, that's some good news at least. How is..." He broke off and shook his
head. "No, I'll ask about home later. We have more immediate concerns."

He surveyed the newcomers again. "Are you planning to go down to the surface then?"

The group looked at each other. "We haven't had a chance to discuss it," said Lythienne. "I'm not
sure we'd thought past getting here and hoping to find Traxigor. I, for one, am not keen to set foot
in the Hells proper."

"But we have to go to the surface," Lulu insisted. "We have to find Zariel."

"We need to rest a day or two before we do anything," Rowan said. "And I'm hoping that Traxigor
will appear in that time."

That answer didn't seem to please the duke. "As I said, we could use your help recapturing the
cathedral and the rest of the castle grounds, and that needs to happen sooner rather than later. I
don't want to give the fiends a chance to gain a foothold."

Ryken, the calculating man, added, "Plus, most of our supplies are stored in the outer towers. We
don't have enough here to last more than two or three days."

"We left three Hellrider bodies in the courtyard," Kavra said. "I'd like to bring them inside."

Captain Kaas looked concerned. "Do you know who?" she asked.

Kavra reached into a pouch and withdrew the two identity tags she had taken off the bodies. She
tossed them across the table towards Kaas, and said, "The third was one of ours."

Kaas looked at the names on the tags with a resigned sigh.

"Look, I'm not saying we won't help," Rowan said to Ravengard a little sternly. "I'm saying we are
all beat up, and that we need to rest before making any plans. I see your point that having the High
Hall as a base will be valuable, but charging out and dying isn't going to help anyone."

"In addition to our injuries," Farima noted, "we are all exhausted. I am uninjured, but my most
powerful magics are spent. While I am willing to support your forces, right now I would be of less
help than I would be later. I respect your military experience and, if you feel that it is necessary to
launch a sortie now, I will lend what aid I can."

"We do have healing potions," Lythienne added. "We could always refresh ourselves if we need to
act quickly."

Ravengard opened his mouth to respond when he was interrupted by a distant shout from outside.
"Enemy at the south barricade!"

He leapt to his feet, drawing his sword. "Kaas, Jynks, with me. Everyone else, stay here."

As they moved to the door, Farima said, "Your Grace, we can help."

"Stay here!" he said harshly. "I haven't decided if I trust you yet. The fact the devils attacked right
after you got here might not be a coincidence." He turned to Kavra. "Lieutenant, watch them. If
they try to leave, yell for help." He jogged out into the hall and shouted towards the nearby
soldiers, "Nobody leaves that room."

"Rude!" said Farima, clearly offended.

"That's the goddamn Fist for you," Pariah said, fuming.

They could hear the distant sounds of combat coming from the other barricade and it frustrated
Pariah to just be sitting there. Then a guard from right outside the council room bellowed, "Enemy
at the north barricade!"

"Fuck this," said Pariah, reaching for a healing potion. "Farima, go to the other barricade. Support
them as best you can and let us know what's going on. Lythienne, Ryland, hang back. Anything
gets past me, make damn sure it doesn't get to the crypt. Lulu, Rowan, go to the crypt. Be ready to
support either side." She gulped down the foul tasting potion.

"Now, wait," Kavra started. "Duke Ravengard said-"

"I don't work for him!" she snapped. Her stomach twisted as the vile liquid went down but she
could feel its energies closing some of her wounds. She could also feel power left over from her
interaction with Levistus, and she pulled it into an icy sheen on her armor.

As Pariah drew her sword, Rowan said, "Pariah, wait." Pariah turned to her, annoyed that she'd try
to prevent her from helping, but Rowan added quickly, "You go out looking like that, they are
going to think you are the enemy."

Pariah grimaced, remembering that her spell had faded. She took a breath, focused on the image
she had created before, and changed herself to look human again. "Now go," she said to Rowan.

She stepped out into the corridor to see a half dozen Zarielite cultists assaulting the barricade just
outside the council room. Behind them was some kind of fiend Pariah didn't recognize. It was
winged and long limbed with white skin, and it wielded a large blade. It's elongated snout was
stained with blood and long, sharp teeth were visible as it exhorted its troops in a language Pariah
didn't recognize. It certainly wasn't Infernal.

The corridor was narrow enough that only two abreast could fight. Pariah fired a bolt of cold
energy past the two holding the barricades, downing one cultist who was smashing at the crude
palisade. As soon as he went down, another rushed forward to take his place. The Hellrider took
down another, but then the barricade collapsed. The two soldiers fell back as the enemy surged
forward. The watchman was quickly overwhelmed and went down in a flash of blades.

Pariah rushed up to take his place, striking a defensive stance. However her shoulder still hurt,
interfering with her swordplay, and she missed a parry as one of the cultists slashed at her. Her icy
armor blocked the blow, and the cold energy traveled up his weapon and enveloped him. He
collapsed as the Hellrider dropped another. The two remaining cultists advanced, stepping over the
bodies of their comrades, but Pariah and the Hellrider made short work of them.

The devil rushed forward with a roar. With one hand it struck with its blade, slashing at Pariah. She
dodged, but not quickly enough, and the weapon slammed into her sword arm. The cold traveled
up the blade as it had before, but the energy just washed harmlessly over the creature. Meanwhile,
with its other hand it launched an unexpected attack on the Hellrider, raking its claws across his
face. Pariah landed a deep stab in its belly and it snapped at her reflexively. She drew back, barely
avoiding its bloody fangs.

She and the Hellrider wore it down, but they were both wounded and tired. The fiend slashed again
at the Hellrider and its claws tore into his throat. The Hellrider grabbed at the spurting blood,
choking as he slumped against the wall. The fiend shoved Pariah aside and charged past her.

"Stop him!" she shouted towards the others as she turned her attention on the Hellrider. She
reached into the satchel at her waist and grabbed the first piece of cloth her fingertips touched, a
spare shirt. She pressed the material against the wound in the Hellrider's throat, trying to push hard
enough to staunch the bleeding without choking him. She turned to the others and yelled,
"Someone get Rowan."

The fiend had reached Ryland and Lythienne. Its sword cut at Ryland while its claws went for
Lythienne, knocking them both aside. It tried to rush past them as well but Lythienne shoved off
from the wall to plant herself in its path. With a look of intense determination, she stabbed her tanto
in its throat until the point came out the back of his neck. She looked down at it coldly as it fell at
her feet.

Pariah was pressing down on the cloth with both hands, wishing she'd had the presence of mind to
reach for her other healing potion instead. She didn't want to take a hand off of the crude bandage
to grab it. The man was unconscious and, from his pallor, she guessed he was moments away from
dying and transforming. They didn't need another enemy at the moment.

She was pleased to see Rowan come running down the hall. "Quickly," Pariah said. "Can you stop
the bleeding?"

"I'll try," Rowan said, kneeling next to them. She mumbled a prayer and put her hand over Pariah's.
Pariah felt the energy moving through her to the wound beneath. She gently released the pressure
and no blood spurted through the cloth. She put the back of her hand against the man's mouth and
felt that he was breathing.

Pariah felt relief as she settled back on her heels. She looked down the hall towards where the
enemy had come from but heard nothing more.

Rowan was checking the watchman. "He's alive, too," she said. "Not by much, though."

"Let's move them into the crypts. They'll be safer there." Pariah said as she struggled back to her
feet. "Tell Ravengard he needs to put someone else on this barricade." She realized she had never
heard from Farima. She squeezed her earring and said, "Farima, is everything all right?"

"Yes," came the woman's breathless voice. "We are secure here. A fiend with a horde of some kind
of bat creatures. We were able to stop them here. One moment." She paused. "Grand Duke
Ravengard says we should reconvene in the council room."

"Later," Pariah said sharply. "We're going to deal with the wounded first." She turned to the others.
"You two..." She stopped when she realized Lythienne was looking at her tanto with a frown.
"What's wrong?" Pariah asked.

"I don't know," the elf said. "I can't seem to get the blood of this creature off my blade." Pariah
could see the blood had left a spidery pattern on the weapon silvered surface. Lythienne scrubbed it
with a cloth in her other hand but the pattern seemed etched into the metal.

Housekeeping didn't seem important at the moment. Pariah said, "You two, grab the other guard.
Rowan and I will take this one." She grunted at the pain in her shoulder as she lifted the armored
man by his armpits while Rowan got his feet.

She felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Kavra standing nearby. "Thank you," the woman said
earnestly. "You saved his life. Not only that, you saved him from turning."

Pariah gave her a one-shouldered shrug. "He'd probably have done the same for me. No big deal."

They carried the wounded soldiers into the main crypt area, Lulu fluttering nervously around them
as they did. Jynks was there and directed them to take the men to an area where three other
wounded soldiers were already resting. Ravengard was there as well. "I thought I told you to stay
put," he said in a disapproving tone.

"You did," said Pariah, not looking at him. "We didn't." She continued to ignore him as they
lowered the bodies onto bedding that had been laid out.

"I'll stay here and tend to them," said Jynks.

Pariah said, "Rowan, why don't you stay with her? She could probably use some help."

"We aren't finished talking," said Ravengard.

"She's needed here," Pariah said firmly.

"It's fine," Rowan interjected. "I'll come along. We've gotten them past the worst of it. Pherria, call
me if you need help."

They filed back into the room. Pariah saw that the corridor guard had already been replaced, and
the two soldiers were piling the bodies of the cultists and the fiend to form a grim temporary
barricade.

As they returned to their seats, Ravengard snapped, "Sagestalker, what happened here?"

She leapt to her feet with a wince, and then snapped to attention. "The enemy assaulted the
northern barricade. The newcomers went out to help hold the line. They were able to successfully
hold the corridor."

"Did I not tell you they weren't to leave the room?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. I told them to stay. They refused. I was not in any condition to physically restrain them."
She hesitated and then added, "If they hadn't helped, then the enemy would have broken through.
Adley would be dead, and Sturms would be worse. Sir."

Ravengard raised his eyebrows. "Sit down," he said to her and then he turned to the rest of the
group and studied them with a critical eye.

"Your Grace," Lythienne said, "as we were saying, we are willing to help you. I should mention
that on our way in, we were able to overcome two hell hounds, two of the turned Hellriders, a
lesser devil and four..." She paused thoughtfully. "I do not think they were cultists, like the ones in
the corridor. I believe they were simply madmen. Well armed and armored madmen. My point is I
think we have more than proven our good faith. Mistrust within our ranks only works to the devils'
favor."

Ravengard continued staring at them silently.

"They did save my soldier, sir," Captain Kaas observed. "At great personal risk."

Rykan added, "Despite our individual differences, it is important that we ally against the greater
threats of the devils."

"The timing of their arrival seems too convenient to me," Triest said sourly. "We are short enough
on supplies without wasting them on outsiders." Ravengard turned his gaze on the man, narrowing
his eyes, and Triest blanched as he realized his error. He said nervously, "Um, not that outsiders
are necessarily not to be trusted, of course."

"Allow the others to rest," said Farima. "I am happy to accompany your soldiers and support them
as best I can to retake the cathedral."

"I'll come too," said Pariah.

"You are far too injured," said Farima.

"I'll hang back," Pariah assured her. "Stay off the front line. But I can still back them up with my
magic."

"Rowan and I should perhaps stay here," said Lythienne. "I am not much use at range, and Rowan
might be better employed caring for the wounded and counseling the despondent. And, worst case,
we can help defend this refuge if it were to be attacked again." Rowan nodded her agreement.

"Lulu, what about you?" Pariah asked.

"Oh, I'll be happy to come along and slaughter the hordes of evil," she said brightly.

Pariah saw the skepticism on Ravengard's face, so she said to him, "Don't worry. She's tougher
than she looks."

Ravengard chewed on that for a moment and then said, "Very well. Considering the victories we've
managed today, I think it's time to strike back. Kaas, lead a sortie to see if we can secure at least
the full catacombs, and ideally the upper levels as well. You three," he pointed to Farima, Pariah
 and Lulu, "will go along." He pursed his lips and said to them, "You will follow her orders. I won't
have you putting my soldiers at risk with your adventurer nonsense. Understood?" Without waiting
for an answer he said, "Good! Kaas, prepare your troops for the mission."

Chapter End Notes

Pariah's wings are a manifestation of the Fly spell. Making her grow giant devil wings
seems like the kind of dickish thing Levistus would do with his power.

I hinted back in Chapter 25 that Lulu was a problem. I was struggling to find a way to
include her. I was still writing as though she could communicate only through Celestial
and telepathy, and that was restricting her too much. When I originally got to this
point, all she was doing was hanging back with the refugees and yet I knew that wasn't
going to work going forward. After I finished this chapter, I realized I had never
mentioned her once, and yet the flying golden elephant would probably stand out. So I
had to go back and crowbar her in.

Later, when I was writing Chapter 33, I finally had to admit she wasn't working at all. I
did a lot of thinking about what to do, what her role needed to be. The other NPCs --
Ryland, Falaster, Sylvira, Little One -- all found natural places in the story, but Lulu
was little more than a plot device I kept forgetting about. I decided to go back and say
that she could speak Common. That has made it so easier to show her personality, and
she's fitting in with the group better. I'm much happier with how she's turning out now.

I mentioned in a previous chapter that I really wanted to find a way to give the
characters the +1 mace in the statue under the villa, but I couldn't find a reason that
made sense other than "hey, let's randomly smash that statue". There is a similar
situation coming up where the characters could get a +2 weapon, but only by doing
something players would never think to do. Rather than using these really contrived
method to parcel out magic items, I'm starting to follow the guidelines in Xanathar's in
terms of number of items, and finding ways to give them organically as part of the
story.

This may or may not have anything to do with Lythienne's tanto (whistles innocently).

However, I will admit that, as one of Levistus's gifts, Pariah's rapier now acts as a Rod
of the Pact Keeper +1.

I'm still on the 2-week schedule. I'm about halfway through Chapter 38 and not
widening the lead as much as I had hoped, so next chapter will go up Friday, June 4.
 A Short Rest
Chapter Summary

The group helps the soldiers to clear the High Hall and regain control. Since Traxigor
is still missing, they need to decide what their next step is.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah carefully navigated the steps leading down into the crypts. It was difficult to hold her
balance while carrying the feet of the Hellrider corpse they had retrieved from outside, even more
so since the soldier at the other end of him was moving too quickly. However, they made it inside
without dropping him and then it was easy to carry him off to the side where the bodies were being
kept for now.

"The cathedral is secured," Captain Kaas was saying to Ravengard. "The courtyard seems clear but
we haven't had a chance to recon the surrounding buildings yet. The main gates are down; that's
going to make it harder to hold the grounds. The main doors of the cathedral are intact and have
been resealed. I've put lookouts in the turrets."

Rowan and Lythienne came up to them. "So how'd it go?" Rowan asked Pariah.

"It wasn't too bad. Another one of the faceless. A couple of hell hounds. It looks like we took the
worst of it coming in."

Rowan looked her up and down. "Well, I don't see any new holes in you, so that's good."

Pariah smiled tiredly. "I stayed back this time. It was kind of nice letting someone else get bitten
and burned for once."

"And I see you found more survivors," said Lythienne, looking at the half dozen frightened people
who had joined the other refugees.

"Yeah. In fact, Rowan, you might want to..." She trailed off as she realized Rowan wasn't listening
to her, but was instead staring at the newcomers.

"Munda?" Rowan said in surprise. Then she called out more loudly, "Munda!" while waving.

Pariah looked over to see a halfling woman with unkempt brown hair and bruises on her face,
looking up at the sound of her name. The halfling saw Rowan and her jaw dropped. "Rowan?" she
said in surprise.

The two women hustled over to each other. Rowan bent down to give the other woman an
awkward hug. "Rowan," the halfling said as they pulled back from each other. "I'm so...well...not
exactly happy to see you, but you know." She gave an awkward laugh.

"I'm so glad you're alive," Rowan said. "When I heard about Elturel, I wondered what happened to
you."
"So you were here too?"

"No, we're..." Rowan hesitated. "Well, I'm not sure how much I'm supposed to tell people. Oh,
hells, who cares? We were supposed to be sort of a rescue party." She looked at the others. "No
Traxigor I gather?"

"No," said Pariah, clenching her jaw.

"Oh, I'm being rude," Rowan said. She introduced the others and then said, "This is Munda. We
were adventurers together."

Munda laughed. "If you can call it that. One bad job." She sobered and then asked hesitantly, "Do
you know how Oliver is doing?"

Rowan's smile faded. "He's...doing as well as can be expected. I go visit him when I can.
Sometimes he knows me. I saw him before we left Baldur's Gate but it was not one of his better
days."

Munda nodded sadly, and then looked at Rowan's arm in surprise. "Well, look at you! You got
fixed up."

Rowan held out her metal hand and flexed it slowly. "Right before we came here. It's definitely
made a few things easier."

"Attention, everybody," came Ravengard's voice. "We will be moving everyone upstairs into the
main cathedral. The worst of the wounded will remain here and we will turn this area into a
hospital."

"Leave the wounded in the crypt?" someone in the crowd muttered loudly. "That's a bad omen."

Ravengard scanned the crowd looking for the speaker. "This crypt is the best protected area in the
cathedral," he said sharply. "The wounded will be left here because it is safe, and in case we are
forced to fall back to this area again. Anyone who can walk, head upstairs back to the camps set up
in the chapels. Be aware we are still clearing bodies from the temple, though we hope to have that
completed soon. New people, see Ambassador Ryken for bed assignments."

Pariah and her companions joined the small group that gathered around the ambassador while most
of the survivors headed upstairs. "Mantlemorn, you come with me," Kaas said to Ryland. "You'll
bunk down with the rest of the soldiers."

"Uh, yes, sir," he said. He gave a nod to the others and then followed her up the stairs. Pariah was
sorry to see him go.

Ryken looked over the crowd and counted heads. "All of you should be fine in the south chapel.
As you exit the stairs, turn left and find a space. For the moment, we have limited bedding and
other supplies so do the best you can. Please share what you have. I am hopeful we can regain
access to the outer towers where most of our supplies are kept. "

Something occurred to Pariah and she beckoned over Ryken as the others moved to join the crowd
going up the stairs. She pulled him out of earshot of the crowd and said in a low voice, "I'm going
to need a private sleeping area."

"Oh?" he said with disapproval.

Annoyed, she pointed to her magically disguised face. "I can't maintain this while I sleep. Right
now, I think we all agree it's best I hide my true appearance."

His disapproval faded. "Yes, well, that's actually a very good point. Unfortunately, our choices are
limited. The upper level that contained residential and administrative areas is inaccessible; the
stairways have collapsed." He thought for a moment. "There are a number of small mausoleums in
the catacombs. You could sleep in one of them, though I must warn that most of them have fresh
bodies in them. Or perhaps you could try one of the store rooms in the outer buildings, though I
don't know how safe those will be until our soldiers have retaken the courtyard."

She nodded. "That might be better then the catacombs. If I could barricade the door, it would likely
be safe enough."

"And your companions? Will they be going with you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'll mention it to them. Thank you."

He harrumphed and then joined the crowd headed upstairs.

Rowan studied the slash across Lythienne's temple. "Well, that's the best I can do," she said. "You
are probably going to have a scar there."

"I suppose I'll just have to wear my hair differently," Lythienne replied. "And cosmetics cover a
world of sins. Thank you for looking at it."

Lulu said, "It makes you look tough and scary, but in a good way."

"That's true," she said to the hollyphant with a grin, "but tough and scary isn't the look I'm going
for most of the time."

The four women and Lulu had made a rough camp in one of the store rooms. Ryland had stayed in
the cathedral with the other Hellriders, but that also meant he could keep them informed of any
attacks or other problems through the communication earrings. They had been cautious as they
crossed the courtyard, but it seemed devil attacks had subsided for the moment.

Rowan had already looked over Pariah, who was the most wounded of the bunch. The biggest
problem was her shoulder wound. The dagger had dug into the joint and it was going to take a few
days to heal from that, even with the benefit of Rowan's prayers. Until then, she'd just have to fight
through the pain.

Pariah had let her disguise spell fade now that they were alone but she was restless and anxious.
Thoughts raced through her head: thoughts of Elturel, thoughts of her companions, thoughts of their
future. With every hour that passed, it seemed less likely that Traxigor would show up. Staying in
the city would simply be waiting for the end, and yet the thought of descending into Avernus itself
filled her with dread. They hadn't talked about that yet, being immediately focused on rest and
wound care.

She'd read through the book that Little One had given her already and was halfway through a
second reading. Focusing on the words calmed her thoughts for a short while. She wondered if
there were more books in the cathedral that she could look at, or maybe even take with her if they
decided to leave the area.

The mood of the group was low. They had shared a revolting meal, audibly gagging as they forced
the food down. Rowan confirmed that her divine senses showed there was no poison or disease
here, but that didn't make the taste any more palatable even after she blessed and purified it. Farima
summoned water magically that turned out to be just as foul as everything else.

"I've been remembering some stuff," Lulu said abruptly. "You were all busy so I didn't want to say
anything."

"Oh?" Lythienne said. "What have you remembered?"

"Well, nothing super important. When we saw the river, I recognized it. I knew it was the Styx and
I knew I had been on it, but not when I came out of Avernus. I was on a boat with a woman who
had a glowing sword on her back."

"Was it Zariel?" Farima asked.

"No," she said slowly. "She wasn't an angel. She was human. But the sword, I think the sword was
Zariel's. And I knew the woman, I just can't remember her face or her name now. We were going
down the river past high cliffs. I was scared and we heard the howls of some kind of creatures
getting closer to us. That's all I remember about that.

"And then when we came into the High Hall, I know I've been here before. And that woman from
the boat was there. She was on one knee. A man was standing in front of her and asked her about
the crusade. She called him Lord Olanthius."

"He was one of the generals of the Three Armies under Zariel," Lythienne said. She looked
thoughtful. "Could the woman have been Yael? She was another one of the generals, the leader of
the Zarielites in Idyllglen."

"Yael...Yael..." Lulu said to herself. "Maybe. That sounds kind of familiar."

"Have you remembered anything else?"

"Yes." She nodded towards Pariah. "When you went down in that fight, I was afraid you were
going to die. It made me sad and I remember being sad like that once before. I was flying and
someone was on my back. I guess I was big then. She was crying too. We were flying fast over a
bunch of devils. I looked behind us and saw them all running to a place, and then this bright beam
of light shot up. I saw..." Her voice caught. "I saw Zariel there. She was fighting them all. She was
covered in blood but shining with golden light. And we were running away. I don't know why we
would run away from her. I don't know why I didn't help her. The woman on my back said we had
to fly fast, and I knew she was right, but I was sad I had to leave Zariel."

She turned to the group, tears on her face. "I thought she was going to die. I knew she was going to
die. But you say she's alive. We have to find her! We have to help her! I don't believe she's done
those things you say. I mean I don't think you're lying, but she wouldn't do those things. We have to
go find her."

The group exchanged glances in a heavy silence. Pariah said, "I don't know about the rest of you,
but I'm too tired to think right now. I think we should get some sleep before deciding what to do
next."

"You go ahead," said Lulu. "I don't have to sleep so I can make sure nothing comes through the
door."

"I'll keep you company," Lythienne said. "I don't truly sleep either, just take short meditative
trances. Perhaps watching in pairs would be best." Pariah was glad Lythienne had suggested that.
She liked Lulu but the hollyphant seemed easily distracted. She might not be the best guard.
"I can relieve you," Rowan said. "Maybe Farima after that? I think we should let Pariah rest from
her wounds."

The others agreed and Pariah was too tired to argue, so she laid out her bedroll and was asleep in an
instant.

Pariah jerked awake with a start, her hand reaching for her sword. She hesitated when she saw
Rowan looking down at her, gently shaking her shoulder. Pariah grunted a greeting at her and
looked around the room. Lythienne was waking Farima. Rowan said, "Ravengard wants us to come
to the council room later today," said Rowan. "They are serving a meal so we figured we'd head
over, get something to eat and then talk to Ravengard."

Pariah nodded and sat up. Her muscles ached and her mind was foggy. She stood and stretched
with a groan. "What time is it?"

Rowan shrugged. "With no sun, I'm not sure. But they are calling the meal 'breakfast' so I guess it's
morning."

"You let me sleep?" asked Farima.

"I took a second watch shift," said Rowan. "It gave me a chance to pray over your injuries some
more. And, to be honest, I didn't really want to go back to sleep."

Farima nodded grim agreement. Memories slowly surfaced in Pariah's mind. "Bad dreams?" she
guessed.

"Yes," said Rowan. "You too?"

Pariah rubbed her face and yawned. "I guess so. I don't really remember anything other than being
afraid."

She took a moment to stretch the aches out of her muscles and jog in place for a few steps to get
her blood moving. She felt a lot better than she had the night before. The sleep, as unrestful as it
had been, combined with Rowan's prayers had obviously done her a lot of good. "All right, let's
go."

"Uh," said Rowan hesitantly. "You might want to put on your face first."

"Oh, right," Pariah said. She concentrated and resumed her human disguise and then they moved to
the door.

As they stepped outside, Pariah realized she had unconsciously been expecting a cool dawn.
Instead she got a blast of hot air in her face and the same ominous red sky above. It was like no
time had passed at all. She was surprised to see several soldiers in the courtyard. The two huge
gates were leaning against the wall. They looked intact but the hinges themselves were damaged
and she wondered if they'd be able to repair them. In the meantime, the soldiers had created a
double row of palisades in the opening, and two guards stood sentry behind them. She saw another
soldier in the balcony of the cathedral. Ravengard had been busy.

As they walked to the cathedral, Pariah felt like the heat was even more oppressive than before,
made that much worse by her preference of covering up the writing on her body. As she thought of
clothing, she realized Farima and Lythienne were dressed differently than usual. They both
normally wore functional shirts and pants, though Lythienne's clothing tended to be more stylish
and expensive than Farima's utilitarian outfits. Today, though, Farima was in a loose-fitting, pale
gray linen robe. Lythienne was showing more skin than usual. She wasn't dressed inappropriately,
but she wore a sleeveless top that showed her surprisingly muscled arms, and short pants that ended
at her knees. Even Rowan was missing a few pieces of her usual armor.

The heat and cold had never bothered Pariah as much as it did other people, and she wondered if
that was a side effect of her unusual heritage. Still, there was a difference between tolerating the
heat and being comfortable. There wasn't much she could do at the moment but she pulled off one
of her gloves, exposing the infernal writing on her hand. She willed her disguise spell to cover the
writing with the illusion of normal skin.

Nothing happened.

She concentrated harder. She could change the shade or character of the skin underneath, but the
writing remained untouched. The only time it changed was when she darkened the skin tone on her
hand; the writing became lighter so it was still readable in contrast. "Asshole," she growled, hoping
Levistus was listening.

"Are you all right?" Rowan asked.

Pariah looked up to see the others had turned to look at her. She realized she had been
concentrating so intently that she had stopped walking and the group had walked a few steps
farther before realizing she had fallen behind. She didn't feel like talking about it so just said, "I'm
fine," as she slipped her glove back on and caught up with the group.

The inside of the cathedral itself looked different than before. The bodies had all been cleared and
refugees were camped everywhere she could see. The mumble of voices and the smell of people
was reminiscent of the Baldur's Gate slums and it gave her an odd nostalgia. At the moment, most
people were lined up near the central altar where a chubby and somber man was placing something
small into the hand of each person. She recognized the man as one of the ones they had rescued the
day before. He had been lying among the corpses not far from where he was standing at the
moment, playing dead and hoping the devils would ignore him.

Seeing him reminded Pariah of something. "You guys go ahead," she said. "I want to ask Rowan
something real quick."

Farima and Lythienne looked a bit confused, but went to join the line of people. Lulu flitted off to
entertain some children. When they were alone, Pariah said softly to Rowan, "So I know you are
going through some stuff right now with Tymora. And I don't know if you want to talk about it.
But if you do, and I'd understand if you don't, you might want to talk with him." She nodded
towards the chubby man.

"Oh?" Rowan asked looking over at him. "Why?'

"We rescued him yesterday and he chattered a bit. He's some kind of priest, but not of a god, I
guess. I didn't really understand. Like a priest of the forest or something like that. But he's feeling
pretty shaken right now, like he's losing his connection to nature. I mean it kind of sounded like
what you are going through. So maybe you two could, I don't know, talk about it or something. Or
not, if you aren't up to it."

Rowan studied the man thoughtfully. With some hesitation she said, "I suppose I could talk with
him. Maybe give him some insight. I'll see if I can pull him aside at some point."

They joined the others and the line moved quickly. When the man saw Pariah and Farima, he gave
them a bright smile of recognition for a moment. "Oh, hello," he said. He held something out and
said, "Here you are."

Into Pariah's outstretched hand he placed half of a shriveled berry that had a sick, purplish hue. She
stared for a moment at the thing, looking small in her palm, and then looked back at him in
confusion. "What is this?" she asked.

"It's a magical goodberry. It will sustain you for most of the day," he assured her. "Our next meal
will be more traditional food, but we start the day with these." He pursed his lips. "Normally they
are quite plump and tasty but, as has happened with all the food, they are really quite vile now. I
recommend you swallow it without chewing."

Pariah eyed the half berry suspiciously but then popped it into her mouth and swallowed. She
caught a hint of putrid taste on her tongue before it went down. Within moments, her hunger faded
and she felt a burst of relaxing energy. "Oh," she said in surprise. "That's actually quite nice."

He nodded at her with a smile. The others followed her example and then they moved out of line.

"Well, I'm stuffed," said Lythienne impishly, patting her belly. "Shall we go see Duke Ravengard,
then?"

They called Lulu over and made their way down into the crypts to the room where they had met
with the council the previous day. The catacombs were quiet now that everyone had moved
upstairs. The remnants of the barricade were still in the corridor outside the council chamber, but
there were no guards standing sentry.

The council was already present. Ryland was there as well, sitting with Kavra and Captain Kaas.
He brightened when he saw them and gave them a little wave. There were others present: a handful
of refugees who had grievances to be heard. Ravengard looked bored as an older man complained
that the stone floors were cold and uncomfortable to sleep on. Ambassador Ryken assured him that
every effort was being made to secure more bedding.

As the next man started to speak, Ravengard cut him off. "That's enough for now. We'll resume
hearing citizen concerns later today. You," he waved to indicate Pariah and her companions, "stay.
The rest of you, out."

There was a mumble of protest from the Elturians, but they filed out as ordered. After they had left,
Ravengard blew out a frustrated sigh and then looked over the group. "Have you decided on your
plans? Because I'm stretched thin and I have about a thousand jobs that need doing." Grudgingly
he added, "From what I hear, it sounds like you were quite effective in helping to clearing out the
cathedral. The devils targeted our most capable warriors and wizards in the early days. Right now,
a few experienced and capable people could accomplish a lot."

"I assume no gnomes showed up while we were sleeping," Lythienne said. He shook his head.

"We haven't talked about our plans yet," said Rowan. "What did you have in mind?"

He folded his arms. "We could use your help securing more of the surrounding buildings. Until
now, the devil attacks have been occasional disorganized raids. Patrols have had some encounters
with demons as well, but nothing here at the High Hall. This latest attack concerns me, though. It
was much better organized and it tells me we need to capture key strategic points. That won't help
against the flyers, but at we can be better prepared to hold off the ones on foot."

"I would like to assist the people here," Rowan said to the others. "Whether we choose to go
deeper into Avernus or not, I'd feel better if we'd left them in an improved position."
"Although I agree," said Pariah, "without a plan to save the city we are just putting off the
inevitable."

"Is there a relic of Torm in this city?" Farima asked Ravengard abruptly.

Ravengard's eye's narrowed. "Why?" he asked with a suspicion that surprised Pariah.

"Like Pariah," she said, "I also get advice from an outside source, one that I trust. Among my
nightmares last night, I received a visitation. It was a simple message that salvation lies with a relic
of Torm."

Ravengard turned a glare on Jynks. The acolyte said to him nervously, "I didn't say anything."

Confused, Farima asked, "Forgive me, have I said something wrong?"

Ravengard continued to scowl at Jynks for a moment before looking back at the group. "Acolyte
Jynks has been suggesting something similar ever since we arrived. A squad I sent to recover the
relic has not returned. I have dismissed the idea of further efforts until we can gain a secure base of
operations."

"Then perhaps it is something that we would be able to handle for you," Farima said. "Please, tell
me about the relic."

Ravengard looked undecided, and then he sighed to Jynks, "Go ahead."

"Well, actually there are two," she said to Farima. "One is in a shrine in one of the towers here.
Perhaps you noticed when you came in that the top of the north tower has been smashed, but the
pieces are still floating in the air. That is a shrine to Torm where we kept the War Gauntlet, which
is believed to have been worn by Torm's avatar during the Time of Troubles. I believe it is the
power of that relic that keeps the shrine safe and could do the same for us." She glanced sidelong
at Ravengard as she said this.

"The other, the one that Captain Ravengard's people tried to recover, is the Helm of Torm's Sight,
which is kept in the Vault of Ascendance in the Grand Cemetery on the west side of the city.
However not only would it be difficult to reach the cemetery itself, but scouts have reported that
the grounds have become overrun with undead. Although I will admit the provenance of the
gauntlet is in doubt, the helm is definitely one of his relics. Wearing it allows the truly devout to
touch the mind of our god and give a glimpse into his wisdom. I believe it will allow us to receive
guidance from him on how to save the city."

Farima nodded thoughtfully. "I am inclined to agree with you. The gods have been frustratingly
silent on this matter, so it would be beneficial to have some kind of direct contact."

Pariah shot a glance at Rowan. She hadn't told the others about Rowan's outburst that one night,
and she doubted the woman had told them herself. Rowan just grimaced back at her and said
nothing.

"We need to secure our position first," Ravengard insisted. "Without a solid base of operations, the
next attack could wipe us out. I've already wasted soldiers trying to recover the helm."

"However," Farima insisted, "Pariah is correct: without a plan for getting the city out of Avernus,
short term gains will be meaningless. I agree that keeping the people safe is important, but so is a
long term exit strategy."

Ravengard chewed on that and then said reluctantly, "Yes, that is true."
 "And," Farima added pointedly to the others, "this seems like a preferable strategy to descending to
the surface."

Rowan and Lythienne nodded, both looking at Pariah. "Hey, I agree," she assured them. "I'm not
looking to charge into Hell just because some mysterious voice tells me to. Fine, let's go get some
relics."

"Because a different mysterious voice tells us to," Lythienne observed mischievously.

"But we have to go to Avernus," Lulu piped up brightly. "We have to go find Zariel."

Pariah said diplomatically, "We'll look into that later. First, we need to do our best to save these
people. And those relics may be helpful."

"Which one?" Lythienne asked.

"The gauntlet is closer," mused Farima. "My source didn't specify which artifact. May I ask why
the gauntlet has not been retrieved? Have devils taken over the shrine?"

Ravengard shook his head. "No, it's just not easy to get to. As she said, it's floating in the air out
over the edge of the bluff. It's a long fall if someone slips."

"Well, apparently one of us can fly now," Pariah observed. To the others she said, "Interesting
coincidence, isn't it?"

Lythienne looked amused; Farima looked annoyed as she realized she might be playing into
Levistus's hands. Reluctantly, Farima said, "I suppose the gauntlet would be simpler to reach." She
hesitated and said, "However, I feel that I am the one who should retrieve it rather than you. I am
not sure I trust..." She considered her words before continuing. "I feel that Torm might object to
someone less devout touching a holy relic."

Pariah was angry at her comment but this wasn't the time to have it out. She settled for a petulant
shrug.

"What about Lulu?" suggested Lythienne. "She could fly up and get it."

Lulu's face brightened at the suggestion. Jynks cocked her head in thought. "It is in a locked
reliquary." She fished a key on a chain from around her neck. She asked Lulu, "Would you be able
to use this?"

Lulu tried to take the key with her trunk but it fell to the table with a clatter. Her trunk was too
thick to handle the small key. Both Lulu and Jynks looked disappointed. Jynks said, "That's too
bad. In that case, I had been thinking that someone could use a rope, try to lasso something inside
the shrine and then climb up it. But perhaps if you," she nodded at Pariah, "could fly the rope up
and secure it for the others, that would make it easy."

"Easy," Lythienne sighed. "Why do I feel that 'easy' is not a word that should be used in this place."

Chapter End Notes

Technically it's a "long rest" under 5e rules, but that doesn't sound right as a chapter
title :)

Pariah's shoulder wound is a reflection of a Level 1 Lingering Injury. Her other two
injuries and Lythienne's face wound were all Level 0 so were basically cosmetic. They
disappeared after the long rest and spending a hit die. However, Pariah's shoulder
means she's at -1 to attacks and some skill checks for the next week.

Speaking of healing, I'm not happy with the "sleep and you get full hit points" RAW.
However, any alternate rules hinge on being able to slow down the rate of encounters,
which you can't do easily when running a module. So Rowan's "I could pray over you
more while you slept" is a bit of hand waving to explain why they can heal so quickly.
I still don't love it, but it will have to do.

As part of my sanity rules combined with the Darker Dungeons survival rules, each
night they have to make two sanity rolls. The first is to get a good night's sleep;
anyone who fails the roll gains a level of Darker Dungeons fatigue. Once fatigue hits
5+, the character gets a level of exhaustion per 5e. Yes, "fatigue" vs. "exhaustion" is
confusing, but there you go.

The second roll is an "I'm in Hell" save to lose even more sanity points each day. This
is not a place you want to stay in for long.

I don't know if you are technically allowed to cut a goodberry in half, but it seems like
a reasonable option. Of course it means it provides only half the food, but he's trying to
support over 100 people with 70 goodberries per day.

The War Gauntlet is my own creation. Well, it's a reskinned Wand of the War Mage
+1, but its appearance and history are my own creation. The floating shrine is from the
remix, though it was more of a "wouldn't this be interesting" aside there.
 A Holy Shrine
Chapter Summary

After Farima received a dream vision guiding her to find a relic of Torm in the city,
the group has decided to try to recover the War Gauntlet, rumored to have been worn
by Torm's avatar during the Time of Troubles. The shrine that contains the relic is
currently floating in the air so it may be a little challenging to reach.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The group stood on the roof of the cathedral silently looking out over the rubble that floated before
them. They could see that the shrine itself was mostly intact. It had previously been the top of the
north tower behind them, but had been sheared off and floated about fifty feet away, out over the
edge of the bluff and a very long drop. The wall facing them had been shattered and they could see
inside the room. Through the hole they could see the altar and, behind it, the ornate reliquary
where the gauntlet was kept.

Pieces of the building floated around the shrine, unmoving, as though time had frozen at the
moment the meteor smashed its way through and tore the tower away. The rubble trailed the path
the shrine had taken, but the individual pieces of masonry were twisted every which way and
would provide clumsy footing. Pariah could see that it would be possible for someone to reach the
shrine by leaping from one piece of rubble to another, but one misstep would mean a fall of over a
hundred feet to the base of the bluff. There she saw a street flanked by buildings, and beyond that
was the edge of the city and an even longer drop into Avernus itself.

What drew her eye was the massive spike of black metal driven into the ground through the rubble
of one of the buildings. It was hard to tell at this distance, but judging by the size of the buildings
near it, she estimated the spike was at least twenty feet across and fifty feet tall. An equally
massive chain was attached to it, pulled taut as it strained to pull the city down. It disappeared
down past the edge of the city and she couldn't see where it led.

Pariah looked back up at the floating shrine. "Look," she said to Farima, "why don't I just go get it?
I mean I know you don't want me touching it-"

"No," Farima said abruptly. "I mean, no, it is not that." She fidgeted uncomfortably. "I want to
apologize for my words in the council chamber. I had to speak carefully so they did not know of
your...companion. I did not mean to offend you."

Pariah couldn't help herself. "Why would I be offended just because you don't think I'm worthy of
touching your holy shit?" she said petulantly.

"That is not how I meant it," Farima said. Pariah forced herself to admit that the woman's tone
sounded contrite, and she tried to quell her anger. Farima continued, "I was not commenting on you
yourself. I was concerned that Torm may not want someone affiliated with one of the archdevils,
regardless of your circumstances, touching one of his relics. You literally bear the mark of the
devils on your skin. I do not mean he would reject you as a person, but he might reject the being
you have a contract with. For your safety, you might want to avoid holy relics."
"Oh," Pariah said reluctantly. "Well, I guess when you put it that way, maybe you have a point."
She sighed. "All right, give me the rope and I'll fly it up."

"Hold on," Lythienne said, looking around. They weren't visible from the courtyard here. "I know
you'll be in disguise, but maybe we should hide your wings from the general population for the
moment. Give me the rope." Before anyone could react, Lythienne took the rope from Rowan,
handed one end back to her and jumped off the edge of the building.

The group reflexively flinched as she did so. Pariah could feel herself tensing as the elf dexterously
leapt up the line of masonry chunks, never hesitating even when she was out over the drop. Within
moments she was inside the shrine, a line of rope stretching out behind her to Rowan, who was still
standing there in shock.

"Give me a moment to tie it off," came Lythienne's voice over the earring. "Then you can use it to
assist you during the climb. Tie off the other end but leave plenty of slack."

Lulu flew out to join her while the others shook themselves out of their shock to look for a secure
place to tie the rope. A lot of the construction was crumbling from the damage that had been done,
but the circular stairway leading down was still firmly anchored. They tied the rope to the steel
railing, testing it to be sure it was firm.

"Yes, I suppose that will assist the climb," Farima said, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

"Let me go first," Pariah offered. "Make sure it's safe. If I fall, I can fly before I hit the ground."
She hoped.

"That might be best," Farima said with some relief.

"I'll stay here," Rowan volunteered. "But first..." She reached out and touched Pariah's shoulder.
"Lady Tymora, please watch over Pariah as she travels this path." Pariah didn't feel any different
but it never hurts to have a god's blessing.

Pariah pulled the rope taut and stepped out onto the first chunk. Somehow, having the rope in her
hand to orient herself among the chaotic debris made her feel less anxious. She picked her way
carefully from piece to piece. Most of the chunks were fairly close together, though some of them
were barely bigger than her foot or oriented in such a way as to make footing treacherous. She had
been afraid that they would shift under her weight, but they held their position as firmly as if they
had been mortared in.

Lulu came out to fly beside her. "You're doing great!" she cheered. "Just keep going. One foot at a
time." Honestly, it was annoying and distracting, but Pariah couldn't bring herself to tell the
hollyphant to be quiet.

She came to the first tricky spot, a large chunk of wall that floated about the height of her hips. It
wouldn't have been hard to mantle up onto it, but that would mean releasing the rope. Instead she
planted her foot against it and used the rope to pull herself up. She looked down to check her
footing and felt her head swim as she saw the ground so far below. She wondered how long it
would take to fall, and if she would have time to deploy her wings before hitting the ground.

She forced her gaze back up towards the shrine. She debated about extending her wings now, just
in case, but the knowledge that had been put in her brain along with her wings told her that she
could maintain them for only a short time. The climb was taking longer than she had thought, and
it would be bad for her wings to fade away just as she needed them.
"Everything all right?" said Rowan over the earring, concern in her voice.

Pariah realized she'd been standing on this one chunk for a while. She reached up to pinch the gem.
"Fine. Just taking a breather." Afraid she'd freeze if she dawdled any longer, Pariah forced herself
to proceed.

She continued to focus on one step at a time and progressed up the perilous climb. Occasionally
she had to pull herself up with the rope like she had before; she didn't know how Lythienne had
made it look so easy.

The next difficulty came when her next step was at a distance longer than her stride. She eyed the
gap, so narrow and yet perilously wide. She knew what she had to do. It would be an easy jump. A
child could do it, and yet her heart pounding told her otherwise. She gripped the rope tightly, said,
"Tymora, I hope you are still keeping an eye on me," and leapt across the gap. Her boots thudded
down and a few pieces of loose brick crumbled from the side, falling into the depths below. She
froze to see if anything else would happen, but the piece of debris was firm. She inhaled deeply,
exhaled, and then took the next step.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the shrine. Lythienne smiled brightly at her and
said, "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Pariah was going to reply when she was struck by how calm the room felt. She had no trouble
believing that some kind of divine presence permeated the shrine. There was a serene sense of
safety, something she hadn't felt since they had arrived here. It was a comforting reprieve from the
horrors of the last...day? Really? It had been only a day?

Part of her wanted to just sit down and drink up the energy, but they had work to do. She reached
up to the earring. "I'm here. Farima, are you sure you want to come up? Lythienne could grab the
gauntlet. Or we could unlock the box and let Lulu take it."

"No," came Farima's voice, "I would prefer getting it myself." She paused. "Let us consider this a
test of faith."

Pariah could hear the anxiety. "Just take your time," she said. "The steps are firm. It's like walking
on solid ground. Keep hold of the rope and take it slow."

She could see Rowan reach out and say the same prayer over Farima that she had said over Pariah,
and then the Calishite started her journey. Rather than holding the rope in one hand as Pariah had,
Farima placed the rope in her armpit and then wrapped it around her arm. She picked her way
methodically up the floating debris. Lulu flew out and buzzed about her, giving her the same
encouragement she had given Pariah. Pariah watched her nervously but there was nothing she
could do to help.

Pariah had lost all sense of time so wasn't sure if Farima had moved more or less quickly than she
had, but she arrived eventually. Farima also released a long breath when she entered the shrine.
"Well, then," she said with brittle cheerfulness. "That was bracing."

She stepped towards the altar, fishing the reliquary key that Jynks had given her out of a pouch on
her belt. She knelt down before the altar and prayed silently. Pariah took the opportunity to scan
the skies for possible ambushes, realizing she should have been doing that all along. She could see
flying creatures over the city in the distance, but nothing nearby. However, there were many blind
spots outside of this room. She'd have to hope that Rowan would call out any warnings, though
being attacked here could be grim indeed. She'd be glad when they were back inside the cathedral.
Farima climbed to her feet and approached the reliquary. She unlocked and opened it, revealing a
lightly armored gauntlet laying inside. Reverently she reached out to take it up, mumbling another
prayer as she did. She carefully placed it in her belt and turned to the others. "Shall I go back first?"
she asked.

Neither had any objection so Farima grabbed the rope and started down the path. She must have
been feeling more confident because she held it loosely rather than wrapping it like she had before.
As Farima passed out of the shrine, the warm sensation that Pariah had felt faded away. She
frowned as she felt the change.

And then the floor dropped out from under her.

Pariah hadn't even registered that she was falling before her wings instinctively snapped out,
catching the air and slowing her fall. Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact that the room itself
was plummeting out of the sky, so the ceiling came down and smashed across the back of her head.
Disoriented, she blindly pushed through the broken wall they had entered.

She looked for the others and saw Lythienne sprint for the opening and leap out in an arc towards
the distant bluff. Farima, on the other hand, was just falling, her grip on the rope having been lost
in her panic. Pariah dove for her, clumsily grabbed her under the arms and pulled up with all of her
strength. Her wings strained under the extra weight but she was able to slow, stop, and then
laboriously gain altitude. As she struggled upwards she looked around for Lythienne. She saw the
elven woman clinging to the cliff face. As Pariah watched, Lythienne slid down a few feet but then
caught herself.

Pariah was on the edge of panicking but she knew she couldn't hold two people. It was all she
could do to hold Farima's weight as she struggled towards the cliff's edge above her. She had to
hope that Lythienne could hold out until she could come back. She heard voices in the earring but
couldn't understand them, and couldn't spare a hand to squeeze the stone and respond. Besides, all
of her concentration was focused on her beating her wings as hard as she could. She was trying not
to think about it too hard because, if she did, she might realize that she didn't actually know how to
fly.

She cleared the edge of the bluff and crashed to the ground, exhausted, landing on top of Farima.
She was panting for breath and barely able to move.

"In hindsight," came Farima's voice, muffled against the ground, "perhaps we should have tied
ourselves to the rope."

Pariah rolled off the other woman. "In hindsight," she replied breathlessly, "I should have tested
my wings before I was falling to my death." She struggled to her feet to see Rowan running over,
tears in her eyes. The cleric embraced them both.

Pariah pulled herself away. "I have to get Lythienne," she said, even as she doubted she had the
strength to carry her up.

"It's OK," Rowan said. "Didn't you hear her? She's climbing up. She says she's fine."

Pariah shook her head. "I couldn't hear anything with the wind in my ears," she said. "Are you
sure?"

Rowan looked less certain. "Well, she said she needed both hands for climbing so couldn't talk
anymore. Lulu's with her."
"I'll check," Pariah said. If she was being completely honest, she really wanted to stay here with
the ground beneath her, but she had to be sure that Lythienne was safe first. She spread her wings
and lifted herself off the ground. She realized in the moment that the wings weren't actually
carrying her. They were guiding her, but she could feel herself floating, presumably under some
kind of magical influence. Whatever this was, it didn't seem to be true flight, like a bird.

She pushed the irrelevant thoughts out of her mind. Screwing up her courage, she sailed out over
the edge of the bluff and saw Lythienne climbing up the side, Lulu nearby. Now that she was
looking more closely, she realized it wasn't so much a sheer cliff as a very steep slope. Not wanting
to surprise the woman, she said into the earring, "I'm coming by to check on you. Don't be startled
and fall." She didn't get a response, but she could see Lythienne was otherwise occupied.

Pariah flew down and hovered by the elven woman. "So," she said conversationally, trying to
inject some humor into the situation, "how's it going?"

Lythienne looked over at her, not looking amused at all. "Farima?" she asked hesitantly.

"She's okay," Pariah assured her. "I was able to carry her up."

"Thank the gods," she said in relief.

Pariah harrumphed. "Maybe if the gods hadn't removed their magic so abruptly, we wouldn't have
fallen." That got a small smile out of Lythienne. Pariah said, "Are you okay to climb? I don't know
if I have the strength left carry you up. I think it was just the shock of the moment that let me carry
Farima."

Lythienne looked up at the bluff above her. "Yes. The slope is not that steep and I see plenty of
handholds. I'll join you shortly."

"Maybe we could both carry you," Lulu suggested.

Lythienne said, "Thank you, Lulu, but I think I'll climb. Even with both of you carrying me, I worry
about the risk to all three of us."

"I'll stay with you, then," Pariah said. "In case. If something happens, I could at least slow your
fall." She winced. "Okay, maybe I shouldn't have said that out loud. Bad luck." She looked up.
"Please leave us alone, Beshaba."

Lythienne smiled. "I would appreciate the company."

Into the earring, Pariah said, "She's fine. I'm going to stay with her as she climbs."

The elven woman moved quickly and skillfully up the bluff face, and it wasn't long before they
reached the top and joined the others. Pariah landed, dropped to her knees in exhaustion, and
withdrew her wings into her back. She looked over at Farima. "Please tell me you didn't drop the
magical whatsit during all that."

Farima held up the gauntlet for her to see, her fingers white she was gripping it so hard. Pariah
nodded in acknowledgement and then flopped over onto her back, arms and legs spread to feel the
ground beneath her. "I think I hate flying," she said to the universe in general.

Farima knelt next to her and reached out to grip her shoulder. "I do not hate your flying," she said
emphatically. "You saved my life. Thank you."

A sarcastic but friendly retort danced in Pariah's mouth, but she knew it might be taken wrong.
 Instead she said, "No problem." She sighed, "I suspect saving each other's lives is going to be a
thing until we get out of here." Lythienne patted her arm and then left her hand there. Rowan, still
teary, sat down next to Farima, put an arm around her and put a hand on Pariah's knee. Lulu landed
on Pariah's legs and sat down.

"You three nearly left me here alone," Rowan said, a sob in her voice. "Selfish bastards."

Pariah laughed. "Sorry. We'll do better."

"I still would have been here," said Lulu.

Rowan managed a smile. "That's true." She reached out to scratch the hollyphant's head.

Pariah lay there staring at the featureless red sky above her. From this angle she couldn't see the
dark orb of the Companion, though she could hear the crackle of its lightning against the roar of
the battle that still raged below them. She felt the scorching air in her lungs, though it didn't choke
her as badly as it had when they had first arrived.

As the other women basked in the moment, celebrating the fact that they were still alive, questions
nagged at her. He gave her wings, and less than a day later those wings saved her life. Was that a
coincidence, or had he known what was going to happen? How much of what happened to them
was part of his scheme? And what was his plan for her? For all of them?

Somehow, she suspected she wasn't going to be happy with the answer to that.

Chapter End Notes

I mean, you just knew it was going to fall. That's the tricky part about building
suspense; it's not suspense if you know it's going to happen.

As I said last chapter, the floating shrine was mentioned in the remix. He noticed the
floating room in one of the images in the module and came up with the idea that it
could be a shrine of Torm. He also suggested there might be a holy artifact there, and
that removing it might make the shrine fall.

The good news is I'm writing more lately. In the last 3 weeks I've written 3 1/2
chapters; I'm working on Chapter 42 right now. I still want to get further ahead before
going back to a weekly posting schedule, but I'm hoping I can do that by the fall.
 A Surprise Visitor
Chapter Summary

After recovering the War Gauntlet, the group returns to the cathedral to bring it to
Acolyte Jynks and decide on their next move.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

By the time they had descended from the tower into the main crypt where Acolyte Jynks was
tending to the wounded, Pariah's heart had stopped racing. She still felt a little shaky from the fall
but slowly the adrenaline was draining from her system. She also had restored her disguise spell.
The others had pointed out that apparently it had faded away, presumably when she had summoned
her wings.

They found the acolyte kneeling by one of the wounded, her left arm clutching the book she always
carried. Her other hand rested on the man's chest while she recited a prayer over him. She looked
up as the group approached, and her face lit up as she saw the gauntlet in Farima's hand.

"You got it!" she said, reaching out for it. "Did you have any trouble?"

The group was silent as Farima handed the gauntlet over. After a moment she said, "No trouble
worth mentioning."

Jynks furrowed her brow at the cryptic answer but didn't ask anything else. She said, "Well, I'm
pleased you retrieved it. I hope it's holy power will help supplement my own meager attempts to
minister to the people here. We are doing the best we can, but all of our resources are stretched
thin."

"What is that book you carry?" Pariah asked abruptly.

The woman looked down at the massive volume, surprised at the question. "It's the Tome of the
Creed Resolute," she said. "It contains the oath that all citizens of Elturel have taken, and the list of
names of those who have sworn the oath."

Pariah pursed her lips. "And you still carry it even though..." She trailed off, realizing that others
could hear them.

Jynks looked puzzled at first but then understanding showed on her face. She looked down at the
book and then back at Pariah. "I find it comforting, regardless of..." She searched for words. "...the
details of our current situation," she finished carefully.

Pariah was curious to look at it but, before she could ask, she was startled by a bloodcurdling
scream from the catacombs.

Her rapier was in her hand in an instant as she turned to face the two tunnels that led out of the
crypt into the catacombs. She heard nothing else. She looked around the room and the only
ambulatory people there were Jynks and the nature priest whose name she couldn't remember. She
pointed to the latter and said, "Get some soldiers down here now."
As he headed towards the stairs leading up to the main cathedral, Pariah heard rapid footsteps
echoing down the tunnels. It was at least two people running, though the echoes meant she couldn't
tell which tunnel they were coming down. "Lythienne, watch the other tunnel," she said as she
headed for the nearest opening. She wasn't planning to hold it on her own against an army of
devils, but at least she might be able to see what was coming.

Around the corner came two men running full out, their faces white with fear. When the lead one
saw her, he screamed, "Undead!"

"Over here," she called to the others and placed herself at the mouth of the hall as the two men ran
past her. She stared into the darkness as a figure came around the same corner the men had fled
past.

The thing shuffled towards her at a speed not faster than a brisk walk, but with a determination that
made it clear it wasn't going to stop for anything as trivial as a tiefling with a sword. Its rotting
flesh and clothing reminded her of the zombies that rose in Cliffside Cemetery now and then, but it
didn't have the blank-eyed stare she would have expected. Its eyes showed a spark of intelligence
as they flicked over her.

Pariah called the cold into her blade as Lythienne came to stand next to her and the others moved
up behind her. Farima said in surprise, "Is that a priest?"

Her words made Pariah realize that the rotting clothing the thing wore bore a resemblance to holy
vestments, a white gauntlet emblazoned on its chest. "Not any more," she said.

"It killed Jehan," said a voice from behind her, quivering in fear.

Pariah flung out her left arm and sent a beam of icy energy towards it as it shambled forward. The
beam struck, leaving a layer of frost on its clothing and slowing it down even more. The creature
looked at her with sharp eyes and growled. "Get. Out."

"It can speak," Farima said in wonder.

Pariah didn't care that it could speak. Her attention was focused on the thing as it advanced. She
heard movement behind her but ignored it as she drew the cold into her arm to send another beam
at it. Suddenly Jynks cried out in surprise, "Let me go!"

Farima came into Pariah's view, dragging the acolyte forward. "Stop attacking!" Farima said to
Pariah. "You there," she called out to the undead thing. "Look, here is a servant of Torm. She bears
Torm's War Gauntlet." To Jynks she hissed, "Show him!"

Jynks looked at Farima like she was insane, but then looked back at the creature and held the
gauntlet out before her in a shaking hand. The undead slowed and stopped, staring at the acolyte
intently.

"Can you understand me?" Farima asked it.

It slowly turned its gaze on her. After a moment it nodded.

"And you. Are you a priest of Torm?"

Again, a long pause and then a single, slow nod.

Farima said quickly, "The city is in danger. These people are here seeking the protection of Torm.
Why do you attack them?"
The creature was silent as it considered her words. Pariah heard footsteps pounding down the
stairs, and Ravengard burst into the room, sword in hand and with four soldiers close behind him.
Pariah quickly put up a hand to stop them, and then jerked her head towards the conversation.

The thing lifted an arm and pointed towards one of the men who had fled from the catacombs.
"Thief," it grated.

Farima's face clouded. Keeping her eye on the creature, she said over her shoulder angrily, "Is that
true?"

"What?" one of the men said in a panic. "No. We were just, uh, exploring a bit." He wasn't a good
liar.

Pariah could see Farima was unsure what the next step should be. Ravengard was not so hesitant.
"Hold them," he ordered his soldiers. "Search them."

The soldiers moved to follow his orders. The two men objected loudly but the soldiers ignored
their words and rooted through their pockets roughly. One of the soldiers brought what they found
over to Ravengard. Pariah couldn't see all of it, but she saw several pieces of jewelry and a couple
of gold teeth.

"What is wrong with you?" Farima chastised them. "What good will a few bits of gold do you
here?"

The two men were silent. Ravengard stepped forward to address the undead creature, his sword
still in his hand. "Who are you?" he demanded.

It turned its intense gaze on him. "Guardian," it said.

"Do you know anything about this?" he asked Jynks.

The acolyte looked puzzled. "I have heard stories that a spirit of one of the high priests guards the
tombs, though nobody has ever seen it. To be honest, the lack of help during the devil attacks made
me think the story was just that: a story."

Rowan said, "I wouldn't think priests of Torm would raise an undead creature to guard the tombs."

Jynks shook her head. "He wasn't supposed to be undead, just a protective spirit."

Farima mused, "Possibly the corrupting effects of the Hells brought the priest back in this evil
form." Firmly she added, "But that does not mean he is our enemy."

Directing her attention back to the rotting corpse standing before her, Farima said, "Reverend
Elder, I apologize for the foolish actions of these men. They will be punished for their crimes." She
waved to indicate the rest of the room. "But these others, these poor injured souls, are innocent of
their actions."

The creature carefully scanned the room as though seeing the injured for the first time. It looked
back at Ravengard, then at Jynks, and then at Farima. It pointed to the two men. Ponderously it
said, "Bring. Them. To. Me."

"We will punish these men," Ravengard insisted. "Believe me, their crimes will not be treated
lightly."

The undead glared at him. More intensely, and with a distinct aura of threat, it said, "Bring. Them.
To. Me."

Ravengard matched the creature's glare, clearly not afraid, but after a moment he relented. He
looked over to his soldiers and said, "Bring them."

"No!" one of the men yelled. "You can't do that!"

"We're sorry," the other said in a sob. "We're sorry!"

The soldiers reluctantly dragged the men forward as they continued to cry and beg for mercy. The
undead creature looked down at them. "Thief," it said ominously, and it reached out for them. It
touched their chests and they screamed as their flesh began to age and wither. The soldiers jumped
back in surprise, releasing the men who slumped to the ground. Their bodies continued to rot with
breathtaking speed until they withered to dust, leaving nothing behind but their clothes.

There was a horrified silence as everyone looked at the remains of the looters. The creature turned
to the soldier holding the stolen items and held out its cupped hands. The soldier hesitantly
dropped the loot into its palms, being careful not to touch its undead flesh. The creature looked at
them all and then grated, "Leave."

"Reverend Elder," Farima said quickly, "we ask your indulgence. We would like to continue to use
the main crypt as a hospital. We will stay out of the catacombs if you wish, but we are short on
space. Please allow us to attend to the sick and injured here."

It stared at her. Farima matched its gaze, though with less courage than Ravengard had shown.
Regardless, she stubbornly locked eyes with it. Its gaze slid over to Jynks and then back to Farima.
"Agreed," it said. It pointed to the catacombs. "Do. Not. Enter."

Farima nodded. "Understood. Thank you."

It turned and shambled down the tunnel and into the darkness.

Ravengard turned to his soldiers as he sheathed his sword. "You," he said to one of them. "Stand
guard at the other stairway down. Nobody goes into the catacombs." He turned to another. "You,
stand guard here. You two, start working to barricade both these hallways: one here," he pointed to
the entrance the creature had just retreated through, "and one just past the council chamber." As his
people snapped to their duties, he rubbed his chin in thought. "We will have to find somewhere else
to store the bodies in the future, I suppose." He headed for the stairs.

"The catacombs were getting a bit full anyhow," Jynks said to nobody in particular, still obviously
shaken from the incident. She sighed sadly as she looked down at the piles of clothing. "I suppose I
should go tell their families." She turned to Farima. "Thank you," she said. "For respecting the
priest. I have to admit, it never occurred to me to spare him or speak with him."

Farima made a dismissive gesture. "I suppose it was a bit of a risk. I am pleased to see some
presence of the gods here, no matter what form it takes."

Acolyte Jynks looked down at the gauntlet in her hand. After a moment she held it out to Farima.
"I think you should keep this. You are about to face many dangers, and it might be better for
Torm's blessing to accompany you."

Farima looked stunned. "I do not know. It seems better to keep it with one of his priests."

Jynks shook her head. "Not at all. You show his presence the respect it deserves. Please. Take it.
Wear it. Let Torm's power protect you."
Farima took the gauntlet reluctantly. She slipped her hand into it and held it up in front of her eyes.
"I can feel his essence," she said in wonder. She looked back at Jynks and said, "I truly believe this
is one of his relics. Thank you for your trust."

Jynks nodded acknowledgement and then said, "What are your plans now? Were you going to go
to the surface or try to recover the helm?"

Farima looked surprised. She said, "I do not know. We have not discussed that yet."

"We have to go find Zariel," Lulu insisted. "She can fix all of this."

Lythienne said diplomatically, "Perhaps but we have to help these people, too." To Farima, she
said, "Can you tell if this is the relic you were supposed to recover?"

Farima studied the gauntlet. "I can not. I can feel this object's holiness, but I feel no insight as to
whether this was supposed to be our target." She pursed her lips. "I will admit, I would prefer
directing my energies to recovering another holy artifact over following advice from...questionable
sources."

Pariah said, "I'm a little worried about the horde of undead that's supposed to be at the cemetery."

"As opposed to the hordes of devils and demons in the battlefield below us?" Lythienne asked
lightly.

Pariah nodded. "Yeah, that's a good point." She shrugged. "Cemetery is fine with me."

"I say we go find Zariel, not go fight stinky dead people," Lulu said.

"We don't know where she is," said Lythienne. "Perhaps the helm will assist with that. Torm might
be able to guide us to her."

"Well, I guess that's true," Lulu said reluctantly.

There were no other objections to going to the cemetery. Jynks looked pleased. "In that case, I have
another gift for you." She reached into the satchel at her side where she kept her medicines and
bandages. She withdrew a vial and handed it to Farima. "This elixir can cure any illness. I have not
had reason to use it yet -- those I tend to are injured but not sick. Some undead carry terrible
diseases." She glanced down at the empty clothes on the ground. "This may be able to cure them if
administered quickly."

"Thank you," said Farima as she took the vial.

Rowan asked, "Would you mind if I filled a waterskin with holy water? I imagine there are a
number of bodies that will need to be put to rest out there."

Jynks nodded. "Please do. I suspect anyone that will rise already has, but I would be grateful for
any you can bless."

As Rowan moved towards one of the fonts, Farima asked the acolyte, "Can you provide directions
to the cemetery?"

Pariah was surprised by the question and said, "Ryland will take us there, right?"

"I do not know if he will accompany us. Now that he is back with the other Hellriders, they may
have other plans for him."
"Oh," Pariah said. She was so used to him being part of the group that she had just assumed they
would continue this journey together, but Farima had a point.

"Perhaps we should go ask," suggested Lythienne.

"If not," Jynks said, "the cemetery isn't hard to find. It's set against the southern end of the west
wall. In fact it's directly west of the switchback down from the west side of the bluff. For
reference, when you leave the High Hall, you will be facing north."

"Thank you," said Farima. "We shall find our way."

"And I can fly up and look so we don't get lost," suggested Lulu.

The group made their way upstairs. The mood of the refugees was different than it had been at
breakfast. Many of them carefully watched the stairs and there was a notable air of anxiety.
Obviously the story of what had just happened in the tombs had reached the gossip mill.

The Hellriders and Elturel watch were bivouacked in the northern part of the temple. The group
spotted Captain Kaas and headed over. As they did, Pariah saw Ryland off with some other
soldiers. He looked up and was watching them. She grinned at him and waved him over.

Kaas looked up tiredly as they approached. Lythienne took the lead, saying, "Captain, we were
wondering if Ryland could accompany us to the cemetery to recover the relic. We are all strangers
to this city, and having a local guide would be very helpful. He's been a valuable member of the
team."

Pariah glanced over to see Ryland beaming at the praise. Kaas pursed her lips as she looked back
and forth between Lythienne and Ryland. "We're pretty short handed here," she said slowly. Then
she sighed and said, "But you have a good point. Fine. Mantlemorn, accompany them and report
back here when you've recovered the helm."

"Yes, sir," he said enthusiastically.

"Don't be too happy about it," she warned him. "I suspect you'll wish you'd stayed behind when
you see how bad it is out there. And don't forget you are, first and foremost, a Hellrider and not an
adventurer. Remember the Creed."

"Yes, sir," he said more soberly.

"I'll come too, if you don't mind," said a woman's voice from behind them. They turned to see
Kavra standing there. She was standing straighter than she had before and her color was better. Her
wounds had obviously gotten some medical and magical attention. She said, "I'm going back to the
Shieldhall. I wasn't relishing making that trip alone. I can go most of the way to the cemetery with
you."

"Your company would be welcome," said Lythienne.

"Would you like us to come to the Shieldhall with you?" Farima asked. "We could go to the
cemetery after."

Kavra shook her head. "That won't be necessary. We'll get pretty close and we've managed to clear
the nearby streets. I don't want to delay your mission. I put a lot of faith in a good blade, but this is
a situation that needs some divine intervention. If that helm is all they say it is, I think you need to
recover it as quickly as possible." She frowned. "If I wasn't so beat up, I'd come with you all the
way to the cemetery, but I have to know my limits. Plus this new intelligence needs to get to
 Captain Stask as soon as possible."

She drew herself up and said, "If I might suggest, we should head out immediately. This city is on a
time limit and hours might be the difference between success and failure."

The rest of the group agreed and, after collecting their possessions, the party headed out through
the gate of the High Hall and back out onto the devil-infested streets of Elturel.

Chapter End Notes

The trick of portraying a halting speaking style using one-word sentences is blatantly
stolen from Terry Pratchett.

I needed a transition chapter here to explore some of the things going on with the
characters, but I couldn't think of a good way to take a beat. They are on a clock so
can't dawdle too much. I was skimming the module and thought about the mummy. I
knew it was there, but it's not like the PCs are going to loot the tombs. Even Pariah has
her limits. Of course, then I realized it doesn't have to be the PCs who do the looting.
The story about the guardian spirit and the effects of the Hells on it is stuff I added.

Pariah's disguise spell dropping when using her fly spell is an arbitrary decision on my
part like the wings themselves were. It just seemed like the thing to do.

The original draft of this chapter is the point when I realized that Lulu just wasn't
working as a character. I had to take a month off while I thought about her character
and went back to rewrite large chunks starting with Chapter 25. The chapters you've
read are the revised ones, and she certainly works a LOT better now.

I've made a retroactive change to some of the geography of Avernus. The River Styx,
rather than running in the same direction of the chasm they crossed, now runs
perpendicular to it (Chapter 27). As they stood on top of the cathedral, they saw one of
the chains that hold the city and are slowly drawing it down (Chapter 32). You can go
back and read the third paragraph of the previous chapter if you want a description.
This was done both to fit the map of the remix and to facilitate their trip after they
reach the surface.
 A Murderous Mob
Chapter Summary

Although shaken by their nearly deadly fall and their encounter with the undead
guardian of Torm, the group knows time is of the essence if they are to save Elturel.
They decide to recover the Helm of Torm's Sight rather than following Levistus's
advice to go to the surface. Accompanied by the Hellrider Kavra Sagestalker, they
head back out into the fiend-infested streets of the city.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Ryland had explained that to go west you had to go north. The buildings up here in the High
District were tightly packed together. They would have to head north through the withering park to
find a street that led west to the cliff, and then follow the cliff south to get to the switchback
stairway that led down to the Westerly, as that part of the city was called. From there it was a fairly
direct path to the cemetery.

Pariah and Lythienne took the lead as usual. "You're just scouting," Kavra cautioned them. "Don't
act without my order." She was talking to them both, but pointedly looking at Pariah when she said
that. She had taken Ryland's communication earring. The two Hellriders followed the scouts at a
short distance with Rowan and Farima in back. Lulu followed the group erratically, but often darted
off to investigate anything she found interesting. Pariah was worried that the little hollyphant
would stumble on a nest of fiends in one of the buildings, but there wasn't much she could do to
reign in Lulu's energy and curiosity.

Pariah found her mood falling as they headed through the burnt out remains of the park. A crypt
with an undead guardian and meals of barely edible food might not seem like home, but it was the
closest thing to safety they'd found so far. They had no idea what lurked in the shadowy streets
ahead, but it was almost certainly something horrible.

"I hear something," hissed Lythienne into the earring, and the group stopped. Pariah listened but
heard only the ever-present roar of the battle that still raged below the city. Lythienne concentrated
and then shook her head. "Voices, I think." She pointed in the direction they were going. "A couple
of blocks away. Shouting."

"Be ready," said Kavra, and then she waved the group forward again. They moved more quickly
now, still cautiously surveying the buildings on the edge of the park for possible attack.

As they neared the street the led out of the park, Pariah could hear what Lythienne had mentioned:
multiple voices shouting. They were deep and male. "They're speaking Infernal," she told the
others. "I can't tell what they are saying."

They turned onto the street but saw nothing ahead. As they moved forward, the words became
more distinct. Pariah said, "They have a prisoner. They are about to execute her. We need to
hurry."

"Hold position," Kavra said firmly over the earring. Pariah dithered but decided to wait impatiently
until the rest of the group joined them.

"We have to go now," Pariah insisted.

"Let's not rush into anything," Lythienne chided her. "Remember last time."

"You mean when we saved her?" Pariah asked, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at Kavra.

"She's right," Kavra said, nodding towards Lythienne. "Recklessness gets us all dead. Move up but
don't do anything until I give the order."

They moved closer and Pariah could hear the devils yelling taunts and threats but didn't hear
anyone responding. The voices seemed to be coming from near a larger three-story building that
loomed over the smaller houses around it. The voices were outside the structure, but a house stood
before them and blocked their view of what was happening.

Kavra motioned for the group to split. She, Pariah and Rowan went around one side of the house
while Ryland, Lythienne and Farima went around the other. Lulu followed the latter group. Pariah
was champing at the bit but grudgingly admitted that they needed to at least see what the situation
was before charging in.

They came to the corner of the building and Kavra motioned for the other two women to stop. The
lieutenant peered around the corner for a moment and then pulled back. She whispered, "Five of
those tentacle face ones. One civilian with a chain around her neck. Looks like they are about to
string her up."

"Then we have to help," Pariah insisted, trying to keep her voice low.

"In a moment," Kavra said firmly. She pinched the earring and said, "Five bearded devils with one
prisoner. We are going to take the lead. Once we move, the second group will engage from
behind."

"Understood," came Farima's voice.

They prepared themselves, the lieutenant mouthed a countdown from three, and when she got to
one, they charged around the corner.

Five bearded devils were gathered in a semicircle, their backs to the charging adventurers. In the
middle of the circle was an old human woman with a chain wrapped around her neck. The chain
had been thrown over a spar sticking out of the building behind them. One devil was holding the
chain taut, forcing the woman to stand on her toes as she struggled to breathe.

The devils had only just started to turn towards the noise when the group was upon them. Pariah
engaged the left-most devil, supported by Rowan's spectral coins. The coins were an effective
distraction, allowing the tiefling to land a deep stab in his thigh. It roared at her, slashing with its
glaive and she was unable to avoid the blow. It hit her left arm, not cutting through her armor but
leaving a bruise and the sickening feeling of dark magic permeating her flesh. The icy sheen on her
armor surged up its weapon and briefly engulfed it. Kavra's swords finished it.

As it fell, Farima saw that the devil holding the chain was hauling the woman up. It pulled a metal
spike from its belt and shoved it into one of the links, driving the spike into the brickwork of the
building with its bare hands. The old woman's hand were free and she was pulling on the loop
around her neck, trying to hold herself up and keep from strangling, but she didn't look like she'd
last long. Lulu had flown up and was trying to use her trunk under the woman's armpit to lift her
though she wasn't having much success.
Pariah tried to rush forward to help, but another devil blocked both her and Kavra from advancing.
Pariah dodged its glaive and tentacles but, distracted by the sickening feeling in her arm, was also
unable to land a blow or edge around the fiend. Pariah spared a glance past the devil to see one of
them was engaged with Ryland and one with Lythienne. The elf was fluidly evading blows,
landing the occasional slash with her tanto or blow with a fist or foot, and slowly wearing him
down.

Suddenly, a crackle of electricity shot through the air making Pariah's hair stand up. A bolt of
lighting slashed through the air, across the back of Pariah's opponent, under the kicking feet of the
hanged woman, and directly into the chest of the devil by the chain. Whether it was surprise at the
sudden crack of thunder or merely a coincidence, Lythienne misjudged a dodge and the devil she
faced slashed the edge of his blade across her belly.

Lythienne's face changed abruptly into an expression of absolute ferocity, something akin to what
they'd seen on the battle crazed devils they'd faced. Abandoning all pretense of defense, Lythienne
transformed into a blurry storm of blows, her blade, fist and feet viciously assaulting the fiend
before her.

Pariah was so shocked by Lythienne's transformation that she almost took another blow from the
glaive. Instinctively she parried the heavy blade with the knuckle guard of her weapon and then
riposted, the point of her rapier sinking into the devil's chest. Already injured by the lightning, the
devil went down as Pariah pulled energy from his body. Bolts of energy from Farima felled the
devil who was still standing by the chain, the action having moved so fast he hadn't had a chance to
join the fight.

This was enough for the two remaining devils, who turned and fled. "Oh no you don't!" Lythienne
snarled, baring her teeth. She darted after the devil she had been facing, kicking the back of his legs
and knocking him to his knees. She brought her elbow down at the base of his neck, stunning him.
With her empty hand she grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, then brought the tanto around
to cut his throat. She grinned maniacally as blood spurted out of the gaping wound and the devil
slumped forward. The last devil disappeared into the maze of streets.

"Release the chain," called out Kavra. Pariah, still stunned by Lythienne's behavior, turned to see
the Hellrider was holding the old woman's legs, lifting her so she wasn't choking anymore. Ryland
and Rowan rushed over to where the chain was spiked to the wall and, with effort, were able to use
the chain to pull the spike out. Once the pressure was released, the old woman and Kavra collapsed
to the ground in an awkward pile.

Pariah looked back at Lythienne. All traces of her former anger were gone as she cleaned the
devil's blood from her weapon. She glanced up at Pariah, smiled, and then looked confused at
Pariah's scrutiny. She looked over at Farima, who was also staring at her. "What?" Lythienne
asked.

Before Pariah could respond, she felt a pulse of toxic energy in her arm where the glaive had struck
her. She dropped her rapier, grabbing the wound as she grunted in pain.

"Let me help you," said a voice. The old woman had regained her feet, and she stepped forward to
lay a hand on Pariah's arm. She mumbled something and Pariah felt healing energy wash away the
ache.

"Thank you," said Pariah in relief.

"It's the least I can do," the woman smiled at her. "What blessed fortune that you came along when
you did, thank Tymora."
Pariah realized in that moment that the woman wore a leather cord around her neck, and hanging
from that was a coin of Tymora. As Pariah bent down to pick up her sword and resheathe it, she
asked, "So what brings you out into the streets of Elturel?"

"Since, well, whatever it was happened, I've been trying to bring the grace of Lady Luck to
whomever I can find. Most recently, I was on my way to the High Hall to deliver some news. As I
passed the Old High Harvest Home," she nodded towards the large building she had recently been
dangling from, "I realized there were a number of bodies inside. I was giving them Last Rites when
these devils set upon me. And then, well, you showed up."

"People were hiding out in here?" Kavra asked. The entire group had gathered around the old
woman now. "Why didn't they go to the High Hall?"

The old woman looked thoughtful and said slowly, "I don't think they were hiding. From the age of
the bodies and the way they were laid out, I think this happened back when we first were brought
to this place. Something burst into the building and slaughtered them, leaving them where they
fell."

"And they haven't risen as undead yet?" Rowan asked.

The woman turned, and as she saw Rowan her face lit up. "Why, hello, sister. I didn't realize there
was another one of the Smiling Lady's clergy here." She took Rowan's hands in hers. "What
blessed fortune to meet like this."

"Sure," said Rowan with a slight grimace.

The woman cocked her head and studied Rowan with a slight knitting of her eyebrows. After a
moment she said, "Well, to your point, I'm aware that people think that undead are spontaneously
rising here. I don't agree that's what's happening, or at least that it's very rare. Someone or
something is raising the dead, and that is the news I was bringing to the High Hall. I believe the
undead are being raised in the Grand Cemetery, which is where most of them are concentrated.
The undead that are wandering the streets appear to be scouts, send out to explore or possibly to
bring more bodies."

"You've been to the cemetery?" Lythienne asked. "Because that's where were headed."

The woman turned to her with a smile. "Well, isn't it blessed fortune that we met, then." She had
turned away from Rowan so didn't see the other priest roll her eyes ever so slightly.

Lythienne asked, "What can you tell us about the cemetery? How many undead?"

"Oh, I'd say about fifty wandering the grounds."

"Oh my," said Lythienne. "That is a lot to fight."

The woman looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure you will have to. They don't seem hostile at the
moment. They just stand there. I dared to walk near them and they didn't react to me. I didn't want
to go in further in case something woke them up, plus I decided that the High Hall should know
about this threat. Was that your purpose? To scout out their numbers?"

"No," said Farima. "We are recovering a holy relic, the Helm of Torm's Sight, in the hopes it can
guide us on a path to save the city."

"That sounds like a wonderful plan," the woman said. "I wish you good fortune, though seeing as
you have both a servant of the Lady and a minion of Heaven with you, I'm sure you will be fine."
"Are you still planning to go to High Hall?" asked Pariah. "Do you need an escort?"

"Yes, I am headed to the High Hall," the woman said, "but no to the kind offer. It is only a short
distance. However, I do have a favor to ask." She turned to Rowan. "Would you help me bless the
rest of the bodies inside before we leave? Perhaps we can help their souls reach their destination
from this foul place. And whatever is raising the dead will not be able to raise them if their bodies
have been recently sanctified."

"Yes, I'd be happy to," Rowan said with more enthusiasm than before. She patted the waterskin at
her side. "I brought a large supply of holy water for that very reason."

"Wonderful. Shall we get started? Then we can all be on our way." She gestured towards the door
of the Old High Harvest Home.

"Maybe we should check the place out first?" Pariah asked.

"No, I have already been inside. There are no threats. Perhaps it would be best if you stayed
outside and ensured that nothing else comes along."

Pariah considered that. The woman seemed awfully intent on getting Rowan alone, but Pariah
detected no overt malice. In fact she radiated genuine compassion. "All right," Pariah said slowly.
"We'll do that." To Rowan she said, "Shout if you need anything." She didn't specifically indicate
the earring. If, for some reason, this woman proved to be untrustworthy, Pariah didn't want her to
know about it.

As the two priests headed inside, Farima said, "Pariah, how about if you and Lulu and I walk
around the building and ensure there are no other dangers. The rest of you can stay here and watch
the entrance."

Pariah had been planning to do a patrol like that with Lythienne, but Farima's idea seemed fine. She
shrugged and said, "Sure."

They started their circuit of the Harvest Hall. The shape of it was almost like two buildings. The
main hall was a long, narrow three-story structure with the building's only entrance on one of the
short sides. Wrapped around two sides of that was a wider four-story building. Pariah estimated the
complex was about as long as the High Hall but about half as wide. It was situated near the cliff
edge, though with a wide road between the grounds and the cliff itself.

Pariah looked over the buildings and alleys as they passed but saw no movement. She doubted the
devil that had escaped planned to ambush them, but she was concerned that he might bring allies if
they waited too long.

The far end of the building was near the cliff and, as they approached the edge, they could see the
city spread out below them all the way to the city wall. She could see patches of destruction and a
haze of smoke that hung over the area, though no openly burning fires. She could also see a few
distinctive buildings such as a tall tower about in the midpoint of the area below her, and a large
complex built up against the wall in the distance. She also saw an open area against another part of
the wall. "That might be the cemetery," she said, pointing.

"Uh huh," said Farima distantly.

Pariah looked over to see that Farima was looking behind them, as though checking if they were
being followed. Pariah said, "What are you looking at?"

Farima turned to her. "I wanted to ask you something," she said in a conspiratorial tone, looking
behind them again. "What do you think of Lythienne?"

Pariah was confused by the question. "What?" she asked.

"I mean lately," Farima amended. "Her behavior seems odd to me. She just seems a little..." Farima
searched for a word.

"Bloodthirsty?" Pariah asked, remembering the recent fight.

Farima looked surprised. "I was going to say 'overenthusiastic', but yes. She seems to suddenly
have a disturbing zeal for combat."

Pariah was still confused. "Why ask me?"

Farima pursed her lips. Uncomfortably she said, "Because your devil's sight gives you some
awareness of people's true nature."

Pariah thought about it. "Well, it's like she gets these flashes of anger." She shrugged. "Some
people go a little nuts in a fight. It doesn't mean anything."

"Perhaps," Farima said. "But she didn't show such eagerness before. It's only been since we've
come here. I worry that this evil place might have a corrupting influence on us, and I fear it might
already be affecting her."

"Oh," Pariah said. "I hadn't really thought of that." She frowned. "I mean, I've noticed it too. And
you're right, it's just been in the last day or so. She does seem different somehow."

"You guys are so mean!" Lulu said heatedly. "Lythienne's fine. So she likes to kill bad stuff. What's
wrong with that? You shouldn't say mean things about her."

"I mean no insult," Farima assured her. "She has been a loyal ally through all of this. I am
concerned for her safety, that is all."

"Well, okay," Lulu said reluctantly. "It's just you all said mean stuff about Zariel already. I don't
want you to do that with Lythienne. I like her."

"We like her too," Pariah said. "And Farima's right. We are worried about her, just like you are
worried about Zariel."

"Do you think it is worth speaking to her?" Farima asked.

"No," Pariah said slowly. "Probably not. We'll keep an eye on her. Lulu's right; if she's crazy about
killing devils, I'm okay with that, as long as she doesn't turn that anger on anyone she shouldn't."

They finished their circuit of the building and found no trace of danger. They returned to the others
and waited for the priests to finish. Pariah took the opportunity to search the devils, finding more
of the obsidian chits.

After a while, Pariah started to get worried. "Is it me or have they been up there a long time?"

"I guess it depends on how many bodies there are," Kavra said. "But I was starting to think the
same thing."

Pariah pinched the earring. "Rowan, how's it coming along?"

There was nothing but silence and Pariah's worry started to increase, but then Rowan's voice came
 on. "Oh, sorry. We've been talking. We're done here. We're coming down."

"Okay," Pariah said.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before the two women came back outside. Pariah was still feeling
suspicious. "Everything okay?" she asked Rowan.

The woman looked surprised. "Yeah, it's fine. We just got to talking about priest stuff, like Tymora
and faith and things like that." She smiled. "Sorry if we lost track of time."

Pariah could see a certain calmness to Rowan that hadn't been there before. "All right," Pariah said.

"Well, I should be on my way," said the old woman. She hugged Rowan and said, "Blessed
fortune, sister."

"Blessed fortune," Rowan replied.

"And to all of you," the woman said to the rest of the group. "May Lady Luck light your path."

With that, she turned and started walking towards High Hall. Rowan looked at the group and said,
"Shall we go then?"

Chapter End Notes

This encounter was a combination of "Execution" (with a splash of "Nasty Weather",

option #3) from Encounters in Avernus and "Old High Harvest Home" from the
Alexandrian Remix. I increased the number of devils from 3 to 5 to reflect the party,
especially the addition of Kavra.
 A Wandering Merchant
Chapter Summary

The group's mood is slightly higher after saving the Tymoran priest from the bearded
devils, but the group still has a long walk through dangerous streets to reach a
cemetery rumored to be overrun with undead so that they can recover the Helm of
Torm's Sight.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

After departing the Old High Harvest Home, the group continued along the road that followed the
cliff until it led them to another set of switchback stairs that took them down into Westerly, the
west side of the city. Another tremor hit as they were descending, which made for a heart-pounding
moment, but other than that the descent was uneventful. From there the winding streets took them
roughly west.

Despite the widespread destruction, Pariah could see this had once been a more upscale part of
town than the area they had started in. Multi-story buildings were more common, and through the
occasional collapsed wall she could see nicer furnishings inside. This wasn't the domain of rich
people, but it was the domain of people who didn't sweat or beg for a living.

As they continued through the streets, sounds of battle grew more distant. The city was quiet here
and that put Pariah's nerves on edge. After fighting every step of the way, this long stretch of
nothing was making her tense up.

Maybe it was that nothing that put her off her guard. Maybe that was the reason she came around
the corner without looking to make sure it was safe. Maybe that's why she suddenly found herself
confronted by a horror that towered over her, its body wrapped in dark metal chains that sprouted
bloody blades and spikes. Maybe that's why she froze, the creatures hungry gaze piercing her as its
mouth split into a maniac grin. She tried to will herself into action as the mouth opened revealing
multiple rows of shark-like teeth.

"Hello, friend!" it said in thickly accented Common. "Keys. Buy. Sell. You want?"

Stab, dodge, parry, move -- those were the thoughts racing through Pariah's head in that moment,
but those weren't the thoughts she needed right now. An awkward silence stretched out as she tried
to make sense of what was happening, until she finally managed to stammer out, "What?"

"Keys," it said again. It held out an arm and shook it with a flat jingle. Pariah's eyes flicked down
to its arm and saw that the chains that wrapped its body were festooned not only with sharp and
pointy objects, but also countless keys. Some were shiny, some dull and rusted. Most were made of
iron or brass, while others looked like they might be silver and gold. There were ornate keys set
with tiny gems, rusted keys that looked like they'd snap if used, and crude keys carved from bone.

Pariah looked back into its horrifying face, still struggling to make sense of this. She and
Lythienne exchanged a glance and then Pariah said to the devil, "You don't want to fight?"
It shrugged, its chains clinking. "You want fight? We fight. But no fight. Keys. Buy. Sell."

The rest of the group had caught up. "Hold on," Lythienne said to them. "We are talking."

"No!" piped up Lulu. "It's evil. We have to kill it."

The devil looked at her and its eyes narrowed as it emitted a growl that sent chills up Pariah's
spine. "You make pet quiet," it said, "or I make pet quiet."

"I'd like to see you try!" Lulu said, fluttering in his face.

"Lulu, that's enough," Kavra said sharply. "Stand down." When Lulu hesitated, the lieutenant
barked, "Now!"

Lulu reluctantly backed off mumbling, "Meanie."

Kavra turned to the fiend and asked, "What do you want?"

The devil sighed. With annoyance creeping into its tone, it said, "Agauk khongel. Keys. Buy. Sell."
Pariah recognized the first part as Infernal that roughly translated as "stupid mortals".

Seeing that Kavra was struggling with the situation as she had, Pariah said to the devil, "Sorry.
Every devil we've met tries to kill us. We're not used to one talking to us."

It gave another rattling shrug. "You want kill? I kill. But no kill. Keys. Buy. Sell."

Pariah wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but she reminded herself what she'd read about these
fiends. This was a chain devil. They were especially sadistic even for the Hells. He was more
likely to torture them than kill them. For all she knew this was some kind of twisted trap. "Why
keys?" she asked. "What's special about them?"

"Keys are magic." He frowned. "No, not magic. They are..." He struggled for the word. " Engelak,"
he said.

Pariah thought about the word. "Incredible," she said to the others. "Wonderful."

The devil raised his eyebrows, or at least the ridges above his eyes where humans would have
eyebrows. "You speak Infernal?" he asked in that language.

"Yes," she replied in the same tongue, "though I've been told I have an accent."

He nodded sagely. "Well, you do speak like a hamatula." When she looked confused, he said, "A
type of lesser baatezu. Lower class devils."

She knew that most devils fell under the designation baatezu, but she didn't know really understand
what that meant or what a non-baatezu was. The other word wasn't familiar to her, though.

Kavra interrupted her train of thought, saying, "Lets keep this conversation in a language we all
understand."

"Right," Pariah said, switching back to Common. "We were just discussing my accent." To the
devil, she said, "OK, so keys are wonderful. Why?"

He said, "They open things that not open. Like this." With one claw he lifted a heavy padlock that
held his chains shut. Now that she was looking for them, Pariah realized that among the blades and
spikes and keys were several locks that secured the chains to him.
"You want to be free?" she asked.

"Yes. I open chains."

"So you just buy keys hoping you'll stumble across the key that opens your locks?" she asked.

"Yes. You sell key?"

Pariah thought about the lockpicks in her bag. She doubted the locks on his chains could be easily
picked, plus she didn't relish getting that close to him. "I don't think we have any keys to sell," she
said.

"Sad," he replied. "You buy? One chit, one key."

"Chit?" she said. She sheathed her blade and fished one of the black stone tokens out of her belt
pouch. "You mean these?"

"Yes. One chit, one key."

"So these are money," she said, mostly to herself.

"Yes."

"Then what are soul coins?" she asked as she put the chit back in her pouch.

Kavra frowned at her in confusion. "Soul coins?"

"We came across devils asking for them," Pariah explained. To the devil she repeated, "What are
soul coins?"

He reached into the chains that shrouded his body, and he pulled out a large disk of what looked
like the same dark metal as his shackles. It was a hand span across and about twice as thick as
Pariah's finger. The edge was inscribed with Infernal characters that spelled out "Glory To
Mammon". The face of the coin was decorated with an abstract pattern that looked vaguely like a
hammer, and displayed two more Infernal inscriptions. Along the top it read, "Power From Greed",
and along the bottom was the word "Dominate".

She looked back into the devil's eyes. "OK, but what is it?"

"Is soul coin," he said. When her brow furrowed, he said impatiently, "Coin with soul." She could
hear the "agauk khongel" in his tone. He added, "Money for devil."

"There's a soul in that?" she asked.

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "You touch. You see."

"Touch?" she asked suspiciously. "The coin?"

"Yes." When he saw her reaction, he chuckled in a way that set her nerves even more on edge. "No
trick. I no hurt. I trade. Keys. Buy. Sell. You touch coin. Feel soul."

Devils do not lie but they do mislead, she told herself. And yet she had a perverse desire to touch
the black metal disk. Something in her wanted to feel its dark surface. She pulled the glove off of
her right hand. As she reached out, the others started to speak up.

"Are you sure you want to..." Rowan began.

"I do not think you should..." said Farima.

"Pariah, no!" Lulu squeaked.

But the tip of her finger had already brushed the surface. Something rushed into her mind. Help
me! a voice shrieked. It's not my fault. I don't deserve to be here. That child was deformed. I did it a
mercy when I-

Pariah jerked her hand away and leapt back a step. "Talona's tits! What the fuck was that?" she
demanded.

The devil's eye ridges furrowed. "Is soul," he said in bewilderment.

"What happened?" Rowan asked her.

Pariah's heart was pounding. She took a breath to calm herself. "I don't know. I heard a voice. I
guess the voice of whoever's in there."

"See?" said Lulu. "They trade in souls. They are evil. We have to kill it."

The chains around the devil's body started to stir like branches blown by the wind. "I say again," it
said coldly. "You make pet quiet."

"Lulu," Lythienne said gently, "not now. We'll discuss this later, but right now we are talking to
this gentleman."

Lulu grumbled in Celestial but didn't interfere. Pariah, wanting to get the devil's attention off the
hollyphant, asked, "But what are soul coins for?"

The devil glared at Lulu for a moment and then turned back to Pariah. As he put the soul coin back
in the depths if his chains, he said, "Soul coin big money. Chits little money. Someone with soul
coin make chits to...uh..." He looked at Pariah and asked "Zhodshkakoki?"

Pariah said hesitantly, "Replace? Stand for?"

The devil nodded. "Yes. Stand for soul coin. Make a thousand chits to one soul coin. Keep soul
coin, spend chits. More easy. Only some make chits. Others don't; just use other people's chits.
That one," he pointed to the chit in Pariah's hand, "made by Mahadi. Others made by Bel, Mad
Maggie, Feonor, others. Chits as good as maker. Mahadi chits good; everyone take. Feonor chits
bad; nobody take but maybe warlords."

Pariah struggled a bit to follow his broken speech but she thought she understood the basics. She
had more questions, but Kavra suddenly said sharply, "This economic theory is fascinating, but if
we aren't going to fight then we need to get moving."

The devil said, "Keys? Buy? Sell?"

This time, Pariah did laugh. It was all so ridiculous. "Sure," she said, pulling out a chit and tossing
it to him. "I'll buy a key." She might as well have some kind of souvenir of the place other than
new scars.

He gave her a terrifying smile and held his arms out to display his wares. "You pick."

Pariah ran her eyes over the dozens, maybe hundreds, of keys hanging off his chains. None of them
really stood out. She would just be choosing one at random.
At random, she thought. She turned to Rowan. "Why don't you pick one? We could use some good
fortune."

"Yeah, all right," Rowan said a little reluctantly. She stepped over to stand in front of the devil. She
closed her eyes and said, "Tymora, please guide my hand." She pointed at the devil and then
started to move her hand in a circle. After a few circuits, she stopped moving and opened her eyes.
Her finger was pointing to a small brass key. It was too small to be for a door. It was more likely
for a jewelry box. "That one, I guess."

"Good key," he said as he jerked the key off his chain. "Given by imp. Stolen from cemetery."

Rowan stared at him, stunned. "The cemetery? You mean the Grand Cemetery?"

The devil shrugged, "Not know name." He pointed towards the west. "Big cemetery. There." He
held out the key to Rowan. She opened her hand and he dropped it into her palm.

"Buy more?" he asked, but nobody in the group seemed interested. "Okay," he said. "Sell soul?"

The group suddenly got tense as he looked them over with a predatory air. Then he laughed. "Joke.
Well, no joke. You sell soul, I buy. I give you lot. But I think you not sell soul." He grinned. "Not
yet." He waved and said, "Goodbye, friend." He strode off down the street, chains jingling.

Rowan was still staring in wonderment at the key in her hand. Pariah said to her, "I guess Lady
Luck is with us after all."

Rowan snorted, but also smiled as she stashed the key into a pouch on her belt.

"We shouldn't be talking to devils," Lulu insisted. "They're evil. They'll trick us. That key is
probably cursed or something."

Farima said, "I must admit that I am uncomfortable with the negotiation that just occurred. While I
agree with the point that we cannot fight every fiend we see, we must not forget what these
creatures are. They are not our friends. They are not our allies. They are evil creatures who view us
as prey. We must tread carefully while we are trapped in their world or risk being corrupted or
destroyed."

Pariah realized that her hand was still bare. She quickly put the glove back on, unsure if Kavra had
seen the writing or knew what it meant.

"We are going to need allies," Lythienne was saying. "Or at least a lack of enemies. Like it or not,
we may have to pick the literal lesser of evils from time to time."

"Besides, it was just a key," said Rowan.

"That's how they start," said Lulu. "Evil asks for something small. Then something bigger. Then
bigger. He was right. You may not sell your souls today but you'll sell them eventually." She added
in a meant-to-be-heard mumble, "Those of you who haven't already."

Pariah frowned as she remembered that Lulu could read minds, but saw no reason to respond to the
remark.

Kavra, however, looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" she asked Lulu. "Are you saying someone
has made a deal with the devils?"

"Oh, I think she's just being dramatic," said Lythienne quickly. "It's nothing to worry about."
Kavra's puzzlement changed to suspicion. "What is nothing to worry about?" she asked.

Ryland broke in to say, "It's complicated, lieutenant. But she's right. It's nothing to worry about."

Kavra scanned the group, thoughts chasing each other across her face. Pariah felt her heart
pounding, not sure how to handle this situation, and then Kavra relaxed. "You all saved my life.
And you fought off the attack on the main crypt. You've earned my trust." She shrugged. "And
what I don't know, I can't tell anyone else. Let's get going."

Farima said, "Lulu," and then said something to the hollyphant in Celestial. Lulu responded in the
same language, her tone sulky. Farima gave her a firm reply, and then said to the group, "Yes, let
us keep moving."

They got back into formation and continued towards the cemetery. Pariah forced herself back into
alertness, not wanting to get surprised again, but the streets were quiet. Despite her effort to pay
attention to her surroundings, her mind kept going back to what Lulu had said. It seemed obvious
she knew about Levistus. They were going to have to talk to her about it if she was going to keep
traveling with them.

There's nothing to talk about. It's bad to make deals with devils.

Pariah stopped and turned. As before, the others were about twenty feet back, a little far for quiet
conversation. Lulu was flying over their heads, her eyes fixed on Pariah.

It's rude to look into people's minds without their permission, Pariah thought at her.

Yeah...well...it's rude to have secrets, Lulu thought back.

"What is it?" Lythienne asked her in a low voice. The others had stopped, looking at Pariah in
confusion.

"Lulu is talking to me," Pariah said to Lythienne. She held up her index finger to the others to
indicate they should wait for a moment.

To Lulu she thought, We'll talk about it later. Right now we need to pay attention to what's going
on around us. There are devils and undead here and we don't want them to surprise us.

Devils are bad. We shouldn't talk to them. We should kill them.

Pariah wouldn't have said this out loud, but the thought was in her head before she could stop it.
Zariel's a devil. Should we kill her too?

She regretted the thought immediately. She was getting annoyed at Lulu but she hadn't meant to be
cruel. Wait, Lulu, she thought quickly. I didn't meant it like that. I just mean... Look, it's too much
to talk about now. Please, just help us. I promise we'll talk about it later.

There was a long pause and then a pouty Fine.

Pariah sighed, turned back forward and they resumed walking.

It was only a few blocks before Kavra said, "This is where we split up." She pointed down one
street. "The Shieldhall is that way." She pointed down another. "The cemetery is there." She
removed the communication earring and handed it to Ryland.

"Are you certain you don't want us to accompany you?" Farima asked in concern.
 "I'm sure," she said with confidence. "It's not far and, as you see, the streets aren't too dangerous
here. I'll be careful." She grinned at Lythienne. "Besides, if you showed up there, I'm not sure
they'd let you leave."

Lythienne looked puzzled, and Kavra continued, a little embarrassed. "I've been trying not to gush
since I found out who you were. There are statues of the three Heroes of the Vampire Siege in the
main entrance."

Lythienne smiled sadly. "I know. I was there for the dedication."

Kavra chuckled. "Right. Of course you were. Sorry, I sometimes have trouble relating to the idea
that elves today were alive for things that happened when my parents were children." She reached
out to shake Lythienne's hand and said somberly, "It is a genuine honor to meet you."

"The honor is mine," Lythienne assured her. "I appreciate the people living up to Evaelisar's
memory."

Kavra turned to the others. "And all of you, since you'll never hear it from Ravengard, thank you
for what you've done so far. If you get beat up in the cemetery and want a place to rest, the
Shieldhall would be only too willing to put you up."

"We'll keep that in mind," said Rowan.

Kavra gave them a final nod of goodbye, returned Ryland's salute, and then started down the road
towards the Shieldhall.

Chapter End Notes

This is "Keeper of the Keys" from Encounters in Avernus. The bits of Infernal are my
own creation using the language generator at
https://rollforfantasy.com/tools/language-generator.php. I'd link the language but it
doesn't look like you can do that. It saves locally.

I had a little bit of trouble with Pariah juggling things. She's holding her sword. But
she's pulling out a chit. But she's touching the coin. Oh but she wears gloves so she
should pull one off. But then where does everything else go? I had to go back and
tweak on some of the text to be sure everything was accounted for in a way that made
sense. Of course, nobody but me would probably notice that.
 A Grand Cemetery
Chapter Summary

The group reaches the Grand Cemetery and wonders what obstacles they will have to
overcome to reach the Helm of Torm's Sight.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The brass fence before them was nearly twice Pariah's height. It was twisted, and in several places
had completely collapsed. The main gates hung open, swinging slightly despite the fact there was
no wind. Past the fence, the cemetery covered several city blocks. Cracked gravestones, crumbling
monuments and numerous open graves were scattered across the carpet of dry, dead grass that
covered the grounds. Any flowers she could see were wilted and black. Roughly in the middle of
the cemetery was a building that glowed with a fetid purple radiance. She could see broken
windows of stained glass, their images twisted into fiendish hellscapes just as the artwork in the
High Hall had been. A smaller building stood to the side of the main chapel.

And, of course, there were the dead.

Dozens of corpses in varying states of decay littered the cemetery. Some were so fresh they were
barely distinguishable from the living. Others displayed flesh that had been warped by decay. A
handful were little more than bare bones held together by a few stubborn tendons. However, these
bodies didn't lay sprawled on the ground; they stood around the cemetery, unmoving, staring
blankly at the ground in front of them.

"I wasn't expecting so many," said Lythienne.

Rowan nodded. "I know she said around fifty, but either there are more now or she miscounted."
Pariah estimated there were at least twice that number, most of them clustered around the main
chapel. She and her companions were standing in the street outside the fence. As the priest had
said, the undead didn't seem to notice them at all.

Farima observed, "The guardian in the High Hall crypts did not awaken until someone disturbed a
casket. Perhaps these are the same. Perhaps they only guard this place against desecration."

"Perhaps," said Pariah, "but I'd hate to be in the middle of them if they suddenly decide we are the
bad guys."

"And we are here to retrieve an artifact," observed Lythienne. "I wonder what their opinion of that
will be."

Pariah eyed the smaller building near the chapel. It was the priest's quarters and the first place they
would need to go. Jynks had said the door to the underground ossuary was normally kept locked.
The key might be in that room, unless it was on the body of the priest himself. In the latter case,
there was a good chance he was in that room anyhow. Either way, Jynks had suggested they look in
there first. Pariah was willing to try picking or breaking the lock to the ossuary, but realized that
the gods -- not to mention Farima -- might not always appreciate such actions. It would be better to
find the key.

A path led from the gate to the main chapel door, and past that to the smaller building.
Unfortunately she saw no way of reaching the building, whether they used the path or not, that
didn't take them past a host of undead.

"We could just fight our way in," said Ryland reluctantly. "I mean that might make the most
tactical sense, rather than letting ourselves be surrounded."

Pariah heard the hesitation in his voice. "But?" she asked.

He pursed his lips. "Look, fighting devils and monsters is one thing. But these are citizens of
Elturel, people I'm sworn to protect. I don't know what raised them but I don't want to fight them if
I don't have to. I've already raised my sword against Hellriders, and I know I had to, but..." He
trailed off.

"Yeah, I get it," sighed Pariah.

Farima said, "Perhaps a display of the War Gauntlet would appease them. I could lead the way.
Show them I am an ally of Torm. And perhaps we should sheathe our weapons."

The latter suggestion made Pariah nervous, though she saw Farima's point. "I don't think we can
fight through that," she said.

"I agree," said Rowan. "So we try just walking in?"

They all exchanged glances but nobody objected. Rowan looked at the hollyphant and said, "Lulu?
Are you okay with that?"

"Well," she said, stretching the word out. "I guess so. I mean undead are bad, but not as bad as
demons and devils. And they aren't hurting anyone. And maybe you're right, maybe they are just
making sure the bad people don't come in. So okay."

Lythienne said, "But if they attack us, then we fight." She looked pointedly at Ryland and said,
"Right?"

He grimaced, but said, "Right," without enthusiasm.

They sheathed their weapons and walked through the open main gate, Farima leading the way with
her gauntleted hand raised before her like a lantern.

They snaked single file among the stationary corpses, careful not to touch them or even come
closer than they needed to. Pariah was afraid that any sound could awaken them. Her hand hovered
near the hilt of her sword but she kept it sheathed as they walked.

The creatures didn't react. They remained still, like statues. There was some movement -- flies
buzzed around them, maggots crawled on their flesh, and strange bodily fluids dripped slowly from
some of them -- but the corpses themselves remained motionless.

Then, without warning, every single body moved as one. Their heads turned and their dead gazes
fixed on the intruders. The group froze. "Do not move," said Farima softly.

Pariah's breath grew short as she waited for the undead mob to spring into action. She longed to
draw her blade and fight, but she wasn't going to be the first to act. Her heart pounded once, twice,
a half dozen times and nothing else happened. The undead were just as motionless as before,
except that every unblinking eye and empty eye socket was trained on the newcomers.

"Let us continue," said Farima and she resumed walking slowly.

The group continued towards the priest's quarters and, as they did, the undead stares tracked them.
Pariah turned, walking backwards so that she could watch behind them in case of ambush. The
bodies stood their ground, moving only their heads to watch the party as they passed through the
cemetery.

"We are here," Farima sighed in relief. They had finally arrived at the priest's quarters.

"Be ready," Pariah said. "Opening that door might set them off. If it does, retreat inside. We'll
funnel them through the door."

Pariah still hadn't drawn her sword, but she kept her hand on the hilt, watching the undead mob as
Farima gently turned the handle. The door opened silently and Pariah jumped when a man's voice
said calmly, "What are you doing in my cemetery?"

The corpses remained still, so Pariah felt safe glancing over her shoulder into the room. She caught
a glimpse of furnishings but her attention was on a man who was sitting at a desk writing in a book.
His back was to them. "Well?" he said over his shoulder when they didn't respond.

"Let's get inside," suggested Rowan.

They entered the building and closed the door behind them. Inside was a single room with a bed,
desk, dresser, table and chairs. The furnishings were simple, reminiscent of the furniture in
Rowan's cell though a little bit better quality. There were also four holy symbols on the wall: the
rising sun of Lathander, the eye of Helm, the scales of Tyr and the fist of Torm.

Ryland said, "Uh...you're Master Lightward, right?"

"I am," the man said, putting the quill into the pot of ink and then sprinkling a pinch of sand over
the page. "And you are?" He stood and turned to face the group. He was a tall, wiry and dark-
skinned man wearing priestly vestments. Although well preserved, he was also quite obviously
dead.

"Private Mantlemorn," Ryland said. "Of the Hellriders." He quickly introduced the others. To the
group he said, "Gideon Lightward is the priest who runs the cemetery. I've never met him, but I've
been at the funerals he's presided over."

Gideon studied the group in front of him, his eyes bright with intelligence. Pariah realized she was
frowning and tried to adopt a more neutral expression. This man radiated wrongness in a way the
undead guardian in the crypts had not. Even the chain devil hadn't given off this kind of aura. She
wasn't sure what it meant, but this was not a man she trusted.

"You haven't answered my question," he said. "What are you doing in my cemetery?"

Farima said quickly, "Forgive us, Master Lightward. We had not expected to find anyone
alive...er...that is to say, anyone we could speak to here. We have been sent on a mission from the
High Hall to recover the Helm of Torm's Sight. It is believed it may be instrumental to saving
Elturel and returning it to the Material Plane."

He gave her a cold stare, including a shrewd glance at the War Gauntlet. "You are not the first to
seek the helm."
"Yes, we understand that another group had been sent to recover it. Do you know their fate?"

He shook his head. "They went into the ossuary and never returned." His voice grew hard. "It was
not long after that the demon attacks began. I would hate to think the High Hall was instrumental in
that."

"I am certain they were not," said Farima in surprise. "What demon attacks, if I might ask?"

"Shortly after the soldiers descended into the ossuary, demons started to swarm up the stairs. I do
not know where they are coming from, only that the intrusion started after the soldiers entered. I
believe they did something to trigger this invasion, though I acknowledge it may not have been
deliberate. The door to the ossuary is physically and magically strong so we have been able to keep
the evil forces sealed away, but if you intend to reach the Helm of Torm's Sight, you will have to
fight your way through them."

"Then we have your permission to retrieve the helm?" Farima asked.

He thought about his answer, his face revealing nothing about his thoughts, and then said, "I see
you bear the War Gauntlet and are accompanied by a celestial. In light of that, I will allow you into
the ossuary. However, the door will be sealed behind you and will not be re-opened if I feel that
doing so will endanger the chapel."

"Understood."

"Come with me," Gideon said. He walked to the door, opened it and exited his quarters.

As the others moved to follow, Pariah hung back. The book on the desk was still open to allow the
fresh ink to dry, and she glanced at the last few lines he had written.

Have they come to aid me or test my faith? Are they enemies of Chaos or its servants?
They will bolster my army regardless, either as allies or as corpses.

Pariah glanced up to see everyone was facing away from her. She quietly closed the book, slipped
the heavy volume into her satchel, and then joined the others as they filed out of the room.

Outside, she saw the undead had returned to staring blankly rather than tracking the newcomers.
Gideon led them to the white marble patio in front of the dark mahogany doors that were the main
entrance. The doors were ajar, and the left one hung awkwardly from bent hinges. Two stained
glass windows on either side had been smashed from the inside, leaving colorful shards of glass
spread across the white marble.

Ten pillars lined the walkway in front of the building, each carved in the likeness of a person.
Shadows played strangely across the surfaces of the pillars, which puzzled Pariah. The only
illumination was the steady red light from the sky so the shadows should not move at all. However,
she was distracted from the pillars by the distant and erratic sound of pounding coming from within
the chapel. She couldn't tell what it was.

"What happened here?" Ryland asked as he surveyed the damage.

Gideon pulled hard on the right door and it opened with a squeal. He said, "The first rush of
demons took us by surprise. I had not gathered many forces at the time, but by the grace of the
gods we were able to defeat them." He led them into the dimly lit chapel. "And now those fiends
serve a higher cause."

Seven skeletons stood just inside the chapel, but these were not humans or elves or any race Pariah
was familiar with. They were massive humanoids, standing head and shoulders over the rest of the
group. They were roughly humanoid but had hooves instead of feet, and the heads of bulls. They
were armed with greataxes and polearms. The pounding sound was louder here, but she couldn't
tell where it was coming from.

"These are minotaurs, I believe," said Lythienne.

"Yes they are," Gideon replied.

"Minotaurs are demons?" Lythienne asked in confusion. "I have heard stories of heroes braving
their labyrinths, but I had not heard they were demons."

"Those who have heard of them know them as simple monsters," he acknowledged. "However, it
has been revealed to me that they were originally created by the demon Baphomet. Since they are
the creatures that have come from below, I can only assume that somehow Baphomet is behind this
invasion."

Hesitantly, Farima said, "And you raised them to serve you?"

Gideon nodded. "After they were killed, yes." He fixed her with a glare. "Do I hear disapproval in
your voice?"

Farima blanched under his gaze. "No. I do not mean to judge," she said.

He said firmly, "I am raising an army to defend the city from demons. I will do whatever it takes to
fight the hordes of Chaos."

"Of course," she said quickly. "An admirable goal."

Gideon turned his gaze away from her to look at the skeletal minotaurs. After a silent moment, four
of them went out through the main doors to take station on the patio. The other three remained
inside, standing motionless.

Pariah tore her eyes away from the undead to look over the main area of the chapel. It had clearly
been beautiful once, but now was littered with broken furnishings and streaks of blood. Other
stained glass windows had been smashed like the two on the main hall but one remained intact and
uncorrupted by the evils of Avernus. It showed a god placing a golden helm on the head of a man
kneeling before him.

Towards the back of the main area, a corridor led off to another room and next to that was a
curtained off space. Gideon pushed through the curtain and the group followed, Pariah in the lead.
She realized the pounding was coming from the direction they were headed.

The room beyond the curtain was round and littered with smashed mirrors and shattered wardrobes
that spilled out priestly vestments. There were two other openings, both curtained as well, and a
heavy oak door banded with iron. The door shuddered as a great weight slammed against it from
the other side.

Gideon nodded towards the door. "That is the staircase that leads down into the ossuary. The
forces of the Abyss have been trying to break through for days. More minotaurs I imagine. When
we open the door, we must prevent them from getting out of the chapel and into the city." Skeletal
minotaurs took up station, one in each of the curtained openings, their weapons held at the ready.

As he walked towards the door, Gideon nodded towards the middle of the room. "Get yourselves
ready. I do not know how many are behind this door. I will close it if the hordes seem too
numerous."

The group took up positions inside the room, placing themselves so that anything that came out
would have to go through them to get to the openings leading out. Ryland took the center, Pariah
on his left and Lythienne on his right. Farima, Rowan and Lulu lined up behind them.

"When you are ready," said Ryland.

Gideon had taken out a large iron key. He place it into the lock and then waited. Another blow
smashed against the door, and right after that Gideon turned the key, pulled the door open, and
moved back out of the way.

It was not a minotaur that rushed out of the doorway, but rather a twisted creature covered in plates
of deep purple chitin. It was humanoid, roughly halfling sized, but had an insect-like face, two
lobster claws with jagged edges, and an enormous tail that bore a stinger glistening with poison. It
rushed in, knocking Gideon off balance before he could move out if its way, and then it rushed
towards the others. Ryland moved to intercept it, blocking the stinger as it stabbed down at him.

Rowan's spiritual coins and Farima's magical bolts peppered it as Pariah and Lythienne moved up.
Its massive claw shielded its body, making it hard for Pariah to find a vulnerable spot, but she
found an opening and stabbed her rapier between its armored plates. Suddenly her shoulder wound
gave a sharp twinge and she grunted through gritted teeth as her hand involuntarily opened, and the
creature shifted away, taking her rapier with it.

As Pariah was trying to figure out how to recover her weapon, she realized a half-dozen other
creatures had followed the first one through the door. They were small and muscular four-legged
beasts about the size of large dogs. They had no fur or scales, only dull green naked skin. Their
bat-like heads snarled and howled as thick spittle dropped from their teeth. A cloud of green
miasma followed them and spread into the room, and Pariah started to gag as the foul gas entered
her lungs. Meanwhile, Gideon had fallen back rather than attacking the fiends.

Pariah fired a beam of cold into the greenish mist. The new creatures weren't hard to see and she
hit one, but the gas was making her dizzy so she stepped backwards trying to escape it. She was
vaguely aware of the armored demon falling to the ground with a thud, and Ryland rushed forward
to engage the new enemies. Pariah wasn't sure whether they should charge into the gas or fall back
and attack them from a distance, but her decision was made when she backed into something bony.
She looked behind her to see that the skeletal minotaur in the curtained doorway was not about to
move.

"Talona's tits," she muttered, an appropriate curse considering the poison that was making her
cough and her eyes tear. She rushed into the gas to retrieve her rapier. The chitin-plated demon was
gone, now nothing but a pool of dark ichor with her weapon lying beside it. The sticky ichor
stained the blade but the handle was clean. She snatched it up and closed with the other creatures.
They reared up on their hind legs to attack with claws and teeth, and even then they were only
about Pariah's height. They were not all that tough, and the group managed to defeat them without
any injury. Each of them dissolved into pools of slime as well.

The gas was already thinning by the time the battle was over, and Pariah was starting to feel better.
"Why don't we step outside until the air clears?" suggested Lythienne.

"Perhaps you should head down into the ossuary," said Gideon. "The air may be clearer down
there."

Pariah turned to see him standing with folded arms, and clearly not affected at all by the poison in
 the air. Not needing to breathe had its advantages. She also saw that the skeletal minotaurs had not
moved, and continued to block the exits from the room. The message was clear: their only option
was to descend the stairs past the doorway.

She saw no point in picking a fight with Gideon, especially with an army of undead behind him, so
she shrugged and went to the top of the stairs. She couldn't see anything looking down -- the stairs
simply curved away into darkness -- but she could hear no movement either. The stairs were
narrow so they'd have to go down single file.

"Head right at the bottom of the stairs," Gideon said. "The Helm of Torm's Sight is kept in the
Vault of Honor." Sternly he added, "Show respect. Do not take anything but the helm, and return
immediately. Do not disturb the dead."

Unless they've already been disturbed, Pariah thought to herself. She started down the steps as
Lythienne fell in behind her and the others waited for them to pull ahead.

Chapter End Notes

First, a note about tags. I recently wrote a disturbing horror scene for a future chapter,
and I debated about whether to update my tags. In the end, I decided that that type of
content is (for now) a one-time thing, and I'm not going to tag a very long work over
one scene. I added a content warning to the beginning of the chapter in question, and I
added a Body Horror tag because of multiple encounters with undead and demons that
will contain graphic descriptions. However, let's all remember that this is a story about
people in Hell. There is going to be dark stuff. Tags are subject to change, and not
everything that's mentioned once or twice is going to have a tag.

As for the current chapter, the image of the stationary undead was taken from the
movie, "The Girl with All the Gifts". There are a couple of scenes of the humans
carefully threading their way through huge crowds of dormant zombies, knowing that
anything could set them off. It was unnerving in a very different way than the more
common ravening hordes of undead.

I made a lot of tweaks to the plot here. The remix leaves it basically unchanged, other
than Ravengard not being there. I decided to bypass many of the combats with the idea
that Gideon would be curious about the newcomers. I got rid of the mezzoloths
because it doesn't make sense for Gideon to have them. I replaced the scorpion with a
scorpion-like demon with the same stat block.

I'm concerned that Lulu may be coming off too whiny. There definitely needs to be a
conversation where they work some stuff out with her, but there hasn't been a good
opportunity yet. I want her to be likeable, but she's also dealing with a lot and feels
isolated among these silly mortals. There will be a chance to have them talk it out soon
and then she should calm down a bit.

This is the point that I found my Sanity system to be burdensome. They constantly
come across devils and demons and undead. However I still want some record of
growing stress and possible corruption. About this time I found Matt Mercer's
Corruption Rules and am using that as the basis for another home brewed version. It
requires daily rolls plus additional rolls for unique events like meeting an archdevil or
using the map of Avernus.
 A Ghastly Vault
Chapter Summary

Locked in the ossuary of the Grand Cemetery by the suspicious undead priest, Gideon
Lightward, the adventurers explore the vault of bones to find the relic of Torm.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The curving stairway disappeared into the shadows, and the poison gas faded as they descended.
As the last of them passed through the door, Gideon shut it firmly and they heard the clank of the
lock. Pariah expected to be plunged into darkness, but weak light filtered up from below. The
stairway curved a half circle until it led into a small room with open double doors on the far side.
A single driftglobe in a cage lit the room dimly.

She wasn't sure what the room had been other than some kind of workshop. It had been ransacked.
Knives, saws, and shattered glassware littered the floor among pools of liquid. The sharp smell of
chemicals stung her nose even though her sense of smell was still deadened from the gas attack
above. The air was stagnant and utterly bereft of any sound other than their own footfalls.

Pariah held her weapon at the ready and noticed the black ichor that still stained the blade from the
battle above. "I thought things didn't melt here."

"Devils do not," Farima corrected her. "Demons will still dissolve as their true forms return to their
home planes." She frowned as she studied Pariah's rapier. "I suspect we should be careful not to
touch that material. Demonic fluids can deform and corrupt, much more easily and severely than
devilish substances."

Pariah studied the goo suspiciously, and then looked around until she found a cloth among the
debris. As she wiped her blade clean, Lythienne and Ryland did the same with their weapons.

When they were done, Pariah and Lythienne took the lead across the room while the others
followed at a distance. Even moving quietly, their soft footfalls seemed loud in the stillness.
Outside the doors, a short flight led down to a landing where more steps led both left and right. She
glanced to the left but saw only that the stairs led down into another corridor. Remembering
Gideon's instruction, they turned to the right.

The descending stairs turned and then opened into a wide room that stretched away from them.
More driftglobes provided weak light here. Three columns lined the center of the room to support
the ceiling, but the ceiling was cracked and chunks of fallen stone littered the floor. The structure
seemed safe enough now so the two women proceeded slowly into the dimly lit room. There were
two alcoves on each side of the room and each held a statue, now toppled and smashed from
whatever had caused the partial cave-in. At the far end was another alcove that held the sole intact
statue. It depicted a kneeling man and, after a moment, Pariah realized it was the same kneeling
man depicted in the stained glass window she had seen above.

"Lannish Fogel," Lythienne said quietly, her voice loud in the stillness. "Legend says he was the
one on whom Torm bestowed the helm." She sighed heavily. "The helm that is now missing."
The head of the statue was shaped oddly and Pariah now realized that it had been carved to allow a
helmet to be placed there. However, his head was bare.

The others had come into the room. "What now?" Ryland asked.

Pariah frowned and asked, "Do you think Gideon already got it and just sent us down here to
imprison us?" She looked at the others. "I got a very bad feeling from him. I am certain that we
can't trust him now, no matter what he was when he was alive."

Farima pursed her lips. "He is a priest of Lathander and deserves the benefit of the doubt."
Reluctantly she added, "However, I will admit that his time in the Hells and the fact he is now
undead may have twisted his mind."

Pariah said, "I know you don't like my devil's sight, but I'm telling you that something is wrong
with him. He's not our friend."

Varying emotions flitted across Farima's face. Before she could respond, Lythienne said, "Look at
this." She was crouched down, looking at the floor. "Look at these stains. They look like
footprints."

Pariah looked at the floor and, now that Lythienne had pointed it out, she agreed that there was a
pattern of marks that looked like boot soles tracked in the noxious fluids from the workshop above.
Lythienne pointed to tracks nearer to the entrance. "It looks like they came in and then left. Those
things that attacked us don't wear boots. Perhaps these are the soldiers sent by Ravengard. They
might have taken the helm and then..." She trailed off. "I suppose I'm not sure where they would
have gone after that."

"I would think they would have gone back up," said Rowan. "Even if they didn't trust Gideon,
there isn't any other way out."

"I don't see signs of a fight," Pariah mused.

Farima said, "You don't suppose..." Then she shook her head. "Never mind."

"What?" Pariah asked.

Farima vacillated and then said, "I would hate to think that they might have headed into the crypts
to look for...well...let's say further compensation."

They looked at each other uncertainly. Rowan suggested, "Or perhaps they heard the demons and
went to fight them."

"Yes," Farima said with some relief. "That must be what happened."

"Regardless," Pariah sighed, "they didn't leave. They have to be down here somewhere. Let's look
for them and see if they still have the helm."

They returned to the landing and took the other set of stairs down. Now that she was looking for
them, Pariah could see faint tracks on the ground. The stairs led down to a corridor that stretched
left and right. The hallway in both directions curved, and Pariah realized they must be on the edge
of a circle. Pariah turned to Lythienne to ask which direction to go, and saw the elf was listening.
Pariah raised her eyebrows at her and Lythienne whispered, "I hear something," as she pointed to
the right corridor. "A voice."

That made the decision for them and they turned to the right. The hallway curved until it had made
a quarter circle and then it opened up into a chamber in front of them and another to the left. The
walls of the chamber to the left were lined with shelves that held countless sets of dusty bones.
From the hallway they couldn't see the entire room in front of them, but they saw that the opposite
wall was also lined floor to ceiling with displays of bones. Pariah could hear the distant voice now,
and it sounded like it might be yelling. It was coming in the direction of the room in front.

They entered the chamber and looked around. The room was oddly shaped, curving around so they
couldn't see the entire thing. However, what they could see were walls lined with more shelves of
bones. The voice was a bit louder now and coming from their right. It was a single man's ranting
voice, but Pariah couldn't make out the words. "Can you understand him?" she asked Lythienne in
a whisper.

Lythienne's brow was furrowed. "No. It is either a language I don't understand, or it might be
gibberish like the men who were yelling in the cathedral."

They followed the voice to a hall that led out of the ossuary and into a small room decorated with
cushions and low stools of brown oak. There was an empty dais on the right wall, and above that
was a mosaic that depicted funerals and the migration of souls. Along the bottom of the mosaic was
inlaid lettering that read, "Contemplate life. Death comes soon enough." Another hall led out from
the far end of the left wall.

Pariah turned as she heard footsteps approaching. Farima was hurrying forward, her face twisted in
concentration. "That voice is speaking Celestial," she said, and then she looked puzzled.
"Sometimes. Other times he speaks something else. He seems to be alternating between two
languages."

Now that she was listening, Pariah could hear the difference. One language was flowing and
musical like the language Farima and Lulu spoke to each other. The other was guttural and dark.
Both languages sounded like they were spoken by the same voice. "What is he saying?"

Farima shook her head. "I am unsure. They are fragments. It sounds rather like bits of scripture, but
no scripture I am familiar with. There are words about the victory of light over darkness, of order
over chaos, condemnations of demons." Her frown deepened. "Something about Baphomet,
commanding him to depart. It is almost like an excerpt from an exorcism, but not quite. It does not
seem formal enough for a ritual."

"Whatever it is, it's close," Pariah said as she summoned the cold into her armor. "Let's be ready."

They moved into the far corridor, the others closer on their heels than before. There seemed to be
no real reason for stealth with the noise the speaker was making. The hallway led them down more
steps and then around a corner to a closed door. The yelling voice was clearly on the other side.
Pariah put her hand on the handle, mouthed "Ready" to the others, and then pushed the door open.

The first thing that caught her eye was the roiling field of dark purple energy on the far wall. The
energy field was a bit wider than her outstretched arms would be. The wall was decorated with
divine frescoes, but the ones near the purple energy had been twisted into depictions of bizarre
creatures. A deep hum that shook her bones emanated from the field. Keeping an eye on this
strange energy, she took in the rest of the room.

Directly in front of the door was a broad landing on the edge of a shallow pool that filled the rest of
the room. The pool swirled, though Pariah could see no reason why. The water was sickly gray and
shot through with oily black streaks that reminded her of the substance left behind when devils
died in the mortal realm. In the water were the bodies of three soldiers, two men and a woman.
One man wore the armor of the Flaming Fist while the other two bodies were clad in the uniform
of the Elturel City Guard. Kneeling in the water was another man, this one still alive, who was also
wearing the uniform of the Flaming Fist. He had a thin mustache lost among the days of stubble on
his face.

He wore a gold helm on his head rather than the usual Flaming Fist helmet. He was clawing at the
helm as though trying to remove it, and streaks of blood stained his blonde hair. His gray eyes were
full of madness as they locked on the entering group. He pled with them using words Pariah didn't
understand as he continued to pull at the helm.

"He is asking for help," Farima said as the others came into the room.

Suddenly the man's face changed into a bestial snarl, and he began ranting at them with different
words. This was the other language, the harsher one. She didn't know the words but his attitude
was threatening, although he didn't rise from his knees to attack them. Then his voice changed back
to the pleading tone.

"Lulu," Lythienne said. "Can you see into his mind?"

"I can try," she said reluctantly. She was silent for a moment and then she cried out, "Ew! It's
terrible in there. There is a demon in there. And a god. And they are fighting. Arguing. Yelling. I
don't like it."

The man switched rapidly between voices, sometimes just getting one or two words out before
changing to the other. Suddenly, he twisted at the waist to face the wall of dark energy behind him
and held out a hand. He said something in the guttural language and the energy began to pulse.
"What's he doing?" Pariah asked in alarm.

Out of the energy field came a massive humanoid with cloven feet and the head of a bull, wielding
a huge axe. Unlike the ones above, this one still had its flesh. It bellowed, lowered its head, and
charged towards them. Pariah realized it was headed for her. She tried to dodge aside and managed
to avoid the horns, but its shoulder slammed into her and knocked her off her feet. As it
straightened up to bring its axe down on her, Ryland slashed at it. The soldier screamed at it in the
melodic language, reached down to snatch up a sword off the ground, and hacked at it as well.
Those attacks diverted its attention enough that Pariah was able to roll to her feet, splash through
the shallow water to the other side of the minotaur and plunge her rapier into its side.

Her new position put her back to the portal and allowed her to see the rest of the group. Lulu, in the
back, was engaged with some small flying creature that Pariah couldn't see. Farima's eyes widened
and she shouted, "Look out!" She held out her staff, muttered arcane words and a shriek sounded
by Pariah's side. Pariah winced, though the magic didn't hurt her, but then was knocked off her feet
again as a second minotaur charged into her from behind. This one knocked the breath out of her
and she was stunned for a moment.

Lythienne and Rowan both moved up to protect Pariah as she struggled to her feet, trying to avoid
getting the foul water in her mouth or eyes. Her icy armor was gone, but she knew it had injured
the two enormous beasts. "Talona's tits," she said through gritted teeth as a third minotaur came out
of the portal. It charged at them, head down, but most of the group was already blocked by its
companions so instead it charged past Ryland towards the spellcasters. He was too busy blocking a
minotaur's axe to try to stop the charging monster. Pariah turned to see it slam into Rowan and
knock her to the ground, Farima looking panicked behind her.

Pariah was torn but then as she clumsily parried the blow of an axe with the guard of her rapier, her
hand aching with the force of the blow, she knew she couldn't disengage just yet. She pressed the
attack and managed to wound one of the beasts, though her head was spinning enough that she
wasn't sure if it was the first or the second. Just then, Ryland managed to plunge his shortsword
into the massive chest muscles of the other minotaur, penetrating nearly to the hilt and barely
managing to rip the blade out before the beast collapsed.

Pariah used this opportunity to shift her position, getting an eye on Rowan even though it put her
back to the portal again. She saw the third minotaur rear back as coins slashed at its face. Rowan
regained her feet and said, "Will luck allow you to strike the real me?" as her form shimmered and
split into four identical versions of herself that moved to surround the creature.

A bolt of lighting shot out from Farima's staff, arced over the crowd of Rowans and lit up the
minotaur who staggered as waves of electricity washed over its body. It struck recklessly at the
Rowans, but it couldn't seem to decide which one to hit and its blow went wide. Ryland backed
away from the minotaur he was fighting in order to attack the one threatening Rowan. Past all of
them, Pariah could see that Lulu was still fighting with some creature, stabbing at it with her tusks.

Pariah, Lythienne and the soldier continued to hack at the other minotaur. Enraged, it launched a
brutal sideways blow at Pariah. She jumped back while again parrying with the rapier guard, but
the strength of the blow overwhelmed her, her blade slipped aside and the axe crashed into her
breastplate. She had barely recovered her breath from the last hit and now her lungs emptied again.

The soldier had continued to rave at the minotaur and attack it with his sword, but then Pariah saw
his expression change as he switched to the guttural language. His eyes darted around and he
slashed at Lythienne. The elf was caught by surprise, not expecting at attack from him, and the
blade left a shallow cut in her arm.

Lythienne face twisted with fury. She abandoned her attack on the minotaur and directed a whirling
storm of blows at the soldier, hitting him over and over with tanto, fist and foot. Pariah was
suddenly the only one facing the minotaur in front of her. His axe was just too big to parry
effectively so she pressed the attack as best she could. It was hurt, and she hoped she could down it
soon as her exhaustion started to build.

The soldier switched back to the melodic language. He dropped his sword and, fear on his face,
held out his empty hands while he babbled at Lythienne. Pariah didn't know the language, but she
knew begging for one's life when she saw it. His plea didn't stop Lythienne, who took advantage of
his dropped defenses to sweep his legs and then, after he fell, to stomp down with a violent kick to
his throat. He let out a choking gurgle and he stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Although disturbed by what had just happened, Pariah forced herself to focus on the battle at hand.
She finally managed a killing blow and felt relieved by the influx of dark energy from the
minotaur. Ryland finished his opponent at about the same time, and then Lulu yelled, "Die,
Jezebel!" as she fatally gored the flying creature with a tusk.

Pariah turned towards the portal but it seemed quiet. The dark energy swirled less intensely than
before, at least for the moment.

"What have you done?" Farima asked accusingly. Pariah turned, defensive words rising to her lips,
but realized Farima was talking to Lythienne.

"What do you mean?" Lythienne asked in confusion.

"That man was surrendering," she said, pointing to his body, "and you killed him even after he had
dropped his weapon."

"He attacked me," Lythienne said. "He had gone mad and was obviously going to attack us again
once his insanity swung back."

"We might have been able to save him from his madness," Farima insisted. "He was an innocent
victim of the corruption in this place". Her eyes narrowed on Lythienne's blade, still held bare in
her hand, and still etched with the dark pattern it had picked up after the battle in the crypt. "Let me
see that," she said, reaching out for it.

"No!" Lythienne said sharply, jerking it away. "It's mine."

"I am not going to steal it," Farima said in exasperation. "I just want to examine it."

"Why?" Lythienne asked, still holding the weapon away from the other woman.

Farima took a breath and tried to calm herself. "Your behavior has changed recently. At first I
thought it was this place, but now I think it might be that weapon."

"No," Lythienne said sharply, striking a more aggressive stance. "You just want to take it for
yourself."

"That is not true," Farima said hotly.

Pariah stepped in. "All right, let's all take a breath here. Lythienne, she's not wrong. Something is
different. We are just worried about you."

"I'm fine," the elf said defensively.

Pariah said, "Farima, could you just look at it and not touch it? Lythienne, would that be all right?"

Farima said, "Well, I suppose that would provide some information."

Lythienne looked suspiciously between the two women but then grudgingly nodded. She held the
tanto out, though she was still tense and clearly ready to strike out at any provocation.

Farima leaned forward to study the blade intently, and then said, "Flip it over, please." She studied
the other side and then straightened up looking thoughtful. After a moment she said, "That pattern
on the blade does not seem random. The shape of it is familiar somehow, and does seem to hint at
something magical." She frowned. "I know it appeared after you killed that white devil, but I do
not know what kind of devil it was. I am concerned that the weapon might have absorbed some
kind of infernal essence."

"That's nonsense," Lythienne said. "I'm not going to give up my weapon."

"Could you maybe try fighting without it?" Pariah asked. "You were doing that when we first met.
Take the silver dagger back from Rowan and see if there is a change."

"No!" Lythienne said, getting angry. "There is nothing wrong with this sword. I don't know why
you are all so obsessed with it. I think this paranoia shows that you are the ones being affected by
this plane." She said with finality, "We are done talking about this."

Pariah was concerned but was starting to realize that this wasn't the best place to pursue the issue.
She was trying to think of a way to change the subject when Rowan said, "Is anyone else
concerned that Lulu just claimed she saw Jezebel?"

Pariah stopped, her mouth open to speak. It took her a moment to remember that Jezebel was
Sylvira's familiar. She thought about the battle and remembered what Lulu had yelled. "Lulu?" she
asked the hollyphant hovering nearby. "Is that true?"

"I guess," Lulu said unsurely. "She's over there." She pointed down the hall with her trunk.

They all went over to examine the body but there was nothing other than a dark stain. Pariah said,
"She might have had a message from Sylvira. You shouldn't have attacked her."

"I didn't!" she said defensively. "It attacked me. It suddenly appeared in front of me, tried to scare
me and then it bit me! I had to kill it." Pariah saw that Lulu had a bite mark on her shoulder.

Pariah was puzzled by Lulu's story. "Are you sure it was Jezebel?"

"I don't know," Lulu pouted. "Those stupid demons all look alike." After a moment, she said,
"Maybe not. It was purple. Yucky Jezebel is green." Pariah felt a little relief that this had probably
just been some random demon rather than an attempt to contact them.

Ryland asked, "Is that what we came for?"

She turned and saw he was still standing over the man, pointing at the crown on his head with his
longsword. They returned to the room and stood around the body.

"I suppose it is," said Farima.

"I'm not sure we should touch it," Rowan said.

"It does seem that likely that that was what drove the man mad," Lythienne added. "He seemed to
be trying to pull it off."

Farima said, "We must retrieve it one way or another."

"Wrap it in a cloth?" Pariah suggested, and they agreed.

Farima reached into her satchel and retrieved a light blanket. She threw it over the crown and
reached down to pick up the bundle. Pariah wondered if the helm would come off since the man
had not been able to remove it, but Farima had no trouble. She wrapped it tightly, careful not to
touch it, and put it in her satchel.

Pariah searched the bodies of the soldiers. She looked up to see Farima's disapproving look. Pariah
said, "I'm just looking for things that can help us, like healing potions."

Farima pursed her lips, and then said, "Very well, but only things like healing potions." She started
hesitantly searching the man who had been wearing the crown.

Pariah looked over at the minotaur bodies. "So why didn't they disappear? Aren't they demons?"

"I suppose not," said Farima. "They were created by Baphomet, but apparently are not actually
fiends."

Pariah discovered two empty potion vials but no full ones. She also found three leather tubes stuck
into the belt of one Elturel soldier who wore a pendant of Torm. She opened one and found a soggy
scroll inside. She unrolled it and the ink had not run despite the dampness. She started reading it.

"What have you found?" Farima asked.

"I don't know," she said. "The writing style is odd, but I guess it's a prayer asking Torm to grant the
ability to understand someone speaking another language."
She handed it over to Farima and then looked at the other scrolls. One was a prayer to dismiss a
spell, and the last seemed to be a prayer of healing but for some reason she had trouble following
the words.

"Yes," Farima was saying, still looking at the first scroll. "Prayers inscribed in this way can be
used as a sort of portable, one-use spell by priests."

Pariah handed over the other two scrolls. "So they can be used only by priests?"

"No," Farima said slowly. "I have studied these kinds of holy writings so I believe I might be able
to complete these prayers, but probably Rowan would be able to use them best."

Rowan took one of the scrolls and looked it over. "Yes, I've seen these kinds of prayers."

"And it doesn't matter that they are prayers to Torm?" Pariah asked.

Rowan shrugged. "Tymora isn't a jealous god. She wouldn't mind me asking for help from Torm.
If it was a prayer to Beshaba or Bane, she'd be angry, but not Torm."

"So Rowan should hold onto these?" Pariah asked the others. Nobody had any objection so Rowan
stowed them in her satchel.

None of the other bodies had anything useful. At Ryland's suggestions they looked for identity
tags, but they found none. Presumably it was only the Hellriders who wore them.

"Let's take a rest so I can bind wounds," Rowan suggested.

"With that here?" Ryland asked, pointing to the portal. He and Lythienne had been watching it
while the others had examined the bodies.

Lythienne said, "Maybe we can go outside and close the door. Jam it shut. At least it will give us a
little warning if something comes out. We've been through the rest of the ossuary and it seemed
clear."

"Except for not-Jezebel," Lulu said.

"True," Lythienne nodded. "Be alert for invisible creatures, but I still think we'll be better off
outside the room."

There were stumped on how to block the door, but eventually Pariah used her hand axe to chop the
haft off one of the minotaur's axes. Then they went outside, closed the door, and shoved the head
of the large axe under the door to jam it shut. That would hold for a little bit.

They decided to head back down the hall to the room with the cushions. Rowan explained it was a
meditation room where priests would pray to help them deal with the dark nature of ministering to
the dead. It was a comfortable place to rest while Rowan attended to their wounds, praying and
applying bandages.

Pariah took the opportunity to look over the book she had taken from Gideon's room. She didn't
have time to read it cover to cover but she skimmed over it, looking for anything that might give
them an idea whether he could be trusted or not. It was broken into three sections, all written in the
same careful hand. The first described a series of visions sent to him by "a divinity beyond
divinity". The second was a series of conversations between him and someone he identified as the
Woman in White. The third was his philosophical ruminations and conclusions.
She found the book enthralling. It pulled her in and her eyes flew across the words written there. It
was a fascinating glimpse into the mind of a man who had changed over the course of the writing.
The central theme was about the evil of demons, how they were the only true threat to all of
creation. Their malevolence far exceeded that of evil mortals or even devils, for they wanted
nothing less than the destruction or corruption of all. She ground her teeth as she read detailed
descriptions of their wicked acts, and the way they spread like a foul disease across the planes.
Anger rose in her as she came to understand that they--

"Pariah!" Rowan shouted, snapping her fingers in front of the tiefling's face.

Pariah jerked her head up. "What?" she barked back, anger flaring as her reading was interrupted.

"Are you all right?"

Pariah was dazed as she looked around to see the others watching her, concern on their faces.
"Yeah," she growled, not sure why she was so irritated. "Why?"

"I called your name several times," Rowan said, her face a mask of concern. "You didn't answer."

Pariah felt the anger, wanted to tell the other woman to leave her alone to her reading, but as her
eyes darted around the room she saw Lythienne and thought about how the other woman had
changed since they had arrived. She looked at the emotions in herself and knew they weren't hers.

She flung the book away from her, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her anger. This seemed
to worry the others even more. Pariah forced a smile and said, "There I go throwing books again."
Nobody seemed amused. She rubbed her face and felt the anger subsiding. "Sorry," she said.
"Something about that book."

Farima walked over the book and looked down at it. "What is this?"

"It's Gideon's journal," Pariah said. "I stole it. I wanted to know if we could trust him."

Farima shot her a frown, and then asked, "And can we?"

Pariah tried to sift through the information in her brain. "No." She stood and went to pick up the
book.

"Are you sure-" Rowan started.

Pariah put up a hand to stop her. "I just want to read you a few passages. Slap me if I start raving
like that other guy." As she flipped to find the relevant pages, she explained, "The book is mostly
about his visions and about this woman he spoke to. He never called her anything but the Woman
in White. She was like a student, but later it's like she was teaching him." She went back to the
book and said, "Here. Here's one conversation they had." She read aloud.

The Woman: Tell me, O Master, of what is the greatest evil.

Gideon: It is that of the Abyss. It is the teemless horde of chaos which seeks to rip
down civilization.

The Woman: And why should civilization be not destroyed?

Gideon: Civilization is that which gives life meaning. It is the font of morality and
thought. Of art and of science.
Pariah felt the anger rising in her again and stopped. She flipped to another place in the book. "Um,
and then he also talks about the gods' role in fighting them. But I think he might be quoting her,
because she talked about that too. Like this."

It is the gods’ place to stand between Man and Chaos. It is their aegis which is their
ultimate purpose, for behind their shield we create greatness and dedicate it to their
honor.

She struggled with the word "aegis", not sure what it meant or how to pronounce it, and she hoped
they understood it. "Then in this part he talks about a vision he had."

There I beheld her. Her beauty was so great it seemed to burn my eyes. And yet
through my blindness I could see her with greater clarity than any other sight that I
have ever beheld.

Two great wings of white she had. And a sword of celestial steel so sharp that I could
hear the hum of its edge. A weapon made to cleave the division between soul and
mind.

But then I saw this essence of perfection cast away her sword. Her wings turned black.
Her eyes turned to pits of fire. And a great and terrible purpose furrowed her brow.

Pariah looked up at them, a strange anxiety building in her. Her words quickened as she said, "I
thought this might be Zariel, appearing to him like she did to Ryland. Later he wrote that this
Woman in White claimed to have had a similar vision, and she was the one who said it was
definitely Zariel. But I think maybe the Woman in White was Zariel because of conversations like
this one."

Gideon: But why should she have turned from the light?

The Woman: She turned from the light because it blinded her.

Gideon: Does not the light let us see?

The Woman: That is the lie of the light. We think only of what it illuminates, but not of
what it conceals from us.

"Then, towards the end, he starts raving about something he called the Great Blindness or the Great
Lie." She stole a glance at Rowan. "The lie is that the gods protect us from chaos." She read
another passage.

… but it is not so! Helm? Torm? Tyr? Lathander? None of them battle the Abyss. They
claim the glory of that war, but shed no blood in it!

This is why Zariel turned from Heaven. She saw the truth of her holy purpose; the
Great Need to stand against Chaos. And she saw that her “holy” power was powerless
because her gods had willed it so. Thus she allied herself with Hell! For it is Hell who
fights chaos! It is Hell which sacrifices itself in the Blood War! Hell which fights
eternal so that we poor mortals may eke out a few years of freedom upon the mortal
plane!

Pariah's hands were shaking now and it was hard to read from the book. Her breath quickened until
she was barely able to speak, but she had to finish. "So, um, Zariel is like a symbol of sacrifice and
surface. He goes on and on about how great she is, and how her choice was a service to the mortal
races and the mortal realms."
 Without her, all would become Chaos. And all those who do not stand with her are
servants and abettors of Chaos, though they know it not.

She let the book fall from her quivering hands. "There's more but that's most of it. I need to stop
reading it now and sit down over there. Don't look at it. The words get in your brain in a bad way. I
need to just go over there and sit down and rest and not talk for a while."

Pariah walked into a corner, leaned her back against the wall and slid down to the floor. She
wrapped her tail around her knees, put her hands over her ears, and closed her eyes to try to calm
the thoughts in her head. She felt someone sit next to her and an arm go around her as she shut out
the world.

Chapter End Notes

First, I have good news: I'm going back to weekly posting. With things slowing
down at work, I've been able to write more steadily and pull ahead to a comfortable
place. So from now on, I'll post every Friday morning. I'm hoping I can continue this
schedule for the rest of the story.

The entries from Gideon's journal were actually written by Justin Alexander, creator of
the Alexandrian Remix, and are used with his permission -- thank you, Justin! The
journal entries themselves can be found on the Grand Cemetery page.

What's interesting is that, before I ever even hear of the remix, I had already created
Rowan's crisis of faith, rooted not just in the sexual assault but framed in the bigger
problem of the gods not intervening against evil. I like how it ends up fitting in
perfectly with the stuff Justin has written.

After this battle, I realized that I've been ignoring two important things.

First, I forgot about all of Lythienne's level 5 monk stuff, most notably 2 attacks/turn
and her Stunning Strike. Those are both huge boosts. I only realized my mistake
because I had started watching Campaign 2 of Critical Role, and when Beau got level
5 she got those abilities.

Second, Pariah should be using a shield. She has a fighter level with the Duelist style,
which forbids a weapon in the off hand, but not a shield (confirmed by WotC multiple
times). I think maybe I had her not use a shield because of somatic components, but
PHB allows somatic gestures in a hand holding a focus, and I use the house rule from
Rick's Guide to Fun that allows a Pact of the Blade weapon to be a focus. Since she's
one of the front line, that +2 would be helpful
 A Lost Priest
Chapter Summary

Struggling after physical and psychological challenges, the group now must decide
how to deal with the undead priest, Gideon. They are unsure of his allegiance, and of
their own ability to fight the dozens of undead creatures who might be turned against
them.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah was aware of a conversation going on, but couldn't hear anything with her ears covered. She
concentrated on relaxing and calming her thoughts. She had reached a comfortable place inside, but
knew she couldn't stay in this safe cocoon forever. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, lowered her
hands and raised her head.

Rowan was seated next to her, a comforting arm around her shoulder. Everyone stopped talking
and stared at her. With a self-conscious snort, Pariah said, "It's okay. The crazy is gone. Sorry
about that."

"Don't apologize," Rowan said. "We understand."

"She is correct," Farima said. "And we are grateful for the information you uncovered. We were, in
fact, discussing what our next move is going to be."

Pariah inhaled and then blew out a breath. "OK, get me caught up."

"Regarding the helm," Farima began, adopting a lecturing tone, "I suspect that the chamber we
were in, which used to be a channel to Torm, has been corrupted and become a channel to the
Abyss. From what the man was saying, and from the presence of those beasts, I assume it is a
channel specifically to the demon lord Baphomet. The helm seems to channel both Torm and
Baphomet, like driving a cart with two people each pulling the reins in different directions. I think
we will have to bring the helm back to the cathedral, hoping that Rowan and Acolyte Jynks can
somehow expel Baphomet from it to restore its link to Torm only."

Rowan said, "Evyan can help, too."

"Who?" Farima asked in confusion.

"Evyan," Rowan repeated. "The priest we rescued."

"Oh, I see. I guess we never heard her name. Yes, she would be a great help in performing this
prayer."

Lythienne said, "Which leads us to the issue of Gideon. Will he let us take it?"

"No," Pariah said emphatically. "There was more in that book than I was able to tell you. He is an
enemy of the demons, but he is also an enemy of the gods. Either way, he's not going to let us have
something that might be a weapon against him and his forces."
"Yeah," Rowan sighed. "That's the conclusion we came to as well."

Ryland said gloomily, "But he's got us trapped down here. Escape means facing him and his army
of undead."

"Maybe not," Pariah said. "I was focused mostly on his comments with Zariel-" she began.

Lulu interjected firmly, "We don't know it was Zariel."

There was a moment of silence, and then Lythienne said, "Lulu, we talked about this."

"I know," she said sadly. "But she's my friend."

"She was your friend," Lythienne said. "She's not the same person."

"I can get her back," Lulu insisted. "I know it."

Pariah didn't see this conversation going anywhere useful, so she interjected, "Regardless, my point
was that I was reading a bit about his early efforts to raise the dead. There was a lot of raving about
it being okay to use necromancy because it was fighting the demons and they were terrible and
blah, blah, blah. But he talked about independence. That the undead are still kind of unformed,
more mindless than usual, and he is controlling them directly. Gideon is the key. We kill him, and I
think we'll be safe."

Pariah detected a sense of discomfort. "If we kill him," Rowan said softly.

Pariah turned to her in confusion. Rowan glanced significantly at Farima. Pariah looked at the
Calishite and saw the woman was undecided. Farima said, "He was a priest of Lathander. That
deserves a level of respect. I am uncomfortable taking arms up against him."

"And do you think Lathander would approve of what he has done?" Rowan asked gently.

Farima stammered for a moment, and then reluctantly said, "No. In point of fact, the undead are the
antithesis of what he represents. It is sacrilege of the highest order."

"He is not who he was. Better to free him from this curse."

Farima was still conflicted. "I do not wish to raise a hand against a priest of Lathander, corrupt or
otherwise."

Pariah said, "Then don't." The others turned to her. She continued, "Direct your attacks against
those big skeletons that will be with him. The rest of us can take care of Gideon. Will that work for
you?"

Farima looked down at the ground. "Yes, I suppose that will be satisfactory." She looked back up.
"But we must not attack him without reason. We have to give him the chance to show he is still
true to his faith."

There was a heavy silence in the room, broken when Lythienne said, "That will give him a chance
to ambush us."

"I am resolved in this matter," Farima said firmly. "We must not strike the first blow."

Nobody seemed happy with that, but Pariah didn't have the energy to debate her. "Fine," she
sighed. "We'll talk to him."
Pariah looked down at herself and was surprised to see that her wounds had been bandaged. She
had really been out of it. She said, "Well, then, if we are all rested, shall we go?"

"Not yet," Farima said, kneeling on one of the cushions. "This room seems uncorrupted. The Hells
above and the Abyss below, but this room still seems to hold the divinity of the gods. I would like
to pray. And the rest of you might want to do the same."

The room didn't have the same aura of calm that Pariah had felt in the floating shrine, but she
agreed there was a sense of normalcy here that had been missing since they had arrived in Avernus.
Remaining seated, she put her chin on her knees and closed her eyes to pray.

She wasn't sure who to pray to. Tymora had been her primary worship, and really still was, but she
also had never gotten over the anger at her over what had happened to Rowan and the rest of them
in her temple. Torm seemed obvious considering where she was, but she'd found his priests to be
regimented and judgmental. She thought about the other gods represented in Gideon's quarters.
Helm's and Tyr's priests were just as bad as Torm's, which left only Lathander.

There was a shrine to Lathander in Twin Songs, near where she grew up. There wasn't much
worship there, in fact she wondered if the old priest she saw there now and then was the only one
in all of Baldur's Gate. She didn't know any official prayers, but then she was more of a "talk to the
gods like they are people" kind of worshipper. She brought to mind an image of a road leading into
the sunrise, the symbol of Lathander.

I'm not sure what I'm asking from you, she thought to herself. I can't imagine you are happy with
what's happening here, with all the undead. And it's being done by one of your priests, though I'm
pretty sure he's been misled by Zariel. The devils do that. So maybe you could help us fight him,
fight the undead. Survive this so we can get this helmet back to the cathedral, and maybe save
these people who worship you. I mean I don't understand why the gods don't get involved in this
kind of thing, but I'd think you would want us to succeed with what we are doing. So, you know, if
you could bless us or whatever you do, that's going to be good for everyone.

She would like to say she felt a glowing warmth inside her heart or something ridiculous like that,
but mostly she just felt empty and...well, scared now that she thought about it. She'd pretty much
been scared since the moment they arrived, but it was such a constant feeling that she didn't even
notice it anymore. If anything, she felt a little worse than she had before her prayer, a little more
empty, more alone.

Pariah opened her eyes. Rowan and Farima were still deep in prayer. Lythienne and Ryland were
finished, or maybe hadn't started. It occurred to Pariah that she had no idea what Lythienne's faith
was, not that it was any of her business. She settled back against the wall to wait for them to finish.

Thoughts continued to rustle in her head, and she looked around the room for something to distract
herself. She looked at the mosaic and forced herself to study it, to focus her mind on every tile. The
texture of the tiles seemed odd so she stood and walked over to examine them more closely. She
reached out to touch one and realized it was made of painted bone. That made sense in an ossuary,
she guessed, though it seemed a little disrespectful of the dead. She wouldn't want her bones
decorating a temple wall. Maybe they were animal bones.

She cocked her head. There was an imperfection in the structure, a slight misalignment that she
wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been looking closely. She leaned in and pushed on the mosaic.
A piece of it gave way, pivoting to reveal a small hidden chamber that held an ornate case of
polished wood with ivory inlay. Pariah reached in and retrieved the box and saw it was
emblazoned with the emblems of the four gods.
"What are you doing?" barked Farima from right behind her.

Pariah jumped, nearly dropping the box. "Talona's tits," she snapped, whirling to face the other
woman. "Don't sneak up on me like that. I'm just looking."

"This isn't a shop," Farima said with disapproval. "Put it back."

"Will you relax? We're looking for holy relics. I found something hidden. Maybe it's another relic."

"Really?" she said skeptically. "And that's all you were doing?"

"Yes!" Pariah said defensively, feeling her anger rise.

"Farima," Lythienne said gently. "Let's not jump to conclusions." The others had gathered around
the two arguing women.

Rowan nodded. "I think Pariah has done more than enough to have earned our trust."

Farima pursed her lips, struggling emotions crossing her face.

Pariah took a breath to calm herself. "Look, yes, I'm a thief. I've never hidden that. But I have my
rules. I don't steal jewelry because I'm not going to risk stealing someone's wedding ring or a
necklace their grandmother left them on her death bed. I don't steal copper from a beggars bowl.
And I don't steal from temples, even the ones that put out gold candlesticks when surrounded by
poverty."

Farima's eyes narrowed. "You stole from that priest's body."

"What priest?" Pariah asked in confusion. Then, as realization dawned, "You mean the rapist priest
of Bane who we had just murdered? Well, yeah, he fell into my range of acceptable targets."

Farima was still hesitating. Hoping to lighten the mood, Pariah said, "Besides, like you said earlier,
what good is gold going to do anybody in Hell?"

Farima's demeanor calmed. "Very well," she admitted. "My apologies. Perhaps I should not have
rushed to judgment like that."

"It's fine," Pariah said. It really wasn't fine, but she said, "We're all on edge here."

"So, what is the box?" Farima asked.

Pariah looked it over. "It's locked," she said. "I could try..." She had been about to suggest picking
it when she remembered something. "Rowan! What about that key you got?"

"Oh, come on," Lythienne said. "Really? Some random devil sells us a key and we need it later the
same day?"

Pariah shrugged. "Doesn't hurt to try."

Rowan fished the key out of her belt pouch and inserted it into the lock. She twisted it and the lock
clicked.

"That's absurd," Lythienne said with a laugh. "I would refuse to tell a story with such a coincidence
in it."

Pariah said to Rowan, "I guess Lady Luck's fortune is on our side after all."
Rowan smirked as she opened the lid of the box.

A pleasant odor tickled Pariah's nose before she even saw what was inside. The interior of the box
was lined with silk, and carefully placed among the folds of silk were several sticks of incense,
small bundles of dried herbs, and vials of oil. In the middle of all of this was a roll of vellum.
Rowan reached in to take the scroll and unroll it. Pariah looked over her shoulder to see elaborate
script written in gold-flecked ink. It was another prayer and seemed to be some kind of protection.

"Oh my," said Rowan breathlessly. "This is...this is an amazing find."

"What is it?" Farima asked, moving to read over Rowan's other shoulder.

"It's a prayer of consecration. It can...see, here, it can ward an area against fiends and undead." Her
voice grew excited. "This is a tremendously powerful and complicated ritual. It would take about a
day, but could be used to create a permanent, unassailable sanctuary in the High Hall. Honestly,
this might be more valuable to them then the helm."

"Why is it here?" asked Ryland. "Why didn't they create a sanctuary like that before? I mean even
before Elturel came here?"

"Well, as I said it's a very long ritual," Rowan opined. "Plus the ritual material included with it are
very expensive. I suppose they were saving it for an emergency, and then when the emergency
happened, it happened too fast to use this."

"It was hidden away," Pariah said. "Maybe they forgot it was even there."

"I suppose that's possible," Rowan admitted.

"So this is a valuable find, right Farima?" Lythienne teased.

Farima looked uncomfortable. "I have already apologized," she said firmly, and then she added,
"But, yes, it is a valuable find. Pariah, I apologize again for misjudging your actions."

"It's fine," Pariah said again, and this time it was fine. Farima's apology sounded much more
genuine. "I think we are all going to have to be patient with each other until we get back home."

Rowan put the scroll back in the box, closed and locked it, and put it into her satchel. "It is even
more important that we get back to the High Hall safely," she said. "And I don't think Gideon is
going to allow that."

"I cannot..." Farima began.

"I know," Rowan said. "And I understand. We'll talk to him, but cautiously. But if he refuses to let
us leave, we'll have to take action."

Farima massaged her fingers nervously. "Yes," she said. "I agree."

"And if I'm wrong about the undead," Pariah said, "if they don't freeze up when he dies, then we
just run like fuck. I don't think we can fight them all."

Rowan nodded. "If necessary, I think I can clear a path through them. But I agree: if it goes bad
then we run through the graveyard and hope they don't follow. Or at least not very fast."

They made their way through the ossuary back to the entrance, carefully alert in case of any other
quasit attacks, but they arrived without incident. Farima pushed to the front of the group to climb
the stairs to the door first, and that was fine with Pariah. Let her do the talking. However, before
Farima reached the door, Pariah pulled the icy energy into her armor. She would stand back while
Farima negotiated, but she was going to be ready when battle was joined.

Lythienne apparently had the same idea, because she came up behind Pariah and whispered,
"Pariah hopes for peace but steels herself for the battle ahead." Pariah felt her resolve strengthen as
the magic of the words took hold inside her.

Farima rapped on the door loudly with her staff. "Master Lightward," she called out. "We have
returned. Could you unlock the door please?"

They waited in silence. Farima looked back at the others, worry on her face. She pulled her staff
back to knock again but then they heard the lock turning. The door opened and Gideon stood in the
opening, looking them over with a critical eye. He looked past her to the rest of them and then back
to Farima. "Have you recovered what you sought?" he asked.

"We have," she acknowledged "And you are correct; there is some kind of portal by the meditation
pool. More minotaurs came through but we were able to defeat them. We wedged the door shut but
I fear it will not hold long should another assault be launched. May we come in?"

Gideon stared at her silently for a long time, and then moved out of the doorway wordlessly.
Farima looked uncertainly at the rest of the group and then enter the chamber, the others close on
her heels. The huge minotaur skeletons still stood in the curtained openings, blocking the other
exits. Gideon closed and locked the door as the last of them passed through. He went to the center
of the room and then turned to face them, his hand outstretched. "The helm is a holy relic. You will
release it into my care."

Farima hesitated. "Master Lightward, the helm has been cursed in some way by demonic energy.
We would like to remove it to the High Hall to allow the priest there to see if she can purify it."

"I am the only priest needed," he said in a dangerous tone. "I will not leave such a powerful item in
the hands of strangers. Give me the artifact immediately."

Pariah's weapon was sheathed and her hand itched to draw it, but she wasn't going to make the first
move. She was aware that Farima, the most vulnerable of the group, was also currently the most
exposed. Pariah stepped forward. "Master Lightward," she said with a smile. "I understand why
you are worried and we mean no disrespect." She put her hand on Farima's arm, gently trying to
pull her back but Farima resisted.

Farima said, "Please, allow us to take the helm. It seems the altar of Torm in the cathedral in the
High Hall is the best place to try to remove this curse, would you not agree?"

"I would not," he said, eyes narrowing. The minotaur skeletons, which had been standing idle,
simultaneously raised their axes into a ready position.

Pariah tugged on Farima's arm with a bit more force, but the woman stubbornly continued to stand
in front of Gideon. Farima said, her voice growing more desperate, "You could accompany us to
the hall. You could perform the cleansing ceremony with the assistance of the priest there."

"I will not ask again," Gideon said, glaring into Farima's eyes. "Give me the helm or I will take it
from you."

Pariah said, "Farima, we've tried."

"Yes," Farima said with regret. "Do what you need to do."
Pariah reached out and her sword appeared in her hand. Gideon's face twisted with anger as the
minotaur skeletons rumbled forward. Pariah pulled Farima back, but not before Gideon was able to
punch Farima hard right at the base of her breastbone. As she doubled over with a grunt, he
smashed an elbow into her temple. He was so focused on punishing her that he didn't defend
against Pariah, who plunged the rapier into his side. He had no armor or other protection. Pariah
shoved him back as Farima stumbled away from him.

Lythienne moved to intercept the skeleton minotaur coming from Pariah's left, knocking it off its
feet. Pariah could hear its bones crack as Lythienne slammed powerful blows into its prone form.
Ryland moved to engage the one on the right, depending on brute force rather than finesse to block
its advance. The last skeleton charged forward towards Pariah but Gideon's presence blocked him
from trying to gore her.

Pariah's ears rang as a powerful trumpeting sound echoed through the chamber. Sparkling energy
swept past Gideon and the skeleton minotaur. Gideon cried out as his dead flesh burned,
screaming, "Traitorous celestial! You would dare strike against an enemy of the Abyss?"

Pariah struggled to engage both Gideon and the massive skeleton before her, trying to remain on
the defensive but strike as openings presented. Lulu fluttered around them both, but with her main
attack spent she was little more than a distraction. Pariah heard Rowan call out from behind her, "If
any god still has presence in this shrine, let your divine energy protect us from the evil that has
infested it." Pariah watched as shimmering motes seemed to leech out of the walls and rush around
them. Soon, the room was filled with a cyclone of shining energy, searing the bones of the
skeletons and the flesh of Gideon.

"Priest of the betrayer gods," Gideon snarled at Rowan. "Die before the might of the true defenders
of order." Pariah felt dark energy flow past her to strike at Rowan, but couldn't divert her attention
to be sure the other woman was all right.

Lythienne turned away from the one skeleton, now in pieces on the floor, and turned her attention
to the one by Pariah. Pariah also tried to focus her attacks on it, but that meant that Gideon
managed to land a powerful punch to her abdomen. The cold in her armor rushed over him and she
called up even more dark power to surround him in a flurry of freezing wind.

The skeleton in front of her finally succumbed to the attacks from Lythienne, Pariah, and the
burning radiance surrounding Rowan. However, another massive minotaur skeleton tore through
the curtained opening behind it. She heard the crunch of glass on the ground, and glanced over to
see yet another one coming in through one of the broken windows. "We need to get out of here!"
she said.

"How?" Ryland asked, still trading blows with the skeleton he had engaged.

Lythienne cut a deep wound across Gideon's chest with the silver tanto. He staggered back, opened
his mouth to say something, but then the radiance burned the last of his flesh away and his
blackened bones fell to the ground. "This way," Lythienne said, moving up to engage the skeleton
who had just come through the main entrance. "We have to get to the door."

Familiar bolts of energy shot across the room in front of Pariah, smashing the bones of the skeleton
that Ryland was fighting, causing it to collapse in a pile. Pariah saw Farima duck back behind a
doorway, Lulu fluttering nervously around her. Pariah was glad to see the other woman was safe
for the moment.

Ryland, possibly caught up in the emotions of battle, rushed to engage the minotaur skeleton
coming through the window. Bones splintered under the force of the blows from his swords, but
his charge had taken him away from the main doors.

Pariah hesitated for a second, but decided that clearing the path to the door was the most important
priority. She moved ahead to help Lythienne with the skeleton blocking the way. She didn't
manage to hit it, and at one point saw its axe headed directly for her left side. She wasn't going to
be able to dodge and she reflexively put up an arm protected by chainmail and leather, hoping to at
least divert the blow. She was surprised as a sheet of ice suddenly appeared along her forearm. The
blade smashed into it and, although she felt the force of the blow vibrate through her arm, the blade
was diverted and did no damage. The ice sheet vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

Pariah fell into a defensive stance, confused by what had just happened, but Lythienne was not so
hesitant. She slashed and smashed this skeleton and, before its bones had clattered to the floor, was
already rushing ahead to the open main doors. Pariah looked over to see Ryland was still engaged.
"Ryland!" she shouted. "We have to go!" She fired a bolt of cold towards the skeleton as she
moved to join Lythienne.

Ryland backed towards them, still fighting the massive minotaur skeleton but unable to flee.
Rowan moved towards him to bring it within the storm of radiance around her. It quickly fell to
that, Ryland's swords and more energy bolts from Farima.

Pariah and Lythienne went through the door out onto the walkway outside. "Oh dear," said
Lythienne.

Pariah had been wrong. The undead had not just fallen down once Gideon was destroyed. A sea of
zombies and skeletons spread out before them. They were not stationary like before. Instead, they
milled about randomly. Slowly, though, the nearest of them seemed to be taking an interest in the
people who had just left the chapel, and the mob started to shift in their direction.

Movement caught Pariah's eye and she looked to the side. The strange shadows she had seen
shifting along the surface of the columns before were still there. As she watched, the shadows
moved away from the columns and took humanoid forms. The air was filled with sibilant noise,
like they were speaking in some language she didn't understand.

Light swarmed around them as Rowan moved to join them. The shadowy creatures glided towards
the group, but as they entered the radiant storm, they evaporated into black smoke. Pariah looked
behind her to see that everyone was accounted for. "Let's keep moving," she said nervously as she
turned to face the rotting horde that was gathering in their path.

Rowan stepped in front of her. She held her hands out before her, one flesh and one metal, and said,
"Clear a path of life that will guide us to safety." A pulse of radiant energy spread out from her, and
where it washed over the undead, they reared back in fear. The corpses turned and started to move
away, still shambling slowly.

She turned to the rest of them and said, "We should probably run."

Rowan led the way as they hurried down the path towards the gates of the cemetery. Most of the
undead shied away from them. Those that didn't turn away burned in the storm of radiance that still
swirled around them. The few that made it through were quickly cut down as they neared the
fleeing intruders. The group carved a path through the mob out to the city and hurried into the red-
lit streets of Elturel, still doggedly pursued by dozens of zombies.
Chapter End Notes

The scrolls on the body were from the module, though I changed "Remove Curse" into
"Dispel Magic" because Remove Curse was too convenient for...reasons. The scroll of
"Hallow" in the meditation chamber was not in the module. I added that as part of my
effort to sprinkle a few more reasonable magic items in their path.

I deliberately left Farima in a vulnerable position for RP; she was too stubborn to
retreat. She went from full health to 2 HP (Gideon got a crit) in one round. Her original
plan was to do a lightning bolt vs. Gideon and one of the minotaur skeletons, but at 2
HP I knew she had to disengage and run for cover. Since he got a crit, she got an
injury. She made the save so it should have been Level 0 (cosmetic, no game effect)
but I arbitrarily decided to make it a level 1 (-1 on CON saves, Dash is +50%
movement instead of +100% movement) since she's not on the front lines that often.

Rowan's whirling radiance was Spirit Guardians. Once the group went outside, I
stopped actually running the battle. The rest is just narrative since the things that are
left are pretty wimpy (shadows, specters, zombies, skeletons) so would do poorly
against Spirit Guardians and Rowan's Turn Undead.

Pariah's magical ice shield was a narrative way to handle her suddenly being able to
use a shield. I prefer the image of her fighting with her left hand empty, and this is just
a cool special effect.
 A Quiet Conversation
Chapter Summary

The party flees a mob of over a hundred undead creatures, but are slowed down by
Farima's injury. They must find a way to get the Helm of Torm's Sight back to the
High Hall.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah's eyes scanned the nearby structures as they moved quickly through the red-lit streets of
Elturel. She was trying to find a balance between moving fast enough to get away from the undead
horde but slow enough that they didn't run into ambushes. The occasional distant cracks of
lightning from the Companion combined with their own loud footfalls made it hard for her to
listen. She'd just have to trust to Tymora's good fortune to keep them safe.

"I think we need to stop," Rowan said from behind her.

Pariah took one last scan of the street ahead and turned to face the others. Lythienne was right
beside her, and Ryland was taking up the rear. In the middle, Farima leaned heavily on Rowan, her
hand pressed into her ribs and her face twisted with pain. Farima was clearly struggling, her breaths
shallow and fast. Lulu fluttered nervously beside her.

"I am fine," Farima panted. "We should continue."

"It looks like the horde from the cemetery has given up," Ryland said, looking behind.

"Rowan's right," said Pariah. "Let's stop and let her take a look at you." Nearby was an intact
bakery with a sign that read "Forbidden Delights" hanging over the front door, its windows
blocked by wooden shutters. Pariah pushed open the door and saw the interior had been ransacked.
She scanned the small shop to confirm that it was empty, waved the others inside, and then closed
and locked the door.

While the others got settled, Pariah looked through the debris but found nothing but broken baking
utensils and splintered furniture. Someone had obviously already looted the place and had left
nothing behind, not even a stale pastry. She found a clear spot and sat with her back against the
wall.

Rowan was examining Farima. "Deep breath," she said. Farima inhaled slightly and then winced.
Rowan frowned. "You might have a broken rib. I can wrap you up once we get back to the hall. For
now, try to avoid getting punched in the chest by undead priests."

Farima gave her a little smile and a snort of a laugh that made her wince. "I shall do my best," she
said.

"Anyone else hurt?" Rowan asked the room. The others shook their heads.

"Luckily, those things were slow," said Ryland, who was keeping watch on the street through a
shutter he had cracked open. "I'm sure getting hit with those axes would have been bad, but they
weren't too hard to avoid."

Pariah's brow furrowed as she remembered the battle. She threw up her arm as though blocking a
blow, and a sheet of ice flashed into existence along her forearm for an instant. She did it again
with the same result.

"Nice trick," said Lythienne.

"I guess so," Pariah said. "I was so focused on the wings that I didn't notice I had gotten this as
well. Or maybe I've been able to do that for a while but never tried." She shook her head. "It's
weird. I know my powers but I don't know what I know. I can get answers but only if I ask the
questions, and I don't know what questions to ask."

Rowan said, "For right now, let's all catch our breath. Then we can head out again and move more
slowly now that we aren't being chased."

Lythienne looked thoughtful. "Now that I think about it, we probably should have headed for the
Shieldhall. It was closer."

"Oh, good point," Pariah agreed. "Ryland, which is closer from here?"

He frowned as he considered the question. "I'm still having trouble navigating. It's hard to
recognize the city like this. If we're where I think we are, then the Shieldhall is closer, but not by
much. I agree it would have made sense to head there from the cemetery, though I'm not sure they
would appreciate us bringing a horde of undead down on them. But from here, it's probably just as
well to head back to the High Hall."

"Especially considering our need to cleanse the helmet," said Farima, still a little out of breath.
"The altar of Torm would be the ideal place to do that."

Pariah settled back against the wall. Her thoughts were starting to buzz in her head again and she
thought about pulling out her book to read to calm herself, but her eyes fell on Lulu. She needed to
have a conversation with the hollyphant and it would probably be better to have it here rather than
in the High Hall where others might overhear.

"Hey, Lulu," she said. "We should probably talk about something."

Lulu trotted over and sat in front of her. "About what?" she asked cheerfully.

Pariah thought about what to say but saw no reason to dance around it. "You know about Levistus,
don't you?"

Lulu hesitated and then said, "Well, yes. I heard you talking to him in the conference room. I heard
it in my head."

Pariah's brow furrowed and Lulu quickly added, "I know. Reading minds without permission isn't
nice. But I wasn't. I just heard it."

Pariah shook her head. "That's not what I was going to say. Though you're right; it's not. But we
should probably talk about it." She nodded towards the rest of the group, who were all listening
quietly. "None of them were happy when they heard the news, either. You probably have
questions."

Lulu looked away. "Are you evil?" she asked quietly.

Pariah couldn't help but laugh at how innocent and direct the question was. "No, I'm not," she
assured the hollyphant. "I'm pretty sure even Farima doesn't think I'm evil."

Indignantly, Farima said, "Of course I do not consider you evil. I have made every effort to try to
understand the decision you made."

Pariah grinned at her, trying to show she was just joking. She said, "Admit it. At first you thought I
might be just a little bit evil."

Farima looked uncomfortable. "No, not exactly. I didn't know what to make of you. And when we
first met, you did..." She trailed off.

Pariah felt her mood fade as she remembered. Gloomily she said, "When we first met, I did a
terribly evil thing."

Lythienne said, "No, not at all."

Rowan hedged, "Well, it was a complicated situation."

Ryland just looked confused. "Wait, what are we talking about?"

Pariah had forgotten that Ryland didn't know that part of the story. Well, it was out now so she
might as well own up to it. "I claimed a man's soul for Levistus," she said simply. Saying it out
loud made something twist uncomfortably inside her.

Ryland was stunned. "I thought you said you gave him your soul."

She nodded. "I did. I also gave him someone else's."

"You did nothing wrong," Lythienne said emphatically. "He was a horrible creature who deserves
everything that's coming to him."

"Maybe," Pariah shrugged. "But that's not for me to decide. And I didn't know that when I agreed.
He could have been a kind man. Hells, it could have been Rowan. I was still willing to sacrifice an
innocent stranger's soul for the sake of my friends."

"Are you sorry?" Lulu asked.

Pariah thought about the question. "Honestly, I don't know. I know I should say that I am, that I'd
take it back if I could. On the other hand it's easy to justify it knowing what he was. But I also can't
forget that taking it back means a dozen of my friends die."

"And are twelve lives worth more than one soul?"

Pariah said, "Again, I know the right answer is 'no'. We all die. Our lives are temporary. I didn't
really save them from anything, just delayed it. A soul is forever so is worth more than many lives.
But, and I'm trying to be honest with you here, it's still twelve lives I know vs. one soul I don't. I
shouldn't say that, but that's how I feel."

Rowan said, "Sacrifice two cities of strangers to save a city of friends." There was no judgment in
her tone.

It took Pariah a moment to remember that she was quoting Sylvira. "Yeah, I guess so. That's one of
the things that book I got from Little One talks about. How we view things from a distance. How
we view things up close. What we know in theory to be moral and correct, and what we do when it
comes to our own feelings and attachments."

Lulu said, "And what about Levistus? What does he want?"

"I don't know," Pariah admitted. "But I'm pretty sure he wants to stop what Zariel is doing. His
motives are selfish -- he doesn't want one of the other archdevils to gain more power than he has --
but he still wants to stop her."

A little anger crept into Lulu's voice. "So you are Zariel's enemy?"

Pariah knew she'd have to be careful here. "Zariel the devil? Yes, I want to stop her from stealing
innocent souls. Zariel the angel? Well, I don't know her. She's not here right now. Look, Lulu, I
know you've been her friend for a long time and it's hard for you to accept what she's done. But I
don't care who a person was. I don't care about a person's past, good or bad. I care about who a
person is right now, good or bad. Right now, Zariel is doing something terrible. Yes, I want to stop
her. And yes, I'm willing to work with someone else who wants to stop her. I just want to save the
people of Elturel who have done nothing wrong, who don't deserve to be here."

Lulu thought about what Pariah had said for a long time. "Do you want to kill her?"

Pariah wanted to laugh at how absurd the idea of her killing an archdevil was. "I want to stop her,"
she said. "If we can find a way to break the contract and free Elturel, then that would be fine."

"Oh," Lulu said.

"Let me ask you something," Pariah said. "If everything you've been told about Zariel and what she
has become is true, what are you going to do about it? If we find her and she asks you to be her
companion again, will you? Even if she's a devil?"

"But she's not like that," Lulu insisted. "I don't believe it."

Farima said, "Angels fall, Lulu. It has happened before."

"And devils rise," Lulu replied. "If she has fallen, then I'll just have to bring her up again. I won't
let anyone stop me! And I won't let anyone hurt her!"

"You didn't answer my question," Pariah prodded gently. "If she has fallen, and she wants you by
her side again, what would you do?" Lulu struggled with the question, and Pariah said, "You don't
have to answer now, but you might want to think about that because, if you insist on finding her,
you are going to have to face that choice eventually."

Ryland said, "It's been hard for me to accept too, Lulu. We worshipped her as a hero. They can tell
you that I didn't believe them at first, that I fought them on it. But I've been forced to accept the
truth. We have to deal with Zariel as she is right now, not as the hero she used to be."

Lythienne abruptly stood and exited the building into the street, closing the door hard behind her.
The group looked at each other in confusion and then Rowan said, "I'll go after her." She followed
her out the door, closing it more gently.

Pariah didn't know what that was all about but trusted Rowan to handle it, so she turned her
attention back to Lulu. Trying to keep her tone compassionate, she said, "Lulu, what if you have to
choose between helping her or helping the people of Elturel? Would you sacrifice all the people
here if that's what she wanted?"

"No," Lulu mumbled. "But it won't come to that. I know I can convince her she's wrong."
"And what if you can't?" Pariah pressed. "What if she's too far gone?"

Lulu got angry again. "And you think Levistus is better?"

"Oh, gods no," Pariah said. "He is literally evil given form, like any devil. He would gladly
sacrifice all the souls in Faerûn for his own gain."

"But you're willing to help him," she accused. "Take power from him."

"To help the people of Elturel, yes. To stop Zariel's plan, yes."

"He'll turn you evil," Lulu insisted. "Even if you aren't now, he'll make you do terrible things."

Pariah shrugged. "I'll just have to hold out, refuse to do things that I think will hurt others."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "He'll turn you eventually. Right, Farima?"

Pariah turned to Farima in surprise. The other woman looked uncomfortable. "Lulu," Farima
chastised the hollyphant.

"It's true! You said so!"

Pariah raised her eyebrows. "You did?"

Farima grimaced and shifted nervously. "Well, yes. We were discussing you the other day, your
fate." To Lulu she said pointedly, "That was meant to be a private conversation."

Lulu looked contrite and remained silent.

Farima continued, "But, yes, he will eventually corrupt you. He has eternity to do it. No mortal can
stand against that. You will eventually give in to his manipulations and your infernal heritage and
become a true devil."

Pariah thought about that. "Well, I guess that's a problem for future me. There's nothing I can do
about that right now."

Farima pursed her lips. "You should not be so flippant about the subject."

"I'm not," she shrugged. "I just literally can't do anything about it. I mean I take your warning
seriously, but it is what it is. I guess we'll just have to defeat Zariel, defeat Levistus, heck maybe
kick Asmodeus's ass as long as we're in the area."

Farima looked offended so Pariah laughed. "Come on, I'm just teasing. Look, if you know of a
solution, great. But for now, all I can do is deal with what's in front of me. For the moment, that's
getting back to High Hall."

Pariah didn't feel like debating the point with Farima so she turned back to Lulu. "We aren't blindly
listening to Levistus," she said, returning to the previous subject. "He wants us to go down to the
surface, says that will somehow save Elturel. I'm not saying I believe him, but it's something we
should consider when making our plans."

Farima said, "We should consult the Helm of Torm's Sight, first."

"Sure," Pariah agreed, "assuming we can bless it or whatever back in the cathedral. We'll see what
advice we get from it, if any. And if your friend comes in another dream, see what he says. Then
we'll figure out our next step." Pariah cocked her head as she looked at Farima. "Who is your little
dream friend, anyhow?"

Farima looked annoyed. "I do not know, other than the fact he seems to be a celestial -- who
probably would not want to be referred to as my 'little dream friend'."

"Sorry," Pariah said, trying to suppress a grin. "Does he have a name?"

"None that he has given me." Farima leaned her head back against the wall. "He came to me first
shortly after the fire that took my sister. In fact, I believe it was his voice that woke me that night .
He appears in my dreams occasionally. We don't really converse. Sometimes I can talk, but he
doesn't answer directly. He shows me images or gives me cryptic statements."

Pariah sighed, "Fucking immortals. Can't any of them just tell us what they want?"

Farima's face grew stern at Pariah's remark. She continued, "I believe he is related to the source of
my magical power. I do not know why I was chosen, but I gratefully accept the responsibility. His
counsel has led me here, so I believe he wants to save Elturel. Perhaps he serves one of the gods
with a strong presence here and this is their attempt to save their worshippers."

Now Pariah was the one who frowned. If the gods wanted to help, maybe they should help and not
just send people strange visions. However, she settled for saying, "Well, we'll take whatever they
can offer."

Pariah realized the other two women had been gone for a while. She squeezed her earring and said,
"Rowan, Lythienne, everything all right?"

There was a pause long enough that Pariah started to get worried, but then Rowan said, "Yes. We
are in the candle shop across the street. I think we are going to stay here. Let us know when
everyone is ready to leave."

"OK," Pariah said, confused. "Shout if you get mobbed by undead."

Pariah was restless to get moving again, and Ryland seemed to be feeling the same. They stayed
long enough that Farima was able to catch her breath, and then they decided it was time to get
moving. They stepped outside and the other two women joined them. Pariah shot Rowan a
questioning look but she just shrugged back.

Pariah and Lythienne took the lead as usual. As they got a little ahead of the group, Pariah
whispered, "You OK?"

Lythienne looked behind them to check how far back the rest of them were. She turned back to
scanning the buildings in front of them and said softly, "I just had to get out of there. Lulu's hero
worship was wearing a bit thin, and I don't just mean her denial of what Zariel has become. All the
terrible things Zariel did to the Hellriders, to Evaelisar, were done when she was an angel. Zariel,
for all her divine heritage, cared no more for mortals than the devils do."

They continued walking for a while and then Lythienne said, "I'm shocked someone who is
probably thousands of years old is so naïve. Depending on what our future goals are, I'm concerned
that Lulu might end up becoming an obstacle to what must be done. And the question you asked
her has preyed on my mind as well: if she is forced to choose between supporting Zariel and her
plans, or supporting us and the people of Elturel, then I am certain she will choose Zariel no matter
what she has become. After all, she was there when Zariel abused the Hellriders."

Lythienne looked at Pariah. "I like Lulu, I really do, but I don't believe she is on our side. Not
really. We should be careful how much we trust her."
Chapter End Notes

Anyone familiar with Encounters in Avernus was probably expecting something to

happen in the bakery, but I just used it as a convenient place to rest. I originally was
going to have one more encounter on the way back to the High Hall, but the story is
starting to feel a little bogged down so I figured I'd let them get back to the hall more
quickly. I might have something quick next chapter before they reach the hall, or
maybe they'll just get there.

I had been trying to build rapport between Lythienne and Lulu because of something
that will come up later, but I realized while writing this conversation that Lythienne
would see her as an extension of Zariel and would have a certain level of resentment
against her.
 A Return Trip
Chapter Summary

Rested and ready, the adventurers resume their trip through the dangerous streets in
their quest to return to the High Hall.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah caught her attention wandering as they walked. Just like the trip to the cemetery, the walk
back was too quiet. The red-lit streets were empty, and the heat was tiring her out. She kept having
to forcibly direct her attention back to inspecting buildings and cross streets as they neared the
switchback stairs that led up to the bluff.

Lythienne reached out to stop her. Into the earring she said, "I hear fighting." She pointed off to the
right. It would be out of their way.

Pariah could hear nothing other than the usual crackling of lightning and the distant roar of the
unending battle below. "How far?"

The elf shook her head. "It's hard to tell."

"It's probably worth checking out. Might be survivors or Hellriders."

They turned down a narrower street, and that made Pariah nervous. It would be easier to get
ambushed here. Her senses were heightened now and it wasn't long before she started to hear
yelling in the distance. They quickened their pace.

In the red sky about a block ahead of them, among a cluster of buildings, a strange cloud suddenly
formed out of nothing and started raining violently on the street below. Lythienne observed,
"That's not something you see every day."

They continued towards the mysterious rain and the narrow street opened up into one corner of a
small courtyard among other buildings. In the space stood a woman. She was tall and athletic. The
deeply tanned skin of her bare arms was decorated with sleeves of red tattoos. Pariah wasn't sure
what the symbols were, but she recognized some of them as arcane in nature. The woman was
dressed in a blue vest over a short-sleeved white shirt, and red pants tucked into flared leather
boots. The clothes had been expensive and stylish once, but now they were torn and stained with
blood. Her auburn hair had probably been in a pony tail, but half of it had escaped the leather band
and hung chaotically around her head. One hand gripped a sword that seemed to be made of
shadow.

On the ground around the woman were pools of black goo that Pariah recognized as the remains of
demons. The stranger stood just outside a strangely localized storm. Sleet and freezing rain
hammered down into the plaza and another street beyond, covering the ground with a layer of ice.
Four figures labored through the storm, trying to reach the woman as sleet pounded them and their
feet slipped on the slick cobblestones. Two of the figures were twisted humanoids: a human man
with small tentacles where his teeth should be and skin that was stretched across his bones like old
paper, and a dwarven woman with arms that were swollen to three times their normal size and
covered in boils. The other two were larger and, though roughly humanoid, much more monstrous.
One had no head, but did have several eyes and mouths full of crooked teeth placed randomly
around its warty body. The other had three heads: two on the ends of stiff arms that didn't seem to
have elbows, and one on its neck but the same fist-sized shape as the others.

The woman flung out her empty right hand and a spray of icicles impaled the creatures, downing
three of them. Their bodies bubbled into ichor that spread quickly under the pounding rain. The
headless creature continued to struggle forward, but a slash from the woman's shadowy sword cut
open its belly, spilling out intestines that crawled with maggots. The creature fell, the freezing rain
quickly covering its body with an icy sheen as it dissolved.

The storm faded and the woman stood there for a moment, breathing heavily as blood dripped on
the ground from several serious wounds. Suddenly she whirled to face the newcomers, her face a
mask of fury.

"Wait!" Pariah said, quickly dismissing her sword and holding up open hands. "We're friends!"

Lythienne had started to surge forward but stopped after hearing Pariah speak. The woman's violet
eyes darted wildly over them. As the others came up behind Pariah and Lythienne, the woman got
even tenser. "It's OK," Pariah said. "We don't want to hurt you." She made a stopping gesture to the
people approaching.

Between her exhaustion and her wounds, the woman looked like she was barely strong enough to
stand. "I know your tricks," she growled. "You fiends can't fool me with your disguises."

But she didn't attack, which gave Pariah a little hope. Pariah, her hands still up, said, "We aren't
fiends. We came from the High Hall. We were recovering a holy artifact for the commander. We
are also searching for survivors. My name is Pariah. Who are you?"

The woman continued to watch them suspiciously, but she still didn't attack. "Estellen Sohl," she
said.

"Estellen," Pariah said, continuing to keep her voice calm. "Why don't you come with us to the
High Hall? That's where some of the survivors have gathered. It's safe." Well, she said to herself, as
safe as anything could be here.

Estellen continued to watch them. She hadn't relaxed at all. "I have no reason to trust you," she
said. "Prove you aren't devils or demons."

Pariah wasn't sure how to prove that, but Rowan stepped forward. She was holding out the coin she
wore around her neck. In that same calm tone Pariah was using, Rowan said, "Look. I'm a priest of
Tymora. See? I can heal you. Would that be all right? I have to touch you, though. Would that be
OK?"

It took Estellen a long time to answer but she nodded once. She tensed up as Rowan moved towards
her. Estellen gripped her shadow blade more tightly and raised it a little. "If you try anything," she
warned, "you'll die where you stand."

"It's fine," Rowan said. She carefully reached out while mumbling a prayer, and laid a hand on the
woman's shoulder. Her hands glowed faintly and Pariah could see some of Estellen's wounds close.
She was still hurt, but she was certainly in better shape now.

Estellen relaxed just slightly. "Thanks," she said gruffly.

Rowan said, "Please come with us to the High Hall. Is it just you, or are there others with you?"

A wave of pain crossed the woman's face, so intense it made Pariah's chest hurt. "My family,"
Estellen choked out. "They're dead now."

"I'm sorry," Rowan said sadly. "I truly am. Please come with us. You can be safe with us."

The woman's face hardened, though her fury didn't seem directed at the people in front of her. "I
don't want to be safe. I have work to do."

"Work?" Rowan asked in confusion.

"I'm going to kill every single fiend in this city," Estellen said grimly. "Then I'm going to go down
into that battle below and keep killing until I fall."

"Oh," said Rowan softly. "Are you sure you won't come rest at the hall first? Start out fresh?"

The woman shook her head. "Thank you for what you did, but I have to go." She started to back
away, still watching them carefully, her shadow sword raised in a defensive position. When she
reached one of the streets leading out of the courtyard, she turned and jogged off.

Farima said, "We cannot just let her go! Her thirst for revenge will get her killed."

Rowan watched the opening Estellen had exited through. "She's not after revenge," she said, and
then she turned and met Pariah's eyes.

Pariah nodded. She had seen it too. "Yeah," she said.

"What?" Farima asked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Pariah's cheek muscles tensed. "She wants to be with her family. She's not after revenge; she's
committing suicide."

Farima looked shocked, and turned to look in the direction the woman had fled. "But then that is
even more reason to go after her. We must help her."

"She doesn't want to be helped," Pariah said. "And, to be honest, it wouldn't be safe to have
someone like that among the survivors. She isn't going worry about who else gets hurt in her drive
to take as many fiends with her as possible."

"Do any of you even care?" Farima asked angrily.

Pariah wasn't offended by the question. "Of course we do," she said, "but some people don't want
to be helped. If this is how she wants to go out, then that's her business." She shook her head. "I'm
sorry, Farima, but not everyone can be saved." She turned towards the street that would lead them
to the switchback. "We should stay on the move."

The rest of the trip back to the High Hall was uneventful. Pariah had kept trying to focus on her
surroundings but she was haunted by Estellen's face. Her expression had been a level of despair
Pariah wasn't sure she'd ever seen before. Pariah sympathized with Farima's desire to help, but
what could they offer her? A place in an overcrowded cathedral while she waited for the city to be
pulled into the River Styx?

And yet, what waited for her after death was much worse. Even if they somehow found a way to
get the people back home, the Creed Resolute still damned their souls to Zariel's service. Levistus
had talked about saving the people. Did he mean just their bodies or their souls? It seemed likely
he wanted to deny Zariel their souls, so maybe following his path would eventually lead them to a
way to break the contract.

But what about the people who had already been condemned here? When Sylvira had talked about
Pariah's contract, she pointed out that any attempt to destroy it would probably kill her before the
contract was gone. Her soul would be lost and at that point it wouldn't matter if the contract was
destroyed. Would breaking Zariel's pact save everyone, or only the people who had not yet been
sent to Avernus?

Pariah hadn't found an answer by the time they traversed the park in front of the High Hall to reach
the palisade at the broken gate. The guards waved them through. Rowan asked them, "Did an older
woman, a priest of Tymora, come through here?"

One of the guards, a curly-haired half-orc woman in Flaming Fist armor, nodded. "Yeah. She went
into the cathedral. Looked pretty bad."

"She did?" Rowan asked in surprise. "Was she wounded?"

The guard shook her head. "Nah, just really tired, like she'd walked a thousand miles. Hungry or
sick maybe."

"Oh," Rowan said, concern in her voice. "Thank you."

They headed into the courtyard and then entered the cathedral. Conditions inside looked about the
same as when they had left, though Pariah noticed the stairway in the back that led to the
catacombs was now guarded. She asked the first guard she saw inside, a shaven-headed Hellrider,
where Ravengard was. He seemed annoyed by the question and growled that he was probably in
the council room downstairs.

Rowan was looking around the room. "I'm going to try finding Evyan," she said. "You don't really
need me down there, do you?"

They all looked at each other with shrugs. "I don't think so," said Lythienne. "We can always call
you if we do."

As Rowan walked off, Ryland was looking towards the Hellrider camp. "I should report in," he
said, "but I don't see the captain here. She's probably with Duke Ravengard so I'll come along."

They went down the narrow, curved stairs into the crypt, which was emptier than before. Only the
worst of the wounded were here. The nature priest was sitting on the ground, reading to one of the
patients. Seltern Obranch, that was his name, Pariah remembered. He looked up and gave them a
nod of recognition. Seeing the book reminded Pariah that she wanted to ask around to see if there
was anything to read. Well, that could wait.

They headed down the hall to the council room. The barricade that was there before had been
rebuilt. There was one guard, but he was facing towards them as they walked down the corridor.
He was stationed to keep people going from the crypt to the catacombs rather than the other way
around. Another guard, a half-elf with a patchy, auburn beard, stopped them as they tried to enter
the council room. "The council is busy," he said. "They are not taking audiences."

Pariah was tired and cranky. She could hear voices within the room. Loudly, so she could be heard
by the people inside, she said, "We come from the cemetery with the artifact Ravengard wanted."

The guard hesitated, and then turned to say something over his shoulder. Before he could speak,
she heard Ravengard's voice say, "Let them in."

They entered the room to see the five members of the council sitting together at one end of the long
table, all of them looking haggard. Ravengard looked the entering group over briefly before saying,
"Report."

Farima was already pulling the wrapped helm from her satchel. She laid it on the table and
carefully removed the blanket from around it.

"You found it!" Acolyte Jynks said, rising and starting to walk over. "That's wonderful!"

"Wait!" Farima warned her, and the other woman stopped in surprise. "The helm appears to have
been corrupted. We should not touch it until we decide what to do."

Ravengard said, "What did you find at the cemetery?"

Farima dropped into lecture mode. "The cemetery had about a hundred undead, though they were
somewhat dormant when we arrived. We discovered that Master..." She turned to Ryland.
"Lightward?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said. "Gideon Lightward."

"Master Lightward was also undead, and I believe he was the one who raised the ones in the
cemetery. He was apparently corrupted by something evil. I believe it might have been even before
the city came here, before he was undead. He was being influenced by a figure who may or may
not have been Zariel. He was raising an undead army to fight the demons, though I believe he
would have fought any who opposed Zariel as well."

Ravengard's mouth tightened. "Was raising?"

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "He attacked us and we were forced to destroy him and many of his
undead minions before fleeing. However, before that happened, we were able to recover the helm
as you can see. We also found the previous soldiers you sent. I'm afraid all but one were dead, and
the last was wearing this helmet but raving. We ended up being forced to kill him when he attacked
us."

Farima turned to Jynks again. "It seems that the Vault of Ascendance has been corrupted by a
demon, I believe the demon lord Baphomet. That may have been what corrupted the helmet as
well. There is a portal there and demons occasionally are coming through it. The ossuary is
protected by a sturdy and magically locked door." She furrowed her brow. "However, now that
Master Lightward is dead, I am realizing that the magic protection may be gone. The cemetery
may be a gateway for the demons to reach the city."

While Ravengard scribbled this information down, Farima continued, "We made another important
discovery. We found a ritual prayer for consecrating an area to protect it from fiends and undead. I
believe the ritual will protect the entire cathedral and will be quite unassailable."

"Really?" Ravengard said in a tone of cautious optimism. "That's possibly the best news I've heard
since we got here. You have that with you?"

"Yes. Well, it is with Rowan, another of our group. She is upstairs at the moment checking on a
friend."

He nodded. "I noticed you were one short. I'm glad to hear you didn't lose anyone."
 Farima unconsciously rubbed her ribs. "We are a bit worse for wear, but we are all here. In fact we
found another priest of Tymora and I understand she is upstairs as well. I think she will be a
valuable asset."

He nodded. "I heard. But I also heard she fell ill."

"Did she?" asked Farima in surprise. "I know we rescued her from some devils, but she seemed in
fine shape when she left us."

Ravengard turned to Jynks, who said, "She came in but collapsed as soon as she entered the
cathedral. I think it was a combination of fatigue, hunger, thirst, heat stroke, and possibly a few
other things."

Lythienne said, "Well, she was being hanged when we found her, so that probably took a lot out of
her." From her tone, she probably meant it as a light-hearted comment, but it came off as a little
insensitive.

Jynks looked shocked at the news. "Oh, I had no idea. She's barely spoken since she arrived, and
we've been busy down here."

"What about the helm?" asked Ravengard. "Was that a wasted trip?"

"No," said Farima carefully. "The protection prayer was worth it if nothing else. And the removal
of Master Lightward's corrupted form will probably benefit the city. As for the helm, I had hoped
to discuss with Rowan, Acolyte Jynks and the new priest whether or not we could purify it and
restore its function as a connection to Torm."

"Maybe," Jynks said, her brow furrowed. "The devils had desecrated the altars upstairs but we were
able to bless them and remove the infernal taint. Its possible we could do the same for the helm."
She shook her head. "I don't know. It's a powerful artifact. And if it really is Baphomet, that's a
powerful evil. I just don't know."

Farima reassured her, "Between the four of us, I'm sure we can manage. We can at least try."

"I'm more interested in the protection spell," Ravengard said. "Don't you agree, acolyte?"

Jynks seemed nervous. "Well, to be honest, Your Grace, I don't. Certainly it is important, but I
think the helm is the more important task right now. Getting the assistance of one of the gods may
be our only hope of rescuing the city. I'm also concerned the safety of keeping a relic that has fallen
under a demon lord's influence. It should be cleansed immediately." Hesitantly she added,
"Though, of course, I will defer to your orders."

Ravengard drummed his fingers on the papers in front of him while he considered her suggestion.
"Very well. Work with the other priests to purify the helmet, and then do the protection spell."

Chapter End Notes

The encounter was "Obsessed Avenger" from Encounters in Avernus, though I gave
her some different spells.
 A Divine Artifact
Chapter Summary

The party has discovered two ways they can help the citizens of Elturel during this
crisis. For their first task, the Helm of Torm's Sight must be consecrated to remove the
demonic influence that has corrupted it.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The group exited the conference room and headed towards the stairs. Acolyte Jynks was with them
and they were going to assist her in setting up for the ritual. Pariah said into the earring, "Rowan,
where are you?"

"Over here," said Rowan, and it took Pariah a moment to realize her voice didn't come over the
earring. She looked around and saw Rowan sitting on the floor of the crypt. Next to her, the priest
of Tymora they had rescued was lying on some blankets.

Pariah turned to the others. "You guys go ahead. We'll be up in a minute." She walked over to
Rowan and said to her, "Jynks is going to try to bless the helmet. She was hoping you could help."

The old priest smiled up at her weakly. Her face was much paler than it had been before and she
didn't seem to have much energy. "You are Pariah, right? Sister Rowan has been telling me all
about you. I guess we were never really introduced."

Pariah sat down on the floor. "I'm sorry, I know Rowan told us your name but I don't remember it."

"Evyan," the woman said. "Pleased to meet you."

Pariah nodded a greeting. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Evyan chuckled slightly. "Well, that's relative I guess. Right at the moment, I'm stuck in Hell, but
it looks like I might be moving on shortly."

Pariah was confused by her answer but she saw the grief on Rowan's face and understanding
dawned. "Oh," she said. "Were you hurt by the devils?"

Evyan shook her head. "No, just by time. I'm a little too old for this much excitement, I guess. But
what was it you were saying about a blessing?"

Pariah sat back, leaning on her palms against the cold stone floor. "We brought a helmet back from
the Grand Cemetery. It's supposed to be an artifact of Torm."

The woman nodded. "Yes. Rowan was telling me that. And that it is corrupted?"

"Yes. Jynks is going to try to bless it and, I don't know, kick the demon out. She's not sure she can
do it by herself so was hoping to get help from one of you."

Evyan sighed, "I suppose that will have to be you, Sister Rowan."
Rowan looked conflicted. "I don't know if I can. I don't know if I'm strong enough."

"Of course you are, sister," the old woman said. "It's like I told you at the Old High Harvest Home.
The Lady has never left you, even as you struggled. Your faith wavers, but everyone's does, and we
come out stronger in the end. I genuinely believe she sent me to find you and tell you that." She
reached out to pat Rowan's hand. "She believes in you. I believe in you. Now why don't you head
upstairs and help these people."

"All right," Rowan said reluctantly. "Promise me you'll still be here when I get back."

Evyan's eyes twinkled as she said, "I'm not sure it's up to me anymore, but I'll do my best."

Rowan put a hand on the woman's shoulder, closed her eyes and mumbled, "Tymora, please watch
over her in this time of difficulty." Then she and Pariah stood, gave Evyan a silent goodbye, and
headed towards the stairs.

The main cathedral was a confusing buzz of activity. The soldiers were herding people in the
direction of the entrance. They weren't clearing the cathedral, merely moving the grumbling crowd
away from the far end. Pariah hadn't explored that far, but now saw that there was another altar
there on a raised dais. This altar was a simpler design than the clenched fist that hid the passage to
the crypts, being little more than a stone slab covered in a white linen sheet emblazoned with the
gauntlet symbol of Torm. Farima had put the Helm of Torm's Sight on top of the altar, and she was
carefully unwrapping it while Jynks was strapping on pieces of plate armor decorated with symbols
of Torm.

In a powerful voice, Ravengard bellowed to the room, "This is just a temporary measure for your
safety. We need the room for a short time, and then you will be allowed to return."

Pariah and Rowan went to the altar. Jynks turned as she heard them approach. She looked past
them and asked hopefully, "Will Evyan be joining us?

"No," Rowan said. "She's gotten too weak. I'll help as best I can."

"I'm grateful for any help I can get," Jynks said. "I've never performed a prayer like this. Maybe
you could do the prayer while I assist?"

Rowan considered that, but said, "I think as a representative of Torm, it would be best for you to do
it. But I'll be right by your side."

"All right," Jynks said without enthusiasm. "I'm concerned that dark forces will be released once
we start this prayer, which is why I suggested that the duke clear a space."

Farima said, "It is also possible forces will assault from the outside, and Duke Ravengard has said
he will station more of his forces defensively. I reasoned that we can stay here and provide any
assistance needed during the ritual."

"Sounds good," Pariah said.

Ravengard and two Elturel city guard stayed behind along with Ryland, Farima, Lythienne, Pariah
and Lulu. They placed themselves in a wide ring around the altar, ready to defend against attacks
from any direction. Jynks continued to putter about the altar, carefully placing and adjusting
religious objects. After a while it became clear she was stalling, and Rowan gently said to her, "I
think we are ready."

"Yes," Jynks said, her voice shaking.

Rowan put a hand on her shoulder and said gently, "Perhaps we should start with a protection
prayer, and then the consecration ritual."

"That seems like a good idea," Jynks said. She and Rowan each said their own personal protection
prayers, and then stood behind the altar, facing the helmet. Pariah realized that Rowan was
wearing the War Gauntlet on her right hand. Rowan reached out and placed her gauntleted hand on
top of the helm. Jynks held open a prayer book, and she began to read from it.

"Torm, Hand of Righteousness, I pledge my obedience to you in this, my hour of need."

"Praise the True," said Rowan. Ryland was next to Pariah and said the same thing, as did many of
the other people in the cathedral.

As soon as Jynks started speaking, the room seemed to darken. Pariah felt a sickness growing
inside. She summoned her sword into her hand as shadows started to coalesce around the helm. As
they formed into humanoid shapes with glowing eyes, Pariah was already moving forward.

She stabbed at the nearest form. As her sword passed through the shape, it was like thrusting
through smoke. She imagined she might have felt a hint of resistance, and some of the darkness
seemed to dissipate and then reform. Ryland had charged forward with her and his blades also
seemed to cut through the smoke but it reformed quickly.

The creature lunged at Jynks, her eyes wide with fear, but it veered off with a hiss of annoyance.
Instead, as the blades slashed through it, it whirled around and a shadowy tentacle batted across
Ryland's head. It passed through him but he gasped as it did, and Pariah could see some kind of
energy being pulled out of him.

Lythienne, who had been on the other side of the altar, darted forward to engage the other one,
which was harassing Rowan. Like the first one, it was having trouble getting past the protective
spell around Rowan, so instead turned its attention on Lythienne.

"Protect the civilians!" Ravengard bellowed as he charged in. He smashed at the one on Jynks with
his shield. It was a strange maneuver, but it seemed to blow it back like he was fanning smoke. He
alternated longsword strikes with shield bashes, trying to drive it away from the acolyte.

Jynks's voice was shaking as she tried to focus. "My loyalty to you grants me strength. My duty to
you fills me with courage."

"Praise the True!" growled Ravengard as he pushed the ghostly figure further back.

"Praise the True!" said Rowan at the same time, and she winced as some kind of dark energy
pulsed out of the helmet and up her body. Pariah feared a third creature was coming, but nothing
else manifested.

Farima called out, "Hold on, acolyte! I'm coming to you." She was circling around the creatures,
bolts of energy flying from her staff, as she tried to get to Jynks without getting close to the
demonic spirits.

The thing in front of Pariah was still trying to get to Jynks past the protective spell, but it was more
aware of the others fighting it. It phased in and out of existence, always managed to be where
Pariah's sword wasn't. She was keeping half an eye on the battle with the other creature as well.
There were three attackers on the nearer one but only Lythienne on the other. Pariah saw it draw
energy out of her as the one near her had done to Ryland, and Lythienne seemed suddenly much
weaker.
That triggered Lythienne's rage, and anger surged into her as she launched a frenzy of attacks
against the shadowy thing, managing to drive it away from the altar as Ravengard had.

Jynks continued, the book trembling in her hands but her voice growing stronger, "I humbly ask for
your assistance in purging the chaos and evil before me."

"Praise the True!" said Rowan through gritted teeth as another wave of dark energy pulsed up her
arm.

Ravengard had pushed the one creature away from Jynks. This gave Farima space to move up near
Jynks. Farima reached out to touch the acolyte and say, "Tyr, please protect this ally with your right
hand."

Ravengard and Ryland had formed a barrier between the ghostly shape and the acolyte, with Pariah
continuing to harass it from its other side. To everyone's surprise, the spectral shadow slipped into
the stone wall to Ravengard's right and disappeared. It popped out of the stone behind Jynks and
managed to get past her protective spell, but its shadowy claw scraped harmlessly on the shiny
steel plate on her back.

As the thing phased back into the wall, Pariah said, "Where is it?" She pulled the cold into her
hand, watching the wall and preparing to strike.

"Get the other one," Ravengard barked to Ryland as he faced the wall, sword raised and ready.
Ryland moved up to help Lythienne try to keep the thing away from Rowan.

Jynks continued to hold firm, even after having felt the attack. Unsteadily she said, "I pray that you
bring order to anarchy, and a blessing to cleanse the corruption."

"Praise the True!" Pariah said along with everyone else as she scanned the wall for the next attack.

A shadow popped out of the wall, immediately met with Pariah's blast of cold energy. Ravengard's
blade scraped loudly across the stone as it withdrew, but it looked like he had caught a piece of it.
Pariah was ignoring the other battle now, her attention focused completely on the wall behind
Jynks and Rowan. She could hear Ryland and Lythienne fighting, and the familiar zip of Farima's
magic.

That inattention nearly cost her as the other shape suddenly appeared beside her, lashing out at
Jynks just as the other one popped out of the wall to do the same. Swords slashed and magic flew
as the creatures struck.

Her voice growing desperate, Jynks shouted, "May you grace your faithful servants with the glory
of your protective hand."

"Praise The True!" replied many voices simultaneously.

The War Gauntlet started to glow, and that glow spread to the helm and then to the altar. The light
quickly suffused the area, and the shadows disintegrated before it. The sickness Pariah had felt
inside her faded and peace returned to the cathedral.

Everyone held still for a moment, looking around to see if there was going to be another attack, but
the area seemed quiet. Ravengard pointed at one of the city soldiers with his sword. "Go get a
report from Captain Kaas. Find out if anything attacked the outer wall." The soldier saluted and
jogged towards the main entrance.

Jynks leaned back against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. Rowan and Lythienne both
looked worn, their faces drawn, their breathing quick.

"Let me help you," said Farima as she stepped forward. She mumbled healing prayers but neither
of them looked much better.

"Thank you," said Lythienne. "That took a lot out of me. I feel very drained. I think I need to sleep
for a while."

"Yeah," agreed Rowan. "Something about that magic."

"Perhaps you should go rest," Farima suggested.

Ravengard had walked up to the altar and was looking at the helmet. "So is that thing safe now?"

Jynks looked unsure. "I think so, Your Grace."

Rowan held out a hand. "Tymora, please reveal all evil before me." She studied it and then turned
and surveyed the cathedral. "It looks safe," she said. "I sense no demonic presence here."

"So now what?" he asked.

"I should probably put it on now," Jynks said without enthusiasm. "See if Torm will send me some
insight."

Farima said, "If you'd prefer, I could do it. You seem quite drained by the ritual. Plus I know more
about what's going on so I would know the right questions to ask him."

Jynks considered that and then said reluctantly, "No. No, it should be me."

Rowan gingerly picked up the relic with both hands, her metal hand clinking on the steel helmet.
She knelt down next to Jynks and held it out. Farima sat down on the other side of her. Jynks took
the helmet slowly and held it before her.

"We'll keep you safe," Rowan assured her.

"Absolutely," Farima agreed.

Jynks gave them each a grateful smile and then lifted the helmet. Pariah felt herself tensing up as
the acolyte slowly slipped it onto her head.

Jynks's hands dropped to her sides and her eyes closed. Her body didn't go limp -- she was still
sitting up -- but all of her muscles relaxed. The group watched tensely as her eyes started to move
under her closed lids. Her lips moved now and then and sometimes she'd start to speak, but only in
brief, unintelligible mumbles. Her fingers twitched and magic danced along them, but faded
quickly.

Long minutes passed while Jynks continued to act like a person in a dream. The guard came in and
Pariah heard him report to Ravengard that there had been no attacks from outside, and that Kaas
would remain alert.

Time stretched and Pariah started to worry. The man in the ossuary had been trapped in some kind
of nightmare, unable to remove the helmet. She wondered if they should try to take it off, or if
interrupting whatever was happening would make it worse. She tried to take comfort from the fact
that Jynks wasn't raving in the language of demons.

Suddenly, Jynks's eyes flew open and darted around the room. She looked confused, like she was
having trouble recognizing the things around her. She stared at Rowan for a long moment before
asking, "Are you real?"

Rowan smiled. "Yes, I'm real."

Jynks didn't seem that comforted. She reached out to touch the stone of the floor and continued to
look around. She looked up and then slowly removed the helmet. She held it in front of her, staring
at it for a long time. "That was...a lot," she said.

"So it worked?" Farima asked. "You spoke with Torm?"

Jynks's brow furrowed. "Yes," she said slowly. "I believe so." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm
still trying to make sense of what I saw." To Ravengard, she said, "I think we should go to the
conference room, Your Grace. And I think they should come along," she waved towards Farima.

"Right," he said. To the same guardsman he said, "Go get Captain Kaas and tell her to report to the
conference room. He bellowed, "Triest! Ryken! With me!" To a different soldier, he said, "Let
everyone move back into their camps. It should be safe now."

Pariah joined the others as they trooped down the narrow, winding stairway into the crypt and past
that to the conference room. As Pariah took a seat, she realized Rowan wasn't with them. She
looked out the doorway in confusion, and then Farima told her, "She went to check on the priest."

"Oh," Pariah replied. A couple of minutes later, Captain Kaas came in and Rowan hurried in
behind her.

To Pariah's questioning look, Rowan whispered, "She's fine. Still holding on."

"I'm glad," Pariah said.

The room fell silent, everyone's attention on Jynks who was looking introspective. When she didn't
start speaking, Ravengard cleared his throat. "When you're ready, acolyte," he prompted.

She looked up and glanced around the room in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I'm still trying
to make sense out of what I saw. It's hard to express."

She composed herself and said, "At first, there was just darkness. No, not darkness. It was a swirl
of colors, but all the colors were black." She shook her head. "I know that doesn't make sense.
Anyhow, the darkness was split with a beam of golden light. The light grew brighter until it was
blinding, and it tore the shadows like they were paper. The light became red and the air became hot
and dry.

"As the light and shadow parted, I saw a battlefield below a red sky and a pile of hundreds of fiend
corpses. Other devils were hauling bodies off the mound and chattering to each other. They
reached the bottom of the pile of devil bodies, and there was the body of an angel. Her skin was
like porcelain, her hair like gold, and her wings like bloodstained ivory."

"Zariel!" Lulu said.

Jynks looked at her. "Yes, I think so. The devils were looking at the body and cackling, but then
suddenly one of them looked over his shoulder and dropped prostrate to the ground. Others looked
and they did the same. Soon all the devils were on their knees, foreheads to the ground, bowing
before a figure.

"A tall devil with maroon and crimson skin, dressed in black and gold robes, strode among the
corpses. He was terrible and beautiful, with two long, dark horns curving from his forehead. His
eyes smoldered as he looked down at the angel. He turned to one of the devils and said in a voice
that was smooth with elegance and heavy with threat, 'Where is her sword?' And then the vision
faded."

Jynks paused but clearly wasn't done. The others waited for her to continue.

"Next I saw a castle courtyard. A line of knights ceremonial armor stood there. Each had a badge,"
she tapped her left shoulder, "showing two suns, one larger than the other. Before them was a
grassy field, and there were three riders with the same badge. One was a woman with dark hair on a
black charger. The second was a bearded man on a white horse. The third was that same angel,
beautiful and alive, and riding a winged mammoth with golden fur."

Lulu was practically jumping up and down. "That was me! That was me!"

Pariah glanced over at Lythienne and saw her face hardening.

Jynks continued. "Another mounted man approached, flanked by an honor guard. He stopped
nearby and dismounted. The other three riders did the same. A herald announced, 'Haruman, Lord
Knight of the Far Hills, greets Lord Olanthius.'

"The bearded man said to the newcomer, 'Hail to you, Lord Haruman, and welcome to Elturel. I am
pleased to introduce you to Lady Yael of Idyllglen and Zariel, solar of Celestia.'" Jynks smiled
slightly and said, "And then the mammoth trumpeted, 'And I'm Lulu!' The new man, Lord
Haruman, went down the line shaking everyone's hand and then the vision faded."

Jynks looked up at the ceiling. "Then I was back in Avernus, under the red sky. I heard a distant
battle. I heard trumpeting among the battle sounds. Zariel was kneeling in the dust. Lady Yael
knelt on the ground next to her, her armor battered, bloody and covered in dirt. Zariel pushed a
glowing sword into her hands. Yael said, 'I refuse. Do not ask this of me.'

"Zariel was sad as she smiled and said, 'I must. I do. Look beyond this forsaken day. One last time,
I need you to dream a little bigger.'

"Tears streamed down Yael's face as she took the sword. Another trumpet sounded and you," she
nodded at Lulu, "came charging up. Zariel said, 'I've driven them off but there's another group
drawing near.' She pulled off her gauntlet and buried her hand in your fur." Jynks's voice started to
break but she continued. "She said to you, 'My old friend. Goodbye. Perhaps we shall meet again,
but I do not think so. I need you to go with Yael. Help her make certain my Sword is not captured
by the forces of Hell. Let it become a symbol of everything we have fought for. Even if it has
ended in folly, let our deeds have meaning.'

"The vision started to fade, but before it did, I heard Zariel's voice say, 'This is the last thing I will
ever ask of you. Protect Yael.'"

Jynks was silent. Pariah saw Lulu was crying. Farima and Ryland had both reached out to comfort
her.

"Is that all?" asked Ravengard.

Jynks shook her head but remained silent as she composed herself. She took a shaking breath and
resumed her tale. "I heard battle again, but the sounds were different. I saw armored knights on
horseback, riding at a full gallop. The sky was blue, but colored by the red tinge of the setting sun.
Ahead of them, Zariel led the charge from Lulu's back. The knights were fighting a horde of
brown-furred humanoids with the heads of hyenas."

"Gnolls," said Ravengard.

Jynks nodded. "A wall of them came over the hill in front. Dozens. Hundreds. Zariel ordered the
knights to guard the flanks while she carved a path through, and she and Lulu charged ahead. Two
waves of gnolls charged in from the sides. The knights repelled them and then charged forward
where Zariel had captured the hill. From there, I could see acres of farms ruined by the battle,
covered in corpses. On one side was a small village, much of it on fire. I think it was Idyllglen.

"But that's not what held my attention. A few hundred yards ahead of us was a massive, deformed
gnoll. He stood over twelve feet high, was horribly scarred and had a crest of black spines. He held
Lady Yael by the neck in blood-stained claws. He saw us and then turned away. He slashed the air
and a roiling, purple portal was torn open. He leapt through, cackling, taking Lady Yael with him.

"The vision didn't fade at that point. It kind of froze. From within the portal, I heard a distorted
voice say, 'Where is the sword?' Another voice said weakly, 'I don't know...I don't...I used to know,
but I don't anymore. I don't.' I couldn't even tell you if the voices were male or female, they were so
cracked and faint."

Jynks paused to collect her thoughts again. "Then a gauntlet appeared and swept the vision away
with the light that emanated from it. The light was bright but it didn't blind me. It comforted me.
The gauntlet clenched into a fist and a booming voice came from all around me and said, 'Seek ye
Zariel's blade. It is the key to her heart and her greatest desire. With it, Elturel's chains can be
severed.'

"The gauntlet opened and showed me what it held." She nodded at Lulu. "It was you, hovering
above his palm. The voice said, 'Even from my sight is the sword hidden. There is only one who
knows and she knows not.'

"The gauntlet closed and then opened again, this time revealing two black-feathered, birdlike
humanoids standing next to a strange vehicle of black iron. The voice said, 'She must seek the
kenku. In her memory they speak."

"The gauntlet closed for a third time. 'Seek the kenku!' he said again. Then the light became
blinding, and I woke up."

Lulu was still upset, but she suddenly said in a voice laden with tears, "I remember something! I'll
be right back!" She zoomed out of the council chamber before anyone could react.

There was a long silence as people digested what Jynks had said. Ravengard blew out a frustrated
breath. "OK, so we saw Zariel losing the battle. Don't care." He grimaced. "I'm sorry, acolyte. I
don't mean any lack of respect to you or Torm, but that doesn't help me figure out what the next
step is."

Jynks nodded. "I understand."

"So Zariel lost in Avernus. Then she met some people here, right? Was that before Avernus?"

"Yes," said Lythienne. Pariah could see the anger on her face but she was keeping her tone even.
"Those were the generals of the Three Armies of mortals that Zariel led to their doom in Avernus."

"Fine," said Ravengard impatiently. "With respect, don't care. Then something about her giving up
her sword. Then battle against gnolls, but one was a spellcaster or something?"
 Lythienne said, "I believe the large gnoll was actually the demon lord Yeenoghu, who led Zariel's
army into a trap."

Jynks nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. He didn't seem like a normal gnoll. I felt the evil
radiating off of him."

Ravengard said, "Then the big demon kidnaps Yael and goes through a portal. Then some voice, I
guess that was supposed to be Torm, said find the sword. Lulu knows where the sword is but
doesn't know where the sword is. But some bird people do. I don't know of any bird people in the
city. So to find the sword we have to find the bird people but we don't know where the bird people
are."

"Well, yes," Jynks said.

"Fucking immortals," Pariah mumbled. "Can't they just say what they want?"

That got her a sour look from Farima.

Further conversation was interrupted when Lulu came zipping back into the room. "I see it! I see
it!" she said in excitement.

"See what?" Ravengard asked tiredly.

"I remember the kenku," she said. "Their names are Chukka and Clonk. They took me to some
kind of junkyard called Fort Knucklebone. They build and repair vehicles designed to go across
Avernus really fast." She frowned. "I don't remember anything else about the fort, like who else
was there." Then she brightened, "But I saw it! I went outside and flew up, and I can see it down on
the surface. It's just a few miles away! We have to go there! We have to!"

"Go down to Avernus?" Lythienne asked unenthusiastically.

"Yes, we have to!"

Rowan said, "There's kind of a big battle going on down there."

"Oh, that's fine," Lulu said dismissively. "That's just devils and demons killing each other. They
won't care about us.

Pariah wasn't sure she agreed, but also didn't see another choice. She said to the Farima, "Well, I
guess both my mysterious voice and your mysterious voice want us to go down there."

Farima looked troubled. "Well, we should ensure that this cathedral is safe first. Rowan, you said
that protection ritual will take about a day?"

Rowan nodded. "Give or take a couple of hours."

"Then I suggest we take that day to rest and consider our next move."

Chapter End Notes

In terms of "yes, I overthink things," I considered what the prayer would be like. Per
the module, it takes 5 rounds, or 30 seconds. Speaking speed is typically about 150
words per minute, so about 75 words in phrases of about 15 words apiece.

The module has two will-o-the-wisps, but in my story Ravengard is present. He's
basically level 15 so that really ups the power. Plus I let the PCs prep more than most
players probably would. So I replaced the wisps with two amped up wraiths, and I still
dragged the combat out to 5 rounds to cover the entire prayer. This was interesting
because Jynks, as written, has AC 10 and HP 9. However, I figured that an acolyte of
Torm should be wearing full armor. Sanctuary helped a lot, and Farima's Protection
from Evil helped even more. I was prepared to fudge, since a single hit would
probably be an insta-kill and end the prayer, but I didn't have to. They never managed
to hit her.

The revised visions from the helm are from the remix.
 A Philosophical Discussion
Chapter Summary

Still reeling from the evil forces that attacked during the purification ritual, the groups
sets out to finish securing the cathedral and decide on their next move.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah came down into the crypt and found Farima sitting with Evyan. The priest was sitting up
against the wall, but she had dark circles under her eyes and seemed to be having trouble catching
her breath. Pariah walked over and said to Farima, "I'll take over. Why don't you go up and get
something to eat?"

"Thank you," Farima said, wincing as she stood up. Rowan had confirmed that her ribs were not
broken, but she had taken a severe injury from Gideon that was not healing quickly.

Pariah sat down in her place and, as Farima headed for the stairs, Pariah held out half of a
goodberry to Evyan. "I brought you breakfast," she said.

Evyan accepted it gratefully and slowly placed it into her mouth. She grimaced as she chewed it.

Pariah felt her face mirroring Evyan's in sympathy. "I find it's better to swallow it whole."

Evyan put up a finger to ask Pariah to wait while she struggled with the berry in her mouth. When
she finished with it, she said, "I am having some trouble swallowing lately. I have to chew
thoroughly to get anything down."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Pariah said in concern. Evyan had been weakening quickly and Pariah
didn't think she had long left.

Evyan said, "You don't all have to sit with me. I'm fine. I'm sure you have plenty of other things to
do."

"It's all right," Pariah said. "It's what Rowan would want, since she can't be here right now."

"How is the ceremony going?" Evyan asked, still smacking her lips with an expression of
revulsion.

Pariah shrugged. "OK, I guess. It's all very long and involved, and I can't really follow what they
are doing."

Evyan studied her. "You are worried about her," she said.

"Yeah, she's exhausted. I told her she should rest after that thing with the helm, but she insisted
they do the protection prayer right away. I know it's important, but I don't think waiting a few
hours would have been that much of a risk."

Evyan reached out and patted her hand. "That's not what I mean. You're worried about her in a
larger sense."

Pariah raised her eyebrows. "Well, yeah, I guess so." Cautiously she said, "She was struggling with
some things even before we came here."

"She told me about her crisis of faith," Evyan replied, "though I could see it even before she
admitted it to me. We've been talking about it."

"I'm glad to hear that," Pariah said, feeling relieved. "Have you been able to help her?"

Evyan shrugged. "A little. I've tried to show her the broader perspective of the gods. They don't see
things like we do, don't react like we do."

Pariah tried to keep her face neutral but could feel her lips pulling into a grimace. Evyan obviously
saw it too because her eyes twinkled as she said, "And Sister Rowan isn't the only one struggling, is
she?"

"I guess," Pariah said. "A little. But it's been worse for her."

"It's not about better or worse," Evyan replied. "Most people struggle with trying to understand the
actions of the gods. People think they don't get involved but they do."

Pariah couldn't hold back a derisive snort. "Do they?" she said, motioning around them.

Evyan didn't seem offended. "They do, but not always in a way that seems clear. You have to
understand that the gods -- all of the immortals -- don't perceive things like we do. They perceive
time differently, cause and effect differently. I used to think that they simply saw time more slowly.
When your lifespan is measured in millennia, taking months to react is an immediate response. But
now that I'm here in this strange, timeless place I think they genuinely do not pass through time in
the same way as us. It's not faster or slower; it's just different."

Pariah frowned but didn't comment. Evyan continued, "And when they take action, it's not as direct
as we might expect. I truly believe I was sent here by Tymora. I believe my path took me through
Elturel right before it was taken for many reasons, not the least of which was to give counsel to
another one of her priests."

Pariah said skeptically, "You're saying Tymora sent you to Hell to make Rowan feel better?"

Evyan chuckled. "Well, when you put it like that, it sounds bad but yes, I do. And helping her is
not all I've done. I've been able to bring a lot of Tymora's blessing and comfort to the people here."
She patted Pariah's hand again and said, "And I don't think I'm the only one who was deliberately
put in her path."

At first Pariah liked the idea of that, but then she remembered how she was put in Rowan's path
and that started to make her angry. If Tymora really had subjected her to that just so Rowan had a
friend, that seemed like an awful thing to do. But it hadn't been Tymora who had put her in that
place at that time; it had been Levistus.

Pariah said, "It seems easy to decide that everything that happens is some kind of sign from the
gods." That came out more argumentatively than she had meant it to.

"I suppose so," said Evyan. "But I know that Tymora has given her blessings to your group
through her priest, and not just through the divine gifts Sister Rowan can bestow on you. She told
me about the key. That seems like more than a coincidence."
Pariah frowned. "Yeah, I'll give you that one. Are you saying she guided us to that devil?"

Evyan shrugged. "Maybe, but more likely she just nudged Sister Rowan's decision to ensure she
picked the key that would be useful to you."

"Why didn't they stop all this?" Pariah asked, again waving generally around her.

Evyan thought about that one for a while. "I suspect the politics of the Upper and Lower Planes is
complicated. Both sides have to be careful not to escalate to a direct confrontation that could be
destructive to everyone's interests. They act in subtle ways through mortals: Torm's guidance, the
ritual going on above us, even your presence here. These are all ways the gods are trying to help
Elturel."

Pariah wrestled with that idea. On the one hand, it seemed to her that someone like Torm could just
snap his fingers and return Elturel to the mortal world, but then what would be Hell's response?
Look what happened when Zariel decided to take direct action in violation of Heaven's position in
the Blood War. The result had been countless souls lost, and a new archdevil to rule Avernus.

Farima was here at the guidance of someone she thought was a celestial. Pariah was here at the
request of a devil. Rowan might be here because of Tymora's desire. Lythienne -- well, Pariah had
no idea why she was with them, other than being an indirect victim of Zariel's previous mistakes.

While she was thinking about this, Evyan started to shift so she could lie down on her bedroll. She
said, "Let's continue this talk later. I think I need to rest." She was asleep practically before she
finished the sentence.

The book Pariah was reading was not that interesting. She had finally gotten around to asking
Jynks if there were any books, but only a few had survived the attacks on the cathedral. Pariah had
taken this one because it was supposed to be a history of Torm's actions in the mortal world, but it
was mostly just "Torm is amazing" and "Torm is wonderful" and "You should really worship
Torm because he's so great" propaganda.

The sleeping figure stirred and Pariah looked over to see that she was waking up. As the woman
stretched with a groan, Pariah put the book down and asked, "How'd you sleep?"

Rowan rubbed her eyes. "Not bad." She sat up. "How long was I out?"

Pariah shrugged. "It's hard to tell here, but a long time. Longer than the rest of us slept anyhow.
The others already headed in for their breakfast berries. That was a while ago though. I figured I'd
stay here until you woke up."

The group had kept their camp in the storeroom, which felt more comfortable now that the
courtyard was secure. The cathedral was certainly the safer choice after the protection ritual, but
Pariah still had the problem of being unable to maintain her disguise while she slept, so they had
decided to remain in the storeroom.

Rowan looked better now that she'd had a decent amount of rest. She wasn't so pale and her eyes
weren't glazed over anymore. "Man, I'm starving," she said. "Let's go get our goodberries and then
I want to check in on Evyan real quick before we figure out our next step."

Pariah hesitated. "About Evyan..." she said and then trailed off with a sympathetic look.

It took Rowan only a moment to realize what she was saying. "Damn," she sighed. "When?"
"She slipped away sometime in the night. In her sleep. Farima went down to see her when she went
over, but she was already gone."

"Damn," Rowan said again, her eyes shining. "Well, I guess it's not that much of a surprise. She
was fading pretty fast." Rowan wiped the tears away. "And she wasn't from Elturel so she's going
to a better place." Gloomily she said, "That might be the only way out for us."

Some of us, Pariah thought as she put a comforting arm around Rowan. After a moment, Rowan
said, "It's stupid. I barely knew her. I'm not sure why I'm so upset."

"I liked her," Pariah said. "I'm sorry she's gone."

"Yeah, me too." Wiping her eyes again, she said, "How's Lythienne? Better?"

"Much," Pariah confirmed. "Whatever those things were that came out of the helmet really drained
her energy, but she's back to her old self this morning."

Rowan looked over at her. "Her old old self, or her new old self?"

Pariah was puzzled by the question for a moment, but then realized she was talking about the
change in Lythienne's behavior. "I don't know," she said. "We haven't fought anything, and that
seems to be when it comes out, but probably her new old self."

Rowan frowned. "I wish I knew why she'd changed."

Pariah nodded. "Farima thinks its that weapon she uses, that it got infected by evil or something
like that. I feel like it's just because of where we are. I've got stuff going on in my own head that
I'm having trouble dealing with."

"I've noticed," Rowan said with concern.

"You have?" Pariah replied in surprise. She thought she'd been hiding it better than that.

"You've gotten more withdrawn. You spend a lot of time reading, but not like you are trying to
learn. It feels like you are trying to escape. Maybe I'm wrong..."

Pariah shook her head. "You're not. Reading calms my thoughts. Even shitty books like this one."
She tapped the book she'd been reading. "This place gets in your head. You seem to be doing OK,
though."

"I guess," she said. "I've been praying more." She laughed a little bitterly. "All it took to fix my
faith was going to Hell."

Pariah cocked her head. "Is your faith fixed?"

Rowan stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know. Maybe? A little? I still have some anger. I wanted to
talk to Evyan about that some more. I don't..." She trailed off and made a dismissive gesture.
"Never mind."

"You don't what?" Pariah prompted.

Rowan hesitated, and Pariah was about to drop the subject when the other woman said, "I don't
want to die while I still have doubts about Tymora."

"Well that's...grim," Pariah said.

Rowan shrugged. "Anyhow, Farima seems to be the only one of us who's doing all right."

"I'm not sure she is," Pariah said. "She keeps everything all bottled up. It's hard to tell what she
really feels, even for me. I'm not sure she's comfortable enough with any of us to open up." She
thought about it and said, "She might have confided in Lulu, though I wouldn't want to ask her to
betray Farima's confidence."

Rowan reflected on that. "She might be better protected than the rest of us. Certainly her faith is
stronger, almost blindly so, and maybe that's helping. Evyan and I were talking about that. About
faith, I mean, not about Farima . We're going to need faith to survive. Evyan was suggesting we
might want to have more formal prayer services to help protect us against the pervasive evil around
us."

"Couldn't hurt, I guess," Pariah said.

"And I wonder if Lythienne would let me pray over that sword. I'm not sure that's the source of
what's been going on, but maybe I could do something. I couldn't actually cleanse it like we did the
helm, but I think I can break any power it has over her."

"It's certainly worth a try," Pariah agreed. "I'm afraid that at some point, that anger is going to get
turned on one of us."

"Me, too," Rowan nodded. "Well, shall we go get something to eat?"

"I don't understand why you are all so obsessed with this weapon," Lythienne said angrily.

"We aren't," Rowan said in a calm voice. "I just want to make sure it's safe. This prayer just severs
evil influences. If nothing is wrong with it, then nothing will happen."

The four women and Lulu were in the storeroom where they had been sleeping. Ryland had joined
them for this. Captain Kaas was keeping him on a pretty tight leash, but he was off duty at the
moment and wanted to be present in case it was a repeat of what had happened to the helmet.

Farima said, "I feel this would be better done in the cathedral."

Pariah saw Rowan purse her lips; Farima was behind Rowan and couldn't see the expression.
Patiently Rowan said, "As I already said, I'm appealing to Tymora, not Torm. It wouldn't prove
anything to be in the cathedral. By doing it here, we don't endanger the refugees."

"But the protective ritual you did-"

"I know," Rowan said sharply. This was the third time Farima had tried to convince them to move
to the cathedral. Rowan said in a calmer voice, "But I'd still rather do it here."

She turned back to Lythienne. "It's just a simple prayer. I have to touch the blade but you can still
hold onto it."

Lythienne clenched her teeth and said, "Fine. Go ahead, but this is a waste of time."

Rowan clutched her holy symbol and said, "Lady Tymora, please sever any evil influences this
object has on anyone." She reached out to touch the hilt of the tanto with her metal hand.

There was no dramatic glow of light, and no shadow suddenly came out of the blade and attacked
them. However, Lythienne's eyes suddenly widened and she dropped the blade like it was burning
her. The weapon clattered to the stone floor as Lythienne took a deep breath.

Pariah watched her face and asked, "Are you all right?"

Lythienne met her eyes and then ran her gaze over the rest of them. "Yes," she said. "Yes, I think I
am. My mind is not clouded anymore." She shook her head. "I don't understand what happened.
That was just a weapon I bought from a blacksmith."

Farima said, "I suspect it was caused by that white-scaled devil you killed. I'm not familiar with
that species, but I believe its essence somehow got into the blade and was slowly corrupting you.
Can you tell us what it had you thinking?"

Lythienne knitted her brows as she thought about it. "I was obsessed with keeping it by me. I
wouldn't let it off my person." Sheepishly, she added, "I was convinced that you were all trying to
steal it for yourself. I'm sorry about that."

"That is a common side effect of corrupted items," said Farima. "What about the anger?"

"Anger?" Lythienne asked. "I guess that was only sometimes." She frowned. "In combat. When
somebody hurt me, I was suddenly driven to hurt them back. Vengeance for what they had done."
She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry about the man in the ossuary. You were
right, Farima. We might have been able to save him if I hadn't killed him."

Reluctantly, Farima said, "That was the evil soul in the blade driving you. It is not your fault you
were unable to fight its influence."

Pariah wasn't sure if that remark had been meant a deliberate insult to her moral character or just
Farima being thoughtless. From the way Lythienne's lips tightened, it was obviously she suspected
the former.

"Is this safe now?" Ryland asked, looking down at the sword.

"No," said Rowan. "At least I don't think so. My prayer didn't actually cleanse the evil. That's
much more complicated and more dangerous, as we saw with the helm. All I wanted to do was
break the connection with Lythienne. The weapon is still capable of influencing anyone who
wields it."

"So what should we do with it?"

The group was silent as they thought about it, and then Lulu said, "We should throw it into the
River Styx. Its waters can erase the minds of anyone who comes in contact with it. Maybe it can
erase the corruption as well."

They mulled over that idea. Farima said, "If nothing else, if its at the bottom of the River Styx, it
cannot influence anyone else."

Lythienne nodded. "That makes sense." She started to bend down and reach for the sword. "I'll
just-"

The tension of the room suddenly increased and Lythienne froze. "Or," she said slowly, "one of
you could take it instead."

"That might be best," said Farima. As Lythienne straightened up, Farima took out the same blanket
she had used to protect the helm. She wrapped up the tanto carefully and stowed it in her satchel.
Pariah was glad that had been settled without much conflict. However, there was another matter to
be discussed. "As long as we are alone, I think we need to talk about what we are going to do
now."

"We're going to go to Fort Knucklebone," Lulu said. Then she added, "Aren't we?"

Farima said without enthusiasm, "I suppose that was the advice we received from Torm."

Pariah added, "And from someone else." That got her a sharp look from Farima. "Well, it's true,"
Pariah said defensively. "I know you're not his biggest fan, but we have two immortals telling us to
go down to the surface. And it's your pal who directed us to the helm in the first place."

Farima looked sour but grudgingly admitted, "That is true."

"Down to Avernus," Rowan sighed. "Somehow I just knew that was going to happen."

Lythienne said, "Are we sure that's our best option?"

"Do you have another idea?" Pariah asked.

Lythienne vacillated but finally said, "No, I suppose I don't. Going down there seems foolish, but
staying here is certain death in a few weeks, if not sooner. But I don't see how finding the sword
will help us. It's not like it will break Zariel's hold on this city."

Farima looked at the ceiling pensively. "The vision Acolyte Jynks had said it would be able to cut
through the chains holding this city here."

Pariah said, "Maybe, but that doesn't solve the problem of the contract. Their souls are still damned
in the long run."

"That is true," Farima said gloomily.

Lulu said, "We can find Zariel. Talk to her. Convince her this is wrong. She'll let everyone go. I
know it!"

"Perhaps," said Rowan diplomatically. "But that's probably a long ways off. For now, we have to
get to Fort Knucklebone and I'm not sure how we can do that. We are hundreds of feet in the air."

Farima said, "So we agree that we will follow Torm's guidance to go to meet these kenku and hope
the path after that will be clear."

"Fucking immortals and their puzzles," Pariah sighed.

Rowan said, "We should get one more good night's sleep, I think. It may be a while before we will
be in a place this secure." There was a general mumble of agreement. "Then we can take a look and
see if we can figure out a way for all of us to get down."

Ryland said abruptly, "I'm not going with you."

There was a stunned silence in the room as everyone processed his statement. "What?" said Pariah.
"Why not? You're part of the crew."

He smiled gratefully at her. "I appreciate that. I really do. But, as the captain reminded me, I'm a
Hellrider first. It's what I've wanted to be my whole life. And that means my place is here,
defending Elturel."
 "But Hellriders ride into hell," Pariah said. "It's in the name."

She had meant it as gentle teasing, but her remark seemed to hit a nerve. "I know," he said,
dropping his eyes. "This wasn't an easy decision. I talked to the captain about it. She said I have to
help protect the people here, and she's right. One more sword against all of Avernus isn't going to
matter, but one more sword here might be the difference that lets us hold out long enough for you
to do what you need to do to save Elturel. I have to stay."

Pariah struggled to accept what he said. She had just assumed he'd be along until the end. She was
searching for the words to convince him to go with them when Farima said, "Of course, Ryland.
We understand you have to be true to your loyalties. They are lucky to have you here."

"They are," Rowan agreed. "We wouldn't have made it this far without you."

"Definitely," said Lythienne. "You represent everything the Hellriders aspire to be." She grabbed
him in a tight hug and said, "I wish Evaelisar could have met you. He'd be so proud of you."

That got to him and he started to tear up. Lythienne released him and Rowan put her arms around
him. "I'll pray for you every night. Tymora will watch over you."

Pariah had stood motionless through all of this, her mind still struggling to accept what was
happening. You depend on your crew to survive, and losing one, even by his choice, was
devastating. You stay with your crew through everything no matter what. And yet she also
understood that staying with his crew was exactly what he was doing.

She moved forward and he held out his arms for a hug, but she grabbed him by the shoulder and
whirled him to face way from her. She stepped closer, jabbed the tips of her fingers to his back, and
growled into his ear, "Don't move!"

There was a confused pause, and then she chuckled and said, "Remember? That's how we met."

He laughed in relief, and the others joined in. He said, "That's true. I was so scared. Thought some
thug was going to kill me."

She turned him back to face her and hugged him tightly. "Some thug thought she might have to, but
she's glad she didn't."

After a few seconds she stepped back, and then Lulu flew into his arms. As he held her, tears on
his face, Lulu said, "Don't be sad. We'll be back soon. We'll find Zariel and fix this and everything
will be OK."

Pariah wondered if it would. They had no idea what to expect, no idea what they would be facing,
no idea how to save the city from the ruler of Avernus. And before they faced any of that, they had
to figure out how to descend hundreds of feet into massive armies of devils and demons, and then
travel safely through a brutal battle to reach some kind of hellish junkyard, and then what?

As much as she appreciated Lulu's optimism, it was hard to see any way forward. In the meantime
the best she could do was just take the next step, and for now the next step was getting some
supper.

Chapter End Notes

The tanto was a Sword of Vengeance, in case that wasn't clear. I deliberately set up the
guy in the ossuary to attack Lythienne so she would kill him and demonstrate how
ruthless she was getting. I had to be careful about AOE damage from her fellow PCs
though. It would be awkward to have her attacking other members of her group.
 A Long Fall
Chapter Summary

All signs are leading the group to the surface of Avernus. Although many problems
face them, the most immediate challenge is how to descend five hundred feet into a
raging battle of fiends and survive.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah felt an unpleasant sense of familiarity as they stood on the roof of the cathedral where once
there had been a floating shrine. The shrine was gone now, having fallen down among the
buildings at the base of the bluff the High Hall stood on. Down below, she saw a street, a few
buildings, and the edge of the city that marked the drop to Avernus.

To their left, that edge curved around to meet the bluff face itself. Jumping off the cliff there would
mean a long drop straight into the River Styx and certain death, and yet that's exactly what they
were planning to do. Well, except for the "certain death" part, she hoped.

Farima, Rowan, Lulu and Lythienne were with her, all of them ready to go. Ryland had stayed
below, their goodbyes already said. Ravengard had come along to oversee the operation, and
Munda was there as well. She was the key to this insane plan.

"And you are certain that your spell will protect us?" Farima asked, her voice quaking.

"Yes," said Munda. "You will still fall, but more slowly than normal. I've heard the spell called
feather fall but that's not a good name. You don't float down, but you don't fall all that fast. When
you land, it's about the same force as jumping off a table."

"And you are certain that your spell will protect us?" Farima asked again. Pariah imagined she
didn't even realize she had asked that question four times now.

"Yes," said Munda patiently. "I will cast it, you will jump, use the chains to guide yourself towards
the shore. You will land just fine."

Everyone waited for Farima to ask the question again, but the message seemed to have finally
penetrated. She still looked frightened as she stared down the cliff towards the gap they would be
jumping for. Pariah wasn't surprised by her anxiety, since it been only two days since she had
nearly fallen to her death. However, after a lot of discussion, nobody had come up with a better
idea than to jump off the edge of the city.

Pariah studied the chain they would be following, or at least what she could see of it. It was hard to
judge size at this distance so all she could tell was "really big". She had flown up briefly with Lulu
the day before to get a better view of the situation and had been able to see that the chain led down
to a massive winch on the shore of the river. Surrounding the winch was a force of devils guarding
it. That was going to be the next problem they had to face, and they would have to hope that the
devils were interested in talking.
From this position on the bluff, she couldn't see the winch but she could see what was past it: an
endless stretch of red desert wasteland. Dunes rose and fell among a few outcroppings of red rock
that pushed up above the sand, but little else was visible. Eventually the landscape faded into the
haze of the atmosphere, though she had no idea how far away that was. At the edge of the haze, the
terrain changed to something other than featureless sand, but she couldn't see any details from this
distance.

The shore was lined with warfare. The demons had pushed the devils back from the bank in a
couple of spots and were landing more troops as quickly as they could, while in other places they
attacked directly from the river. There seemed to be no battles directly around the winch, though
she could see fighting a few hundred yards to one side.

"I see the fort," said Ravengard. He was wearing a set of silver goggles with blue-gray lenses and
staring off into the distance. Lulu had pointed the fort out to Pariah but at this distance it was just a
dot in the sand. He said, "I can't tell much. A few buildings. I think I see a road leading to it. I can't
see any movement, but I probably wouldn't at this distance."

He removed the goggles and handed them to Rowan, standing next to him. She put them on and
looked in the direction he was pointing. "I see it," she said. After a moment, she said, "I can't see
anything more than you did, but at least it's something."

She removed the goggles and handed them back to Ravengard, but he put up a hand. "You keep
them," he said. "They are good for distance, which means they will do you more good than they
will do me."

"Oh," Rowan said in surprise. "Thank you."

He had also brought up a pouch that he held out to her. "And this too. We took these off the bodies
of the devils. Some kind of money I think. It might be useful down there."

Rowan took the pouch and looked inside. She raised her eyebrows and handed the bag to Pariah,
saying, "You might as well hold onto these."

Pariah took it and looked inside. It contained another couple hundred of the black stone chits they'd
found. "Thanks," she said to Ravengard as she stowed the pouch in her satchel.

The six of them continued to look out over the landscape but it became clear that they were all just
stalling. "So," Pariah said. "Everyone ready?"

There was a resigned mumbled from the others. "I'll go first," Pariah said. "If for some reason
Munda's spell doesn't seem to be working, I can fly back up safely and we'll figure out something
else."

Farima said to Munda, "Are you certain that your spell-"

"Yes," said Munda, cutting her off.

Lulu said, "Don't worry, Farima. I won't let you fall. You can hold onto me if something happens."

That was the backup plan. If the slow fall spell failed, Lulu would grab Farima, and Pariah would
grab Lythienne and Rowan. They wouldn't be able to hold them up, but they could slow their falls
enough to land safely...they hoped. More importantly, they would pull them over shore so they
didn't fall into the river.

"Let me know when to start," Munda said. "The spell has a short duration. You should be fine to
get to the ground from this height, but you can't dawdle once the spell is cast."

The four of them gathered at the edge, Lulu flying above them. Pariah didn't summon her wings;
that way she could be sure the slow falling spell was working.

"One moment," said Farima. Pariah felt herself becoming impatient with Farima's objections but
then she realized that Farima was taking the wrapped tanto out of her satchel. "We should dispose
of this." She flung the bundle away from her and it tumbled end over end as it fell, eventually
disappearing into the murky water below. "Very well. I am ready."

Rowan said, "Tymora, watch over us and guide us to a safe landing." She turned to Munda and
said, "Go ahead."

Munda nodded. Hesitantly she said, "I'm sorry I can't come with you." The group had asked around
but nobody was willing to accompany them. That wasn't that much of a surprise, though. Jynks had
insisted that Farima take the War Gauntlet, though the Helm of Torm's Sight would remain with
her at the High Hall.

"It's fine," Rowan said to the halfling. "You are needed here. We understand."

"All right," Munda said. "Here we go." She pulled a feather out of a pocket and mumbled some
arcane words as she waved it in their direction. Pariah felt a strange lightness buoying her up.
"That's it," Munda said. "Quickly. Go now."

Pariah realized she wasn't ready after all, but also knew she didn't have time to wait. She had to go
first to assure the others it was safe. Quickly, before she admitted to herself what she was doing,
she leapt off the building and began to fall towards the murky river below.

She felt her fear rising as she dropped through the air. She seemed to be going awfully fast, but she
forced herself to admit that it wasn't as fast as a normal fall would be. She flattened out her body,
trying to get some horizontal movement towards the chains. As she glided towards them, she
pressed her earring and said, "It's working. Come on."

As she neared the black chains she realized "really big" didn't do them justice. Each link was about
three times the width of her spread arms and about six times her height. The metal was dark and, as
she got closer, she realized the links were covered in foot-long barbs. She idly wondered if they
should have just climbed down rather than falling.

The barbs weren't that sharp, and provided useful handholds to grab and pull herself horizontally so
that her fall matched the angle of the chain. She glanced up to see the others had taken the leap and
were about sixty feet above her and moving towards the chain.

Lythienne's voice came over the earring. "Uh oh," she said. "I think we've drawn some attention."

Pariah saw her pointing towards the shoreline so looked in that direction. There were a few flying
shapes darting around above the battle, but two of them were headed in the direction of the falling
mortals. They were vaguely humanoid but only in the sense they had two legs, two arms and a
head. The legs were bird-like, the arms were abnormally long with massive talons on the end, and
the heads looked like deformed vultures. They flew on huge black-feathered wings. She had read
about these things. They were demons called vrocks.

They were clearly on a direct course for the group, and she doubted it was to give a friendly
welcome to the neighborhood. Pariah had already thought about this possibility and knew that
maneuverability would be important. She summoned her wings and they caught the air with a
powerful downbeat, slowing her fall until she was on the same level as the rest of the group.

"Lythienne," Pariah yelled. "You and me, we'll meet them on the far side of the chains. The rest of
you, stay on this side, as far back as you can." They'd still need to use the chains to guide their fall
so they didn't land in the river. Pariah flew over to the far side while Lythienne pulled on the
spikes to direct her fall to the same place. "We need to keep them off the spellcasters," Pariah said.

Lulu flew up between them. "I'll help," she said cheerfully. A cloud of Tymoran coins also floated
over to join them.

As the vrocks closed, Lulu darted out and released a trumpet of sparkling energy. Pariah cringed at
the noise, but it probably wouldn't be heard over the battle raging below them. One of the vrocks
responded to Lulu's challenge with a piercing screech that made Pariah's head ring. She shook off
the effects but she realized that Lythienne hadn't. The elf was shaking her head in confusion and
nearly hit the spiked chains as she fell. Pariah grabbed her arm and beat her wings to tug Lythienne
away from the chains while the other woman recovered from the sonic attack.

The world seemed to slow down around her. She feared for a moment that Levistus had taken an
awkward time to contact her, but she didn't feel the cold in her bones that always accompanied his
visits. She felt more like she was magically energized and moving much faster than everything
else. She didn't know what had happened, but it didn't matter. She knew she had to stop them from
getting past her. She drew the cold into her blade and flew out to face both of them.

From a distance, the vrocks had looked both human-sized and enormous at the same time. She got
a better idea of their true size as she closed with them. They were about half again as tall as she
was, though the massive wingspan made them seem bigger. Pariah knew she couldn't engage them
both so made a beeline for the one on her left. As it saw her approach, it reared back and flapped its
wings at her, releasing a cloud of dark spores. Pariah held her breath the instant before the spores
reached her and none of them got into her mouth or nose, though the cloud made her eyes sting.
The spores dissipated quickly, leaving behind the rank stench of offal.

As the cloud of spores cleared, she saw the thing's claws slashing towards her. She was moving
faster than the world around her but was still barely able to get her arm up on time. The talons
scraped along the ice shield that appeared along her forearm, and then she beat her wings to get out
of the way of its snapping beak. She and the vrock went into a complex flying dance as they both
maneuvered for position. She was smaller and more maneuverable, but she was also an
inexperienced aerialist.

During her maneuvers she got a glimpse of the other vrock. Lythienne had managed to get on its
back, her legs wrapped around its hips. It twisted violently trying to shake her off while she
pounded blows into its back and its head. Rowan's coins were slashing at it and Lulu was harrying
it as best she could.

A flurry of magical bolts from Farima burst into the vrock Pariah was fighting. It whirled on the
spellcaster in anger, but that gave Pariah the opening she had been looking for. She plunged her
rapier into its back. It twisted away and slashed at her, but she folded her wings to let herself drop
out of the path of the blow and landed another stab into its belly. It dove for her but she shot up and
then quickly circled back down, sending the point of her rapier into its skull. The creature melted
into black ichor before Pariah could even pull her blade free, and the noxious fluid dropped away
from her towards the murky river below.

The other vrock shrieked, though it wasn't clear if it was in anger over the death of the first or
frustration with the enemy on its back. Regardless of the reason, the stunning effect of the cry was
enough to cause Lythienne to lose her grip and slip off the creature. It immediately whirled around
 and savagely tore at her limp body with claws and beak.

The fight had caused the group to drift away from the chain and the river was coming up fast.
Pariah shot a beam of cold at the vrock as she closed the distance. She launched a flurry of stabs at
it with a warlike bellow. She wasn't trying to hurt it but rather trying to get its attention off
Lythienne as she recovered from her stunned state. It worked, and now she found herself frantically
blocking and dodging blows from the demon. Lythienne recovered and pushed off the thing,
directing her fall back towards the chains. Magical bolts, spectral coins, and small hollyphant tusks
also harassed it and it frantically lashed around trying to find a target. Pariah didn't know which
was the killing blow, but when the vrock turned to black sludge, she beat her wings to lift herself
above it so the ichor wouldn't touch her.

She did a quick survey of the skies but nothing else seemed to be heading in their direction. She
looked down and realized they had only a few seconds before hitting the water. Lythienne was
back at the chain, using it to guide her fall towards the winch. The winch was on a steep-sided
bluff, and the devils guarding it were watching the falling mortals with their weapons raised.

The more immediate problem was that, during the fight, Rowan and Farima hadn't been able to
keep their horizontal movement up. Lulu was already tugging at Farima, trying to pull her towards
the winch. Pariah dismissed her rapier into nothing and flew towards Rowan. She reached out to
grab her metal hand and struggled to pull her towards the shore. She passed near Farima and
grabbed her collar, helping Lulu pull her along. With only a few feet to spare, they managed to pull
the women over the shoreline and they fell in an unruly pile on the top of the bluff.

The roar of the battle was much greater here, as was the heat and the choking dryness of the air.
The surface of the bluff was hard, red stone, and a winch that stood three times her height was
bolted into the rock with black metal bands. A pair of devils covered in long barbs, fiends like the
one they had fought on the bridge, stood near the winch. Four more were stationed around the edge
of the bluff. Also near the winch was something she hadn't seen before, something horrifying, and
that was saying a lot considering where they were.

It towered over her, twice her height, its form massive but also gaunt and spindly. Its dry skin was
stretched tight over its skeleton, but muscles rippled under the leathery hide. In addition to
unnaturally long limbs, a bony tail arced over its head, ending in a venom-dripping stinger longer
than her arm. Its inhuman skull sported spikes and long teeth. Dots of shining light peered out from
its dark eye sockets. It leaned on a hooked polearm that seemed to be made of bone. From her
studies at Candlekeep, she knew this was an osyluth, also known as a bone devil.

Pariah quickly regained her feet. She held herself in a ready position but didn't summon her sword
yet. The devils watched the newcomers alertly, but they didn't rush to attack and Pariah wasn't
going to strike first. Besides, she didn't see that they had any chance of beating this group, even if
Lythienne hadn't already been badly wounded by the vrock.

The bone devil cocked its head at her curiously. It raised its weapon and rested the polearm on its
shoulder as it lazily ambled over to her and the others. It looked down at Pariah and its mouth split
into a grin of jagged teeth.

"Well," it said in Infernal. "It looks like dinner time."

Chapter End Notes

The goggles are Eyes of the Eagle.

There is disagreement about whether or not feather fall can be cast before falling. The
spell says it can be cast "when you or a creature within 60 feet of you falls", which
implies that target has to already be falling. However, the idea of "jump off the cliff
and then I'll cast the spell" seems a bit absurd, and a lot of DMs rule that you can cast
it before falling. It still lasts only a minute, though. The fall distance is 500 feet, and
the speed is 60 feet/round or 10 feet/second, so that's 50 seconds to fall the entire
distance. That's cutting it close!

It's hard to predict how long this fic is going to be. I have an outline and, based on a
very rough estimate of the length, I'm expecting the final story to be about 86 chapters
and 360k words. This means that, as they finally set foot in Avernus, we are about
halfway through the story. [Note: That was true when I wrote this chapter. As of this
posting, I've finished Chapter 57 and my estimate is now 420k words. It just keeps
growing!]

Here's another little rant about module design.

The module presents two ways to get down from Elturel. The first and most obvious is
to climb down the chains holding the city in place. Climbing down at normal speed
would take about 3 minutes. Once a minute, each character has to make a CON save to
avoid taking necrotic damage from the chains. A character who fails that save has to
make a DEX save to avoid falling. If you fall, you fall into the River Styx and die.

I've done the math. A typical character has only about a 2/3 chance of making all the
saves and surviving the trip. I'm sorry but "roll to avoid instant death" is a terrible
mechanic.

The alternative solution presented in the module is for the PCs to cobble together a
haphazard piece of equipment (glider, parachute, etc.) and trust that to take you down.
The funny thing is that there are NO saves to survive the trip, only saves to build it. So
if this group of people who've never encountered any kind of flying machine in their
life want to improvise one out of junk, they will be guaranteed safe passage down
(barring outside events like, say, a vrock attack).

As a player, it would never occur to me to trust my life to some jury-rigged parachute.

I would just assume the chains were the safer alternative, and yet the saves are pretty
much guaranteed to force someone to roll a new character.

Originally I was going to have them climb down -- that's the main reason Rowan got
her new hand -- and say that the second save caused you to slide down the chains,
taking piercing damage from the spikes rather than instantly dying. However, a feather
fall spell seems like a better solution.
 A Grueling Trek
Chapter Summary

The party has finally reached the surface of Avernus, but now find themselves
surrounded by devils in the middle of a fierce battle.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah looked up at the twisted skeletal head peering down at her. She could barely breathe
through the stench of decay that radiated off of the creature. It ran a dry, leathery tongue over the
tips of its jagged teeth as it considered the fate of this sudden invader. Pariah wasn't sure what
would be the best tactic here, but she knew that a wrong choice would end this trip immediately.

"Back off!" squealed Lulu as she suddenly fluttered in its face. "We aren't afraid of you!"

Speak for yourself, Pariah thought. Lulu was speaking in Common so Pariah didn't know if the
devil could even understand her, but it certainly understood her tone. With a growl it slapped Lulu
down, knocking her out of the air and to the ground. Pariah could feel the others coming to ready
positions behind her.

"Stop!" she said sharply over her shoulder. "Nobody move. You too, Lulu."

She turned back to the devil and, switching to Infernal, said, "We are headed to Fort Knucklebone.
We have no fight with you. We just want to pass."

"No fight?" it said with a dry chuckle. "There is nothing but fighting here. Why should I let you
pass, mortal?"

The devils still weren't attacking, and that was important. She might be in Hell but she recognized
the behavior. This wasn't a fight; it was a shakedown. "We have chits," she said. "Would you let us
pass for a hundred?"

The devil's laugh was louder this time, a laugh that made her tense up even more. "One soul coin
each and we'll let you go."

Pariah's mind raced. She'd negotiated with thugs back in the Outer City. The principle was the
same, though the risk was a little higher. "What else can we offer?" she asked. "You saw we killed
the vrocks, right? Isn't that worth something?"

It snorted. "Weak little demons. I've killed a hundred."

"Maybe we'll kill a few more demons on the way out," she offered.

"Pathetic," it spat. "Like a handful of mortals will change the tide of this battle. I want souls. If you
don't have coins," it bared its teeth, "you can offer yours."

The oppressively hot air around her suddenly grew numbingly cold. Her bones hurt as an intense
chill raced through her, and she found herself on her knees. Her breath fogged as she said, "You
always pick the worst times."

The dark voice said, "You waste time negotiating with servants. I tolerated your delay while you
sought other counsel, only for you to find it put you on the same path I laid out. Walk the path.
Find Haruman, Zariel's general. He is the next step towards saving your city of mortals."

"Where?" she grated out through chattering teeth.

"Find the general," he repeated, "and be granted good fortune rivaling that of the puny goddess
your companion follows. Every moment you delay with these cowardly minions, your city comes
closer to its doom."

"But where is he?" she demanded, but she felt the air warming as he departed. "Talona's tits," she
hissed. "Fucking immortals."

She forced herself back to her feet, not wanting to show weakness in front of the devil. To her
surprise, it had taken two steps back. It was holding the hooked polearm defensively in front of it
and watching her suspiciously. "What just happened?" it demanded. She could hear a quaver in its
voice.

Pariah looked at the other devils on the bluff, and they all looked nervous now. She thought back
to Levistus's words: cowardly minions. She forced a confident smile to her face. "That? Oh, that
was just my pal, Levistus. He was checking in, making sure we'd arrived safely. That we had no
problems." She stepped forward and fixed the bone devil with a firm gaze. "We don't have any
problems, do we?"

The devil studied her, its teeth clenched tightly. She couldn't easily read emotions on the
desiccated skin stretched across its bony face, but she could tell it was considering its decision.
Finally it snorted derisively. "Fine. Leave. Doesn't matter to me. You'll never survive to reach the
fort, especially if you travel with that celestial vermin."

"Wonderful," she said. She didn't move. She waited, staring up at the devil towering over her.
They stubbornly held each other's gaze until it took a grudging step to the side. In Common, she
called over her shoulder, "Let's go." She walked past the devil, not sparing it or any of the others a
glance. Her heart was racing, but she was doing her best to keep a neutral expression.

The ground sloped down towards the expanse of red, sandy wasteland that stretched before them.
The fighting raged to the left and right, but the way ahead seemed clear, at least in comparison to
the battle. There was still an army of devils between them and the road that was their destination,
but these were the rear lines. She heard commanders shouting orders as troops were sent to
reinforce different parts of the main defenses. On a rocky hill behind lines, massive black cannons
fired shells towards the invading demons. She looked over her shoulder to see one of the shells
burst mid-air, raining shining green liquid down on the forces below. She couldn't see the effect,
but guessed it wasn't pleasant.

Ahead she saw five machines covered in spiked black armor moving across the sand with loud
roars. Jagged metal wheels sank into the red sand but found purchase, driving the machines
forward. Devils of varying description were stationed at the vehicles' weapons, while others hung
from the sides. The machines rushed forward without regard to any allies in the way. Infernal
troops scrambled to clear a path, shouting curses at the drivers. Two devils weren't fast enough and
were chewed to pieces as the metal wheels rolled over them.

The machines roared past with a sound so loud it made Pariah's ears hurt. Her companions came up
to walk abreast with her as they pushed on deeper into the devils' camp.
Lulu fluttered around nervously. "I don't like this," she whined.

"Me either," Pariah admitted. "We should be through soon, though."

The devils they passed gave them curious looks but none of them stood to challenge the intruders.
However, she noticed a number of aggressive stares directed at Lulu. Pariah asked, "Lulu, to you
have any way to disguise yourself?"

"No," she said. "I used to be able to turn into a big mammoth but I can't remember how anymore."

Lythienne said, "I could wrap you in illusion. The illusion wouldn't move with you, so someone
would have to carry you. Then I could make it look like you were another creature or a bundle of
blankets or something."

"I don't want to hide from stupid devils," Lulu said.

Farima was studying the surrounding devils as well. "That might be best for us, Lulu. Imagine a
devil walking through Heaven, how many people would stare. How many people might get angry
and wish to fight. Right now, we are very outnumbered. I think you should hide until we get away
from this army."

"Fine," Lulu pouted. She flew into Farima's arms. "But make me something pretty."

Lythienne said, "While she walked through Avernus, Farima appeared to be carrying a flying cat."

Colored lights gathered around Lulu and coalesced into the image of a cat-like creature that was
slightly larger than Lulu so the illusion cloaked her. The animal had yellow fur and folded wings of
dull brown feathers. Pariah frowned in thought for a moment and then remembered where she had
seen such a beast: in the kitchen in Vanthampur Villa. That creature's fur had been dirty white,
while this one was similar to Lulu's golden coloration.

A couple of devils saw the illusion being cast and sat up more alertly, watching the group
guardedly. "Just keep walking," Pariah mumbled. "Act like we belong here."

The bluff worked and the devils didn't pay them much attention after that. The number of fiends
diminished as they got farther from the shore until they reached the edge of the camp. They left the
army behind them and headed out into the featureless Avernian wasteland. Lythienne's cat illusion
expired and, now that there were no devils nearby, Lulu started to fly around the group again.

As they walked into the empty desert, and the devils were no longer an immediate threat, Pariah
paid more attention to the dangers of the environment itself. The oppressive heat had her sweating
heavily under her armor. The air was deadly still, locking the heat around their bodies. The sweat
soaked into the clothing under her armor and was starting to irritate her skin. Remembering a day
of blistered feet on their trip to Candlekeep, she called a halt.

"I need to adjust some things," she said, already breathing hard. She started taking off the pieces of
armor and the clothing underneath, trying to figure out a better arrangement. She had no doubt that
the protection and padding were going to be necessary, but she needed leave some skin exposed so
she could sweat.

She felt self conscious as she stripped off layers. She'd been with the women long enough that she
wasn't all that uncomfortable showing the writing tattooed on her, and she certainly didn't think any
of the fiends would care, but it had been a long time since she'd shown even a scrap of skin below
her neck to the world at large. It was going to take some getting used to, but a little embarrassment
was preferable to heat stroke. She briefly considered restoring her human disguise, but saw no
point. It was inconvenient to maintain it over time, and this was one place where horns and a tail
might make her more accepted by the locals.

Rowan gave her an examination. "You're already getting some red spots," she observed. "It's good
you stopped. Much longer and you'd have broken the skin." She frowned. "But you and me are
going to have some problems with rubbing and sweat rash. We'll have to be careful. Stop when we
need to and let our skin breathe."

Rowan took the time to adjust her armor as well. Pariah was holding her arms out awkwardly,
airing out her armpits while she futilely tried to fan her face with her hands. Farima, her footsteps
crunching in the red gravel, came up to her with a stern look. "What did the evil one say?"

Pariah was confused by the question. Which particular evil one was she talking about? There had
been quite a few so far. After a moment, she realized what Farima was probably asking.
"Levistus?" she asked.

Farima's mouth tightened at the mention of his name. Pariah took that as a "yes".

Pariah said, "He wants us to find a general named Haruman." She frowned in thought. "That was
one of the names in Jynks's vision, right?"

Lythienne said, "Yes. He was one of the generals of Zariel's Three Armies."

Farima asked, "And where is this general?"

Pariah shrugged. "He didn't say. I guess we'll have to ask."

Farima sniffed with derision. "I think we are better served following the vision from Torm."

"Fine with me," Pariah said with another shrug. "How much you want to bet that leads us to
Haruman, though?"

Farima's expression grew even more sour, but she said nothing.

Once Rowan was satisfied with the arrangement of her armor, they resumed their trek with more
skin showing than before. Pariah told herself that, with no sun in the sky, at least they shouldn't
have to worry about sunburn. Unfortunately the exposed skin was a target for clouds of biting and
stinging insets. There wasn't much they could do other than keep swatting them away.

She had debated about resting, but they hadn't been traveling for long. It was hard to tell the
distance to Fort Knucklebone. Rowan had checked the map from Sylvira but the fort wasn't there.
All they could tell was that it was visible from the city, so it couldn't be all that far. That is, if
things like distance and sighting worked here like it did back home, and it was very possible they
didn't. The point is, they decided it would be better to keep walking and hope to reach the fort
sooner rather than later.

The terrain was hard to walk across. They had been wrong about one thing. The ground wasn't
sand; it was a carpet of jagged pebbles that ranged from about the size of a pea up to stones as big
as her fist. Regardless of size, the rocky debris had one thing in common: jagged surfaces. Nothing
had been smoothed by wind or water, so every piece of stone was covered in sharp edges.

Rowan discovered that for herself when she lost footing on the uneven ground and fell. She put her
hands out to break her fall, and when she stood back up her right hand was covered in blood. The
cuts were shallow but abundant. A quick prayer stopped the bleeding, and then she used a little
water to clean up the cuts. They had already nearly drained their water skins due to the relentless
heat and sweating. They weren't worried about running out, since both Farima and Rowan had the
ability to magically summon water, and Rowan could also summon food. She had done that once
for the refugees though there hadn't been enough to make much of a difference in their supplies.
She would be able to feed their own group as needed, though it used up her limited magic to do so.

With that in mind, they kept an eye out for plants and wildlife as they traveled. They had no idea
what, if anything, was actually edible but Rowan had said it would be a good idea to have a backup
to spells if necessary. She could always check anything they found for poison. They spotted a few
unappetizing infernal creatures covered in spikes and scales. Nothing came within crossbow range,
and nothing looked worth chasing.

They had better luck finding flora, though they didn't collect any at the moment. They found a few
cactus-like plants, though they tended towards reds, browns and blacks rather than the green
shades they would have expected, and the spines were so hard they were almost metallic. There
were occasionally low, dense bushes with thick, woody leaves that didn't seem like a promising
food source. They found one bush with a cluster of purple berries hanging inside an opening in the
branches. Something like that might fool an animal, but it screamed "trap" to Pariah. She poked the
berries with the tip of her rapier and wasn't surprised when the branches snapped down on her
blade, ripping it from her grasp. She dismissed the sword and resummoned it in her hand, leaving
the carnivorous bush chewing on nothing. They left the plant alone, reasoning that the berries were
almost certainly poison.

What they didn't see, to Pariah's disappointment, were any plants tall enough to cast shade. She
also didn't see any obvious water sources. Did plants in Avernus need water? Could the party dig
down and find water at the roots? Then again, with the River Styx so close, would any water they
found be safe?

It was impossible to measure time here so there was no way to say how long they had been
walking. They had been traveling the direction they were calling "east", which assumed the top of
their map was "north", although again without a rising and setting sun it was hard to know what
direction anything was. Even more confusing was the fact that these directions didn't match the
layout of the city: Avernian north was Elturian east. Rowan had insisted that map north be north
because that was what they would be using to navigate.

Imposing these directions on the landscape of Avernus, they had been traveling east to reach a road
that they had seen from Elturel. As Pariah's exhaustion and thirst grew, she started to wonder if
they were lost. Maybe Avernus didn't work like her world. Maybe to go east you had to walk west
or north or up. Maybe they were doomed to wander lost in the Avernian wastelands until they
collapsed, their desiccated bones swallowed by the sand. Maybe they-

"I see the road!" Lulu trumpeted, rushing back from one of her scouting flights. Pariah looked in
the direction she had come from but didn't see anything other than air shimmering in the heat and
an undulating red landscape. As she continued to trudge along, her footsteps crunching on the
rocks, she realized that one of the lower undulations was straighter than the others and seemed to
extend far to the left and the right. She blew out a sigh of relief as they crested a low dune and saw
the path.

The road was lower than the surrounding scree, having been cleared of the rocky debris to reveal a
hard but uneven stone surface. They scrambled down the side, spilling sharp gravel into the path
but grateful to have reached one of their goals. To the left -- that would be northwest -- she could
see the dim shape of a mountain emitting a plume of black smoke into the sky. To the right, the
road disappeared into the haze but she thought she could just make out some hills. That should be
the fort.
 Rowan put on the goggles she had gotten from Ravengard and looked down the road. "Something's
there," she said. "I can see a wall and some buildings. Maybe some movement, but the air is
shimmering so much that I'm not sure."

"How far?" Pariah asked.

Rowan looked towards the fort, and then looked back towards Elturel. "I'd say we are about
halfway." She slapped at a bug on her neck.

Pariah held back a groan as she wiped the sweat off her brow. "Well, it's not getting closer while
we stand here," she grumbled. She wanted to stop but decided it was better to cover as much
ground as they could. She hoped something called a fort would be safe, certainly safer than sitting
around in the wilderness. They continued their trek.

The footing on the road was less treacherous than in the wasteland, though the uneven ground
could still be dangerous. Plus there were occasional sprays of gravel that had spilled out onto the
road. Pariah's boots slipped out from under her once, but she caught herself before she fell.
Regardless, travel was less exhausting without the ground constantly shifting underfoot.

At least now she could see their destination slowly growing larger and more distinct in the distance.
The sense of progress helped motivate her to keep going. It didn't seem all that long before they
reached their destination, though she was exhausted and dripping with sweat by this time.

The crude road continued ahead, but a branch to their left climbed a low plateau that rose about
thirty feet above the sea of jagged pebbles that carpeted the wasteland. Atop the plateau was a hill,
an outcropping of rust-colored stone that resembled a hand clawing out of the ground with gaps
between the fingers. The hill was surrounded by a crude wall of rock, bones and metal debris that
looked about ten feet high. The road led up to a gate bound in black metal bands covered in spikes
and mounted to pillars of red stone set into the wall; the gate was currently open. A gatehouse
stood next to it and small figures watched the travelers approach the fort along the road.

As they got closer, the small shapes came alert and stared down at them. They looked a bit like
gnomes, but their limbs seemed twisted and the joints didn't move right. Their movements
reminded her of the awkward motions of the faceless. They had wiry beards that stuck out stiffly
from their faces. The beards were mostly white or brown. Some were red, but not a natural red. It
was more like some type of dye. All of them wore flat leather caps stained with the same red dye.

Pariah counted six of them atop the tower next to the gate, watching the approaching party with
sharp and malevolent eyes. As they grew near, the guards all raised crossbows and pointed them at
the group. One of them called out in a reedy voice, "Tell us the password or we kill you where you
stand!"

Chapter End Notes

Fort Knucklebone will be the larger version from the remix. The plot from this point
forward is going to be very different than any of the source material. Feel free to skip
the rest of these notes. It's a spoiler-free (well, maybe some minor spoilers) discussion
of how I decided to structure the rest of the story.
From here, the module takes the party to a complete dead end. It then offers two paths,
neither of which has any logical reason for the players to go there. Each path is a
railroad of fetch quests that barely relate to each other or anything in the plot, and both
end up at the same place that leads into the endgame.

Avernus as a Sandbox is not a sandbox, but I'll call it the Sandbox for simplicity. It
gets rid of the dead end encounter and creates a better structured railroad. You still
have to go A -> B -> C -> D, but there are three paths between each node to give the
players a little bit of flexibility. It leads to the same endgame.

The Alexandrian Remix is a hexcrawl. It's still not a sandbox -- he quite emphatically
states it's still basically a railroad with the destination of "save Elturel". He also moves
events that are supposed to happen now in Fort Knucklebone to the end of the trip,
giving a different reason for the players to wander Avernus, but leads to the same final
encounter as the others.

Back when the party first entered Elturel, I needed to plan the rest of the story, not
only to start foreshadowing, but also to think about what Levistus wants and how he's
going to guide the players. Unfortunately, the Remix had not published anything about
the hexcrawl yet, so I had no idea where he was going. Instead, I looked at the
Sandbox.

I've created my own path inspired by the Sandbox but with some changes. I've added
some PC-related subplots that will develop alongside the main plot. The party will use
the Remix hexcrawl to follow the Sandbox-inspired railroad and my own story arcs. I
still have a couple of points on the railroad that don't really work, but I'm confident I
can find a solution before I get there.
 A Junkyard Fort
Chapter Summary

The party arrives at Fort Knucklebone only to be met with hostility at the gate.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Six crossbows were trained on the group. "I'm going to count to three," the shriveled, red-capped
guard shrieked in Common, "and if you haven't given the password, we're going to kill you. One!"

Pariah started thinking quickly. She didn't want their first act to be taking on the guards. They
needed information, and this wasn't the way to get it. Besides, who knows how many more were
inside? "We don't know the password," she called up to them. "We just want to talk to some kenku
we think are inside."

"Two!" the redcap shouted.

"Wait!" she yelled. "Just wait. We can pay. Let us inside and we can pay."

The redcap's eyes narrowed and he said, "Thr-"

"What password?" said another redcap, confusion in his voice. "I don't remember a password."

There was an awkward pause. Nobody moved, not the redcaps with the crossbows or the
newcomers standing in the road below. After a moment, a different redcap said, "You mean
'thunderclap'?"

"Don't tell them the password," the first redcap said in disgust.

Another one said, "No, that's the old password. Now it's 'scarlet'."

"Scarlet?" said yet another one derisively. Or maybe it was one who had already spoken. They
were hard to tell apart and Pariah was starting to lose track. "You really think we'd use a password
like 'scarlet'? Isn't that a little obvious?"

The crossbows had all been lowered, and were held loosely as the guards started to argue among
themselves. "We don't have a password. We've never had a password."

"Of course we do. Yesterday, when Smiler came by, he used the password. It was 'I'll cut your
heart out if you don't get out of my way'."

"That's true," said another. "That password usually gets you inside."

"We don't have a password!" one insisted, getting angry.

"Fine!" snapped the first one. "We don't have a password."

Pariah said, "So, can we go in then?"

"No," he snapped. "Devils aren't allowed. Go away, devil."

Pariah started to object, but then another redcap said, "She's not a devil."

"Sure she is. Look at the horns."

The redcap snorted. "Horns? You call those horns? They're fake. Look, you can see the strap under
her chin."

Another one yelled down, saying, "You think that terrible costume can fool us?"

"No devils inside the fort," another one insisted.

"What about Kovik?"

"Well, sure, Kovik. But no others."

"Bitter Breath."

"OK, Bitter Breath too. But not every random-"

"Kolasiah."

"Kolasiah's not a devil, you knob."

"Then why's she covered up all the time?"

"What, you think everyone who's all covered up is a devil? If I put on a hood, would that somehow
magically transform me into a devil?"

"No, I'm just saying that she's all covered up. We can't see her face. That seems like a very devil
thing to do."

"I'm pretty sure tearing you limb from limb while boiling your kidneys and keeping you alive for
centuries is a very devil thing to do, not covering her face."

"Yeah, but that's the kind of thing Mad Maggie'd do, and she's not a devil."

"What? Mad Maggie doesn't cover herself up."

"Not the covering up. The other thing."

Pariah exchanged glances with the others. The redcaps were completely ignoring them now,
having degenerated into a six-way argument. She jerked her head towards the gate and they started
walking towards the opening.

A crossbow bolt struck the stone about two feet in front of her, and a voice said, "And where do
you think you're going?"

She sighed and turned back to the redcaps. "Can we go inside now?"

"No! You have to pay the toll."

"What's the toll," she asked, her patience running thin.

"Ten soul coins."

"Each," another one added. The rest of them guffawed.

"We don't have that," she said.

"Give us that flying thing. She looks like good eating."

Lulu snapped, "Watch your mouth, or I'll come up there and stomp you all flat."

They all laughed nastily. "That would be funny to see," one said.

"You there, the one with the fake devil horns. Take that sword and stab one of your friends. Kill
one of them and the rest can enter."

Pariah wished they would get to the point. "I'm not going to do that," she said tiredly. "What do
you really want?"

"We need to make sure you're not smuggling anything. Strip naked." They all snickered.

Before she could reply, she was startled by a drawn out shriek of agony from within the fort. She
exchanged fearful glances with the others. What kind of horrors were occurring on the other side of
the gate? As the scream faded, it was replaced by a low rumbling. It was almost like the growling
of a massive animal, but much louder and it was continuous.

"Strip, I said!" the redcap shouted down.

Pariah said, "We have chits. What's the real toll?"

"Ten thousand," one replied.

"Each!" yelled another. Again, peals of malicious laughter tore from the group.

The roar from within the fort suddenly grew louder and higher in pitch. She looked through the
gateway and saw a machine come into view. It was a metal cart, similar to the ones they'd seen
near the river. It was smaller than those, but was made of the same black metal and covered in
spikes stained with rust, or possibly blood. It sped towards them at an impossible speed, and they
dove to the side to avoid being run over. She caught a glimpse of creatures aboard but couldn't tell
what they were before it sped off.

"Enough loitering, idiots!" shouted one of the redcaps as the group regained their feet. "Get inside
and stop blocking the road!"

Pariah looked at the others with a sigh, and they walked into the fort, followed by the sound of
jeers and laughter.

Inside the wall was a courtyard. At the far end were the five knuckle-like hills she had seen from a
distance; even up close it looked like the claw of a huge creature looming nearly fifty feet over
them. The rightmost knuckle was spread farther from the others; she mentally designated that the
thumb of the claw. There were four gates, all open, mounted in the spaces between the knuckles
and she could see courtyards beyond. The ground was firm stone littered with a scattering of sharp
pebble debris.

Near the leftmost gate she saw another of the metal carts, bigger than the one that had nearly run
them over, closer in size to the ones they'd seen on the battlefield. At its front, serrated iron teeth
filled a jaw big enough to bite one of them in half. A humanoid sculpture was mounted on the
back, like the figurehead on the prow of a ship. It was an armless torso with a barbed cranked
mounted in its back. It looked like it was made of wax, but it writhed as though it was alive.
Weapon stations were mounted on either side of the helm, one with a harpoon and one with a hose
and nozzle. Aboard the machine she saw two small and wiry male humanoids covered in light fur
and with the heads and tails of rats. They seemed to be cleaning the vehicle. Lounging nearby were
three muscular humanoids -- two male and one female -- covered in short, stiff black fur. Their
heads were pig-like with yellowed tusks jutting out from their lips, and beady eyes that speared the
newcomers with a predatory gaze. They wore crudely tanned hides and carried mauls and huge
axes. One of the males wore a golden circlet with a large, clear gem centered on his forehead. It
didn't look like the headpiece Little One had worn, but it gave Pariah a sad memory of the ogre and
the knowledge that she would probably never see him again.

Between the second and third gates she saw a floating skull with red glowing eye sockets. The skull
was wreathed in green flames. At first she thought it was some kind of morbid decoration, but then
she realized it was in conversation with a tall, slender human woman. The woman's face seemed
young but her hair was gray, tied in a braid that reached past her waist. As Pariah looked more
closely she realized the hair wasn't gray; it was shining silver, a shade she hadn't seen on anyone
other than elves.

What she didn't see were any bird people.

All of the occupants of the courtyard had turned to watch them with an air she recognized. She'd
seen it in her neighborhood many times: size up the newcomers to see if they are victims. Pariah
made sure to stand tall, one hand on her hilt. She decided to approach the human woman, not only
because she was the most familiar species but because Pariah was curious about the skull.

"You speak Common?" Pariah asked her. The guards had, so she hoped others did in this place. She
switched to Infernal and said, "I can also speak Infernal, but I'd rather speak in Common."

The woman studied her with a calculating stare, briefly looking over the rest of the group. As often
happened when they met new people, her longest gaze was reserved for Lulu. She finally said, "I
speak Common."

"We're looking for two kenku who live here. They are named Chukka and Clonk."

The woman cocked her head and furrowed her brows in thought. "I remember those names, but you
won't find them here. They've been dead for a long time, at least three generations."

"Oh no!" said Lulu in disappointment. "I think they were my friends. Are there any other kenku
here?"

The woman's eyes had widened as Lulu spoke. She seemed stunned. After a moment, she said,
"Please repeat that."

Puzzled, Lulu asked again, "Are there any other kenku here?"

The woman frowned in thought. "Say 'I love you'."

There was an awkward pause, and then Lulu said, "What?"

"Say 'I love you'," the woman repeated patiently.

Lulu looked at the others uncertainly and then said to the woman, "I love you?"

The woman gave a knowing smile and exchanged a glance with the skull. "Delightful," she said.
"Fascinating," replied the skull in a cultured male voice. He whistled his "S" and Pariah realized he
was missing one of his front teeth.

The woman pointed to the leftmost gate, the one near the beastmen, and said, "You will find the
kenku in the tinker's shed through that gate." She gave them a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "By
the way, I'm Tasha." She pointed to the second gate. "I run The Well, which you can find through
there. First drink is free for newcomers."

Pariah nodded gratefully and said, "We'll see if we can stop by later."

The group headed towards the far gate. The human-beast hybrids continued to study them; even
the ratmen had stopped their maintenance to watch, their noses twitching as they sniffed the air.
There was an aura of hostility about the beastmen, but they didn't move to block or engage the
newcomers. Pariah pointedly turned her gaze away with an air of dismissal, but still kept her
attention on them in her peripheral vision as she and her companions moved towards the gate.

They passed through the opening without incident to enter the space beyond. Immediately she was
hit with the smell of grease and rust and smoke, and the sharp sound of metal hitting metal. The
courtyard was cluttered with debris of dark iron. She recognized the frames of two more wheeled
vehicles, both without actual wheels at the moment. Some of the other items looked like they might
be vehicle parts or weapons, and the rest just looked like junk. At the far side of the courtyard was
a large cave, and inside the cave she saw another large vehicle. Two black, birdlike humanoids --
the kenku -- were tinkering with the machine. One was underneath it, nothing visible but his
taloned feet, while the other was hammering an assembly near one of the front wheels with a
mallet, apparently trying to force a metal strut into place.

The hillside was peppered with several caves high up off the ground, all reachable by ladders
carved into the stone. At the edge of one of the caves sat another kenku, his legs dangling, a knife
in his hand as he whittled something. This kenku stopped as he saw them enter the courtyard. He
opened his beak and emitted the sound of a braying donkey. Immediately work on the vehicle
stopped. The hammering kenku turned to watch them, while the other crawled out from under the
machine to do the same. Four more bird heads popped out of the caves to see the newcomers.

Pariah approached the two kenku working on the machine. They were shorter than Pariah was, and
she was pretty short. Their heads were covered in feathers that she realized weren't actually black
but very dark reddish-brown, though the red might come from the Avernian light. Their arms and
legs were bare and scaly, ending in sharp talons. Their feet were bare and she noticed they had
three toes, and their hands had three fingers plus a thumb. They all wore loose, sleeveless robes
with no decoration. Massive beaks occupied their entire face, and were flanked by solid black eyes
that reminded Pariah of her own eyes. Those eyes studied her silently as she approached.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," replied the hammer-wielding kenku in Pariah's voice.

"Hi," said the other kenku in the same voice.

Pariah was surprised by that. "Cute trick," she said. She expected them to echo that back but they
just cocked their heads with a jerky motion and stared silently at her.

"We're looking for two kenku named Chukka and Clonk," she said. "Do you know them?"

The kenku with the hammer cocked its head the other way. It opened its beak and made two
strange mechanical sounds. It took Pariah a moment to realize that the first sound was the "chukka"
of a sliding chain and the second was a metallic "clonk".

"Um, yes," she said uncertainly. "I guess that's their names. Are they here?"

The kenku made the "chukka" sound and then the "clonk" sound and then a man's panicked voice
said, "They're all dead!"

Pariah frowned. "Chukka and Clonk are dead?"

The kenku replied, "Um, yes," in Pariah's uncertain voice.

That fit with what the woman outside had said. "Tasha said they've been dead for at least three
generations. Is that right?"

"Um, yes."

Pariah turned to the hollyphant. "Lulu, do you remember anything else."

"No," Lulu said in disappointment. "I just remember the kenku."

The two kenku near them immediately zeroed in on Lulu as she spoke, and hurried forward to be
near her. "I just remember the kenku," one echoed back in her voice.

"I just remember the kenku," said the other. They both seemed excited by something.

"I just remember the kenku," Pariah heard behind her, and she turned to see the other kenku
parroting the same phrase, all of them now scrambling down the ladders.

In moments, they were surrounded by the seven kenku, all focused on Lulu and chanting, "I just
remember the kenku," in her voice.

"What are you doing?" Lulu demanded nervously.

"I love you," said one of the kenku in Lulu's voice. The others picked up the phrase, repeating it
over and over. It was Lulu's voice, but not the same way she had said it to Tasha moments ago.
They were surrounded by a babble of Lulu's voice saying, "I love you."

"Stop it!" Lulu said.

"Stop it!" echoed one of the kenku. They all fell silent, but were still focused on Lulu.

"What's going on?" Pariah asked.

One of the kenku said in Lulu's voice, "I just remember..." and then finished in Pariah's voice,
"...Lulu."

"You remember Lulu?"

Pariah's voice echoed back, "...remember Lulu?" and then a panicked man's voice said, "They're all
dead!"

"Who's dead?" Pariah asked in confusion.

"...the kenku...remember Lulu?...all dead!" said Lulu's voice, Pariah's voice and the panicked man.

"What?" Pariah asked in confusion.

Lythienne stepped in. "The kenku who remember Lulu are all dead?"

"Um, yes," Pariah's voice echoed back.

"Can't you just talk normally?" Pariah asked in frustration.

"No," a man whispered. Then a cracking female voice shrieked, "Cursed!" followed by a few bars
of sad music.

Pariah stared at the kenku. "What?"

Farima said, "Lulu, can you speak with them telepathically?"

"I thought people didn't want me doing that," Lulu said.

"I think it will be fine if they agree." To the kenku, Farima said, "Will that be all right?"

"Um, yes."

"Okay," Lulu said. She concentrated on one of the kenku for a while and then said, "I can't make
sense of anything. It's just a jumble of thoughts."

"Talona's tits," Pariah sighed. "Now what?"

Lythienne said, "Let's think about why we are here. The vision from Torm said to seek the kenku,
who would somehow speak for Lulu's memories of where the Sword of Zariel is."

"Zariel," echoed one of the kenku in Lythienne's voice.

Then another said "Zariel" but it was in the cracking female voice they'd used before. Others
repeated the word in the same voice, different intonations each time as though taken from multiple
conversations. They were surrounded by a babble of the old woman's voice saying "Zariel".

Lythienne said loudly over the din, "Can you help us?" and the chatter died down. "Can you help
us find the Sword of Zariel?" she repeated

"No," a man whispered, and then a reedy voice said, "Mad Maggie."

"Who's Mad Maggie?" Pariah asked.

One of the kenku pointed out the gate. The reedy voice said, "Mad Maggie..." and then Lythienne's
voice said, "...find the Sword of Zariel?"

Lythienne said, "Mad Maggie can help us find the Sword of Zariel."

"Um, yes."

"Lead the way," Lythienne said, gesturing in the direction the kenku had pointed.

The kenku exchanged glances and chattered at each other in a jumble of bird calls, dog-like growls
and barks, and a collection of other sounds ranging from the rumble of thunder to the ding of a
small bell. They seemed agitated, but finally one of them beckoned to the visitors and started to
head to the gate.

The group followed the birdman -- birdwoman? -- through the gate to the outer courtyard. The
beastmen were still there, watching them with a predatory air. The woman and the floating skull
were gone though. The kenku led them to the second gate, the one Tasha had pointed to when
talking about The Well.

Through the gate was another courtyard, about the same size as the first one, and surrounded by
sheer cliff walls. The first thing Pariah noticed was the sound of running water. On the right wall, a
stream of clear water spilled out from a crack in the cliffside, splashing into a pool about three feet
across. Pariah was suddenly painfully aware of how thirsty she was and had trouble tearing her
eyes away from the spring. Beside the spring was a curtained entrance into the hill.

The pool was blocked off from the rest of the courtyard by a wall of junk similar to the outer wall.
Most of the barrier reached over her head, but the section facing the gate was broken up by a low
counter behind which stood the woman she had seen in the courtyard. In front of the bar were five
stools, currently unoccupied. Nearby was a scattering of tables, chairs and benches, all empty
except for a bench of greenish wood that was occupied by a small figure. It looked like one of the
creatures that had been guarding the gatehouse, but its cap was stained black instead of red. It was
staring into a mug of something, muttering angrily to itself.

Pariah saw there was another cave opening at the very back of the courtyard, at the intersection of
the two knuckle hills on each side. Some kind of crude curtain hung down in front of it. Two
corpses stood there, one on each side of the door. At first she thought they were undead, but then
she saw the spike coming out of each head. They were apparently simply impaled there.

The kenku pointed to the cave. It said in Lythienne's voice, "Mad Maggie," and then made a
whimpering sound, like that of a frightened child. It scurried off back out to the main courtyard.

The four women stood just inside the gate, looking over at the ominous cave. A voice said, "You
want that drink before going to your death?"

Pariah turned to see Tasha watching them in that same guarded way. Pariah's throat was even drier
now, so she said, "Sure. Might as well," and headed towards the bar. The others followed.

"Water?" Tasha asked, waving at the spring. "Freshest in Avernus." She smirked. "Or would you
like something stronger to build your nerve?"

Pariah debated but said, "Just water I think." The others agreed.

Tasha looked at Lulu. "Mug or bowl?"

"Mug, please," Lulu replied.

Tasha reached under the bar for five mugs and quickly scooped up water from the pool. She put the
still dripping mugs down on the bar. Pariah picked hers up, intending to take just a sip, but her
thirst overcame her and she drained it without stopping. The water had the rank taste she'd come to
expect from water in Avernus, though maybe a bit less than normal. It was cool but not actually
refreshing. It lessened her thirst in a kind of mechanical and unsatisfying way.

"Oof," she said as she put the empty mug back on the bar. "I guess I needed that." She looked to see
the others had emptied their mugs as well, Lulu having sucked hers up with her trunk to spray into
her mouth.

Pariah said to Tasha, "You said 'go to your deaths'. Is Maggie that bad?"

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Aw, they're so cute at that age," she mumbled to nobody in
particular. More loudly, she said, "Yes she is. And don't call her Maggie. It's Mad Maggie. That's
not a mistake people make twice, mostly because she tears their tongues out after the first time."
 Pariah furrowed her brow, trying to tell if the woman was kidding. "OK," Pariah said slowly.
"We'll remember that. Any other advice?"

"Be respectful. Don't be arrogant. Don't trust her, but you shouldn't trust anyone here."

Lythienne asked, "Including humans who offer us free water?"

Tasha smirked again. "Definitely not. And I'm not human."

"Oh?" Lythienne asked in surprise. "If I might ask, then what are you?"

Tasha didn't take her eyes off Pariah. "She'll kill you if you piss her off. She'll kill you if you steal
from her. She'll kill you if she's bored. Get the picture?"

Pariah nodded. "I think so. Just who is she around here? And what is she?"

"She's the boss, is who she is. For the moment, anyhow. That tends to change every so often. As
for what she is, she's a night hag."

That didn't help Pariah. She asked, "And what's that?"

It was Lythienne who answered, "Twisted creatures of the Feywild, right? Living in haunted
forests, kidnapping babies for their supper. Something like that."

Tasha spared her a glance and nodded. "Exactly. Look, the difference between a hag and a devil is
a devil might make you a good deal. Hags don't. Whatever you need from her, the price is going to
be high, higher than you think."

Been there, done that, Pariah thought to herself. "Not that we don't appreciate it, but why are you
helping us?"

Tasha shrugged, a twinkle in her eye. "If she gets mad and eats your livers, then that's fewer
customers for me. Your next round isn't free."

"Fair enough," Pariah laughed. "Well, I guess we should get this over with. Thanks for the drink.
And the advice."

Tasha nodded at them as they got back to their feet and started towards the cave. She said, "And
don't mind Mickey. He looks scary but he's actually a sweetheart."

They took a few more steps and then she called out, "Oh, and don't worry about the hands. They'll
grope you, but they won't hurt you. Don't attack them."

Pariah furrowed her brow at the puzzling final remark as they continued towards the cave mouth
flanked by rotting corpses.

Chapter End Notes

The kenku situation, in particular the "I love you" thing, was all taken from the remix.
Even though I'm using a shorter timeline -- the remix sets the Charge of the Hellriders
back a couple of centuries -- it still makes sense that the kenku that Lulu met would be
gone. The significance of the phrase will be explained later.

I decided that Lulu's telepathy wouldn't be a magic cure for kenku language limits. I
think that RAW, telepathy would allow normal communication, but where's the fun in
that? I still let her get a little bit of information but it's jumbled and confused. That
seems appropriate to the spirit of the kenku curse.

I actually almost replaced them with something else, reasoning that the kenku mimicry
would be a pain to write. And, to be fair, it was. But it's also kind of fun. I don't think it
works as well in writing as it does verbally -- for example, Kiri in Critical Role was
fun, but Mercer is a professional voice actor so was able to pull it off.
 A Hideous Crone
Chapter Summary

The party is still unsure of the path forward. At the suggestion of the kenku, they have
gone to visit the night hag Mad Maggie in the hopes that she can point them in the
right direction.

Chapter Notes

CW: Graphic Horror and other associated nastiness. I haven't set appropriate tags
because, so far, it's present in just this one chapter. If it becomes a more common
theme, then I'll add the tags.

Mad Maggie is also not politically correct. While it's not so bad in this chapter, she
will be using inappropriate slurs later.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Pariah watched the impaled corpses carefully as they approached the cave. After their experience
in the cemetery, she didn't trust that dead bodies were actually dead. Both bodies seemed
humanoid, or at least not fiendish or monstrous, and both were heavily rotted and covered in
buzzing flies. The one on the right was much smaller, possibly one of the redcaps, but it was too
decomposed to tell.

Surprisingly, the putrid smell didn't hit until they were only a few paces away, but then it hit like a
hammer. She put a hand up to cover her mouth and nose, and she heard gagging noises from the
others as they reacted to the stench. She was so focused on the bodies that she almost didn't notice
the curtain draped across the mouth of the cave.

Actually, curtain might not be the right term. "Bunch of mummified arms" would be more accurate.
They were mounted to the top of the cave entrance by spikes driven through them into the stone.
They ranged in age from disturbingly fresh to unfathomably ancient, but the older ones were dried
and preserved rather than rotten and stinking like the corpses. Like the corpses, the arms were
humanoid rather than monstrous. The cave mouth was low -- even Pariah was going to have to
bend her head to enter -- and the arms hung down across most of the entrance.

Lythienne wondered aloud, "Are these the hands she mentioned?"

Pariah looked over her shoulder to see Tasha at the bar, watching them with a smirk. "Probably."
She had said the hands would grope them but not hurt them. "Well," she sighed, "might as well get
this over with."

She put a hand forward to push aside the dangling arms, and ducked her head to enter the cave. As
soon as she got close, the arms started to reach out for her. She wanted to go for her sword but,
remembering Tasha's warning, held still. Over a dozen mummified hands ran over her face, horns,
neck, shoulders, breasts, back and torso. She squeezed her eyes and mouth shut as inquisitive
fingers probed, and she shivered as a dead fingertip poked into her ear. Her skin crawled and she
ground her teeth against a grunt of disgust while she pushed into the darkness beyond.

She had been worried the hands might grab and restrain her, but they dropped away as she passed
through. She could still feel a shadow of their gruesome caresses on her flesh even after she'd
stepped deeper into the tunnel, and she hoped it was just her imagination. The others stepped
through the curtain with various disgusted expressions on their faces, but they all made it through
unharmed, though Lulu squealed as she was manhandled.

The tunnel was noticeably cooler than the outside, being only unpleasantly warm rather than
oppressively hot. A tunnel stretched before them, its ceiling well over her head. Dark slime oozed
slowly down the stone walls and seeped down into the carpet of fungus on the floor where it
disappeared. There was no light other than what filtered in from the outside, and even that seemed
fainter than could be explained by the shadows of the curtain of arms. Pariah could see dimly,
though she knew the humans would have more trouble. The air smelled foul, a different kind of
foul than the rotting flesh outside. This odor was wet and moldy, like the stench of a garbage pile.

Pariah had lived in worse places than this so wasn't that bothered. The others showed only a little
wrinkling of noses as they looked around -- well, other than Farima that is. Farima stood in the
middle of the tunnel, her arms folded tightly against her body, looking around in revulsion as
though afraid some of this filth was going to touch her. She muttered some words and the tip of her
staff glowed, adding only a little illumination to the scene. Rowan pulled the driftglobe out of her
satchel, said a word, and the globe lit up and floated into a position just over her left shoulder.

The additional light didn't show much because there wasn't much else to see. Pariah could see the
slime was reddish-purple rather than gray, and the mold was a sickly green rather than a different
shade of gray. She could also see that the tunnel continued for a couple of dozen paces and then
turned to the right.

Before she could step forward, a shape moved into the tunnel from around the turn. Pariah
hesitated as her brain struggled to make sense of the horror in front of her. It reminded her of the
haphazard forms of the demons they had seen the sorcerer fighting on their way back to the High
Hall.

Its right leg was insectoid, thick and covered with spiked chitin. The other was slim and bare, with
a backwards knee like a bird's. The right arm was covered in bone plates and ended in a lobster
claw, like the first demon that had come out of the ossuary. The left was longer, reaching almost to
its ankle, but covered in dark fur and ending in clawed fingers. It wore a harness of bags that
obscured its torso. It had the head of a bone devil, but with a thick, tentacle-like tongue hanging out
of its mouth and dripping saliva.

The creature looked at the newcomers and then turned to its left to look down the tunnel around the
corner. It growled and held up four fingers in that direction. It looked back at the group, and then
again to its left, hesitantly raising a fifth finger. It made an interrogatory grunt.

A creaking voice said, "Fine, fine. Let them in." It was the same old woman's voice the kenku had
used.

The creature beckoned to them. Pariah was still stunned by what she was seeing and didn't move;
neither did the others. Impatiently the creature beckoned again with a guttural sound.

Pariah exchanged a glance with Lythienne who had moved to stand next to her. The elf shrugged
and the two women started down the corridor, the others coming up behind. Pariah watched both
the creature and the tunnel suspiciously, but left her weapon in its sheath. The creature watched
them approach. As they got close, it turned to lead them around the corner, its gait clumsy due to
its mismatched legs. It moaned as it walked, which Pariah found unnerving.

The smell of mildew had grown stronger as they proceeded down the corridor. Pariah found herself
breathing through her mouth to try to minimize the smell, but that just meant she could taste the
foulness in the air. She rounded the corner not sure what to expect.

The tunnel opened into a fairly wide natural cave, about the size of the common room of a small
tavern, and dimly illuminated by a lantern hanging from the ceiling. The floor was cluttered with
junk to the point it was hard to see a path through it. It reminded her of Traxigor's lab. She noticed
three cages hanging from the ceiling. Each contained creatures of types she hadn't seen before: a
winged lizard, a monkey-like creature with huge eyes and most of its fur missing, and a long-eared
rodent that stood on its hind legs while its front paws held the bars. All three creatures were gaunt
and watched the newcomers with sad eyes.

What really drew Pariah's gaze was the large table in the middle of the room, the fresh corpse of
the elf man lying across it, and the malformed old woman who was gleefully pulling something
small and meaty out of the corpse's torso. She popped the morsel into her mouth and chewed on it
thoughtfully while she studied the visitors. Two red-eyed ravens also dined on the corpse, one
eating his eye and the other pulling bits of flesh out of a gash in his throat.

Under other circumstances, Pariah might have believed the woman was a human, though a
horrendously disfigured one. Her face was warty and wrinkled. She had blood on her fingers and
around her mouth. Pointed teeth peeked out from her black lips as she noisily chewed with her
mouth open. Blood and spittle dribbled from the corner of her mouth and dripped on her clothing,
though the stain was lost among all the others. Her clothes were tattered and covered in filth and
blood and mold. One eye was locked on the newcomers while the other darted around
independently, looking all around the room. Her gray hair was tangled and matted, with bones
knotted into the strands. Her chin was studded with a few wiry strands of darker hair.

"Guests!" the woman shrieked in delight, startling the ravens, which flew up to land on her
shoulders. "Come in! Come in!" She reached into the corpse and tore out another chunk of meat.
She held out the bloody organ to the group and said, "Hungry?"

Pariah felt the bile rising in her throat and fought to keep it down. That was made harder when
Lythienne suddenly turned and retched loudly. Pariah heard the vomit splatter to the ground and
the sharp smell of stomach acid soon joined the other horrifying smells in the room, but she was
able to keep her own stomach under control.

The crone nodded. "Making room for more, I see. Smart! Come in, sit, eat."

The hag watched them shrewdly, and Pariah could see she was just waiting for a reaction.
Summoning up her courage even as she felt faint, Pariah said as calmly as she could, "No, thank
you. We already ate."

The hag shrugged, shoved the elf flesh into her mouth, and chewed loudly. Around the mouthful
she said indistinctly, "So, what do you want?"

Pariah looked around the cave again, taking a moment to compose herself. The creature from the
tunnel had stepped to the side and was currently standing in a cleared area by the entrance they had
come through. Pariah saw two other exits from the cave, but could not see what was through them.

The hag suddenly stopped chewing, both of her rheumy eyes locked on something over Pariah's
shoulder. She swallowed her current mouthful and said in a sinister croak, "My goodness! Where
did you find such a treasure?"

Pariah looked behind her to see Lulu hovering there. She looked forward again to see the crone
was climbing to her feet. The hag reached down, tore one of the fingers off the corpse and then
shuffled over to the group, her eyes never leaving Lulu. As she got close, she bit off half of the
finger and chewed on it, the bones crunching audibly.

The old woman swallowed and said, "And what's your name, my little golden snack?" Pariah found
herself gagging on the stench of the woman's breath.

"Lulu," the hollyphant said hesitantly. "What's yours?"

The hag smiled widely, revealing a mouth of blood-stained teeth filed to sharp points. "I'm Mad
Maggie, but surely you know that or you wouldn't have come." Her smile snapped into a frown and
her face clouded. "Why are you here?" she demanded angrily.

Lulu seemed overwhelmed and unsure how to answer. Pariah said, "The kenku thought you might
be able to help us."

One of Mad Maggie's eyes swiveled over to look at Pariah while the other stayed on Lulu. "Hmm,"
the crone said. She leaned forward and started sniffing at Pariah. "Hmm," she said again. "I've
never tasted tiefling. Do you taste human or fiendish? Both maybe? Would you let me cut off a
bit? Not much. Just a sliver. Just a snack."

"No," Pariah said firmly. She was trying to hold herself together but being under this creature's
hungry gaze was unsettling her quickly.

Mad Maggie's eye flicked up and down her body. The crone suddenly reached out, grabbed
Pariah's right wrist and raised her arm to examine it. Pariah tried to resist, but the old woman was
shockingly strong. Mad Maggie sniffed up and down her forearm, then extended a tongue covered
in white boils to lick along Pariah's flesh. "Mmmm, tasty. Are you sure you won't let me have just
a nibble?"

Pariah felt panic rising and was unable to speak. Rowan said firmly, "We think you might have
information about Zariel."

Pariah looked to her left. Past Rowan she saw Farima, her face pale in the dim light. She was also
aware of Lythienne to her right, leaning against the wall and half hunched over. However, Rowan
was standing tall. Pariah detected a hint of fear and disgust from her, but she had put on a brave
face. "If you can help us," Rowan said steadily, "then we will be grateful. If not, then we'll be on
our way."

Mad Maggie released Pariah's wrist while she examined Rowan. She slowly put the rest of the elf
finger into her mouth and crunched it. Rowan showed no reaction. Mad Maggie licked the blood
off her fingers as she continued to silently study Rowan.

Rowan frowned. "Well, if we are wasting our time, then we'll go." She started to turn.

"So impatient," cackled Mad Maggie. "So impetuous. So like a priest of Beshaba's uglier twin.
Fortune favors the rude!" Rowan turned back to her but said nothing. The hag grinned crookedly.
"But why ask me about Zariel when you can ask her pet?" She pointed to Lulu.

Pariah wasn't sure if she should be surprised that the hag knew who Lulu was or not. "How do you
know that?"
Maggie shrieked with laughter. "I love you," she mocked. "I love you. I love you." She snarled,
"Those filthy birds chatter that to each other all day. Maddening." She glared at Lulu. "I'd know
that voice anywhere."

"Why do they say that phrase?" Lythienne asked, her voice weak. Pariah glanced over to see she
had straightened up but still looked a bit green. She was not looking at Mad Maggie when she
asked the question.

Pariah couldn't help but ask, "Why do they talk like that?"

Mad Maggie made a dismissive gesture. "Evil curse. Can't talk. Can only imitate. Who cares?"
Angrily she said, "Boring!" Then she smiled sweetly. "But they repeat some things generation after
generation. When I took this place over, they were saying that already." She tapped her head. "But
Mad Maggie is smart. She knew it was important. And she found out." Her grin widened. "Zariel's
ugly little secret. Zariel's missing past." She pierced Lulu with her gaze. "I saw it, and I knew you
had been here before. And I waited for you to come back."

Abruptly, she turned away and started to dig through the piles of junk in the room. "Just a few
pieces. Looked and looked, but I found them. They tell the story. They show the gold-furred
skeleton in her closet. Dead, they thought. No, I said. Alive, I said. Secret, she is."

The group exchanged confused glances as Mad Maggie scuttled through the room, climbing over
piles of debris with surprising agility, snatching scraps of cloth from seemingly random locations in
the garbage. She ended up at the table and laid down the scraps of cloth by the butchered body.
"Come! Look!"

They all hesitated. Mad Maggie turned to look at them, and then made a disgusted sound. "Frail
little baby humans. Afraid of a little corpse." She shoved the body off the table. "There, happy
now? Come here. Look."

Rowan started to pick her way across the debris towards the table. Pariah hesitantly followed, Lulu
by her side. Farima followed as well. Pariah looked back at Lythienne, but the elf shook her head
and stayed where she was.

Mad Maggie had laid out four pieces of a tapestry on the table. She was tapping one with a long
black fingernail. "There. There she is." The pieces were torn and stained but Pariah could make out
most of the images. Mad Maggie was pointing to the depiction of a hollyphant flying next to an
angel wielding a sword. Another piece showed the angel, mounted knights behind her and flames
at her feet. A third piece showed the angel fighting a horde of devils, and in the last the angel knelt
before a robed devil with a scepter.

"There it is," Mad Maggie said proudly. "The fall of Zariel. The corruption of the pure. The
inevitable stain beneath the surface of all beauty and righteousness." She whirled on Lulu. "And
you can tell me about it! You can tell me all about it, what you felt, what she felt, all of the juicy
details about the pain and the despair as Zariel became the monster she was born to be!"

"No!" yelled Lulu with a sob. "You're wrong. You're stupid. Shut up!" She flew out of the cave and
down the tunnel.

Lythienne said, "I'll go after her." She hurried out of the cave after the hollyphant, and Pariah could
feel the relief radiating off of her as she exited.

Mad Maggie watched them go with a satisfied smirk. She said, "But you haven't answered me.
Why ask me about the apostate angel when you could ask the flying rat?"
Pariah realized they might not want to tell her everything, but her mind was still spinning from
everything they'd seen. The stench of Mad Maggie and her surroundings was so strong it was hard
to breathe. Bits of bloody flesh still littered the table. She tore her eyes away from that only to see
the deformed creature standing near the entrance. Her thoughts stuttered as she tried to think about
what to do next.

Rowan said, "We believe there is information about the Sword of Zariel here. We thought the
kenku would know but they told us to come to you."

Mad Maggie stepped forward to stand nose to nose with Rowan. "The Sword of Zariel?" she said
with excitement. Rowan's calm cracked as disgust swept across her face, but she didn't move back.
Mad Maggie cocked her head. "But the beast should know where that is. She was there at the end.
There when she fell. There when the sword was lost. She would-"

Mad Maggie's head snapped to the side with an audible crack of her neck. She glared at the War
Gauntlet. "Ooh, what's this treasure?" She shoved Rowan back, and the priest nearly lost her
balance among the debris but managed to keep her feet. The hag rushed toward Farima and the
woman stumbled back in surprise. Mad Maggie grabbed Farima's arm and pulled the gauntlet
towards her. "Power here. Want it." She licked her lips and then bit down on the gauntlet as though
testing the softness of the metal.

Farima jerked the gauntlet away. "Unhand me, monster! You will not defile this holy artifact with
your touch."

Mad Maggie snarled, "Rude!" She waved a hand and Farima disappeared in a burst of flame. The
cave darkened slightly without the glow of her staff but was still lit dimly by Rowan's driftglobe
and the ceiling lamp. The hag turned back to the other two and said sweetly, "Now, what were we
talking about?"

Pariah's sword appeared in her hand reflexively, even as she was telling herself to hold back. It was
just her and Rowan now, and obviously this crone had power. "What did you do to her?"

Mad Maggie's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who?"

Pariah pointed at the space where Farima had stood. "Her! The woman with the gauntlet."

One of the hag's eyes drifted over to look at the empty space and then back to Pariah. "Oh, that
one? She acted like a child so she's being punished like one."

"Bring her back," Pariah demanded with as much authority as she could muster.

Rowan pressed her earring. "Lythienne, get back here right now. Farima, can you hear me?"

There was only silence from the earring. After a moment they heard running footsteps coming
down the corridor. Lythienne rounded the corner into the cave with Lulu flying next to her. "What
happened?"

There was another cloud of flame and Farima reappeared. Her eyes were wide with fear and she
was covered in sweat. She stood there, panting and frozen, her eyes darting around the room.

Rowan kept watching Mad Maggie, "Farima, are you all right?"

Farima's mouth moved soundlessly. She finally managed to croak out, "Yes." She took a
shuddering breath. "I was in another place. It was..." She stammered but then shook her head
mutely.
 Farima's disappearance and reappearance had shocked Pariah into a kind of mental focus. She
pushed aside the overwhelming thoughts that had paralyzed her. She thought about what Tasha had
said about showing respect and tried to keep her tone calm. "Can you help us find the Sword of
Zariel or not?"

One of Mad Maggie's eyes was locked on Lulu. The other scanned over Pariah. "Very interesting,"
the hag croaked. "Zariel's pet and Levistus's pet working together. But not working for Zariel, I'd
wager. Very, very interesting."

Pariah's composure wavered. "What makes you think Levistus has anything to do with this?"

Mad Maggie laughed a shrieking cackle. "His name is literally written all over you. He's marked
you as his property. Did you think I never learned to read Infernal living in the Hells?"

Pariah pursed her lips. "It doesn't matter. Where is the Sword of Zariel?"

The hag jammed a finger into her nose and dug around as she stared simultaneously at both Lulu
and Pariah. She dug out a blob of mucus and wiped it on her sleeve. "I don't know," she said. "I
know many things about Zariel and her fall, but that I don't know." She cocked her head and
pointed at Lulu. "Why don't you know?"

Again, Pariah wondered how much they should tell her, but she was saved from making the
decision when Lulu mumbled, "I don't remember."

Mad Maggie considered that for a long time and then nodded. "Of course you don't. That makes
sense. Why would you? Oh, he's been a very bad boy. I should have realized. Very, very interesting
visitors you are."

"Who?" Pariah demanded. "Who's been a bad boy?"

"I can find the sword," the hag said. "Well, that is, I can restore her memories. If she knows where
the sword is then she'll know where the sword is."

"You can?" Pariah asked, suspicion rising. "How?"

Mad Maggie waved vaguely towards one of the exits from the cave. "The dream machine. I
acquired it a while back. It allows people to go into dreams, and in our dreams all of our memories
can be found. You will experience her memories for yourself." She made a harsh guttural sound
and then spat out a wad of phlegm at Pariah's feet. "It will take me a bit to get the dream machine
ready. Go make camp. Meet people." She grinned in an unsettling manner. "Make friends. Earn my
good graces." She scowled and barked. "Or don't. I don't care. But I'll tell you when the machine is
ready and we can see what is in the little beast's brain, if anything."

Pariah frowned as she grew suspicious. "And what do you want in return?"

The hag's face split into a wide, toothy smile. "I get to watch."

Chapter End Notes

I feel like I've been a little soft with my depiction of devils so far. I wanted to present
Mad Maggie as something horrible and terrifying. I think I succeeded. I briefly
considered having the elf still be alive as she ate him, but I thought that might be over
the line.
 A Stiff Drink
Chapter Summary

The group recovers from their horrifying encounter with the night hag.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah stumbled out of Mad Maggie's cave in a daze. She barely felt the mummified arms as they
roughly grabbed and caressed her. She pushed through the macabre curtain out into the stifling heat
outside. The scorching air in her lungs was surprisingly refreshing after the horrifying experience
in the cave. She saw the bar across the courtyard and headed towards it.

Tasha carefully watched the group approach. "Need something strong to wash the taste out of your
brain?"

Pariah stared numbly at her and then nodded. The woman reached under the bar and Pariah heard
the clink of glassware. Tasha put five small glasses on the bar and poured a deep brown liquid into
each. Pariah didn't know what it was but at the moment she didn't care. She picked up the glass and
downed the shot. It was vile and seared like liquid fire all the way down. The other women did the
same. Lulu stared at her glass and said, "No, thank you."

Rowan wordlessly reached out for Lulu's shot and downed it as well.

They all sat morosely on the barstools, except for Lulu who sat morosely on the bar's surface.
They stared ahead of them as they tried to process what had happened. Pariah felt the thoughts
buzzing in her head, getting louder. Tasha broke the silence by saying, with sympathy, "Well, five
went in and five came out. That's a win around here."

Pariah snorted derisively, but she also suspected that the woman was right. The whole experience
had been so surreal that she was still struggling to understand it.

Lythienne said glumly, "Who was the elf?" She looked at Tasha. "The elven man in there. Did you
know him?"

Tasha pursed her lips and shook her head. "He came through not too long ago. Said he was from
there." She nodded towards the sky.

Pariah looked over and saw Elturel floating there, the atmosphere making the image blurred and
wavy. "Someone else got out?"

Tasha leaned back and crossed her arms. "He said he climbed down the chains. He was pretty far
gone. Crazy. Demanding." She shook her head. "I told him not to go in there. I figured he wasn't in
the right frame of mind to deal with her, but he was desperate to get back to the Material Plane.
Said he'd do anything. She likes the desperate ones. But you have to ask nicely, and you have to
have something to offer. I doubt he did either. Another round?"

Pariah considered that. She wanted something more, something to dull the memories. She knew
her limit for normal drinks, but she didn't know the strength of this infernal alcohol. "We should
wait," she said to the others as much as to Tasha. "This seems like a bad place to get drunk."

Tasha smirked. "You're not wrong. If you want something weaker, I also have bramblevine ale and
hellwasp honey mead." She frowned in thought. Pointing at each of them in turn, she said.
"Human, elf, tiefling, human, hollyphant, right?"

Pariah was puzzled by the comment. "Uh, yeah, why?"

"It's important to know the species of my customers. Need to be sure I don't poison any of you. In
fact, if you want to try something interesting, I have some very nice ashberry blood wine. It'd kill a
human, but a tiefling could drink it." She hesitated. "Probably."

Pariah raised her eyebrows. "Probably?"

"Well, I mean it's made for devils. I guess it depends on how much fiendish blood you have in
you."

Pariah wasn't sure if the woman was kidding or not, and wasn't really interested in a drink that had
the word "blood" in it. "No thanks. Maybe the ale."

"Sure thing. The rest of you?"

Rowan also ordered the ale. Lythienne decided to try the mead. Farima and Lulu asked for water.

While Tasha served up the drinks, Pariah said, "What is this costing us?"

Tasha ran her eyes over the drinks. "One Knucklebone chit per round should do it."

"Knucklebone chit?"

"Oh, right," Tasha said. "Newcomers. Well, if you don't have any chits, then I can look at any
precious metal coins you have. Or gems or anything else. We can work something out. Information
is also valuable, like telling me what you were talking to Mad Maggie about."

Pariah reached into the satchel, thinking about the money pouch. When she felt it appear next to
her hand, she reached in and grabbed a few black chits. She spread them on the bar. "These?"

Tasha brightened up. "Yes. Having those makes things easier."

"What's a Knucklebone chit?"

Tasha tapped one of the chits, a triangular one inscribed with an eye."That's a Knucklebone chit,
minted by Mad Maggie." She tapped another one, one of the large ovals that showed the portrait of
a man. They were the most common chits. "That's an Emporium chit, minted by Mahadi. I'll take
those, too. I'll take others, but I'll give you less value for them."

"Who's Mahadi?"

"He runs the Wandering Emporium, a traveling marketplace. If you stay in Avernus any length of
time, you'll meet him. He's the core of a lot of the local economy, has his fingers in nearly
everything." Her voice hardened as she said, "Tried to buy this bar once, in fact."

Pariah pushed two of the triangular chits towards her, but left the rest on the bar in case they
ordered more drinks. "Is there any place to stay here?" Mad Maggie had said she'd need a couple of
days to get the machine ready. They hadn't discussed whether they planned to let her tinker with
Lulu's memories yet, but if nothing else they would need some time to plan.
Tasha put her hand on the bar, fingers spread. "The fort looks like this." She tapped the space
between her pinky and ring finger. "That's the tinker's shed, where the kenku live and fix war
machines." She tapped the space between her ring finger and middle finger. "That's here, The Well.
Drinks and food. And the entrance to Mad Maggie's place." She tapped the next space. "The
arcade, where the merchants set up. Run by an imp named Sarcasia, who also runs Mad Maggie's
bank." She tapped the space between her thumb and forefinger. "The hostel. It's just an open space
to camp. No charge; Mad Maggie figures anyone who stays will spend money, and she gets a cut
of every transaction." Finally she waved her finger at the space in front of her fingertips. "The main
courtyard. People park their war machines there. The other areas are behind smaller gates called
knucklebone gates that can be sealed off in the event of an attack."

Pariah studied Tasha's hand as though it were a map. "Are attacks common?"

Tasha withdrew her hand. "Not really. This is supposed to be neutral ground for the warlords, but
every so often one of them gets ambitious. Or someone else decides this would be a valuable
strategic point. In fact Mad Maggie kicked out a bunch of vrocks who had taken the fort over as a
forward base in the Blood War. That certainly earned her some respect from the devils."

"War machines are those big vehicles, right?" Pariah asked. Tasha nodded. Pariah said, "How easy
is it to get one of those? I imagine those are easier than traveling on foot."

Tasha smirked. "The most common way to get one is to kill the people who already have one. You
can buy them, though they aren't cheap. You might be able to find someone who will take you as
passengers, though half the time they just drive you out into nowhere to kill you and take your
stuff."

Pariah sighed. "Any threats in the fort we should be aware of?"

That got a laugh out of Tasha, though not an unkind one. "You get that you're in Avernus, right?
Everything's a threat." Her smile faded. "Keep an eye on the imps. They play pranks, and some of
the pranks are pretty nasty. And watch out for the redcaps and madcaps. They'll turn on you for
nearly anything, sometimes just because they're bored."

Pariah frowned. "Redcaps are the gate guards, right?"

Tasha nodded. "There are more on patrol and they provide internal security as well."

"What are madcaps?"

Tasha jerked her chin towards the lone customer. "The ones with black caps. There aren't many of
them, but give them a wide berth. The redcaps stain their caps by dipping them in the blood of their
enemies. The madcaps dip theirs in demon ichor. It makes them insane, even by redcap standards."
She crossed her arms and said, "Other than that, look out for everyone, especially the war bands.
Lots of people around here are spoiling for a fight."

Pariah sipped at her ale. It was foul but drinkable. "And if a fight breaks out?"

She shrugged. "Nobody really cares. The bodies will get hauled off eventually." She thought about
it. "Well, Mad Maggie might be annoyed if Mickey got killed or if you kill off too many of her
people, but that's about it."

"Who's Mickey?"

Tasha nodded towards the cave. "You probably saw him in there, made up of various demon and
devil parts stitched together. He's Mad Maggie's little project."
Rowan asked, "Is it undead?"

Tasha's face clouded. "Watch it. I like Mickey. A lot of us do. He's a he, not an it. And no, he's not
undead. He's not just a construct either. I'm not sure exactly what he is."

Pariah was talked out. She was tired. She was tired from the fight with the vrocks, tired from the
slog through the heat, and most of all tired from the encounter with the hag. The thoughts in her
head chattered and mumbled to the point she had trouble hearing anything else. She looked at the
rest of the group. Lythienne and Farima still seemed rattled. Lulu was brooding. Rowan didn't look
like she was too badly affected.

Pariah drained her mug. "Maybe we should look for a place to camp." She pushed another token
towards Tasha, thanked her for the help, and swept up the rest of the chits.

"Come on back for food and drink," Tasha said. "I sell travel rations, too."

The group dispiritedly stood and headed towards the gate out to the main courtyard. The beastmen
were present, lounging around their machine. Pariah and her companions headed to the farthest
gate, the one that should lead to the hostel.

The hostel was another open courtyard, though this one larger than the other two they'd seen.
Several fire pits were scattered around, and at the back were three small, crude huts that had the
universal look of outhouses everywhere. Three cave openings, each with a closed door crudely
mounted to the stone, were set into the walls.

A man with sky blue skin sat on his backpack by one of the fire pits, leaning forward to rest his
elbows on his knees. He was whittling a stick, the wood shavings dropping into the unlit fire pit,
though seemed to be doing it out of boredom rather than to make anything. Pariah's attention was
drawn away from him towards the others figures present in the hostel.

Two redcaps flanked a kenku. Both sported the blood-stained headwear that gave them their name,
but Pariah noticed that one didn't wear the flat leather cap the others wore. His hat had a tall,
pointed crown and a wide brim. She wondered if it marked him as some kind of commander. He
shoved the kenku roughly and cackled, "Say it again."

The kenku cowered but said nothing. That seemed to make the redcaps angry. The other one drew
a large sickle and snarled, "He said say it again. Do it or I'll be dipping my cap in your blood." The
kenku just shrank in on itself more.

Pariah felt anger surge in her, and was tempted to let it out on these wicked creatures, but also
didn't want to start a fight so early in their stay. "Farima," she said. "why don't you give those two
things a bath?"

Farima grunted in acknowledgment and reached out her hands. Two globes of water appeared, one
over each redcap's head. The water dropped, drenching them. They whirled in anger to see who had
doused them, only to be faced with the point of Pariah's sword.

"You two," she barked. "Get out. Now!"

The two small figures growled at her, baring yellow teeth from within their bushy beards. Their
eyes wildly darted over the group but they didn't attack. After a moment, they grudgingly backed
up and jogged for the gate. "You have to sleep sometime!" the one with the tall cap yelled over his
shoulder, though Pariah wasn't sure if that had been directed at her or the kenku.

She took a breath to calm herself and lowered her sword before turning to the kenku. It nodded
thanks and then hurried of towards one of the doors. It opened the door with a key it had been
holding, darted through, and slammed the door behind it. Pariah heard the click of the lock
engaging again.

She looked over at the blue-skinned man. He had stopped his whittling, his knife motionless over
the stick he had been carving. He watched her without much interest, but without any obvious
malice. His hair was also blue, so light it was almost white. It hung to his shoulders and stirred as
though in a breeze even though the air was still. He had a thin mustache and goatee of the same
color as his hair. He was dressed in a thin, loose-fitting robe of dull reddish brown and the material
also shifted slightly in a draft she couldn't feel.

Pariah was ready to turn away from him but Farima stepped forward. Hesitantly she said, "Forgive
me, but are you an air genasi?"

He turned to her with a grin. "As a matter of fact I am," he said. "Do I detect a Calishite accent in
your words?" He had the same accent as Farima's, though his was thicker.

"You do," she said, bowing towards him. "I am greatly honored to meet you, rafayam. I am Farima
yr Sameen el Zahra yi Almraiven."

He looked pleasantly surprised. "It has been a long time since I have heard formal naming. I am
called Zephyr Shavar yn Yazdaneh el Soltani yi Suldolphor, and I am pleased to make your
acquaintance, Farima yr Sameen el Zahra yi Almraiven." His grin faded slightly. "Forgive me, is
something wrong?"

Pariah looked at Farima and saw shock on her face. Farima stammered and said, "No, of course
not, Zephyr Shavar yn Yazdaneh el Soltani yi Suldolphor. My apologies. Your name tells quite the
story but, of course, that is none of my business."

He cast his gaze over the others. "And who are your companions, Farima yr Sameen el Zahra yi
Almraiven?"

"This is Lythienne Thalaiel."

Lythienne bowed slightly and said, "Daughter of my mother, Jakiel, from the Tall Trees region of
the High Forest." He raised his eyebrows in surprised delight, and she added, "I have traveled
through Calimshan. I am familiar with the tradition of formal introductions."

The air genasi inclined his head in greeting at her. Farima continued, saying, "This is Rowan
Winesilk."

Rowan seemed confused but, following Lythienne's example, said hesitantly, "Daughter of my
mother, Mirja, from Penstock near Baldur's Gate."

The answer seemed to satisfy the genasi, who nodded at her and then turned to Pariah. Farima said,
"And this is Pariah." She trailed off uncomfortably.

Pariah grimaced in annoyance. "Daughter of nobody, with no family, from nowhere but the slums."

The genasi didn't seem bothered by her answer or her tone. "From such unassuming origins, great
heroes have risen," he said diplomatically.

"She is too modest," said Farima quickly. "She is the daughter of those whose names deserve to be
forgotten for their treachery. She was the matriarch of the family of The Forgotten, and hails from
the Wyrm's Crossing district of Baldur's Gate."
Pariah frowned. She wondered if Farima was being sarcastic, but the woman's tone seemed
genuine.

The air genasi waved towards the ground in front of him, sending a gentle breeze across the
newcomers. "Please, join me. Tell me how such interesting people have come to this terrible
place."

They settled to the ground around the unlit fire, following the genasi's example by sitting on their
packs. Pariah typically took the lead in conversation, but her head was still buzzing with thoughts
so she was happy to let Farima do so. Farima got settled on her pack and laid her staff on the
ground next to her. "We have come from Elturel," she said, pointing to the city in the distant sky.

The genasi turned to look at the city. "Ah, I had heard that someone had come from there." He
turned back, puzzlement on his face. To Lythienne he said, "But I had heard it was just one elf."

"That wasn't me," she said. "That was someone else. We are new here."

"And what brings you here, if it is not too bold of me to ask?"

Farima was the one who answered. "We are seeking a way to save the city," she explained. Pariah
wanted to tell her not to give him all the details. She didn't get a bad feeling from him, but she
didn't have any illusions about where they were, especially after the encounter with Mad Maggie.
She was pleasantly surprised when Farima didn't give any more information, instead saying, "And
what is your business in this dread place, Zephyr Shavar yn Yazdaneh el Soltani yi Suldolphor?"

He smiled indulgently at her. "If I may suggest, Farima yr Sameen el Zahra yi Almraiven, in light
of where we are and the presence of those who may not understand the intricacies of our culture,
perhaps we should be a bit less formal with each other. I have long since abandoned such social
trappings during my time in Avernus. Please, call me Zephyr or Shavar."

Farima pursed her lips ever so slightly. "Yes, I have gotten used to less formal methods of address
during my travels as well." Reluctantly she said, "It would be my honor if you would call me
Farima."

He graced her with a friendly smile. "As for what brings me here, it depends on what you mean by
'here'. I am in Fort Knucklebone because I am a traveler, a humble trader of trinkets and
spellcasting services. For example, if you plan to sleep in this perilous location, for a mere ten
Emporium chits I could offer you a spell that will sound an alarm if anyone enters your camp. Or I
could offer a safe and unassailable, albeit temporary, magical hut for one hundred Emporium
chits." He hesitated and then smiled sheepishly. "Forgive me. We have only just met, and I am
already rudely trying to ply my trade."

Lythienne asked, "And why are you in Avernus? I'm not all that familiar with genasi, but I thought
their homes were more commonly in the elemental planes."

"You would be correct in that thought," he said, "though I, myself, actually made my home in the
Prime. I am here by accident, the result of a portal spell gone wrong. Sadly, leaving is not an easy
task."

"How long have you been here?"

He looked up at the red sky. "I am unsure. What year is it back in the mortal world?"

"1494, by Dale Reckoning."

 Shavar nodded thoughtfully. "That would make it over forty years," he mused. "My how time flies.
Or at least passes strangely. But back to your business, how do you hope to save the city?"

Farima said, "We are unsure. We have been following various paths, hoping to find a solution. Our
companion..." She trailed off as realization hit her. She looked around in alarm. "Where is Lulu?"

Pariah had only been half listening to the conversation but she grew alert at the apprehension in
Farima's voice. She looked around the courtyard but the hollyphant was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter End Notes

This was a seat-of-the-pants transition chapter. I hadn't really planned anything out so
it rambles a bit, but that also fits their state of mind after their encounter with Mad
Maggie. Tasha and The Well are from the remix. Shavar is my own creation.
 A Missing Celestial
Chapter Summary

The party has been getting settled in Fort Knucklebone but has just realized that Lulu
is missing.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah's gaze searched the courtyard. "Lulu?" she called out but there was no answer. The area was
open with nowhere to hide. The openings that led into the hillside all had closed doors, leaving
only the gate leading out into the main courtyard. Then again, Lulu could fly so she could have
gone anywhere.

Lythienne stood. "Did she come with us to the hostel? Does anyone remember her being with us
after the bar?"

The others, including Shavar, had regained their feet as well. Farima said, worry in her voice, "I do
not remember whether she was with us or not. We must find her. This is not a safe place."

Shavar asked, "Who is this companion of yours?"

"A hollyphant," Farima replied. She was looking around, as though hoping Lulu would suddenly
appear in the empty courtyard, so she didn't see the look of confusion on his face.

Rowan said to him, "A small, gold-furred flying celestial elephant."

"Ah," he said, no less confused.

Pariah started towards the gate. "This place isn't that big. Let's look for her."

The other women went with her. Unfortunately, Lulu wasn't in the outer court either. Pariah was
thankful that the beastmen were still present; if they had been gone, she would have feared they
had abducted the hollyphant. "Lulu," Pariah called out, but again there was no answer.
Unfortunately, Lulu didn't have a communication earring like the rest of them.

Lythienne said, "Let's split up. I'll check at the bar."

Farima nodded. "Perhaps she went back to the kenku. I will go there." Both women walked quickly
towards those gates.

Rowan pointed to the one gate they hadn't been through. "I'll check the marketplace Tasha told us
about."

Pariah nodded. "I'll look outside the wall."

As she hurried towards the main gate, she tried to comfort herself that it had been only a few
minutes. How much trouble could Lulu have gotten into in that time? It's not like she would have
done something insane like going back to see the cannibal witch, right? Lulu wouldn't be so
impulsive.

Outside the gate, the road stretched off into the distance, flanked by featureless red wasteland.
"Lulu," she yelled again. She heard the others calling out her name as well.

Something soft and rank-smelling splatted against the left side of her neck. She whirled in surprise,
her sword appearing in her hand, and heard snickering coming from the top of the watchtower. She
glared up to see four of the redcaps peering down at her. The other two had their backs to her, bent
over with their pants down, asses in the air. One was in the process of shitting into his hand.
Sighting between his legs, he flung the stinking mass at her, but it was a clumsy throw that didn't
come close.

Anger rose in her and she considered popping out her wings, flying up there and teaching them a
lesson in manners, but reminded herself that there were six of them and that she had other
priorities. Instead, she said, "Have you seen a flying golden creature come out here?"

"Yeah," one of the bent over ones yelled down. He spread his cheeks. "She flew in here!"

The redcaps laughed nastily and she just turned away, trying to keep herself under control. She
wiped most of the stinking mass off her neck, shaking it off her hand onto the ground. She
sheathed her sword and then turned and started jogging around the wall of the fort with crunching
footsteps. She had gone around the curve of the wall, not even a quarter of the way around, when
she saw a golden shape sitting in the red scree. Her anger at the redcaps faded, replaced by a flood
of relief as she recognized Lulu. She pinched her earring. "I found her. She's outside the wall. She's
fine."

Farima asked, "Why is she outside the wall?"

"I don't know. We'll meet you back at the hostel."

Lulu hadn't looked up at her. She was staring out over the infernal landscape, sadness radiating off
of her like the heat emanating from the rocks.

Pariah walked over and sat down next to her. Lulu didn't react. After a moment, Pariah said, "We
were worried when you ran off."

"Sorry," Lulu said contritely. "The ugly lady was mean. I wanted to get away."

"I understand but it's dangerous to go off alone."

"I know. Sorry." Lulu let out a long sigh and said sadly, "I just want to go home. I want to find
Zariel and take her home."

Pariah didn't know what to say, didn't know how to get Lulu to understand what was really
happening. She looked out through the shimmering air over the red wasteland and watched some
flying creature dive down and come back up with a shape struggling in its claws. As it flew off, she
settled for saying, "I want to go home, too."

They sat in silence but the heat was starting to get to Pariah, not that it was much cooler inside the
fort. Plus the stench of the shit still sticking to the side of her neck was getting stronger. However,
before she could say anything, Lulu said, "Are you going to let her poke around in my memories?"

Pariah raised her eyebrows and looked down at Lulu, who was still staring off into nothing. "It's
not up to me," Pariah said. "I was going to ask you what you thought about it."
Lulu's trunk swatted at a fly that buzzed around her shoulder. "I don't know. I don't want her in
there. She's yucky. But I want to know how to find Zariel." She turned her head to look at Pariah.
"And the sword. The sword is important, but I can't remember why. I still can't remember a lot of
stuff, but when I heard about the sword, I knew it was important."

Pariah wiped the sweat off her face with her shoulder. "Levistus said we should go find Haruman.
He said that would save the city, but I don't know what that means for you and Zariel. Your
memories are more likely to lead to her."

"I guess," Lulu mumbled. "Do you think we can trust her?"

At first Pariah thought she meant Zariel, but then realized she was asking about Mad Maggie.
"Hells no," Pariah said emphatically. "But that doesn't mean we can't do business with her. I just
want to know what she gets out of it. 'I get to watch' wasn't very helpful. Until I know why she
wants to do this, I don't know if we should let her or not." She picked up a handful of gravel and let
it sift between her fingers. "Maybe Farima could understand the magic of her machine and if it's
safe."

"Well," Lulu said slowly, "if Farima said it was all right then I guess I'd probably let her."

Pariah patted her on the back. "None of us want anything to happen to you."

They went back to sitting in silence. After a while, Lulu said, "You are very stinky."

Gravely, Pariah replied, "Yes, yes I am. We should get inside so I can get cleaned up."

They walked back along the wall surrounding the fort until they reached the gate. The redcaps
yelled insults at them but did nothing else, so Pariah ignored them. They entered the fort and
headed for the hostel. The other three women were waiting inside, sitting with Shavar.

"There you are," Lythienne exclaimed happily. The women stood and started to walk over to greet
them and then they stopped as disgust swept across their faces.

Rowan said, "What in the Abyss is that horrible smell?"

Pariah snorted. "The redcaps say 'hi'. Would it be wrong to, you know, murder them all?" She was
mostly kidding.

Shavar approached her, a lavender-shaded cloth held over his mouth and nose. "Those playful
fellows do have rather a crude sense of humor. With your permission, might I clean you up?"

Pariah shrugged, and then as the foulness at her neck squelched she wished she hadn't. "Please,"
she said, trying not to breathe.

He reached out his free hand, mumbled some words in a language Pariah didn't understand, and
Pariah felt the air around her head start to swirl gently. The rank smell that had threatened to
overwhelm her quickly faded. He kept speaking softly into his handkerchief and, as he slowly
lowered his hand, the small whirlwind traveled down her body. She looked down to see the sweat
and grime evaporating from her skin and clothing. When he reached her feet, the wind faded away,
though the genasi's hair and clothing continued to flutter gently.

"Wow," she exclaimed, looking at her hands. Even the dirt under her fingernails was gone. "I'm not
sure I've been this clean in my life. Thank you. What do I owe you?"

Shavar waved her off as he lowered the handkerchief to reveal a smirk. "Normally I'd charge a chit
for that, but I did that for my benefit rather than for yours."

"Fair enough," Pariah laughed.

Farima's face was serious. "Is everything all right?" she asked Lulu.

"It's fine," said the hollyphant. "Sorry for worrying everyone."

Shavar waved towards his camp. "Please, sit. I shall make us some tea."

Farima bowed towards him slightly. "You are too kind, Zephyr Shavar yn Yaz-" She broke off, and
then uncomfortably said, "I mean 'Zephyr Shavar'.'"

He gave her a bright smile. "It is always a pleasure to meet new travelers."

They resumed their seats around the cold fire pit while Shavar started rooting through his pack. He
pulled out a scarred wooden board about two feet square and laid it on the ground as a surface. On
top of that he placed a metal pot with a spout on one edge, and then opened a palm-sized skin
pouch. From the pouch he shook out a small pile of dark, dried leaves into the pot. "It is a bitter
brew," he said, "but I find the natural bitterness of the leaves covers the much less pleasant taste of
everything else in this plane. I'm afraid I am out of honey and milk, though." Pariah wasn't sure if
that was a joke or not.

He took a small stoppered flask out of the side pocket of his pack. It was shaped like a large horn
but appeared to be made of blue ceramic with brass fittings. He muttered something and then
unstopped the flask, which released a wisp of steam. He turned the flask and hot water poured out
into the pot. The flask looked like it held only about as much as a beer mug, but far more water
than that flowed out to fill the pot. He tilted the flask back and stoppered it with another mumble of
words.

Shavar replaced the flask in his pack and retrieved a lid to cover the pot. "If I remember correctly, I
had just asked you how you hoped to save the city."

Farima said, "Our companion, Lulu, may hold the key. We received a divine message that the
answer was contained in her memory. Sadly, large portions of her memory are gone, but she did
remember this place. We had hoped..." Her brow furrowed. "I suppose I'm not sure what we had
hoped. To meet some people here who are apparently long dead, who might have been able to
guide us."

He took out several small cups. They looked to be made of silver but wrapped in leather,
presumably to allow them to be used with hot liquids. "Since those people are not here, what do
you expect to do next?"

Farima started to speak, but Pariah interrupted, "I'm not sure we've decided," she said quickly. "We
shall have to discuss that." Pointedly, she said to Farima, "This is a dangerous land full of
dangerous creatures. We need to be careful."

Farima snorted in displeasure. "While I agree we should not trust the fiends, I do not think we need
to assume that every random traveler is an enemy."

"Nor is everyone a friend," Pariah said, her exasperation growing. While Farima's gullibility could
be frustrating at the best of times, in this place it could be dangerous.

Shavar chuckled politely. "Do not fret, my fair compatriot. I am not offended by the tiefling's
caution. Let us talk of less important things."
Farima glared at Pariah but didn't press the subject. Pariah knew they'd have to find allies if they
were to survive here, but they would have to be very careful who to trust. Honestly, she had been
put off by how friendly both Tasha and Shavar had been. It was not the behavior she expected, and
kind smiles often hid calculating minds.

Lythienne said, "Perhaps we could share less sensitive stories. For example, I could tell you about
my travels in Calimshan."

Shavar beamed. "That would be delightful. Please do."

Lythienne told them that in the years before the Spellplague -- Pariah didn't know what that was,
but gathered it was a long time ago -- she had been part of a troupe of entertainers working their
way south along the Trade Way. They got as far south as the capital city of Calimport before
deciding to turn back and start heading north again. While she wove tales of desert bandits and
silk-clad nobles, Shavar served the tea by pouring it through a strainer. Pariah sipped it cautiously.
At first the bitterness surprised her even though he had warned them about it, but she agreed that it
nearly covered up the foul taste of the water, and she found the bitterness was preferable to the
underlying flavor of the water.

During Lythienne's story, the beastmen from the courtyard came into the hostel and started setting
up a camp. They made no secret about eyeing the newcomers. When Lythienne was done, Pariah
said to the others, "Let's claim a spot." She nodded towards one of the fire pits towards the back
but not too near the latrines nor to the other two camps in the area. "We can figure out our next
move."

Farima looked undecided, but the others seemed agreeable. Pariah stood and nodded to Shavar.
"Thank you for the tea."

He nodded back politely. "If you are interested in my protective spells, please let me know. I shall
take one or two sleeps here before I move on."

They picked up their packs and moved over to the spot Pariah had picked out. As they settled
down, Rowan said, "Shall I make dinner?"

Farima said, "We could invite Zephyr Shavar to join us."

"No," Pariah said quickly, and then regretted speaking so sharply. "I mean we need to talk among
ourselves right now."

Farima scowled at her. "You were very rude to him."

"Yes I was, and I'm not sorry." Pariah paused. "Well, maybe I'm a little sorry, but we have to be
careful here. We can't assume anyone has our best interest at heart. I'm always suspicious of people
who are immediately friendly because they want something. If he's just a merchant looking for
coin, then no harm done, but I want to know that's what he's after."

Lythienne retrieved a mess kit out of her pack. "Considering the coin the fiends deal in, there might
be a little harm done."

"Good point," Pariah agreed, getting out her own eating utensils. "Because anyone who is here is
working with or at least not working against the devils. We can't forget that."

Farima shook her head. "He said himself he's trapped here, like us. Shouldn't we work together?"

Pariah laid out her plate and cup on the ground in front of her. "If he's telling the truth. And even if
he is, don't you think forty years in the Hells has changed him?"

Farima scowled but didn't have an answer for that. Pariah said, "I'm not saying trust no one. I'm just
saying let them earn that trust. In the meantime, be careful, if not for yourself then for the people of
Elturel who are depending on us." She remembered something Farima had said earlier. "Do you
know him?"

Farima was obviously confused by the question. "No I do not. Why do you ask?"

"When he said his name, it bothered you. And I don't mean 'know him' like he's a friend. Do you
know his name?"

"Oh," Farima said, understanding dawning. "No, I do not know him either by acquaintance or
reputation."

Pariah didn't feel like that was an answer, but it was Lythienne who said, "It was his name -- the
structure of it -- that puzzled you."

Farima glanced furtively over at the genasi and lowered her voice. "Well, perhaps. But it is none of
my business."

Pariah tried to keep her voice patient as she said, "What about his name? It might be important to
us."

Farima debated but then said, "It has to do with how our names are structured. My name is Farima
yr Sameen el Zahra yi Almraiven. That means 'Farima, daughter of Sameen of the family Zahra
from the city of Almraiven'."

"OK," Pariah said, thinking that didn't explain anything.

"His name is Zephyr Shavar yn Yazdaneh el Soltani yi Suldolphor. Zephyr is a title; genasi often
take titles related to their elements. The rest of his name is Shavar, son of Yazdaneh of the family
Soltani of the city of Suldolphor."

"OK," Pariah repeated, growing more confused.

Farima continued, "Yazdaneh is a woman's name. Sons normally take their father's name and
daughters take their mother's, as I took the name of my mother, Sameen. A man taking his mother's
name is unusual and implies..." She hesitated, unsure how to continue.

Lythienne said gently, "That his mother didn't know who his father was?"

"No," Farima said, offended. "Well, it can mean that but it may also mean that his father is not part
of the family. Like tieflings, genasi are sometimes born of humans, in this case humans who have
been touched by elemental forces. This can happen if the birth occurs during a powerful elemental
event, such as a tornado, or if born of a human and a half elemental such as a djinn. The structure
of his name implies that his father was a djinn," she cast a sharp look at Lythienne, "presumably
known to his mother but who has not chosen to acknowledge his offspring."

"OK," Pariah said again.

"As for his homeland, the city of Suldolphor was destroyed during the Second Era of Skyfire,
which wasn't all that long ago. Based on his comment about how long he has been here, I'd guess
he was born no more than ten years before the city was destroyed."
"OK." Pariah was still waiting to see how any of this mattered.

Farima pursed her lips. "That is all. It is simply that his name paints a picture of his past. It was
something I found interesting, and yet also a story that is none of my concern. I was...embarrassed
by how much of his private life was revealed by his name. It was as though he had walked into the
room unclothed."

Pariah tried to suppress a smile, though from Farima's stormy expression she obviously hadn't been
successful. "So nothing that is important to us."

"No," Farima said frostily.

Rowan interjected, "Everyone ready?" They had all put their plates out in front of them. Farima had
also put out a plate for Lulu. Rowan held her holy symbol and said, "Lady Tymora, please grant us
the good fortune of a nutritious meal."

The air shimmered above each plate, and then coalesced into stacks of flat, hard, golden biscuits
emblazoned with Tymora's smiling face. The cups all filled with water, and Pariah felt the
waterskin on her hip fill as well. Pariah picked up a biscuit and stared at it gloomily. She had tried
one of these in the High Hall. They tasted like sweaty sawdust with a hint of feet. At least with
goodberries you could just swallow them whole.

Lythienne had already taken a bite and swallowed with a grimace. "We should talk to people about
local wildlife, what can be hunted, if anything. Not that the local flora and fauna is likely to be any
more palatable than this."

Farima's dislike of the meal manifested as little more than a slight tightening of her mouth. "Zephyr
Shavar had a good idea in covering up the vile flavor of local food and drink with the bitterness of
the tea leaves. Perhaps there are local spices and flavorings that can help make food and drink
more palatable."

Lulu had taken a small bite out of a biscuit held in her trunk. "What are we going to do? I don't
want the ugly lady to look at my memories."

Farima said, "Don't you want your memories back?"

"I guess," Lulu said without enthusiasm. "Pariah said you might be able to look at her machine and
tell if it's safe."

"Did she?" Farima said, eyebrows raised. "I'm not sure I would know what I'm looking at."

Around a mouthful of dry biscuit, Pariah said, "You seem to know the most about magic out of all
of us. Maybe you could, I don't know, see how the spell works. Make sure it's not going to control
her or something."

Farima considered that. "I would be willing to examine it, if she will let us." She shuddered. "I will
admit that I am not anxious to go back into her lair."

Lythienne asked hesitantly, "What happened when she sent you away? Where did you go?"

Farima visibly paled. Her mouth moved soundlessly for a moment, and then she shook her head. "I
cannot. It was so alien that I literally cannot form the words to describe it. All I can say is that I
was relieved when I returned from that place to the Nine Hells." She shook herself out of her dark
memory. "In any case, I could examine the machine if she would let me and perhaps gain some
insight."
 Pariah said, "If we didn't want to do that, you-know-who said we should find Haruman. We might
ask around about him, just to have another plan."

Farima scowled. "You know I am reluctant to follow his direction."

"Yes, I know," Pariah said tiredly. "I'm just saying it's another choice."

Lythienne said, "We should ask around about the local situation, just in general. Maybe there are
other solutions that we haven't even thought about."

Rowan was studying her metal hand, moving the fingers back and forth. Absently, she said, "Mad
Maggie said we should do that: ask around, make friends. Since she runs this place, it might be
worth seeing if there is anything we can do to help out."

Pariah said, "And we could ask about her in general. It would help to know what she wants, what
her interest in this is." She frowned in concern. "Rowan, are you all right?"

Rowan looked up in surprise. "Oh, yeah, well probably. It's just my hand. I feel like there's some
kind of grinding in there. Maybe I got a pebble in there when I fell or something. Could you look at
it?"

Pariah remembered that Rowan had wanted her to be available to fix her hand if anything went
wrong. Hesitantly she said, "Yeah, I could look." An idea occurred to her. "Or maybe the kenku.
They seem to be good at machines."

"Maybe," Rowan said, still flexing her fingers. "But I'd rather you looked at it first."

Pariah reflexively looked up at the sky to gauge the hour only to be reminded yet again there was
no sun. "How do they tell time around here?" she wondered aloud. "Well, I guess I don't have to
worry about losing the light, so I can take a look at it now."

"First," Rowan said, "I think we should pray together. That is to say, I'm going to spend some time
in prayer and I invite anyone to pray with me. I think we need all the divine help we can get."

That seemed like a good idea to everyone. They joined hands -- Pariah and Farima each held one of
Lulu's front feet -- and Rowan bowed her head and started to pray.

Chapter End Notes

This was another chapter written with no real plan other than to get them through their
first day in Fort Knucklebone. I will be skipping most of the side quests here since I
don't see that they will add anything to the story. After they leave the fort, we'll get
back to a more structured plot.
 A Strange Theft
Chapter Summary

A new day dawns in Fort Knucklebone. The group keeps busy while waiting to hear
from Mad Maggie about the dream machine.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah looked out into the crimson sky. Although most of her view was blocked by the hills and
walls of the fort, she could see the hazy shape of Elturel, a few creatures flying over the unending
battle along the River Styx, and an odd weather system in the distance. She hadn't seen any clouds
in the Avernian sky before so this storm attracted her attention. It looked to be some kind of
whirlwind that was slowly moving from left to right. She guessed it was miles off so no danger to
them at the moment, but she wondered what it would do to a group traveling in the open.

Lulu was sitting on top of the gatepost that led from the hostel to the main courtyard, staring out
into nothing. Pariah had tried talking to her during her watch shift, the last of the sleep period, but
the hollyphant had been lost in thought and hadn't been interested in conversation.

They had decided to take watches rather than paying for Shavar's alarm spell. The beastmen had
paid for the enchantment, and Pariah had watched with interest has Shavar meticulously laid a long
strand of silver wire around their campsite while sketching symbols in the air. The beastmen were
currently snoring loudly. The air genasi himself had erected an opaque blue dome over his camp
before retiring for sleep.

Rowan and Farima were still asleep on their bedrolls. Rowan was sprawled out on her stomach,
mouth open to emit a thin string of drool. Farima slept on her back with her arms at her sides. Gods,
Pariah thought to herself with a laugh, she even sleeps like she has a stick up her ass. Lythienne
was sitting cross legged, eyes closed, in the trance that elves went into instead of sleep.

Rowan jerked awake with a snort. She sat up groggily and gave Pariah a nod as she wiped her
mouth. "Morning," she said roughly.

"Morning," Pariah replied.

Rowan smacked her lips and reached for her waterskin. She took a drink, made a face, and then
asked, "Nothing happened I gather?"

Pariah shook her head. "Nothing special. Lots of noises, though. Chitters and groans and flaps and
rustles. This place is creepy."

Rowan stretched with a groan. "Yeah. And the nightmares are worse than they were in Elturel."

Pariah nodded gloomily. She had barely been able to sleep because of the dreams. They had been
different than the ones on Elturel. They weren't just frightening; there was also a sense of
something sinister watching hungrily. She almost felt more tired than when she had gone to sleep.

Lythienne opened her eyes. "It is strange," she said, her gaze unfocused. "Even I am plagued by
nightmares. Elves usually do not dream, but these dreams feel like they are forced on me." Her
face was troubled and she had slight dark circles under her eyes.

Rowan took a Tymoran biscuit from the pile that had been left after they had eaten their fill. There
were enough there to feed them through the day. She grimaced as she chewed on one. "The dreams,
the heat, the food -- it makes you understand why the Hellriders..." She trailed off, looking
uncomfortable. "Um, never mind."

Lythienne turned to her. "Why they fled?"

"Yes," Rowan said. "Sorry. That was thoughtless. I'm not awake yet."

"It's all right," Lythienne said. "Honestly, it helps me appreciate why..." Now it was her turn to trail
off as she stared dumbfounded at Rowan. "Did you cut your hair?"

Rowan stopped chewing and looked confused. "What? No, why would I-" She stopped and stared
at Lythienne. "You too. There is a piece missing."

Lythienne put a hand up to her hair and then reached into her bag and withdrew a mirror. Now that
Pariah was looking for it, she could see it. Rowan's hair was still unkempt from sleeping, but she
could see a chunk about two finger-widths across had been cut off. Lythienne's hair was combed
and tied up, and that made it even easier to see the piece that was missing.

"What about Farima?" Rowan asked. The three women crowded around Farima who started to stir.
Pariah could see that she, too, had had a lock of her hair cut off.

"What about me?" Pariah asked. She reached up and felt her Mohawk but couldn't tell.

Rowan studied her. "It looks fine to me. Turn your head. Nope, there it is. You are missing some
from the back."

Farima had sat up by this time. "What is happening?" she asked groggily.

Rowan said, "Someone has cut off pieces of our hair. Who would do that?"

Farima, like Lythienne had, reflexively put a hand up to her hair. She furrowed her brow. "It is
common in some types of magic. It is easier to use certain spells if you have a piece of something:
hair, fingernails, blood and so on."

Pariah looked at her fingernails but they were as ragged and short as usual. They didn't look like
they had been cut. "But we were watching. How could someone have done this? None of you saw
anything, right?"

The women all shook their heads. Farima said, "So someone snuck in unseen." She frowned. "I
believe the barkeep said there are imps here, yes?"

"Yes," agreed Lythienne, still studying her hair in the mirror.

Farima looked around the area. "They are fond of pranks. I suppose this might simply be that,
though their jests are typically more cruel. And they can turn invisible so might have been able to
sneak in." She pursed her lips. "Should we stay longer, it might be advisable to pay for Zephyr
Shavar's alarm enchantment."

Pariah glanced over at the opaque dome that held the air genasi. "Perhaps," she said
diplomatically. She wondered if a wandering mage could turn invisible or even somehow cut hair
remotely. Perhaps he had some nefarious use for the hair of travelers, especially female travelers.
Or he could be in league with the imps for the mundane purpose of drumming up business. She
made a mental note to discuss that possibility with the other women once Farima was out of
earshot, since the latter seemed reluctant to mistrust Shavar.

"Well," she said, "nothing we can do about it now. Maybe we should eat and figure out what we
are doing today."

Pariah had already snacked on some of the biscuits during her watch so, while the other women
ate, she stretched and tried to work out the discomfort from sitting for so long. She rotated her
shoulder, squeezing it with the other hand to feel the muscles move. She still had a twinge when
moving into certain positions but it was getting better. "Farima, how are your ribs?"

Farima took a deep breath and winced. "Better, but still on the mend," she said.

"And your hand, Rowan?" Before they had gone to sleep, Pariah had carefully disassembled part of
Rowan's mechanical hand with the tools the craftsman had provided and, sure enough, a small
piece of grit had gotten lodged inside.

Rowan flexed her hand. "It's good. Thanks for that. I suppose I should find gloves or something to
cover it so that doesn't happen again."

Lythienne brightened slightly. "I would be interested in going to the arcade that Tasha mentioned.
There is something perversely exciting about visiting a market in the Nine Hells. Perhaps they
have gloves."

Lulu fluttered down to join them. "Good morning," she said with less cheerfulness than usual. She
grabbed a biscuit and started eating.

Farima studied Lulu's fur and started running her fingers over it. "Lulu, someone cut off locks of
our hair last night. Are you missing any fur?"

"I don't think so. Who would do that?"

"We do not know," Farima said absently as she continued her examination. "It looks like you were
spared, though."

"Good. Are you going to talk to the ugly lady today?"

Farima leaned back. "I suppose I should," she said with little enthusiasm.

"Should we all go?" Lythienne asked with equal reluctance.

"I do not wish to go alone," Farima said, a slight quaver in her voice.

Pariah said, "Maybe one of us should stay outside with the gauntlet. She seemed a little too
interested in it for my taste."

Farima's eyes widened. "The gauntlet!" she exclaimed and tore open her satchel. She reached inside
and then her face relaxed. She withdrew the War Gauntlet. "It is safe," she sighed as she slipped it
on.

Pariah opened her pack. "That's a point. If someone took our hair, who knows what else they
took?"
They all searched their backpacks and satchels, but nothing appeared to be missing. Lythienne
said, "Well, that's a relief. However, Pariah brings up a good point. It might be better to leave that
outside."

Rowan said, "How about if I go with Farima to see Mad Maggie. We'll both examine the machine,
if she'll let us. Pariah and Lythienne can go to the market or just ask around about things. Lulu,
who do you want to go with?"

Lulu said, "I don't want to go back into her cave. I'll go with Pariah and Lythienne."

Pariah rubbed her hands together. "Sounds like a plan. No reason to wait. Shall we?" Her head was
buzzing again and she was impatient to get moving and distract herself from the dark thoughts and
nightmare memories that plagued her.

They repacked their gear, since it was obviously not safe to leave anything at their campsite. Pariah
caught Rowan staring intently at one of the biscuits. Pariah grinned. "Is Tymora sending you a
message in the baked goods?"

Rowan looked over at her. "Hmm?" Then she laughed. "No, I was just thinking about what you
said about telling time. I know that in the mortal world, these biscuits last a day and then they fall
to dust. I wonder what happens here in Avernus." She tucked the biscuit away. "Maybe it will let
us gauge the time."

"Biscuit clock," Pariah nodded in approval. "I like it."

They headed out through the hostel gate to the main courtyard. The beastmen's vehicle was still
parked off to the side. Two redcaps were searching it while a third kept watch. When he saw them
come out of the hostel, he hissed some kind of warning to the others who scrambled off the
machine to stand there nonchalantly.

"Good luck," Pariah said to Farima and Rowan as they headed for the gate that led to the Well and
to Mad Maggie's lair. She paused when she saw the redcaps eyeing them. "Hold on," she mumbled
to Lythienne, who had started towards the gate to the arcade.

The redcaps muttered among themselves as they watched Farima and Rowan. One of them looked
over and realized Pariah was watching. Pariah glared, clapped the hilt of her sword and shook her
head. The redcap bared his crooked teeth at her, but he said something to the others and they
started to walk towards the main gate.

Just then, the horror they had seen in Mad Maggie's lair came in through the main gate, shuffling
along in his awkward gait and moaning. The redcaps laughed nastily and came up behind him.
They imitated the way he walked and his moans, cackling at the joke. Mickey roared and swung a
hand at them and they scattered out of his way, still snickering. He raised his fist and they darted
out the gate.

Mickey turned away and continued to walk. It looked like he was headed for the tinker's shed.
Pariah continue to watch the way he walked. The fact that his bird leg and his insect leg were
different lengths were obviously part of why he struggled to walk, but she noticed he moaned every
time he stepped down on the bird leg and he seemed to be leaning away from it, as though trying
not to put weight on it.

Pariah debated about whether to help, but then realized how hypocritical she was being. She'd been
on the receiving end of people refusing to help someone who looked like a monster, and she didn't
want to be that kind of person. Rowan had already accompanied Farima out of the main courtyard,
but Pariah knew Lythienne had a little healing magic. "Hey, Mickey," she called out.

The creature stopped and turned his head towards her, his lolling tongue left swaying by the
motion. Pariah walked over to him hesitantly. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

Mickey turned the rest of his body. He lifted the bird leg and pointed to his foot, whimpering.

"Can I look?" Pariah asked. Mickey nodded.

"What are you doing?" Lulu asked. She was staying far away.

Pariah knelt down. "He's hurt."

"He's yucky!"

Pariah turned a stern gaze towards Lulu. "He's hurt!" she repeated sharply. She turned back to look
at his foot. The skin was mottled and calloused. Now that she was closer, she could see something
black sticking out of his skin. It looked like a spike from a barbed devil. The skin around it was red
and swollen. She reached out to touch it and Mickey tensed and groaned.

"Sorry, sorry!" she said quickly as she looked up, ready to defend from an attack. But he was just
looking down at her making little whines.

Pariah looked back at the spike. There was barely any of it sticking out. It would be hard to get a
grip on. She had a few tools but they were mostly aimed at breaking and entering. Then she
remembered the tinker's shed. She turned to Lythienne and Lulu. "Let's take him to the tinker's hut
and see if they have any pliers."

Lythienne was standing by Lulu some distance away, a look of distaste on her face. Pariah
frowned. "What?"

Lythienne said, "I kind of agree with Lulu on this one."

Pariah stood up and said angrily, "Fine, then go shopping. I'm taking him to the kenku. Come on,
Mickey."

She stormed towards the gate leading to the tinker's hut but then slowed down when she realized
Mickey was having trouble keeping up. She looked over her shoulder to wait for him and saw that
Lythienne and Lulu were following hesitantly, still keeping their distance from him.

Four kenku were working in the shed this time. One was working on the large machine they had
seen the other day, another was working on a smaller, two-wheeled vehicle of similar infernal
design, and the last two were tinkering with a harpoon assembly that was not currently mounted to
a vehicle. They all looked up as the group entered.

Pariah looked around at the scattered tools until she spotted what she wanted. She pointed to it and
said to the nearest kenku, "Can I borrow that? I won't take it out of here. I just need it for a
moment."

The kenku tilted his head one way than another. "Um, yes," he said in Pariah's voice.

Pariah grabbed the pair of pliers and knelt down by Mickey. She looked up at him and said, "This
is going to hurt, but I'm going to take this out. You'll feel better when it's done, OK?"

Mickey nodded. She gripped the barb with the pliers and he whimpered a bit when the metal
pressed into the tender flesh around the wound. She pulled back with all her strength. At first the
barb didn't move and she thought the pliers were going to slip, but then suddenly it came out with a
bellow from Mickey.

Lythienne said loudly, "Mickey's pain subsided as his injury healed." Pariah saw the wound close
and the swelling subside. She turned to Lythienne and gave her a grateful nod.

Mickey's slimy tongue wrapped around Pariah's body, jerked her off the ground and pulled her
towards him. She panicked as a lobster claw and a furry arm grappled her in a tight embrace that
made it hard to breathe. Mickey grunted and hooted as he jumped up and down. He suddenly
released her and she fell to the ground, her torso covered in thick drool. She looked up to see his
face split into a horrifying grin, his tongue whipping back and forth like a wagging tail.

Pariah forced a smile. "You're welcome," she choked out as she climbed to her feet. "Uh, see ya
around." She hurried back towards the small gate along with Lythienne and Lulu, while Mickey
headed towards the large machine.

Once they were back in the main courtyard, Pariah looked over her shoulder to be sure Mickey
couldn't see them. She looked down at the slime on her body and shuddered. "Ugh," she said. "I'm
not sorry I helped, but...just...ugh."

Lythienne smirked. "At least we know that Shavar offers bathing services."

Lulu mumbled, "He's icky." She snorted. "Icky Mickey."

"Lulu," Pariah said sternly, "that's not very nice. He hasn't done anything to hurt us."

"I guess," she admitted.

Lythienne wrinkled her nose. "Did you want to get cleaned up or shall we go to the marketplace?"

The odor from the saliva wasn't too bad, about on the level of a couple of days of accumulated
sweat, and certainly nowhere near as bad as redcap shit. "Nah, let's go shopping first. From what
I've seen so far, keeping clean isn't going to be easy here. I can't afford twenty baths a day."

They headed towards the knucklebone gate and through it to the arcade. Much of it was open and
empty, which was common in marketplaces like this. She'd seen it in The Wide in Baldur's Gate. It
gave room for traveling merchants to set up their own stalls. Currently there were only three stalls
set up, and all three looked like permanent displays rather than the temporary arrangements
common to caravans. The residents of the three stalls watched the newcomers.

To the right was a small humanoid covered in green scales that had a few red patches. From the tail
and the snout Pariah recognized him as a kobold. He was idly scratching at one of the red areas on
his scales; Pariah knew the redness was a common sign of parasites on scaly-skinned people. The
kobold was sitting on a stool behind a table piled with junk. His left foot was missing, nothing left
but a lump of scar tissue at the end of his calf, and she noticed a pair of crutches leaning against the
wall behind him next to a door leading into the hill.

To the left was an emaciated gnome woman dressed in rags. The skin on her face was red and
peeling, and her short, brown hair was missing in patches. There was something odd about her eyes
but Pariah couldn't tell what it was at this distance. The table in front of her was empty but
underneath the table was a closed chest and behind her was the distinctive apparatus of an
alchemist. She also had a door set into the rock wall behind her.

At the far end was a red and black skinned imp, currently picking its teeth with a small knife. The
table in front of it had a heavy iron box set to the side, and the door behind it was also made of iron
and had two heavy locks. Nailed to the front of the table was a sign with the word "Bank" in a
dozen languages, and a crude drawing of a pile of coins for those who couldn't read.

Pariah also saw two brown lines painted on the ground, one around each of the side stalls. There
seemed to be something written along the lines but she was too far away to read it.

"Potions, spices and teas," called out the gnome in a high-pitched voice. "Any magical concoction
you can imagine."

"Ha!" spat the kobold with a growl. "Poison that'll eat your insides and make you shit blood. I got
good salvage here. Weapons, armor, jewelry. Valuable stuff."

"Junk stolen from corpses," sneered the gnome.

"Better'n swill taken outta the outhouse," replied the kobold hotly.

"Hobble over here and say that, you cripple," shouted the gnome, leaping to her feet. "I'll take your
other foot. I've been wanting some fresh kobold stew."

"Why don't you come over here, you blind...blindie," the kobold stammered. "I'll take your other...I
mean I'll take your whole head this time. And eat it. After shitting in it."

The gnome guffawed. "You're going to eat my head after shitting in it? You're even more
disgusting than I thought."

"No," the kobold retorted, embarrassed. "I mean...I mean I'll eat out your brain and then shit in the
hole. Just come over here and I'll show you." He brandished one of his crutches.

"Enough!" bellowed the imp, though it was less of a bellow than it was a loud growl. "You two
shut up or I'll call Mad Maggie over."

The gnome and the kobold glared at each other but didn't say anything more. The gnome sat down,
put a smile on her face and turned to the stunned newcomers. "Potions, spices and teas. Come see
my selection."

"Weapons, armor, and other good stuff," the kobold said through gritted teeth.

Pariah and Lythienne exchanged an amused glance. "Potions?" she said. Lythienne nodded.

As they approached the alchemist, Pariah realized what looked so strange about her eyes: they
weren't there. From the scars around her eye sockets, they had been taken forcefully. Pariah's
amusement fled. She had to stop forgetting where they were.

"Welcome to my shop," the gnome woman said, cocking her head to listen. Her brow furrowed as
Lulu landed on the table. "What interesting customers you are," she said thoughtfully. "My name is
Linci. How may I help you?"

The kobold snorted. "Blind Linci," he mumbled in a voice clearly meant to be heard.

Anger flashed across her face. "You mean 'Linci Koboldbutcher'," she said back.

"You got lucky!" the kobold retorted. "Attacked me in my sleep. You'd never beat me awake,
cause I'm Degs the...uh...Gnome-Eye-Poker-Outer." He bared his teeth with a growl.

"That's it!" Linci snapped. She reached under the table and pulled a scimitar out from a hidden
 sheath. "Kobold stew for supper!"

She skirted around the table and charged towards the kobold's stall as Pariah and Lythienne leapt
out of the way. As the gnome reached the brown line, the air in front of her flashed, throwing her
backwards onto the ground.

The kobold shrieked with laughter. "Blind and stupid, you blind, stupid...uh...idiot."

Linci climbed back to her feet, her face red with anger. "You! Strangers! I'll give you a hundred
Knucklebone chits to kill that diseased lizard."

"Two hundred!" the kobold shrieked. "Two hundred to kill her."

"Five hundred!" she yelled back.

"Like you have five hundred chits," the kobold scoffed.

Pariah looked over at the imp, who was just sitting there with its face in its hands, shaking its head
in defeat. Pariah was about to suggest that they retreat and come back another day when bands of
yellow energy wrapped around the two merchants, binding and gagging them.

"I have a better proposal," came a man's voice from behind them. "I'll happily kill you both for free
if you do not be quiet!"

Pariah turned to see Shavar standing a short distance behind them, his arms raised in a spellcasting
gesture. He was smiling but his eyes were hard.

He nodded a greeting to Pariah, Lulu and Lythienne. "It is good to see you again, my friends. Give
me a moment to set up my store and let us do some business this fine day."

Chapter End Notes

Sarcasia is from the remix; the other two are my own creation. They weren't originally
meant to have such...personality, but these things sometimes have a life of their own. I
arbitrarily decided to have two permanent merchants. I started by randomly rolling a
female dwarf. I wanted something monstrous for the other merchant and ended up
deciding on a kobold. Oh, but kobolds hate gnomes, so the dwarf became a gnome. I
rolled up a random description for the gnome, and it came up that she was blind. That
made me think her eyes had been gouged out, and I thought that could be a sign of just
how violent their rivalry is. So I had to add the kobold missing a foot, and now you
have a bloody feud between two maimed vendors.
 A Local Bar
Chapter Summary

After a morning helping Mickey with his injury, and witnessing a vicious fight in the
arcade, the group dreads what the afternoon might bring.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

As Pariah and Lythienne exited the arcade into the main courtyard, they heard the kobold yell from
behind them, "I know you told them lies about me. Why else wouldn't they buy?"

The gnome snapped back, "Because they didn't want to buy rusty junk!"

They heard the pop of electricity, the yelps of a gnome and a kobold, and then Shavar saying
firmly, "That's enough!"

Pariah exchanged a glance with Lythienne and they paused, but the arcade was silent after that. She
didn't know if that meant the bickering vendors had decided to stop, or if Shavar had finally
snapped and killed them. It was also possible that the two had charged at each other only to be
knocked out by the barriers Mad Maggie had set up to keep them from killing each other.

Lythienne continued their conversation. "So it's a jar of magical vinegar?"

Pariah laughed. "No, no. It's a magical jar that can pour out vinegar or water or beer or a bunch of
other things. It refills every day." Shavar had shown them an interesting collection of magical
trinkets, and Pariah had figured something like this might be useful out in the wastelands, far from
any market.

Lythienne looked at the large ceramic jar skeptically as Pariah struggled to fit it into the magical
satchel. It was almost too large for the bag's opening but she was just able to slip it inside. Pariah
told her, "He said I can get my money back tomorrow if it doesn't refill."

Lulu was trotting along behind them. "I don't think he'd cheat. He seemed nice."

"Yes, he did," Pariah agreed, though that didn't mean she trusted him. Successful merchants always
'seemed nice'. She added, "If nothing else, I saw him pour out far more liquid than the jug could
contain."

"Like the water flask he has," Lythienne observed.

"Yes. He said it's the same kind of magic, but the water flask only pours water. This pours a lot of
things."

"I suppose that could be useful," Lythienne said hesitantly.

"If nothing else, a water supply means Rowan and Farima don't have to waste magic and we don't
have to drink from suspicious water holes." She teased, "Besides, it's better than a jar of grease."
"It's not grease," Lythienne chuckled. "It's a magical oil flask. Smash it and it covers the ground,
making it slippery. That could be useful. And the spices and teas I bought should make our meals
less horrible."

"But no gloves for Rowan," Pariah said in disappointment. "I guess she'll just have to be as careful
as she can for now."

They were standing in the main courtyard. The beastmen looked like they were loading up their
war machine. They didn't seem to be watching Pariah and the others anymore. However, two of the
redcaps in the gate house were looking down at her and whispering to each other.

"Shall we go to the Well until Farima and Rowan get done?" Pariah suggested.

"I like the sound of that," Lythienne agreed.

They went through the gate to the Well and saw the same madcap they had seen the day before,
though he was sitting at a different table. They saw a pair of kenku sitting at the farthest table from
him. In front of them was a platter, empty other than bones and the stones of some kind of fruit.
Tasha was behind the bar and Pariah was surprised to see Rowan and Farima sitting on barstools,
hunched over drinks.

Pariah came up to them. "That was fast," she said. "How'd it go?"

The two women turned to her with haunted looks on their faces. "It wasn't so bad," said Rowan,
though her expression said otherwise. "No worse than before anyhow."

Pariah and Lythienne took their seats while Lulu fluttered up to stand on the bar. Pariah ordered
ale, Lythienne mead, and Lulu water. Pariah said to Farima, "Did you find out anything?"

Farima stared into her mug. "It is dark magic, that is certain. The machine itself is complicated but I
was able to see its function. It does seem to be the magic of divination rather than enchantment, so
I am reasonably confident that it does what she says: it will reveal memories, not control minds."

Rowan said, "It doesn't give off any evil energies, though neither does a jar of poison."

Neither woman sounded particularly confident, not that Pariah had expected either to be
enthusiastic about a night hag looking into someone's mind. Lulu asked, "Do you think it's safe?"

Farima and Rowan were both quiet for a long time. Rowan finally said, "I guess we just don't
know. I'm sorry, Lulu, but we don't have a good answer for that." She took a drink of her ale.

Farima's mouth tightened. "I am reluctant to believe that Torm would have sent us here if this was
not our path, and yet he did not send us to this hag." She breathed out a long breath. "I wish we had
better guidance."

Tasha was leaning against the wall, openly listening to the conversation. Pariah looked at her and
said, "You seem to know something about Mad Maggie. What do you think?"

Tasha met her gaze as she thought about her answer. "It's hard to tell without knowing more. I'm
not sure what you've asked her to do. But I will say this: if a hag wants into your mind, it takes
powerful magic to keep her out. She doesn't need your permission." She gave a one-sided smile as
she ran her eyes over the group. "I notice you've met the local barbers."

Pariah sat up straighter. "What does that mean?"

"Pins and Needles," she said, as though that explained everything.

"Huh?" Pariah said.

"Those are two of her imps. They are always around, usually invisible. They spy for her, steal for
her, and sometimes get locks of hair for her."

Pariah was getting impatient with the woman's obtuse comments, but then Farima said, "She uses
the hair for her magic? To get into our minds?"

Tasha made an indecisive noise. "Well, into your dreams, anyhow. She can do it without a personal
object, but it's easier when she has one."

Lulu said, "But I don't dream. I don't sleep."

"We all dream. The hags can get in to your daydreams, though it's harder. She'll get what she wants
one way or another."

"I don't like her," Lulu said emphatically.

"Nobody does," Tasha nodded.

Rowan said, "But then what does she need that machine for?"

Tasha shrugged. "I still am not sure what we are talking about. I don't know about any machine."
Her comment seemed to be serious, not sarcastic.

Pariah debated about how much to tell her, but Lulu charged ahead. "I lost my memory. She says
she can get it back."

Tasha's eyebrows climbed high. "And why would she care about your memory?"

Pariah tried to speak before Lulu, but the hollyphant said, "We are looking for the Sword of Zariel
and I might know where it is. But I forget."

"Lulu," Pariah chided gently. "Sometimes we don't want to share our secrets with every random
stranger."

Tasha ignored her. She stared in wonder at Lulu. "Well that explains a lot," she said, mostly to
herself.

Pariah scratched a fingernail against the bar absentmindedly. "How does that explain things?"

"Mad Maggie is obsessed with Zariel. Hags are generally fascinated by corruption of the innocent
and that kind of thing, and a fallen angel is the epitome of that. She's always on the lookout for
information, artifacts, or anything else about Zariel." She nodded at Lulu and said, "If you have
memories of the Sword of Zariel, she's going to want those. And she's going to want the sword."

I get to watch, Mad Maggie had said with sinister glee. That could complicate things, Pariah
thought. If she was obsessed with getting the sword, she might not want these silly mortals getting
their hands on it. Once she saw the location, they all might be disposable.

Farima said, "Is Lulu in danger from her?"

Tasha seemed surprised at the question. "You mean any more than any of us? I guess that depends
on who Lulu is in relation to Zariel."
"I'm her friend," Lulu said emphatically.

"Are you?" Tasha said thoughtfully. "You mean when she was an angel?"

"Yes," Lulu confirmed. Pariah wanted to tell her to shut up.

Tasha continued. "Were you there when she fell?"

Lulu hung her head. "I don't know," she said softly. "I don't remember. I hope not because I think I
could have stopped her."

Tasha waved away a fly buzzing around her head. "In that case, Mad Maggie is going to be
disturbingly focused on you." To the rest of them she said, "I'd recommend that, while you are
here, one or more of you stay with her at all times."

Farima said, "Would Mad Maggie harm her? I do not see the point of that."

Tasha spread her hands in a shrug. "Mad Maggie is hard to predict. She might want Lulu in a cage.
She might want her stuffed and mounted as a trophy. She might want her as a gift for Zariel. Or she
might lose interest and not care if she comes or goes."

Farima looked concerned. "And she will want the sword?"

"Again, it's hard to say. If the sword still exists, and I'd be surprised if it did, then it's going to be a
target for a lot of people, not the least of which Zariel herself. It might be too dangerous for Mad
Maggie to hold on to. Maybe just knowing where it is would be enough to satisfy her curiosity,
especially if nobody else knows."

That was a point that Pariah hadn't considered. Recovering the sword would be like walking
through the Outer City wearing gold jewelry. People are going to notice, and you'd be dead before
going a block. Plus she still didn't see how having the sword would save the people of Elturel.

Lythienne asked Tasha, "If I might ask, how do you know Lulu?" When Tasha looked puzzled,
Lythienne added, "You recognized her voice when we first arrived. You asked her to tell you that
she loved you."

Tasha laughed brightly. "Oh, that. I guess that might seem a little strange." She fetched a mug from
under the bar and filled it from the spring behind her. "The kenku can't talk, not really. Something
about betraying some wizard and he cursed the entire species so that they can't create anything
new, even conversation. They just mimic voices and sounds."

She took a drink from the mug. "Usually they tend to mimic only recent sounds, but there are
these..." She furrowed her brow. "I guess you might call them performances. They are certain
phrases or sounds that get passed down the generations. They are taught to their chicks. These
specific phrases might be used as greetings or rituals or short hand communication. They often
make no sense to outsiders, but the kenku understand them

"One of the most common greetings the Fort Knucklebone kenku have is to say 'I love you' in that
high-pitched voice. The other thing they say in that voice is 'Dream a little bigger.' I don't-"

"Yes!" Lulu exclaimed. "Yes, I remember that." Her voice caught. "She used to say that. We have
to dream a little bigger."

"Dream a little bigger," came Lulu's voice from behind them, and Pariah turned to see the kenku at
the table both watching them. "Dream a little bigger," one of them said again.
Pariah asked Lulu, "Zariel said that?"

"No," Lulu said sadly. "It was the other lady. I remember her saying that. And...and I remember
her saying 'All that’s left now is the dream,' before there was a bright light from something she was
holding, and then she was gone." She stamped her foot in agitation. "But I don't remember where! I
don't remember where she said that or where she went."

Lythienne reached out to pat her on the back. "Perhaps that is a reason to let Mad Maggie use her
machine. You might feel better if you got your memory back."

"Maybe," Lulu said. "I'm still scared of her."

They all jumped when there was a roar from the courtyard. Pariah recognized it as the roar of a war
machine's engine, presumably the one crewed by the beastmen. It revved a few times and then rose
in pitch. She looked towards the gate and saw it move past in the direction of the main entrance.
The roar faded as the war machine headed down the road.

For some reason, that jogged Pariah's memory of something Levistus had said. She asked Tasha,
"Have you heard of someone named Haruman? He was one of Zariel's generals who's supposed to
be somewhere around here."

Tasha looked up at the sky while she thought about it. "No," she said slowly. "Doesn't sound
familiar, but if he's associated with Zariel, then Mad Maggie would be the one to ask."

Pariah grimaced. "Is there anyone else who might know?"

"Hmm. You might try that air genasi. Shavar was it? He travels around so he might have heard of
him. Or Barnabas. He has all kinds of esoteric information."

"Who's Barnabas?"

"Floating skull that's on fire." She added dryly, "Hard to miss."

"Oh, that guy. I was curious about his story."

Tasha laughed. "So is he. His memory is pretty spotty. That might mean he's really old, or it might
be an effect of the magic that revived him. He has a few memories of being a human wizard in
Sundabar in the 12th or 13th century. And a few memories of being in service to a warlock named
Fauxen. That's how he came here. Fauxen ran this place three or four bosses ago. When Fauxen
was killed by his successor, Barnabas stayed around. He tends to work for whoever's running the
place at the moment. Anyhow, my point is that he has a lot of knowledge of areas of Avernus, but
he also doesn't know what happened yesterday and forgets my name about a third of the time, so
it's a gamble that he'll actually remember anything useful. Still, it's worth a try. He's usually
hanging around the fort somewhere."

"OK, thanks," Pariah said, a little disappointed. She downed the rest of the drink.

She lowered the mug to see Tasha studying her intently. The woman said, "I've got something for
you to try." She reached under the bar and retrieved a shot glass and a brown bottle. She uncorked
the bottle and poured into the glass a few dribbles of a liquid so dark red it was almost black.
"Taste this," she said, pushing it forward.

Pariah instinctively leaned away from it. "What is it?" she asked suspiciously.

"That ashberry blood wine I was telling you about. I think you'll like it."
Pariah stared at the glass. There was barely a sip in it. "I thought you said this was poisonous."

"Well," Tasha said, drawing out the syllable. "Maybe. It depends on how human you are. That's
why I want you to try it. This isn't enough to kill you. If your mouth gets numb then spit it out. If
not, then I think you'll enjoy it."

Pariah's glanced flicked up to the woman's face but she couldn't read anything there. She picked up
the glass and stared at it from a different angle. "When you say 'blood wine', that blood is a
reference to the color, right?" Not that she'd seen blood that dark before.

"Uh, sure, I guess that could be one reason."

Pariah grimaced. "Is there blood in this?" she asked.

"A smidge," she said. "For flavor." Pariah started to put the glass down, but Tasha said, "You eat
meat, don't you? There's probably more blood in a good steak than is in here."

Pariah debated about asking what kind of blood but imagined she didn't want to know the answer,
and as Outer City filth she'd eaten plenty of food that the average person would pass off as
garbage. "Drinking this doesn't give you claim on my soul or anything, right?" she joked. Because
that ship has sailed, she thought.

Tasha laughed. "No, nothing like that. Nothing magic or cursed. Just ashberries with a hint of other
flavors."

Pariah glanced at the others and they were all watching her with varying degrees of interest and/or
horror. She braced herself and downed the shot, though it was really no more than a few drops.

It went down smooth. She hesitated as the flavor filled her mouth. She realized she probably
shouldn't have swallowed until after finding out if her mouth went numb, but she felt fine.

"So," Lythienne asked hesitantly. "What's it like?"

Pariah smacked her lips a bit, trying to get a better idea of the flavor. "It's hideous," she said
conversationally. "But it's also great. I mean it's hard to explain. It's awful, but it's good awful."

"Like the bitter tea?" Rowan asked.

"No," she said thoughtfully. "That was covering up the bad taste with a less bad taste. This flavor
isn't covering anything up. It's kind of swampy and moldy. It's horrible, but it's not. I know that
sounds crazy. I can't explain it." She looked at Tasha and said firmly, "But I like it!"

Tasha grinned widely. "I'm so glad." She handed over the corked bottle. Through the dark brown
glass, Pariah could see it was about three-quarters full. "A gift. For helping Mickey."

Pariah was surprised by the gesture. "Oh, well, thanks," she said as she took the bottle.

"My pleasure. But, seriously, don't let any of the others drink it." She looked to the rest of the
group. "It really would be poisonous to the rest of you."

Pariah poured herself a half shot and then recorked the bottle. She sipped at it and it tasted the
same as before: awful but almost pleasant at the same time. It was possibly the best wine she'd ever
had, and she just had to go to the Nine Hells to find it.

She emptied the glass and said, "Well, let's go track down Shavar and Barnabas and see what they
know."

She got to her feet, as did Lythienne, but the other two women remained seated. Farima said, "As
much as I do not wish to put my faith in a hag, I would rather follow the path laid out by Torm than
the other one presented to us."

Pariah grinned and said, "Ten to one that both paths lead to the same place."

Farima's grip tightened on her mug. "Yes, I will admit that has been the pattern so far. I still do not
wish to pursue the wishes of the other one, though I have no objection if you do so."

"All right," Pariah said. She understood Farima's point, and maybe questioning people as a crowd
wouldn't be the best idea anyhow. "Rowan?" she asked.

"I'll stay here too," she said, signaling to Tasha with her empty mug. "I'm still getting over the
meeting with Mad Maggie."

Pariah watched with concern as Tasha refilled Rowan's mug. "All right. We'll be close by. Lulu?"

Lulu rubbed up against Farima's arm and said, "I think I'm going to stay here, too."

"OK, we'll look around for Barnabas." She grunted. "I don't really want to go back to the market, so
maybe we'll talk to Shavar in camp later."

Rowan turned to look at her, brows furrowed. "What's wrong with the market?"

Pariah sighed, "Long story. I'll tell you later."

Tasha failed to suppress a smile. "Linci and Degs?"

"Yeah."

"You're probably fine. They tend to act out for new people until they tire themselves out. Mad
Maggie put up those protective barriers to keep them from actually killing each other. Most of the
time they just glare and grumble."

Pariah still didn't relish going back to the arcade yet. "Where could I find Barnabas?"

"He's hard to miss, but if he's not around he's probably wandering the wasteland. He doesn't spend
too much time out there, so he'll be back soon."

"OK, thanks," Pariah said as she started towards the gate. She paused and said over her shoulder,
"Do you know of anywhere I could find books around here?" It was a long shot but worth asking.

"Books?" Tasha laughed. "That's not a common request. Mad Maggie probably has some. Degs
might though I wouldn't count on it. He has a lot of random junk."

Pariah was even less interested in going into the hag's cave that she was going to the arcade. She
found herself wondering about Tasha, though. "What about you?" she asked.

Tasha gave a little grin. "One or two, but nothing I'm looking to sell."

"Fair," Pariah nodded and then headed towards the main courtyard.
Chapter End Notes

The jar is a Alchemy Jug, though I've tweaked it so you can pour out a proportional
amount of any of the liquids rather than being stuck with one liquid per day. For
example, you could pour out 40% of the beer, 25% of the acid and 35% of the honey
in a day. To be fair, I doubt it will ever actually be useful or even mentioned again --
they are still carrying those fire breathing potions they got in Chapter 6, which are a
lot less useful in Hell -- but you never know.

The kenku performances and Lulu's associated memories are from the remix.
 A New Friend
Chapter Summary

The party continues to search for answers, unsure whether to follow Levistus's
guidance or risk Lulu in Mad Maggie's dream machine.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah sat on a boulder behind Fort Knucklebone gazing out across the barren landscape. The road
they had traveled to get here continued on past the fort, paralleling the river until it faded into a
landscape that shimmered and warped in the blistering atmosphere. She could see the fortifications
and battles along the river's edge, but couldn't make out any details. The fighting never stopped as
far as she could tell, but that was the Blood War in a nutshell.

The stagnant air trapped the heat in a blanket around her, and sweat soaked her clothes. She was
actually thankful for the lack of wind. The fort had been hit by a brutal windstorm earlier, a
screaming gale that had sent everyone scurrying behind walls to wait it out. It hadn't lasted long
and then the air went back to its normal suffocating stillness. Shavar had said those were the only
two wind speeds in Avernus.

She and Lythienne had been talking to him when the storm hit, and sheltered with him against one
of the walls in the arcade while they waited it out. Unfortunately, he had never heard of Haruman.
However, Pariah had been pleased to see that he had a small collection of books and she had
bought a couple for the road ahead.

They later found Barnabas as he wandered about the fort. He was a strange one, rambling on and
jumping from topic to topic. A single sentence often touched on two or three subjects before
reaching its end. It had been hard to get him to focus on any one thing. In the end he had admitted
that, though the name was familiar, he didn't know where Haruman was.

A few flies buzzed around her head. She knew she'd have to move once they started to swarm.
These were just investigating her, seeing if she was unable to defend herself. She slapped every
time she felt a bite. Linci stocked repellent cream and Pariah thought she might have to go back and
buy some, because once the flies got a taste of prey they were difficult to fight off.

She took a drink from the bottle of blood wine that was down to about a quarter full. Her head was
spinning from the alcohol and she knew she should drink some water, but she didn't care. The
rotten yet weirdly appealing taste was preferable to the tainted water.

She startled at the sound of footsteps, but relaxed as she realized that they were coming slow,
crunching across the gravel that covered the area. She turned her head to see Rowan rounding the
edge of the fort and heading in her direction. Rowan waved at her but Pariah turned away and went
back to staring across the landscape.

"Hey," Rowan said as she got close. She sat on the boulder next to her and held out some Tymoran
biscuits. "I know you didn't want to come in for lunch, but I thought I'd bring you something."
Pariah snapped, "I said I don't want to eat right now!"

Rowan raised her eyebrows and then withdrew the food. "All right."

Pariah made a dismissive gesture. "Sorry," she grunted. "Just not hungry." She took another drink
of the wine.

Rowan watched her in silence for a time. She put her metal hand on Pariah's shoulder. "What's
going on?"

Pariah said nothing. She wanted to be alone, and yet she didn't. She wanted Rowan to leave, but
she also wanted her to stay. Rowan waited patiently, gnawing on a biscuit.

They sat there in the heat. There was no respite from it: no shade, no breeze, no cool body of water
to take a swim in, unless you wanted your memory stolen by the River Styx. You couldn't even
look forward to a cooler night. The only relief was a drink of fetid water or a sip of foul wine.
Pariah took the latter.

After a long silence, Pariah mumbled, "I'm just getting used to my new home."

Rowan said, "We'll find a way out of here. Somehow."

Pariah snorted in irritation. "You will, but not me. This is where I belong." She laughed bitterly as
she waved out at the landscape. "These are my people."

Rowan put an arm around her. "You know that's not true." In a teasing tone, she said, "Just because
you have the horns doesn't mean-"

"But it is true," Pariah snapped. She held out the bottle. "See? Here's the evidence. Poison to a
human. A treat to a devil, and apparently I'm just devil enough to enjoy it. I've been told my whole
life that I was a curse, broken inside, a plague, and I tried not to believe it. But my mother was
right. Here's your proof." She took a deep drink.

She lowered the bottle, a drop of wine dribbling down her chin. "And even if I wasn't half devil, we
all know I'll end up here. I've made the deal." She shoved her bare forearm in front of Rowan's
face. "It's branded on my skin: property of Levistus, damned for eternity." She made a disgusted
noise. "You know what I said? I lived in the slums with starvation and disease and violence. I know
what Hell is like." She gave another bitter laugh and felt tears in her eyes. "Well, what do you
know, it turns out the fucking Nine Hells is a little bit worse than the Outer City. Idiot!"

She looked at the bottle and the black liquid sloshing around behind the dark glass. She stood up
and angrily threw it as hard as she could. The bottle tumbled end over end, wine spilling from the
mouth in an arc, until the glass shattered in the road and left a widening stain. Dark wine against
the red stone of Avernus -- now she could see the blood.

Rowan stood and moved in front of her. She looked into Pariah's eyes and said, "Once, when I was
at my lowest, you know what you said to make me feel better?"

Pariah shook her head.

Rowan smiled gently. "You said this." She wrapped Pariah into a tight hug.

Pariah stood there for a moment, her wine-addled brain moving slowly, and then she put her arms
around Rowan and started to cry, though more softly than Rowan had that night. She let the tears
spill out onto Rowan's shoulder as they held each other in silence.
It felt nice. It felt comforting, even though she knew it was a lie. After a short time, Pariah said,
"It's too damn hot to hug."

"Gods, it really is," said Rowan with a small laugh, releasing her.

The looked at each other and Pariah managed a little smile. Rowan grinned back and said, "We'll
figure it out. We're all on your side. We'll find a way to save you."

Pariah snorted. She appreciated the support, but she had no illusions about what her future really
was. She wiped the tears and sweat out of her eyes and said, "Let's head back in."

They started to walk around the fort towards the main gate. Pariah, trying to keep her tone light,
said, "There's always Sylvira's idea about cutting off my skin. I mean, we're in Hell. I'm sure there
are devils that are experts in tearing the skin off the living."

Rowan stopped walking. Pariah turned to see the woman staring at her with a horrified expression.
Pariah said, "Too dark?"

"Yes," Rowan replied emphatically, and then she resumed walking. "Let's not talk about skin
ripping, please."

"Mad Maggie'd probably do it for free," Pariah suggested.

"Seriously, stop," Rowan said sternly. "Not funny."

"OK, OK," Pariah said.

Rowan reached out to squeeze her hand briefly. "I just don't like you talking about hurting
yourself."

They continued around the fort until they reached the main gate. She eyed the redcaps in the tower
to make sure they didn't have any pranks planned, and was surprised to see only two stationed
there. One of them removed his cap, fanned his face twice with it, and then popped it back on his
head.

Pariah wasn't paying much attention. She wasn't full on drunk but had a pretty good buzz going,
and between the wine and the heat she was starting to feel sick to her stomach. She promised
herself a long drink of water when they got back to camp, and maybe she'd take a couple of those
biscuits after all in the hopes they'd settle her insides.

As they entered the main courtyard, she heard a yell and saw a burst of activity. Half a dozen
redcaps came charging out of the knucklebone gates, their black sickles drawn, and quickly
surrounded the two of them. At least as many more popped up on the walls around the courtyard,
aiming their crossbows down at the pair.

Pariah reached for her sword but a voice snapped, "Don't move!"

She saw the redcap with the pointed hat approaching, his maddened eyes glaring at her. His sickle
was sheathed and his scarred hands were clenched into fists. He stepped up and stared up at her
menacingly, even though he was only chest high to her. She was torn between finding it cute and
finding it intimidating. She started to reach for the earring to notify the others and he snarled, "I
said don't move!"

He continued to glare at her in silence. She pursed her lips. "What do you want?" she demanded.
He reached up and took off his pointed hat. With his eyes still locked on her he said, " Llygoden."

Pariah frowned. "What?"

He thrust his hand into the hat and pulled out a small, struggling animal. It was vaguely rat-like in
shape though its toes were unnaturally long and its tail was furry like a cat's. Without breaking his
gaze he bit off the creature's head, evoking a muffled squeak from it as it died. He chewed as rust-
colored blood ran down his chin.

"You think you're so tough," he said around a mouthful. "You think you can come in here and
order us around. I'm in charge here and it's time you learned your place." He looked her up and
down. "I think I'll take a finger for my collection." He took another bite of the rodent.

"I got a finger for you," Pariah said gruffly. The attitude of this one was different. It wasn't like the
shakedown at the gate. This one was out for blood. She didn't know how tough these things were
but she was reluctant to find out while facing so many of them, and he didn't seem intimidated by
her.

She and Rowan were standing back to back. Over her shoulder, Pariah said softly in broken Elvish,
"Ebratha aul reverie shesh?" She had continued her lessons with Lythienne during their down
times. She was a quick student but still didn't know how to form full sentences.

Rowan replied, "Avavaen."

"Stop speaking nonsense," the redcap screamed at her. Pariah held her hands out in apology, but
she had confirmed what she had wanted to know: the others were in the hostel. They could reach
the courtyard in seconds if a fight broke out, but not before she and Rowan had a half-dozen
crossbow bolts sticking out of them.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a feral scream. She looked up to see Mickey charging in from the
gate to the Well and Mad Maggie's lair. Panic bubbled up in her, and then she realized that
Mickey's fury was not directed at her. He grabbed the redcap leader by the head, lifted him off the
ground, and slammed his face into the wall. The redcap's skull was smashed to pulp in a single
blow, leaving a red streak down the wall as his body fell to the ground. Mickey grabbed another
one across the midsection with his lobster claw and the redcap screamed as the pincer squeezed
him. The patchwork creature then grabbed a third redcap by the neck with his other hand and used
him as a club to strike at the others.

The redcaps screamed and scattered and the courtyard was empty in moments. The redcap held in
Mickey's claw lay limply in his grip, eyes open, blood spilling out of his open mouth. Mickey
threw the other one to the ground and the redcap started to crawl away slowly, groaning.

Mickey turned to Pariah with a huge grin, bouncing up and down on his mismatched legs, his
tongue lolling about and spraying saliva around. He tossed the dead redcap aside and then bent
down to retrieve the leader's pointed hat. He held it out to Pariah, still bobbing with excitement like
an energetic puppy.

Farima, Lythienne and Lulu hurried into the courtyard, their stances combat ready, and then they
ground to a stop to survey the bloody scene. "What happened?" Lythienne asked.

Pariah was stunned, still trying to process what had just transpired. She stared at Mickey, unsure
how to react. He held the cap out to her again with a grunt. She looked down at the bloodstained
leather and then back at him. With a desperate whine he shook it at her.
She looked at it again, back at Mickey, and then reluctantly took the offered item. "Uh...thank
you," she said.

Mickey's horrifying grin widened and he pointed at the hat excitedly. It took her a moment to
realize he was trying to draw her attention to writing on the inside edge of the cap. She didn't
recognize the characters. She could read the words phonetically but they were nonsense to her
rather than translating to words she knew.

"Yst...lum?" she sounded out. She yelped and dropped the hat as she felt it moving. Something
black came fluttering out of the hat, flew past her face and into the Avernian sky.

Confused she looked back at Mickey who was beaming at her. He grunted and pointed to the hat
again, then pointed to the creature that was flying away. He took a bite out of some imaginary
object in his hand.

"The hat makes food?" Pariah guessed.

Mickey nodded -- well he bobbed the upper half of his body, which Pariah interpreted as a nod. He
waited with excited anticipation.

Pariah retrieved the hat from the ground and read the writing again. In addition to ystlum, she saw
llygoden, which was the word the redcap had said, and broga. Holding the hat open at arm's
length, she carefully said, "Broga."

She cringed as she felt the hat move but kept her grip on it this time. A scaly and taloned paw
reached out of the hat to grip the edge and something reptilian with greenish-brown skin crawled
out. It was a bit bigger than her fist, with powerful back legs and red eyes. It led out a croak and
then leapt to the ground. As it hopped off, Mickey looked back and forth between it and Pariah,
confused.

Pariah nodded towards the creature. "You can have that if you want." Mickey pounced on it and
gobbled it down in a single bite.

Pariah said, "Thanks, Mickey. For the help and for the hat."

Mickey grunted at her and then shuffled off towards the arcade. Pariah saw Shavar and Sarcasia
watching from that gate. She looked around and saw three kenku watching from the tinker's gate,
and Tasha and Barnabas watching from the Well gate.

"What is going on?" Lythienne asked again.

Pariah said, "The redcaps wanted to have a violent word with us. Mickey had other ideas." She
looked down at the mangled corpses at her feet. "I need a drink," she sighed.

"Right this way," said Tasha, waving them over. The spectators were wandering off now that the
show was over. Pariah had actually intended to go back to camp and drink from her new magic jug.

Pariah considered the blood-stained hat in her hand. She wasn't sure she wanted to put it in her
satchel, and her pack was in the hostel. That latter thought worried her. "I don't want to leave our
stuff," she said, nodding towards the hostel gate.

Lythienne said to Tasha, "We'll come by later." The four of them headed back to camp.

Pariah saw the four packs lying unattended on the ground, and caught a hint of movement at one of
the pouches. She sent a beam of frost through the space above the pack and was pleased to hear a
yelp. A voice snarled, "Tsux-zhoxak tsolk!", which was quite a nasty insult in Infernal, and then
she heard the sound of leathery wings.

"Pyt ereakh dzwung ew shkopf," she called after the disappearing flapping sound, which was a
stern warning to avoid their camp. "Damn imps," she mumbled.

As they sat down around the fire pit, Lythienne suggested, "Tea?"

"Sure," said Pariah, but she also pulled the jug out of her satchel and took a long drink of water.
The adrenaline of the scene in the courtyard had burned away the alcohol fog around her brain and
made her realize how thirsty she was. She was still gloomy but tried to put on a brave face so the
others wouldn't worry.

Lythienne poured from a pot that was sitting on the ground to the side. Pariah presumed she had
made the tea for lunch. It was lukewarm, the pot having been off the fire for a while, and bitter
like the tea that Shavar had served. Pariah also forced herself to eat and between the food, the tea
and the water, her stomach settled though her mood was still stormy.

"Talona's tits," Pariah said as she thought of something. The others looked at her expectantly. She
waved them off. "Sorry, forgot something in the courtyard. I'll be back."

She was losing the instincts of the streets. Who leaves bodies without searching them? She hurried
out to the courtyard, but the redcap corpses were already gone, leaving nothing but bloodstains.
The bodies probably hadn't had much, but the group might need every chit they could get. She
looked up at the watchtower and the redcaps glared down in anger but didn't go for their
crossbows.

Annoyed at herself, she returned to the others.

Rowan asked, "What was that about?" but Pariah just waved her off with a grunt.

The others chatted but Pariah wasn't listening, lost in her own thoughts. Finally, she pulled out one
of the books she had bought from Shavar. It was titled "Feast of Fiends" and was a disturbing tale
of gluttonous banquets put on in the Purple City by Baron Tolmanen or Tomannen or Tollanun or
something like that; the name was spelled many different ways. The book was riddled with other
misspellings, poor grammar, and other issues that made it hard to follow. Avernus was mentioned
but it wasn't clear if the Purple City was actually here or not.

She was pulled out of the badly written book by Rowan's frantic tapping on her upper arm. Pariah
looked up to see everyone else was staring towards the knuckle gate where Mad Maggie was
slowly tottering across the hostel towards them, Mickey close behind her.

Mad Maggie stumbled and Mickey reached out to steady her. "Hands off!" she snapped, raking her
claws across his arm. He recoiled in fear as blood started to ooze out of the parallel scratches along
his skin. Pariah pursed her lips and put her book away. She stood and the others followed suit.

"There you are," Mad Maggie grated at them. "Can't wander everywhere looking for you. Waste of
my time."

No one else seemed eager to speak so Pariah stepped forward. "What do you want?" she asked,
more aggressively than she had intended.

Her tone clearly didn't please the hag. Mad Maggie fixed her with one eye while the other
erratically looked over the rest of the group. She stepped forward and put her face close to Pariah's.
Pariah struggled not to gag on the odor of her fetid breath.
"What do I want?" Mad Maggie asked. "It's what you want, isn't it? Dreams. Memories.
Knowledge. You want a favor from me, or was I mistaken?"

Pariah's mood was already poor and having the hag in her face wasn't helping, but she forced out an
even tone as she said, "You want to know about Zariel, right? So it seems we are both getting
something out of this." She forced herself not to look away from the unblinking stare of Mad
Maggie's rheumy eye.

Mad Maggie reached out a finger, its nail black from dirt and its tip decorated with a little bit of
Mickey's blood. The hag's fingernail traced a line down Pariah's cheek, her neck, and over her
breastplate. "Oh we could definitely both get something out of this." She licked her lips and Pariah
didn't know if that was meant to show gluttony or lust, nor could she decide which answer was
more disturbing.

Pariah took a breath, unable to avoid grimacing as the old woman's smell infiltrated her lungs. "Is
the machine ready?"

"Machine?" Mad Maggie asked distantly. For a moment Pariah was afraid the hag had forgotten
why they were there, and then Mad Maggie's face clouded. She shoved Pariah away. "Of course
the machine is ready. Why else would I be here?"

Farima said to Lulu, "Have you decided if you are willing to do this?"

"Yes," Lulu said reluctantly. "As long as all of you can be there to be sure I'm OK."

"Excellent," Mad Maggie said. "Now, I just need a couple pints of the hollyphant's blood."

There was a stunned silence as the group mentally processed this statement. Lulu started backing
away and shrieked, "What? You can't have my blood!"

Pariah shifted to stand between Mad Maggie and the hollyphant, her hand dropping to the hilt of
her sword. "You never said anything about blood."

"There's always blood," Mad Maggie said as if it was the most obvious statement in the world.

The others had moved into a protective arc in front of Lulu. Farima asked, "Why? What purpose
would her blood serve?"

Mad Maggie's eye swiveled to look at her. She cackled, "Purpose? Purpose? Lots of purposes.
Celestial blood is useful for so many things, and so tasty too!"

"What I mean," Farima said firmly, "is what purpose does it serve in the dream machine?"

The hag turned to face Farima and cocked her head. "What does the dream machine have to do with
anything?"

Farima's lips tightened. "You said you needed her blood for the dream machine."

Mad Maggie snarled, "I said no such thing, you diseased whore. Don't lie about me! I said I wanted
her blood. That's all."

Farima's face clouded. Pariah could feel everyone's temper rising, and she wasn't sure that was a
good thing. Like it or not, they needed Mad Maggie's help. However, before she could intervene,
Lythienne said, "We would like you to use the dream machine to look at Lulu's memories. That is
why we are here. Do you need her blood for the dream machine?"
The hag sneered in contempt. "Of course not! Why would I need it for that?"

Patiently, Lythienne said, "Then why did you ask for Lulu's blood?"

Mad Maggie scratched at her armpit. "Because celestial blood is useful. And tasty."

"Yes, you said that," Lythienne replied. "You also said you would require no payment to look at
her memories other than being able to witness them for yourself."

"Uh huh," Mad Maggie agreed. "And?"

"But now you are saying you want payment in her blood to use it."

"I did not!" Mad Maggie barked. "Why do you idiotic monkeys keep lying about me?"

"So you do not want payment for using the machine."

"No."

Pariah interjected, "So let's go use the machine now, OK?"

Mad Maggie shrugged, "Fine, if you halfwits are done prattling on about blood, then let's go."

She hobbled off at a surprisingly quick pace. Lulu whispered, "I don't want to give her my blood."

"I don't think you need to," Pariah assured her. "I think that was something separate. Let's just go
use the machine."

"I guess," Lulu said reluctantly.

Farima assured her, "I swear we will keep you safe, Lulu. We will not let her harm you."

They grabbed their belongings from around the fire pit and hurried after Mad Maggie and Mickey.
She led them through the main courtyard and past the Well, where Tasha watched them warily
while she poured out drinks for a couple of redcaps at the bar. Pariah noticed the severed arms at
the cave entrance ignored the hag and her companion, but they still thoroughly groped the rest of
them.

They went down the noisome corridor and into the main chamber of her lair. There, Mad Maggie
walked a crooked path through the debris on the floor towards one of the exiting tunnels. It led a
short distance to a wide, roughly circular room. A massive device nearly filled the room wall to
wall, floor to ceiling. Pariah stopped as she looked over the machine.

Some of the construction reminded her of the contraptions the priests of Gond paraded through the
city. A boiler to one side occasionally whistled steam out of a valve, and the boiler seemed to
power a set of pistons that in turn drove a complex array of gears and belts that turned with a growl.
The mechanism was dotted with glowing lights that snapped sparks from time to time.

Other parts of the construction bore arcane symbols and diagrams. Her magical studies had been
limited so far but she recognized a few of the runes. A transparent crystal send thrumming green
energy through the framework, and many of the magical inscriptions glowed with inner light.

A few bits of the machine were unlike anything she'd seen before. A pulsating fleshy lump held in
a silver cage dripped black ichor into a shallow groove that encircled the entire device. Dark purple
tendrils wrapped around much of the structure, occasionally shifting restlessly. Red liquid flowed
through glass tubes. There's always blood.
 Painted on the floor was a pentagram, and in each corner was a chair facing towards the center.
None of the chairs matched. One was made of bright red wood peppered with spikes; the spikes on
the seat, but not the rest of the chair, had been cut off. Another was an uncomfortable looking
frame of bare iron. An overstuffed leather chair occupied the third point, though Pariah found
herself wondering what kind of leather it was. The fourth seat was a simple stool of blue stone. The
last one, the one that Mad Maggie had already inelegantly plopped herself into, was a high-backed
chair made of what appeared to be human bones. In front of that one was a sort of table, but the
surface was angled to face the chair. There were buttons and switches set into the surface and Mad
Maggie was fiddling with them.

"Take a seat," she snapped impatiently. "You, yellow dog, stand in the middle."

"I'm not a dog," Lulu said rebelliously, but she moved to stand in a circle inscribed in the center.
The circle was surrounded by the flow of black ichor, a circle of green energy, and a copper rail
that sparked occasionally. Lulu warily stepped over them, careful to touch none of the rings.

The group exchanged looks and then moved towards the chairs. Pariah ended up in the wooden
one and realized that the spikes hadn't been sanded down. The nubs poked at her but none were
sharp enough to penetrate her clothing. They were merely uncomfortable to sit on.

Mad Maggie glanced around the room. "Ready? Then let's get started." She turned a dial on the
panel in front of her.

Pariah felt something moving up her neck and across the back of her head. She reached behind and
felt a slimy tentacle. Looking around, she realized the other women also had tentacles slithering up
their necks. She felt the tendril split and spread across her head. "Wait," she said as panic rose.
"What is-"

"Here we go!" Mad Maggie shrieked as she threw a switch. The switch popped with a bright spark,
the machine let out a loud whine, and Pariah was plunged into darkness.

Chapter End Notes

I decided not to cover the conversations with Shavar and Barnabas. Barnabas might
have been interesting to write, sort of like talking to a man with dementia, but I'm
trying to move the story along rather than linger on every detail.

The wine was supposed to be just a silly little detail: this is good for you but will
poison your companions, isn't that hilarious? However, I later realized that it was a
pretty depressing present, emphasizing Pariah's fiendish origin. I had already wanted
her to have that moment where she comes to terms that this place -- well, technically
Stygia -- is her new home, and the wine worked nicely into that.

I tried to find Elvish dictionaries for Pariah's comment and I found several, yet they
were all missing basic words. I wanted Pariah's sentence to be "Women at bed place?"
to reflect broken speech, and yet I couldn't find ANY of those words other than
"place". So I used multiple sources to finally get "Friends in sleep place?" which is
close enough.
The hat is a Hat of Vermin from Xanathar's. The command words are the Welsh
words for rat, bat and frog. I was looking for something fey, and most of the fey
stories in our world tend to be Irish, Scots Gaelic or Welsh. I looked up all three and
liked the Welsh words best.

And, speaking of language, I mentioned in a previous chapter that I was using an

online translator to write the Infernal. I found it too limiting in that it frequently
generates unmanageable strings of consonants. So I kind of created my own at
https://rollforfantasy.com/tools/language-generator.php that generates better sounding
language, and I can always tweak on it when I get strange outcomes. I'd share it but I
don't see any way to show my particular alphabet.
 A Dream Machine
Chapter Summary

Locked into the evil hag's arcane device, the party descends into the world of Lulu's
memories.

Chapter Notes

Much of the dialogue in the visions is flat-out copied from the visions described in the
Alexandrian Remix and was originally written by Justin Alexander.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Pariah hurtled through a confusing array of sensory chaos. She felt colors, saw odors, smelled
sounds. Nothing was connected and it was just a random assault of overwhelming information.

And then suddenly it all was gone and she was surrounded by a silent, white void. She was
standing on some kind of surface, though she could see nothing below her. Shapes coalesced out of
the nothing and Pariah saw the forms of Lulu and Farima and Lythienne and Pariah.

She paused, staring at herself floating in the void. "What the-" she started to say in Rowan's voice,
and then she broke off. She held up her hands and saw the left one was a complex metal
mechanism.

Mad Maggie's voice came out of the void, distorted and cracking. "That's odd. One moment."

Pariah winced as a high-pitched squeal pierced the void, her vision faded, and then came back.
This time she seemed to be looking out of the right pair of eyes. She held up her hands and saw the
Infernal writing on her skin.

"That's better," Mad Maggie said triumphantly. "Hmm. The elf girl seems a little choleric. Let me
adjust her soul stream."

Pariah didn't know what "choleric" meant. She looked at Lythienne and didn't see anything other
than a confused look on her face.

"Move, you cocksucker!" Mad Maggie snarled. There was a screech of metal, a descending buzz,
and then a meaty splat. A cold shiver ran across Pariah's skin as the void shifted from white to...a
different shade of white? Shapes morphed across the air around her and she started to understand
what Jynks had said about her vision where there had been lots of colors but all of them were black.

The void continued to morph, but the white started to take on a faint pinkish hue. Shapes started to
form around them -- clouds, trees, a narrow stream. Butterflies flapped through the air, hopping
from flower to flower. They were in a landscape, but one that was crudely created like a child's
finger painting if the only paint available was pink.
"There," Mad Maggie said. "You should all be synchronized. Anything wrong? Missing limbs?
Insides on the outside?"

Pariah glanced around and they all seemed to be intact.

Rowan called out to the void, "We are all fine. Where are we?"

Mad Maggie snapped, "Where do you think you are, you retarded twat? In the hollyphant's mind.
Now shut up while I harmonize the machine with her Styx-tainted memories. This next part will
probably hurt."

Pariah frowned. She had already wondered if the River Styx was related to Lulu's memory loss, but
it was odd that Mad Maggie seemed to know that it was.

They heard some kind of shuffling movement. Mad Maggie said, "Mickey, put it there. No, there
you useless flesh bag! Now give me the knife. The other knife. That one. Now hold it down."

Pariah tensed as a shriek of agony ripped through the air. It was so feral and desperate that she
couldn't tell if it was an animal or a person. As the cry was suddenly cut off, Pariah was starting to
think this had been a bad idea.

Lulu whined, "Farima, you said this wasn't bad magic."

Farima's voice shook as she said, "No, I said the magic did not seem to be designed to control your
mind. I could tell it was dark magic, though I will admit that I underestimated how dark."

Mad Maggie mocked, "Wah wah, mean lady do bad magic. Should I stick my nipple in your mouth
so little baby can get some milk?" She snarled, "Stop your moaning! I'm almost done."

The fluffy pink landscape started to ripple and distort. Features grew larger and smaller, closer and
farther, in ways that Pariah's mind couldn't make sense of. Spots of pink started to darken and turn
brown, and their surroundings withered. Black sludge started to drip from the brown spots, oozing
into the stream and fouling it. The murky water reminded Pariah of the waters of the Styx.

The corruption spread quickly. Pariah stomach started to turn, though she didn't know if it was due
to the dark magic, the undulating surroundings, or both. Her head swam as the world around her
started to spin. The black muck whirled around them like a cyclone, closing in. Tendrils of ooze
whipped past them. Pariah and Lythienne dodged the muck. Rowan threw up a hand as she
mumbled a prayer, and the ooze shied away from her. Farima tried the same, but her voice faltered
and the muck splashed across her arm and chest. It was like thick tar that pinned her arm to her
body. One of the ooze tendrils also splashed across Lulu, who seemed overwhelmed by the chaos
around her.

"There!" Maggie crowed and cackled. "There is one of her memories."

The whirling storm of ooze evaporated revealing a chaotic but silent battlefield. For a moment,
Pariah thought this was the Blood War battle at the shores of the River Styx, but she saw a line of
human warriors standing against a horde of hyena-headed humanoids -- gnolls.

Sound crashed into her like a wave, as though her ears had suddenly been uncovered. The clash of
metal on metal, the yips of the gnolls, the battle cries and dying screams of the soldiers around her.
Then the smell of blood and sweat and animal musk washed over her as the memory sharpened.

She was floating above the conflict. For a moment she thought she was flying, but her wings were
not deployed. She turned and saw the others floating nearby, their forms smoky and indistinct.
"Lulu, what is this?" she asked. Her voice was muffled like she was underwater, but Lulu heard
her.

Lulu said uncertainly, her voice as hazy as her floating form, "I think this is Idyllglen, the battle
against the army raised by the demons."

They heard a trumpet and thundering footsteps. Pariah looked down and saw a massive, golden-
furred war mammoth with massive wings, currently folded, charging up to stop beside them.
Sitting astride her was a woman with alabaster skin and flowing blonde hair wielding a glowing
sword. The bright halo above her head and the wings of white feathers that sprung from her back
made it clear she was not a human woman.

"That's me," Lulu squeaked in excitement. "And Zariel."

Zariel called out in a voice that rang like a bell, "Lulu, help hold the line here! I'm going to get the
lay of the land." Her ivory wings spread out and lifted her with a powerful downdraft. She climbed
high over the battle as a force of about thirty gnolls came over the hill before them.

"Stand together," the mammoth shouted to the soldier near her. The mammoth's voice was
recognizably Lulu's, though much deeper. The soldiers lined up as about two thirds of the gnolls
charged down the slope.

The gnolls reminded Pariah somewhat of the beastmen she had seen in Fort Knucklebone. They
were roughly humanoid but with the hyena heads and clawed hands, and covered in light brown fur
dappled with spots of darker brown. They wore armor of crudely tanned hides and bore spears and
bows. They yipped and snarled as they closed with the humans.

She realized there were at least two types of gnolls in addition to the common ones. She spotted
over a half dozen that were unarmed, but their eyes were wild and thick saliva dripped from their
fanged jaws as they made feral, high-pitched barks. Finally there were four that were bigger, wore
better quality armor, and had decorated themselves with piercings and demonic sigils. They seemed
to be barking orders at the other gnolls.

The gnolls that had stayed on the hill launched two volleys of arrows into the ranks of the soldiers
before the slavering gnolls closed the distance. Mammoth Lulu sounded a trumpet of sparkling
energy that burned across the enemy before her, felling a half dozen before they were upon the
defenders.

The gnolls tore into the armored knights with a ferocity that threatened to overwhelm them.
"Hold!" cried out a commander as the line started to buckle. Pariah itched to dive down and help
drive off the attack, but she knew they were only observers here.

Mammoth Lulu charged into the crowd of gnolls from the side, scattering them and blunting their
attack. She came out the other side with a gnoll impaled on her tusk. She shook it off and turned to
trumpet another wave of energy. As more gnolls fell, the skirmish started to turn and the soldiers
gained the upper hand.

A large gnoll crested another hill nearby. He was dressed in ragged clothes and carried a gnarled
staff. Shimmering energy surrounded his body. Bolts of force flew from his staff and peppered the
soldiers, felling three. He turned and launched a lightning bolt at another part of the battlefield and
Pariah could see it spear through a line of archers.

Little Lulu fluttered around nervously. "I remember something about him. He's bad. We have to
stop him. I mean they have to stop him." She flew down to her mammoth self and shouted, "Can
you hear me? You need to go kill the wizard. Hey, Lulu! Go kill the wizard." But the mammoth
ignored her and continued to rampage through the nearby gnolls.

A force of horsemen charged up the hill towards the wizard, their lances ready. The gnoll turned
towards them and released a storm of cold that swept the entire troop back down to the bottom of
the hill. With a roar that echoed across the battlefield, the wizard flung out his arms and his form
started to change. He grew to twice his height as muscles bulged from his arms and legs. His
tattered clothing fell away to reveal crude armor pieced together from shields and breastplates of
smaller foes. Spikes grew out of his skull and neck into a malevolent, black crest. His staff
transformed into a three-headed flail.

He called out, his voice carrying across the roar of the battle. Pariah recognized the sound of
Abyssal but couldn't make out what he was saying. However, when he was done, he charged down
the hill away from the group and all the gnolls turned to follow him.

Panicked, little Lulu said, "It's Yeenoghu! He's after Yael. We have to stop him!" She flew off after
him.

Farima called out, "Lulu, wait," and then the dream dissolved into a whirling storm of black sludge.

Pariah heard the clang of metal over and over, like someone was banging on a cheap gong. Mad
Maggie shrieked, "Useless pile of barlgura shit! Align, you ass-licking dretch cock! Mickey, get
that lever in place or I'll tie you up and feed your living flesh to the hellwasps."

The sludge slowed and stopped churning, leaving them floating in blackness. Out of the darkness, a
woman's voice challenged, "You're no ogres! Identify yourselves!"

The darkness faded to reveal a hazy image of the mammoth Lulu, her golden fur lit with golden
flames, Zariel astride her. In front of them was a small group of soldiers wearing haphazard pieces
of armor. At their head was a woman with long black hair.

Zariel said, "Know ye that I am Zariel. By the compact of old and in heed of your call, I return to
you in your hour of need."

The woman smiled in exhaustion and walked forward. "I am Yael of Idyllglen. And we are sore
pressed, milady."

Zariel dismounted and extended her hand, clasping Yael’s. "I am glad to you meet you, Yael of
Idyllglen."

Pariah winced as a horrible screech tore through the air and the vision flew apart. They were lost in
swirling darkness and clamoring noise again. Mad Maggie shouted, "Close it! Close it! If that bile
duct keeps spewing, it'll poison their minds."

Pariah shouted, "What was that about poisoning our minds?"

"Be quiet!" Mad Maggie snapped. "It's all under control. No, Mickey, that one!" Pariah heard a
slap and then heard Mickey yelp.

A voice called out of the darkness, "Yeenoghu has returned! He razes the settlements of the
Winding Water!" and then the turbulent racket swept the voice away.

Zariel's voice shouted, "Chazaqiel has betrayed all we believe in. You must see that! To Hell with
her if that is what she wants, but we would break our oath to follow her!"
Another snippet came out of the noise. A man's voice, deep and smooth, said calmly, "Which of us
do you think sees more clearly?"

Zariel's voice swam into their hearing again. "The demon lord flees before our wrath! And he has
taken one of our own! To rescue and salvation! Charge!"

Another man's voice, silky and persuasive. "My friend, you will find the aid of the Emporium to be
all that you would ever wish."

Lulu -- the Lulu with them, not the Lulu from memories -- said, "I know that voice, but I can't
remember who it is."

Zariel's voice faded in. "It may be madness. But will you join me?"

A voice that Pariah recognized as Yael's replied, "Aye. Let’s dream a little bigger."

Yael's voice didn't fade. Instead it repeated, "...dream a little bigger...dream a little bigger...dream a
little bigger..." It grew softer until it faded into an unintelligible mumble that sounded like a spell
chant. Pariah felt the voice calling to her, pulling her. The blackness below them glowed and
started to undulate like the surface of a body of water. In that glow they saw an image.

Yael and mammoth Lulu were on board some kind of simple vessel on a river; Pariah recognized
the murkiness of the River Styx. The boat had run aground. It was taking on water and the back
was sinking into the dark waters. A large group of creatures Pariah assumed were demons were
trying to get aboard. Most of them were ape-like, but there were also some with pincers and bovine
heads, and a few vrocks circling above.

Yael was behind Lulu chanting a prayer and Pariah felt the words of that prayer pulling at her. She
felt energy move out of her body and form into a glowing angelic figure that moved into the image
below them. It looked like her human disguise, but with lightly glowing skin and a pair of white-
feathered wings. She saw similar angelic figures pulled from Farima, Lythienne and Rowan.

Yael looked at the four glowing figures with a weak smile. Pariah realized that the woman was
battle weary and barely standing. She also realized the woman was carrying the glowing sword that
Pariah had last seen in Zariel's hands. Yael said with relief, "Well...it seems the gods can still hear
us, even here." To the angels she said, "Cover our retreat. Prevent them from following us."

She climbed onto the mammoth's back. "Lulu, we have to flee. Fly hard!"

Lulu leapt into the air and flew inland with surprising speed. The demons tried to follow but the
angels intercepted them. The angels fought ferociously, but they were badly outnumbered. They
were unable to defeat the demons, but they held them off long enough for Yael to escape.

The scene below them shifted. Now they watched as Lulu and Yael flew low across the harsh
Avernian landscape. Then the image jumped and it was just mammoth Lulu flying by herself. The
image continued to jump and distort showing variations of the scene. Lulu was sometimes small
and sometimes large. Yael was sometimes healthy and sometimes injured. Sometimes they were
fleeing frantically and sometimes they were walking slowly.

Then it was just little Lulu flying alone across the red sand. The color of the sand started to pale
until it became silvery, and the grains became fine and smooth. The sky overhead darkened and
then were filled with a breathtaking array of bright stars. The image of Lulu faded away and Pariah
felt solid ground beneath her feet.

She was standing on a beach of silver sand next to a body of wine-dark water. Waves lapped gently
at the shore and a peaceful calm filled the area. Glistening pink bubbles floated through the air
around her, each about three feet across. She looked around and didn't see the others in the group.

Mad Maggie's voice tore through the serene stillness. "It's too hard to keep you shitbrains in sync.
You're all there but you're all alone."

Pariah turned a full circle and saw nothing but endless dark water in one direction and endless
silver sand in the other. As she faced back towards the sea, she realized one of the pink bubbles
was nearly upon her. She tried to step aside, but it enveloped her.

She heard Zariel say wistfully, "I look out across the vast gulfs of the multiverse, and I am sick for
the need of change."

Lulu's small voice answered, "If change is what you’re looking for, then you’ll need to look
somewhere new to find it."

In a warm tone, Zariel said, "It’s these mortals. Speaking with them -- feeling the heat and fleeting
speed of their passion ‑‑ has aroused in me the truth. We may be eternal, but they are not. And if
we fail them, our eternity makes the failure even greater."

After a pause, Lulu replied, "Could mortals truly make such a difference in your heart?"

The voices faded as the bubble moved away from her. It had been more than just a conversation.
Pariah had felt Lulu's love, her devotion to Zariel, or at least to who Zariel had once been.

Pariah turned and spotted another bubble, a smaller one. She moved towards it and let it consume
her.

Over the sound of splashing waves, Zariel laughed. "Then we will fight! But, no. Once a
beachhead exists, others will flock to our cause. I am not the only disaffected angel! Give them but
a chance, and they will seize it!"

Pariah sought out another memory bubble. Lulu said incredulously, "From the Powers of Heaven?
You’re certainly following her advice! Your dream is impossibly large!"

Zariel replied, "Perhaps. But we’ll dream it together?"

Firmly, Lulu said, "Forever." Again, Pariah felt Lulu's loyalty, a devotion that was clearly stronger
than her commitment to celestial authority, and that worried the tiefling.

In another bubble, Lulu said, "You already have an army!"

Zariel seemed confused when she said, "You mean Yael?"

"And her militia. Yes!"

Skeptically, Zariel said, "That’s a force for bandit ogres, not demon wars!"

Lulu assured her, "But it could be!"

Pariah considered what she had just seen. Lulu was the one who had suggested the army of
mortals? She wondered if the others were seeing these same memories.

Another memory took her. Zariel said in a quiet voice, "They will not appreciate having their hand
being forced."
Lulu replied in a similar tone, "Then we must keep it a secret."

Zariel said, "For as long as we are able."

Pariah continued to wander the silver beach, seeking out memories. Lulu declared, "Then it will be
a crusade."

Zariel affirmed, "A crusade of the valiant, whose courage shall never be broken!"

Pariah felt the drive in Lulu's heart, the need for combat, for victory. She knew it was linked to her
love for Zariel, but she was disturbed by what she didn't feel: compassion for the mortals they were
about to send to their deaths.

She entered another bubble. Zariel laughed in triumph. "They have! They have made all the
difference! … And perhaps that is the key. From eternity nothing can change, but if the mortals are
given a chance."

Lulu asked, "What sort of chance?"

Zariel replied, "To fight! To take up swords and say that their destiny is their own! That they’re no
longer children! That they will no longer stand idly by while gods and godlings waste eternity!"

Their own destiny, Pariah wondered, or the destiny you've visited on them? Did they truly
understand what Zariel was asking of them? Did she truly understand the value of the lives she was
putting at risk?

Another memory took her. Lulu said, "But to what end?"

Zariel said with zealous passion, "To disrupt the balance! Demons vs. devils. Heaven vs. Hell. The
Great Wheel is a trap. It turns, but never ends. We will break the wheel."

Lulu wondered, "How? Where?"

Zariel replied, "The Blood War. The Powers of Heaven refuse to intervene -- to break an eternal
cycle endlessly consuming mortal souls. But if we created a second front -- if we broke the balance
-- that might be all it would take."

This memory tore apart, not to reveal the beach of silver sand, but instead the swirling black void.
Pariah floated alone in the darkness until it disintegrated to reveal a battlefield. She recognized the
harsh environment of Avernus. Thousands of soldiers were engaged with an equally large force of
fiends in battles that spread across the wasteland before them. On top of a bluff looking over the
battlefield were Zariel astride Lulu, and Yael mounted on a black charger.

Zariel studied the battle below with a critical eye. Yelling to be heard over the noise, she said, "The
demon army is buckling under Olanthius’s assault. I think Haruman may be able to catch them in a
pincer and end Yeenoghu’s terror for all time."

Yael nodded. "I agree. As long as my army holds strong, we can keep the devil army engaged until
their bloody work is done."

A trumpet sounded across the battlefield, its shrill tone breaking through the roar of the melee.
Zariel, Yael and Lulu jerked their head towards the source of the sound. Zariel barked, "I gave no
order!"

Yael quickly slipped from her horse to climb aboard Lulu behind Zariel. "Fly," she yelled. "We
need to see!"

Lulu spread her massive wings and launched into the air, headed towards a formation of pegasus-
riding knights. As they drew close, Yael shouted, "Report!"

One of the riders shouted back, "Sunstar has sounded a retreat!"

"What?" Yael said incredulously.

Another rider pointed and shouted, "The call is spreading!"

Below them, a large section of the army had peeled away from the main battle and were charging
towards a massive shimmering portal that was currently held by a significant force of demons.
Pariah could see that most of the fleeing force bore standards with the same symbol emblazoned on
Yael's armor, but she could also see smaller number of soldiers bearing two other standards. She
vaguely remembered Lythienne talking about the Three Armies and guessed these soldiers were
under the other generals, Haruman and Olanthius.

Zariel said in horror, "What has he done?"

Pariah was surprised by her tone. She would have expected fury but she heard only despair. She
turned and saw Zariel slumping forward on Lulu, wearing a look of defeat.

A rider asked, "What are your orders?"

Zariel didn't reply so the man looked to Yael. She also looked lost, but as her eyes scanned over the
battle below, she set her jaw firmly. "Send a messenger," she demanded. "Order Jander to turn
back. Then rally the rest of the reserve. We are going to charge the devil army! We have to keep
them off Haruman’s back!"

Zariel turned to her and hope rose in the angel's eyes. She sat up straighter. "The rest of you form
up on me. We’ll need to intercept those flying devils! Keep them off the riders below!"

Pariah was shocked when Yael slipped off of Lulu's back and plunged towards the army below, but
the woman threw out a feather and her fall slowed. Pariah could see her black steed galloping to get
into a position underneath her fall.

A loud metallic rattling hammered their senses, and it took Pariah a moment to realize the sound
was coming from the real world rather than the memory they were in. Mad Maggie swore in a
language Pariah didn't know. At least she assumed from the tone it was swearing. "Hold on!" the
hag growled.

The pegasi formed up on Zariel's order and started towards the swarm of flying devils in the
distance. Pariah would have liked to see Yael land safely, but her point of view was forced by
Lulu's memory. The view turned towards the fleeing army as they crashed into the defending
demons. The soldiers didn't fight; they just ran past the forces, many of them cut down as they did.
She remembered Lythienne's story back in Candlekeep: They weren't trying to secure the portal;
they were just trying to stampede through the enemy to get home.

Mad Maggie shouted, "The cogbox is resonating with something in there. A powerful memory!
Hang on! I’ve got a shifter around here somewhere."

Fleeing soldiers made it to the portal and started to disappear through it. The demons had been
overwhelmed by the flood of mortal forces, but they were starting to form a defensive line. It
became harder for the retreating soldiers to make it to the portal. A few demons started to follow
the soldiers through the portal, and then the energy field suddenly retracted to a point and
disappeared. She heard a roar of despair rise from the soldiers who hadn't made it, and a bellow of
glee from the demons as they turned to slaughter the mortals.

Then Zariel's force met the flying devils in a chaotic storm of magic and slashing weapons.

Mad Maggie cried out, "I’ve got it!" Pariah winced at the screech of metal on metal, and then the
memory froze and raced backwards.

From Lulu's back, Yael shouted, "We are going to charge the devil army!" The memory suddenly
rewound again. Yael shouted, "We are going to-"

Mad Maggie howled, "Turn, you syphilitic whoremonger."

Yael slipped off Lulu's back and plunged towards the army below. Then she slipped off Lulu's
back and plunged...she slipped off Lulu's...slipped off...slipped...

"There it is," Mad Maggie crowed over the sound of metal grinding and gears crunching.

The battlefield melted away and another memory took its place.

Yael stood next to mammoth Lulu alone on the Avernian wasteland. Yael was bloodied and
exhausted. She slumped against Lulu, one hand clinging to her fur to stay on her feet. Her other
hand held the glowing Sword of Zariel. Lulu didn't look badly hurt but she was panting heavily, her
breaths kicking up clouds of red dust. Yael was looking behind them where a cluster of black spots
were on the horizon. "The angels weren't able to hold the demons back," she said in
disappointment.

"Look ahead," the mammoth said.

Yael turned to see a cloud in the distance. "Devils I'd guess," she said. "It’s done. There’s no place
left to run."

In a desperate tone, Lulu said, "There has to be something we can do!"

Yael looked at the sword calculatingly. She said, "There is." She hobbled over to look into Lulu's
massive eyes. "Do you trust me, Lulu?"

"To the very end."

Tears started to fall from Yael's eyes as she released Lulu's fur. She raised the sword over her head
and its divine glow brightened, like a beacon calling out a challenge to the approaching forces of
evil. With renewed energy, she called out to the sky, "To all the Gods of the Seven Heavens, I
plead for your aid! In the name of Zariel, Solar of Celestia. In the name of Yael of Idyllglen. In the
name of the mortal souls who have died in this noble cause! I beg a boon to fulfill the final wish of
a dying angel! I beg you not to forsake the greatest and most daring of your warriors!"

Lulu reared back on her hind legs, and released the loudest trumpet Pariah had ever heard her
make. The sound seemed so loud it could carry all the way to Mount Celestia, and yet Pariah felt
calm as it washed over her. She could feel the celestial energy in it, supporting and strengthening
Yael's plea.

And there was an answer.

It wasn't a voice, but a presence echoed back on the waves of sound released by Lulu's cry.
Yael smiled. "Lathander," she murmured. "Thank you." With all of her fading strength, she
plunged the sword down into the rocky surface at her feet. A burst of holy light burst from the
sword, racing across the evil land like a tidal wave. Yael leaned against the sword and glowing
energy flowed from her into the weapon.

Lulu cried out, "Yael, no! Stop!"

Yael reached out one hand to stroke Lulu's cheek. "All that’s left now is the dream." The light
intensified into a blinding blast that seemed like it would never end. The ground around it paled
and turned silver, like the sand from the previous visions.

A rumble shook Pariah's very bones as the ground started to shake. From the silver ground rose
walls of alabaster, a fortress that would protect the Sword from the evil around it, an impenetrable
stronghold of celestial might.

But something so holy cannot exist in the evils of the Nine Hells. The skin of Avernus recoiled at
the touch of the divine fortress growing around it. The red wastelands around the silver ground
seethed and boiled, erupting into dark red ooze that flowed across the silver ground to engulf the
alabaster fortress. The rush was so fast that Yael and Lulu were caught up in it. The ooze flowed
over the structure, forming a cancerous, bloody cyst set into the Avernian rock. Yael was
completely engulfed. Lulu was mostly caught up in the cyst, but her tusks interfered with the scab's
formation. As the scaly, crimson growth settled down, one eye was exposed to witness what
happened next.

Flames leapt out of the ground with a strangely muffled explosion, tearing a pulsating wound into
the air. A slim, red-skinned devil more than twice the height of a human strode majestically out of
the portal, his black and red robes billowing dramatically behind him. As he surveyed the cyst,
Lulu's memory leaked into Pariah's mind. This fiend was Asmodeus, the Overlord of the Nine
Hells.

Following him was a hulking devil, as tall as the first but much broader and more muscular. Pariah
knew from her reading that this was a pit fiend. Massive bat wings loomed over him. Unlike most
pit fiends, he wore black armor with copper highlights that depicted faces twisted in agony. His
clawed hand gripped the neck of an angel he dragged along with him. It took Pariah a moment to
realize the angel was Zariel. She was bloodied, her armor dented and rent open. Her right arm
ended in a bloody stump at the wrist. The pit fiend threw her on the ground at Asmodeus's feet and
Zariel winced in pain.

Next through the portal came an obese green devil. Beady eyes stared out of the sagging and
wrinkled flesh of its face. Stunted wings twisted out of its back. It wore robes of fine golden cloth
that were wrinkled and covered in stains. Pariah wasn't sure what kind of devil this was. It also
dragged in prisoners, two human men, battered and bloody, and they too were thrown roughly to
the ground. They struggled to rise, and the obese devil shoved them to their knees. Pariah
recognized the insignia on their breastplates as the symbols of the two armies other than Yael's.

Asmodeus studied the bloody cyst with a neutral expression. He kicked Zariel over onto her back
and gestured to the scab. He spoke to her, but his words were muffled and Pariah couldn't
understand them. However, his tone was not angry or vindictive, not the tone of a conqueror and
his prisoner. He gave Zariel a speech, gesturing dramatically, and the expression on the angel's
face changed from despair to contemplation. She sat up and met his gaze. He snapped his fingers
and a contract appeared in a puff of black smoke, floating before her. He held out to her, hilt first,
an intricate dagger with a silver blade.

The pit fiend roared a protest. Without looking, Asmodeus lashed out with the back of his hand
across the pit fiend's face, knocking him to the ground. Asmodeus didn't take his eyes off of Zariel,
didn't see the look of pure loathing the pit fiend gave him as he struggled to his feet and gave the
barest hint of a bow to his master.

Zariel studied the contract before her and her faced hardened with determination. She slowly
reached out for the blade. Pariah heard mammoth Lulu's muffled objections from the cyst, her eye
wide as she struggled to be heard. Zariel took the blade, gripped its hilt with her teeth, and ran her
left thumb along the edge. She laid her thumb against the bottom of the contract to leave a bloody
smear.

Dark energy coruscated across her body. Her ivory wings withered and darkened, the feathers
turning black with red edges. Her skin went from white to ash gray. Her golden hair burned away
leaving a bare scalp, and her glowing halo burned with infernal flame. She bowed her head to
Asmodeus and then rose to her feet. She turned to the nearest knight and held out the dagger.

The knight took the dagger without hesitation, slashing his thumb and adding his bloody print to
the contract. He was wracked with spasms as flames licked up and down his body. His armor
turned black and spiked, and his face twisted into something fierce and evil. He bowed his head to
Zariel and stood. He held out the knife to the other knight.

The last knight looked back and forth between the two of them, desperation in his eyes. Then, like
Zariel, his expression turned to one of resolve. He took the offered knife, shouted something, and
then ran the edge of the blade across his throat. He glared at Zariel defiantly as blood poured down
his chest, and then he collapsed to the ground.

Zariel looked down at him, a storm on her face. She said something and then dropped to one knee
beside him. She reached out and touched his body. A dark glow from her hand spread across the
man and he started to move. He climbed slowly to his feet, his flesh gray, his eyes lifeless, the
wound in his throat still gaping open.

Asmodeus looked pleased as he turned back to the bloody cyst before him. He studied it, stroking
his beard thoughtfully. He spoke to the others, never taking his eyes off the scab, and then he put
out his hands. He concentrated and power started to thrum through the stone around him. Red and
black energy pulsated in a field around the scab that surrounded the fortress that contained the
Sword of Zariel. The energy formed a cage and within that cage the scab started to distort. It
twisted and bubbled and swirled, and then it shrunk to a point and disappeared. The red and black
energy coalesced into a shimmering doorway. Asmodeus made another gesture and the stone
around him started to rise into a rocky hill that surrounded the doorway, blocking it off. A tunnel
led into the hill, but Asmodeus etched arcane symbols into the rock around it. The tunnel closed,
the symbols faded, leaving a featureless stone face in a hill that looked no different than any other.

The king of devils turned to the others and said something in a stern tone while pointing to the hill.
They all bowed to him. He then swept off through the flaming portal he had arrived in. The others
followed him, the portal closed, and the memory faded.

Darkness surrounded Pariah again, not the swirling black ooze she'd seen before but the darkness
of the void. She waited but nothing happened. After a moment, she realized her eyes were closed
and she could feel the chair she was sitting in. She opened her eyes to see she was back in Mad
Maggie's lair, though she was light headed and having trouble making sense of her surroundings.
The others were stirring in their seats, looking around with bleary eyes. Pariah's disorientation
jumped into sharp focus when she saw Lulu, collapsed in an unmoving heap in the middle of the
pentagram.
Chapter End Notes

As I said in the beginning, I can't take credit for all of the writing here. This chapter is
mostly based on the remix, and I've taken some of the dialogue verbatim from his
page. I try not to do that kind of blatant copy and paste, but sometimes it's the best way
to keep the story moving.

I removed the direct PC involvement in the visions. I understand why the game would
be set up to have something for the players to do; players don't want to just sit there
and drink from the fire hose of exposition. However, their participation in the vision
doesn't really make sense from a story point of view so I made them observers instead.

The last vision is from Avernus as a Sandbox with some additions by me to give a
reason why Lulu would remember this scene, and why the people in the vision would
know where the sword was.
 A War Machine
Chapter Summary

The group comes out of Lulu's memories to find the hollyphant collapsed in a heap in
the middle of the dream machine.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah leapt to her feet to rush to Lulu's side, but had to stop as the room swirled and tilted around
her. She flopped back down into her seat to wait for her head to clear, and was pleased to see
Rowan and Farima staggering towards the hollyphant's limp form.

Rowan knelt down next to Lulu and then breathed a sigh of relief. She looked up. "She's fine."

In a sad voice, Lulu said, "No, I'm not."

Pariah forced herself back to her feet and lurched her way to Lulu's side, sitting down on the
ground along with Farima and Rowan. She could see that Lulu was lying on the ground crying.

Farima asked, "Are you ill? Injured?"

"No," Lulu mumbled.

Pariah could sense the despair radiating off of her. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Did you see it? Did you see it all?"

Pariah reached out to pat her. "I'm not sure. I don't know if we all saw the same thing."

Mad Maggie came over and Pariah's nose wrinkled as the hag's body odor swept across them. The
crone stood over them and snapped, "Of course you did. We all saw the same memories."

"Then you saw," Lulu sobbed. "You saw her agree to serve him. You saw her change. You saw
what she did to Olanthius."

Pariah frowned. "Which one was Olanthius?"

"The one who killed himself. She raised him as undead. Why would she do that?"

"I don't know," Pariah said. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Lythienne asked loudly, "What about the sword?" Pariah looked up to see that she was standing
next to her chair, arms folded, face stony. "How do your memories help us find the sword?"

"I don't know," Lulu pouted.

"Then what was the purpose of this?" Lythienne demanded.

"Give her a minute," Pariah said to her sharply. Lythienne snorted but said nothing. Pariah turned
back to Lulu and said, "That last bit, where Yael called on Lathander. The sword is there, right?"
She frowned. "Or maybe not. Asmodeus sent it away, I guess."

Mad Maggie said, "Probably getting rid of it. Some holy shit like that would be like a splinter in his
brain. You saw how Avernus reacted, sealing it off. He probably sent it away to keep it out of the
hands of Zariel or anyone else who might want it."

Farima said thoughtfully, "But there was a portal, yes? In the hill that rose. A gate that could take
us there. Lulu, do you remember where that happened."

"No," the hollyphant replied gloomily. "I remember a lot more than I did before but I still don't
remember everything. And I don't know Avernus. I guess we were going down the Styx. And then
we ran away from the shore, but I don't know where it happened."

Rowan said, "What about the others who were there? I mean it's not like we can ask Asmodeus or
Zariel. One of the knights was Olanthius, so I guess the other was Haruman?"

"Yes," Lulu admitted.

"And who were the devils?"

Lulu shrugged with an indecisive noise.

Mad Maggie said, "The fat one was Irzik, one of Asmodeus's inner circle. You aren't going to find
him. The other one was Bel, Zariel's second-in-command. His forge is nearby, just down the road
in fact, but he's not likely even to see you much less give you answers."

Pariah leaned back. "All right, then that leaves Haruman or Olanthius. Do you know where they
are?"

Mad Maggie picked a bit of meat out her teeth with a black nail and then popped the morsel back
in. She chewed thoughtfully. "Haruman is at Haruman's Hill. Olanthius...hmm. I've heard the
name, but he's not one of Zariel's generals. From what I just saw, he's probably not in her favor."
She snapped her fingers. "That's it. That bitch Red Ruth talked about him. I think she might know
where he is, but she's a treacherous cunt who will probably just kill and eat you." She cackled and
said, "Or maybe eat you then kill you."

Rowan reached into her satchel and drew out the map they had gotten from Sylvira. "Do you know
where Haruman's Hill is?" She rolled it out on the floor. "Can you show us?"

Pariah looked at the map and felt it getting into her brain like Gideon's journal had, so she looked
away. Mad Maggie bent over too look at it, farting loudly as she did. Pariah gagged at the stench.
The hag said, "Well, well, this is an interesting little treasure. I don't suppose you'd be willing to
sell it."

"No," Rowan said firmly. "Can you show us where Haruman is?"

Mad Maggie made a thoughtful noise and then tapped the map with a nail. "Here." She tapped
another point. "This is Fort Knucklebone. You could follow the road along the river to here.
There's a bridge guarded by Zariel's troops there. Then through the hills here out to this plain.
There is a large hill on the plain there."

Rowan touched the bridge on the map. "Will the bridge be a problem? Will they let us cross?"

The hag shrugged. "You're not demons, so probably."

"How far is that? I mean how much travel time."

Mad Maggie scratched her tangled hair, chasing out a spider. "Oh, maybe two days by war
machine."

"How long on foot?" Rowan asked thoughtfully.

The hag cackled wildly. "On foot? Mortals? Probably never."

Rowan rolled up the map. "All right, then where do we get a war machine."

Mad Maggie straightened up with a cracking of joints. She studied Rowan carefully while clicking
her teeth. Mickey limped up -- Pariah realized he'd been standing by the side -- and held out his
foot to the hag with a grunt.

"I know," she snapped. "I kept telling you I was going to fix that." She spat a blob of phlegm on the
floor. "But fine. You helped Mickey." She growled. "You killed Skednog and Gurkta," she said
accusingly. "And crippled Gnelyr. He's useless. Probably have to make him into stew."

Rowan looked confused, but Pariah had a moment of realization. "The redcaps?" she asked. "Well,
they attacked us first." And technically it had been Mickey who had done that, but she wasn't going
to rat him out.

Mad Maggie snorted. "A pain in my ass they were, 'specially Skednog and his vermin-infested hat.
Good riddance!"

"Oh, uh, you're welcome?"

The hag growled at her, and then said in annoyance, "Come on."

She hobbled out of the room and the group followed her in confusion. She led them into the main
chamber, down the tunnel, and out into the Well. She kept going into the main courtyard and the
tinker's shed. As she entered the latter, one of the kenku let out a squawk and all the bird people
scattered into hiding places. Mad Maggie ignored them and walked up to the machine that Pariah
had seen the kenku working on.

"Those worthless squawkers have been trying to fix this piece of shit for days. I'm sick of it
cluttering up the shed. Fix it and it's yours. If not, we'll junk it for parts." She raised her voice and
shouted to the caves, "Along with a couple of you!" The kenku cowered even more. The hag
resumed a normal tone as she said, "I'll even give you some fuel for it."

Rowan looked over the machine uncertainly. "None of us know how to fix anything like this."

Mad Maggie snorted in derision. "Then I guess you'll be walking. Not my problem." She hobbled
towards the gate, the conversation apparently over.

Pariah looked at the machine. It certainly wouldn't hurt to try, but she didn't see how they could do
any more than the kenku could, especially since she and her companions weren't experienced with
this kind of thing.

She did a quick survey of the group to be sure they were all there. Lulu was sitting on the ground,
her head hung low. Lythienne was standing stiffly nearby, staring daggers at Lulu. Pariah
suspected she knew what that was about but this wasn't the time to deal with it.

Rowan was still studying the machine. Farima was frowning at the ground. Pariah went up to her.
"What's wrong?"

"Hmm?" Farima asked, looking up. Then she tightened her lips and said, "Yet again we seem to be
on the path set by your...acquaintance."

Pariah laughed, though as Farima's expression darkened she knew she shouldn't have. "Yeah, I
guess so. We could always go ask her about this Ruth person, see if she'd help us."

Farima said, "You mean the treacherous...uh...woman who is likely to kill and eat us?"

Pariah shrugged and said with a smirk, "If you are looking for the nice people in Hell, I think you
are going to be looking for a long time."

She thought Farima might be offended, but the other woman just gave her a gloomy nod. "I
suppose you are correct." She shuddered. "This foul place is getting under my skin."

"Don't I know it," Pariah sighed. "Well, let's take a look at this thing and see if we can figure
something out."

Lythienne said abruptly, "I have no skills to help with this, so I will retire to the Well." She turned
and walked quickly towards the gate.

The others looked after her in confusion. Rowan said, "What's that about?"

Pariah looked back and forth between the machine and the gate Lythienne had exited through. "I
think she's troubled by some of what we saw."

Lulu brightened a little. "Oh, then I'll go cheer her up." She flapped her wings and rose into the air.

"No!" Pariah said, a bit too sharply. "Uh, I mean, I'll go check on her. You stay here. Maybe you
can talk to the kenku. They seem to like you."

"All right," Lulu said in confusion, settling back down to the ground.

To Farima and Rowan she said, "You two start looking over the machine. See if you can spot
anything."

Rowan looked at the contraption skeptically. "I'm not sure what we can do here."

Pariah grinned. "Pray to Tymora and then start hitting things with a hammer. Maybe you'll get
lucky. Fortune favors the bold."

Rowan shot her a sour look but then smirked.

Farima was studying the machine as well. "I wonder if the problem is magical rather than
mechanical. That might explain why they have been unable to fix it with their tools."

Pariah looked at her in surprise. "That's actually a really good idea. Can you check that?"

Farima folded her arms and furrowed her brow. "Perhaps. If not, then Zephyr Shavar might be of
assistance, if we can afford his fees."

"Well, you guys check that out. I'll be back in a bit." She headed off after Lythienne.

Lythienne was just sitting down at one of the tables, a glass of wine in her hand. Pariah gave her a
nod and stopped by the bar. "Mead, please," she said.
Tasha started filling a mug from one of the barrels behind her. "Is this on the same tab as hers?"
She nodded at Lythienne.

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Sure. After all, if you don't pay, I know where you sleep." Her tone was jovial with just a hint of
hardness to it.

Pariah took the offered mug and then walked over to take the seat across from Lythienne, who was
sitting in a brooding silence. They drank without saying anything for a bit and then Pariah said,
"So...that was certainly a thing."

Lythienne snorted. "Yes it was. Especially the part where Lulu encouraged Zariel to raise an army
of mortals."

Pariah sighed, "Yeah, I heard that too." She hesitated, not sure whether it was a good idea to feed
Lythienne's anger, but Lulu could be a problem for all of them. "Did you feel her emotion in the
memories? Her devotion to Zariel?"

Lythienne stared into her drink. "I did. And I saw that it was her idea to hide Zariel's plan from the
Heavens."

"Yeah," Pariah sighed again. "I had assumed it had all been Zariel but Lulu clearly played a part,
too." Quickly she added, "But I don't think Lulu is a bad person. I think she wanted to help and
both of them underestimated what the demons would do in response. She's not our enemy. She
likes us."

Lythienne shook her head. "She likes us as one would like a dog. She looks down on us mortals."
Pariah didn't agree, but before she could speak, Lythienne's brow furrowed as she said, "And
another thing. I had always thought of her as a subordinate of Zariel's, following out of blind
devotion. But Zariel didn't talk to her like she was a mount or a pet or an underling. They spoke as
equals. Zariel obviously inspires great devotion. We saw one of her generals follow her into evil
without hesitation."

Pariah ran the scene through her mind again. "And we saw the other general cut his own throat
instead, so not everyone follows her mindlessly."

Gloomily, Lythienne said, "But he still ended up serving her in the end. She didn't even respect his
desire to die. Typical!"

Pariah sipped her mead while she considered the situation. She had mediated many interpersonal
conflicts in The Forgotten. Everyone had their own priorities, but one thing had to be sacrosanct:
the crew comes first.

She put her mug down on the table. "Lythienne, I understand your problems with Lulu's past and
her divided loyalty. I even agree with you to a point. But we can't lose sight of something. We are
mortals in Hell. We have to work together. We have to stand together against the horrors around us,
or those horrors will tear us apart. Can you do that? Can you work with Lulu?"

Lythienne made a sour face and leaned back in her chair. She looked up into the sky, watching
some creature fly lazy circles over the fort. "I have been thinking about that myself. If we were
back in Baldur's Gate, I think I would leave the group. But we aren't. So I can't." She looked back
and met Pariah's gaze. "And you are right. We have to stick together."

She leaned forward and rubbed her face. "I meant it before when I said that I liked Lulu. And I
know that she makes a convenient target for anger that has been buried for a lot of years, so I'm not
necessarily being fair to her." She looked at Pariah again. "I've made more than a few unholy
alliances in my time. I can make this one."

Pariah studied her. Lythienne's words seemed to be genuine. "Good," Pariah said. She frowned and
added, "I'm concerned about Lulu's telepathy, though. She's not easy to keep secrets from and I'm
worried how she might react if she realizes how you feel."

Lythienne laughed bitterly. "Well, it's not like I've been hiding my anger. I don't think you need to
be a telepath to read my thoughts at the moment." She put on a more sober look. "But perhaps it's
time I started to be a little more tactful. Hide my emotions a bit better. And perhaps it's time I
started reviewing some of the mental disciplines I learned back at the monastery. Control my
surface thoughts a little better." She gave Pariah a shrewd look. "What about you, though? Can you
hide your thoughts from her?"

"Probably not," Pariah sighed. "She does seem to have been better about not peeking into our
minds. However, you might end up having to talk this out with her, like I talked to her about my
deal with Levistus. That conversation ended up going better than I expected."

"I was glad about that," Lythienne replied. "I admit I was surprised when you brought him up to
her."

"She already knew," Pariah shrugged. "Letting it fester wasn't going to help."

Lythienne's face clouded. "So we go see Haruman? The general who willingly followed Zariel into
evil? An active participant in the abuse of the soldiers under his command?"

Pariah smirked and gestured at Lythienne's face. "If that's an example of hiding your emotions, you
aren't good at it."

Lythienne hesitated, and then gave her a bright smile and a musical laugh. "You are right. I shall
have to be more careful. But, to my question, is that where we are headed?"

"I suppose so," Pariah said uncertainly. "I'm not sure why though. Levistus never tells me his
plans. Torm doesn't seem to be any better. He hinted that we need to find Zariel's sword, but what's
that going to prove? Fucking immortals." She finished the last of her mead. "You want to sit here,
or should we go back and see how the war machine is coming?"

"Talona's saggy tits!" Pariah spat, throwing the wrench to the ground. "I don't get it. It should
work. This gear just won't move and I don't see why!" She didn't know big machines like this, but
once she looked it over she had found that the mechanism wasn't that complicated. She wasn't sure
how it was powered, but the movement of the parts was quite simple.

"I don't see why!" agreed the kenku.

"I don't get it," said another. Pariah had gotten used to hearing her voice from them.

Farima was bent over the engine, being careful not to actually touch anything. Pariah was smeared
with grease -- at least she hoped the black substance was grease -- but Farima had been careful not
to come into contact with any part of the machine. Farima said, "I do not understand the mechanics
of this device, but I believe that the motive force is magical. Probably infernal energy of some kind
stored here." She pointed to a tank in the middle of the machine. "However, I am not familiar with
this kind of infernal arcana so I cannot trace the flow."
Lythienne said, "Do you think Shavar could help with the magic?"

Farima straightened up and nodded. "Yes, he may have the analytical spells we need to diagnose
the defect."

Lulu piped up, "I'll get him!" and fluttered off.

Pariah looked up and opened her mouth, but Lulu was gone before she could say anything. To the
rest of the group, she said, "I'm not sure it's safe for any of us to be alone. Especially her, since
she's a celestial."

"You make a valid point," Farima agreed. "I shall accompany her." She rushed off.

Pariah looked over the machine again, not trying to diagnose it but looking to see how it worked. It
was roughly similar in size and layout to the machine she had seen in the courtyard: a massive
frame on six spiked wheels. The helm was a chair mounted about a third of the way from the front
end, and facing a panel with a wheel and several levers. Behind it was a metal tank with a latched
access panel, a large horizontal slot in the side, and a rod sticking out of the top.

The front of the machine sported a pair of open jaws like the machine she had seen in the
courtyard, and now that she was looking closely she saw behind it was a space for someone to sit
and operate the lever that seemed to control it. Armored harpoon stations were mounted on
elevated platforms left and right, and in the back was a huge metal ball on a chain. There was a
covered area between the helm and the back end with four more crude seats bolted to the frame.

Pariah turned as she heard Farima's voice. "...and we thought you might be able to view the
magical flows and determine the problem," she was saying to Shavar as they entered the tinker's
shed.

"Of course, of course," he said as he approached the machine. "I have done some work on these
vehicles before. They need mechanics to handle the metal, and magicians to handle the energies."
He hesitated and said, "And on the unpleasant subject of monetary compensation, I am afraid I
must ask for ten Emporium chits for a diagnosis."

Pariah dug into her pouch. "Of course," she said. She pulled out a handful of tokens and counted
out ten of the Emporium ones.

Shavar pocketed the payment with a polite nod and then turned to the machine. He made some
arcane gestures and chanted some words, and then shrewdly studied the machine. He traced
something visible only to him from the tank in the middle through the workings of the machine
until he reached the stubborn gear that wouldn't turn. "Ah," he said. "I see the problem. It
sometimes happens when the machines run over demons. The demonic ichor pollutes the diabolical
energies, creating a sort of magical clog. They have cleaned off the demonic fluids, but the magical
taint remains. It can be removed with any spell that erases magic or evil. I could provide such a
service for...let me see...well, because you are my friends, let us call it a hundred Emporium chits."

Pariah considered the offer. That would nearly wipe them out, though they also had some gold and
silver that he might take instead. A vehicle like this certainly cost much more than that to buy, and
she suspected that Mad Maggie had been right about the fate of mortals who walked the Nine Hells
on foot.

Rowan pulled a rolled up parchment out of her satchel. "Would this prayer be able to fix it?" she
asked, unfurling it and showing it to him. Pariah recognized it as one of the scrolls they had found
in the ossuary.
He looked it over and, with just a trace of disappointment in his voice, said, "I cannot guarantee the
efficacy of magic scribed by others, but I must admit it looks like this prayer stands a good chance
of working." He pointed to the gear. "Just be sure to focus it at this spot so you don't disrupt the
magic flow across the entire vehicle."

Rowan looked at the others. "Should I give it a try?" Nobody had any objections, other than
possibly Shavar who wasn't happy he'd lost a sale, so she held the scroll before her and started to
read.

The prayer boiled down to, "Hey, Torm, could you get rid of this magic? Thanks," but said in a
longer, more flowery way.

A warm glow emerged from the air around the gear. Black sparks erupted, causing everyone in the
group to jump back, but then the energies dissipated leaving behind the smell of ozone and sewage.
Pariah looked at the machine but nothing seemed different. "Is that it?"

Shavar studied the mechanism and nodded. "Yes. The magical energies are flowing correctly now.
The machine should function."

One of the kenku scrambled up to the helm and started pulling levers. The engine started with a
throaty roar that shook Pariah's bones. The kenku driver waved for them to get out of the way and
everyone moved to the side, clearing a path to the gate. The kenku turned the wheel and pushed
slightly forward on a lever that came out of the floor. The roar rose in pitch and the spiked wheels
started to turn. The vehicle lumbered forward. The surrounding kenku erupted into sounds of happy
music and deep-voiced shouts of victory as they danced around the yard.

Pariah followed the vehicle as it moved out the gate into the main courtyard. The kenku steered it
until it was parallel to the outer junk wall. He then pulled the big lever back and the vehicle
stopped. He flipped another lever and twisted a small wheel, and the engine sound died away.

Pariah said, "I guess we have a way to travel then."

Farima looked it over with a distasteful look on her face. "Which of us will pilot this dread
machine? I would rather not."

Lythienne said, "I don't suppose any of you have driven magical carts before." Her tone was half
joking and half serious. From the chuckle she got, it was clear none of them had. "Well," she said,
"I imagine we will all be driving it. We may need to take turns."

"That's true," Pariah said. "Wait," she said to the kenku who was climbing down. "Can you show
us how to drive this?"

The kenku cocked its head back and forth and then nodded. He waved her aboard and Pariah
climbed up. Rowan and Lythienne followed, but Farima stood uncertainly below them, Lulu by her
side.

Pariah said, "We should all learn how to do this. In an emergency, any of us might have to drive it."

Farima's face darkened. "Very well," she said unhappily. She climbed aboard, trying not to touch
any more of the machine than she had to.

Lulu fluttered up next to her. "I don't like it either," she said in a stage whisper.

The kenku explained mostly with gestures, occasionally with sound effects, and rarely with
snippets of conversation. Despite the complicated control panel, operation didn't seem that hard.
You moved the main lever to set your speed, then used the wheel to turn. If you pulled the lever
back far enough, the vehicle could move backwards slowly. There was a brake for faster stopping.

There were other levers, and Pariah had trouble understanding what those were for. One seemed to
control how the power went to the wheels. You could send power only to the massive back wheels,
or to all six wheels together. She didn't know why you'd want one over the other. Another locked
the wheels completely, although again she didn't see the point of that, though maybe it was like a
wagon parking brake. The rest she didn't understand at all.

The kenku ended the lesson by turning to the metal tank behind the helm. There was a gauge
mounted there similar to steam gauges she'd seen on some of the contraptions the priests of Gond
used. The needle was about halfway between the midpoint and the left edge of the gauge. The
kenku put a finger over the needle and made engine noises. He moved his finger to the left and,
when he reached the edge, the engine noises puttered down and stopped. He moved his finger all
the way to the right and started the engine sounds again. He slowly moved his finger across the
gauge, and when he got to the left edge, the engine noised petered out again.

Pariah studied the gauge. "When the needle goes here, the engine stops." The kenku nodded
excitedly. Pariah said, "What makes the needle move left."

The kenku made engine noises and mimed turning a wheel. Pariah said, "Driving the machine?"
The kenku nodded. Pariah asked, "Then how do we make the needle go to the right?"

The kenku pointed to a horizontal slot in the tank. He emitted the noise of metal on metal, then
made the motion of the needle moving to the right. Pariah thought about it but said, "No, you've
lost me."

Lythienne said, "It's fuel. You put more fuel in that slot." The kenku nodded happily. Lythienne
said, "Where do we get fuel?" The kenku held out his thumbs and fingers to make a circle, but that
didn't help Pariah.

Rowan said, "Didn't Mad Maggie say she'd give us fuel?"

Pariah thought about it. "Yeah, I guess she did. We'll have to go ask her." She suppressed a
shudder. She didn't look forward to being around the hag again.

The kenku was waving to get her attention again. He pointed to a rod sticking out of the top of the
tank. He grabbed at the air and then screamed. He pointed to the rod again and shook his head
violently. Pariah said, "It hurts if you grab that?" The kenku nodded. Pariah said uncertainly, "Um,
OK."

"Look!" Lulu said excitedly "Look!"

Lulu had gotten bored pretty quickly and had been flying around investigating the machine. She
was sitting on one of the harpoon launchers. The mechanism was unloaded, but a bundle of
harpoons were secured to the weapon. One of the harpoons was glowing brightly.

"What's that?" Pariah asked the kenku. "Is that bad?"

The kenku looked as confused as she was and he shrugged.

Lulu said, "No, I did that. Look." She waved her trunk and the harpoon stopped glowing. She then
pointed her trunk at the railing on the side, and a section of it started glowing. "I can make stuff
light up! Look!"
 "That's very nice, Lulu," Pariah said, trying not to sound patronizing, "but we're busy."

"No, no," Lulu said impatiently. "You don't understand. I remember. I remember my magic. Well, I
mean, just a little, but I remember." She furrowed her little elephant brow. "Um, let me try
something." She pointed her trunk and said a word. Pulses of light shot into the air. They dissipated
after a few feet, but Lulu giggled, "See, I can do that too. They hurt. I used to be able to hurt the
bad people with those." She flew up and shot out another spray of light.

Farima said in wonder, "That is delightful, Lulu. Is this because of the dream machine?"

Lulu alit back on top of the harpoon launcher. "I guess so. I was thinking about what I saw and I
just suddenly could remember how to do stuff. It's kind of like I remembered where the energy is,
and now I can get it." She strained but nothing happened. In disappointment, she said, "Well some
of it. I still can't change into a bigger me. But I can do some things. I'll keep thinking about it and
maybe I can do more."

A wave of exhaustion washed over Pariah. Working on the machine in the unending heat had
drained her of energy. "I think this calls for a celebration," she said. "Let's head to The Well and
see what she's got."

Chapter End Notes

I typically don't roll skill checks. For laughs, I decided to do it this time. To diagnose
the war machine requires a DC 15 Arcana or Investigation check. Farima has +4
Arcana, I allowed advantage because they were all looking at it, and I even had Rowan
do Guidance for a +3. Farima rolled a 1 and a 6, for a total of 13 on a DC 15 check.
Grr...

The problem is, they really need that war machine. I'm a believer in that you can roll
again if you can change conditions. Paying Shavar for a Detect Magic seems like a
good example, since it cost them money and I can see that it would provide additional
information. This time she rolled 16 and 19 -- much better!

I decided to rework Lulu's mechanics. I'm using the Sidekick rules from Tasha's, with
a base of the Hollyphant Youngling from Lulu's Guide to Hollyphants. This allows her
to slowly come back into her powers rather than having them dumped on her at certain
points in the story. I'm making her a level 2 sidekick now, and she'll gain 2 levels each
time the characters gain 1 until she catches up at level 12. The unearthed memories
from the Dream Machine are a great opportunity for her to "remember" her powers all
of a sudden.

In total, she loses some stuff and gains some stuff but is about the same level of power.
For example, she can use her trumpet 2/day now (I had house ruled 1/day) but it does
50% damage of a full hollyphant. Her stats are MUCH lower, but she gains some
spellcasting, including a damage cantrip. Plus she will naturally grow alongside the
party.
 A Difficult Departure
Chapter Summary

The party prepares to leave Fort Knucklebone and venture out into the Avernian
wastes.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah worked the gristle out of her teeth and spat it onto the stoneware plate laying on the table
before her. The meat had been rotten, stringy and overcooked, and not a cut she recognized. She
had briefly considered asking Tasha what animal it came from but decided she was better off not
knowing. Lythienne had been more curious, and was currently at the bar chatting with Tasha about
local plants and animals that might be safe for mortals to eat.

She chewed on the last bite of the purple tuber that had also been part of the meal, and then took a
sip of vile mead to wash down the foul vegetation. "Talona's tits, sometimes I think I'd rather go
hungry," she grumbled.

Nobody answered her. Rowan was pushing the last bite of her food around on the plate. Farima
was staring off thoughtfully into the distance, her meal only half eaten. Lulu was perched on top of
the hill behind the fort, looking out over the wastelands. She was still struggling over what she had
seen in the dream machine, but was also upset that she hadn't recovered more of her memories. She
didn't know how she had escaped that infernal cyst or Avernus itself. Farima had cautioned her not
to wander off alone, and to stay in eyesight of the rest of them.

Pariah said, "Do we want to leave now, or do we want to get one more sleep?"

Rowan didn't look up from toying with her food. "One more sleep I think. I know that we don't
want to waste too much time for Elturel's sake, but I don't want us to be driving that thing for the
first time when we are all sleepy."

"Good point," Pariah agreed. "Farima?"

"Hmm?" the other woman said in surprise, snapping out of her reverie. "I am sorry?"

"Leave in the morning?" Pariah said. "Or what passes for morning here?"

"Very well," she said distantly and then went back to staring off into the sky.

Pariah studied her with concern. Farima didn't seem upset, but she was being surprisingly distant.
"You OK?" Pariah asked.

"Hmm?" Farima said again. "Oh, yes." She sat up straighter in her chair. "My apologies. I have
been considering an idea I wanted to discuss with the rest of you. We do not know what dangers
face us, and we have little knowledge of the terrain and inhabitants of the area. It would be
valuable to have a local guide with us."

"I guess," Pariah said uncertainly, not sure where Farima was going with this.
"I thought -- with the agreement of the rest of the group -- that we might ask Zephyr Shavar if he
wished to come with us."

"Oh," Pariah said in surprise. "I hadn't thought of that." She considered the idea. "I mean, we don't
know him. I'm a little hesitant to add a stranger to the group, especially one who's been living in
Hell for forty years."

Farima's mouth tightened. Indignantly she said, "I am certain that Zephyr Shavar would be a
valuable and trustworthy addition to the group. Besides, Ryland was a stranger and he proved to be
an essential ally. As did Falaster. Not all strangers are devious."

That didn't mean they weren't, Pariah thought to herself. She was tempted to bring up Traxigor, but
thought that wouldn't help. To be fair, she hadn't gotten a bad feeling from Shavar. He had come
off as a little too polite, a little too slick, but at worst he was a con artist, and she could respect that.
Of course, if that jug he sold her didn't refill in the morning, she'd have words with him.

To Farima she admitted, "It would be helpful to have someone who knows Avernus and can sling a
few spells. I don't mind if you ask him."

Rowan shrugged. "Fine with me. I agree it might be nice to have another one on the team."

Farima looked satisfied. "Very well. I shall ask Lulu and Lythienne and, if they do not object, we
can ask him when we get back to our camp."

"Absolutely not," said Shavar politely.

Farima was crestfallen. "Oh," she stammered, clearly not having expected that answer. "Pardon my
intrusiveness, but may I ask why?"

The air genasi thought about his answer for a moment, his hair stirring in the usual lack of a
breeze. "I have spend many years carving out a careful little piece of Avernus for myself, learning
who to trust, who not to, and most importantly who not to cross. You seem like a nice group, you
really do, but you also seem like you are going to cross people. Powerful people. Bad people. And
that is just not good for business." He reached out to pat her on the shoulder. "I truly wish you luck
in your efforts, but I have worked too hard to throw all of that away."

"I see," Farima said in disappointment. "I suppose that makes sense."

"How about this?" he offered. "Why don't you all join me for tea, and perhaps I can at least offer
some insight on the dangers you might face, one traveler to another?"

Farima bowed her head in deference. "Of course, it would be our pleasure."

The group sat around his campsite while he started the water boiling for the tea. Rowan rolled out
the map of Avernus onto the ground, and Shavar stopped his preparations and stared at it. "Well,
that is quite the remarkable item," he said softly.

Pariah was surprised by his sudden interest. "That's what Mad Maggie said. Are maps of the area
really that rare?"

Shavar tore his gaze away from the map to say, "Yes, actually. It is the strangest thing. Trying to
draw even a simple diagram of the area is quite difficult. I have wondered if it is some kind of
defense against the invasion of the demons, but perhaps it is just a side effect of the otherworldly
nature of the plane. Either way, I have come to rely on my memory and the verbal instructions of
others to navigate the grim landscape around here." He looked over the group shrewdly. "I might
be willing to pay a few chits for such an amusing trinket."

His face was calm and he showed nothing but mild interest, but Pariah could feel the desire
radiating off of him. She was certain he would pay more than "a few chits" for the map.

Rowan said, "I think we should probably keep this. We aren't sure where we are going to end up,
and we'll probably need the help."

Pariah agreed. She didn't want to say anything about Shavar's motivations in front of him, so she
was glad that Rowan didn't seem interested. Farima and Lythienne didn't seem to care either way,
and Lulu wasn't paying attention to the conversation. Pariah said to him, "Maybe when we are
done with our business in Avernus, we can talk about a deal."

He glanced at her with the barest hint of curiosity, and then said dismissively, "If you like. And if
I'm still interested in such a curiosity at the time." He pointedly turned back to his tea making.

Pariah was worried. They had one more night in this place and, knowing how valuable the map
might be, she wondered if they would now be even less safe. "I think we'll pay you for your alarm
spell, though," she offered.

Shavar's expression brightened. "Oh? Well, that sounds delightful. Just let me know when you are
settling down and I'll lay out the cord."

After he had served the tea, he looked over the map. Rowan started to show him their route and
then stopped with a grunt of curiosity.

"What?" Pariah asked.

"It's changed. Look here," Rowan pointed. "Fort Knucklebone."

Pariah looked, squinting as the strange effect of the map tickled at her mind. She saw hills like a
claw with a rough wall drawn around it. She hadn't looked at the map closely before, but she knew
that Rowan had said the fort was not present. Pariah said, "So it changes as we find stuff? That's
helpful."

Shavar said, "I would think so." Pariah could hear the covetousness in his voice as she tore her
gaze away from the map.

Rowan pointed out the route they were planning to take and Shavar nodded thoughtfully as he
studied it. He said, "The road runs parallel to the river. The fighting ebbs and flows but usually
doesn't come that far inland. In fact, you may even pass areas that are between battles. Scavengers
often search the battlefields for weapons and armor to sell. They are usually not much threat,
preferring to run and fight. But beware the warlords. They are not so cowardly."

"Warlords?" Rowan asked.

He sipped his tea and then said, "The battles of Avernus are not only the ones of the Blood War.
Several bands vie for territory. Fort Knucklebone is a neutral area, but that neutrality doesn't
extend all that far." He frowned in thought. "The Goreguts used to be most common in this area,
but they came out on the losing end of a fight with the Eighth Remnant. Raggadragga has only a
few men left." He looked up at Rowan. "In fact, you saw them. They were here when you arrived."
He nodded towards one of the other campsites in the hostel.

Pariah looked over and remembered. "The beastmen?" she asked.

He nodded. "Well, lycanthropes. Wereboars and wererats. The lack of a moon here lets them
change when they want to, and they usually go around in those hybrid forms. I heard Raggadragga
say they were going to re-arm at Bel's Forge, which is the opposite direction you are traveling, so I
think the area should be clear for the next few days. At least until one of the other bands tries to
move in."

Shavar reached out and tapped a point on the river with his left index finger. "Here is Zariel's
Bridge."

That caught Lulu's attention. "Zariel? Is she there?" she asked in excitement. "Is she on the bridge?
Is that why it's called that because she's there?"

"I don't think so," said Shavar in confusion. "She ordered the bridge rebuilt after it was destroyed,
and the new one was dedicated to her. I don't think she actually goes there. She's usually aboard her
flying fortress, visiting different parts of the battle. She has a castle somewhere, but far from here."

"Oh," said Lulu in disappointment.

Returning to the subject, Shavar said, "The bridge is guarded against demons. You can cross it,
though they'll search you and your war machine, and there's a toll. One soul coin will cover the
group."

Pariah's heart sank. "We don't have any soul coins," she said.

"Ah," he said. "The merrenoloths will also provide passage, but they will also charge a soul coin
for a crossing."

"Merrenoloths?"

"Ferrymen of the River Styx. They will take you anywhere along the river and can be trusted to
bring you to your destination safely, but they are expensive. You may be able to find someone
willing to ferry you across for a lower price, though that can be problematic. Sometime they just
get halfway across, rob you and dump you in the river. You could acquire a boat of your own.
There may be abandoned landing craft at one of the battlefields. There are a number of spells that
will take you across, should you have access to such magics. That is the way I cross when I must."
He thought about it and then said, "You could try building a raft, but I would be reluctant to trust
something like that. I assume you know better than to come into contact with even a drop of the
water of the River Styx. Finally you could, of course, lay your hands on some soul coins for the
toll."

Pariah nodded absently as she considered their options. She could fly, and might be able to carry
one other person, but she doubted she could ferry them all over. She could teleport short distances
but the range was far less than the width of the Styx.

Lythienne suggested, "Would Mad Maggie have any authority for getting us over the bridge? Or
anyone else here?"

Shavar shook his head. "Her reputation doesn't extend past the local area." His brow furrowed and
he said thoughtfully, "As for others, Tasha has an air about her. She's obviously more than just a
barkeep, though I haven't figured out what. It's possible she could help but," he shrugged, "I
honestly have no idea."

Pariah was disappointed, but they'd just have to see what they could figure out. "All right," she
said. "Assuming we find a way across the river, what's between that and here." She tapped
Haruman's Hill.

He studied the map and pointed to one place. "Be careful going through here. There was a pretty
big battle there a while back. Lots of demons killed. As you may know, when demons die here,
they dissolve into a black ichor. I have heard there are large pools of that stuff here. It does bad
things to mortals who touch it, but it's valuable. I'd be happy to buy any you collect, as would a few
other merchants. And you can pour it into your war machine's tank for a temporary burst of speed."

Pariah's greed perked up. It could be a good idea to have a way to make some money here.
However, she had long ago learned to be wary of schemes that seemed too lucrative. "But if it's
dangerous, how do we collect it?"

Shavar put on his salesman's smile. "I have the tools you need to make collecting demon ichor
safe." He mumbled, "Comparatively," and then continued enthusiastically, "I will buy filled flasks
for 25 chits apiece, and I can set you up with a collection kit that includes ten empty flasks for 50
chits."

That was a lot, considering their current finances, but it could also be an investment if they were
going to be here for any length of time. Then again, she wasn't sure she wanted to take the chance
with demon ichor. "How dangerous is this ichor? Touch-it-and-die dangerous, or touch-it-and-get-
a-rash dangerous, or touch-it-and-your-fingers-drop-off dangerous, or what?"

He chuckled. "Closer to the latter. It tends to warp the flesh of mortals in disturbing ways. Your
skin might become scaly or as thin as paper. Your eyes might pop out of your head and fall to the
ground. Your tongue might grow barbs and start attacking the inside of your mouth. Those kinds of
things. However, your priest here could probably treat the condition with any prayer that removes
infernal or cursed energies."

There was another thing that had been nagging at the back of Pariah's mind for a while. To the
others she said, "Do we still have those fire breathing potions we got in the sewers?"

Lythienne volunteered, "I do," and fished two vials out of her satchel. Pariah remembered that, as
the only person in the group without ranged magic, the potions had gone to her.

Lythienne handed the vials over to Pariah who laid them down in front of Shavar. "Perhaps we
could arrange a trade."

He picked up one vial and tilted it back and forth in the light. The orange liquid flowed sluggishly
and gray smoke drifted in the small air space at the top. "We are in Hell," he reminded her. "Fire is
not an effective weapon here."

"Against devils, sure," she agreed. "But we've also seen redcaps, undead, and a few mortals. Plenty
of enemies who would be vulnerable."

"True," he admitted reluctantly, "but still substantially less valuable than, say, on the Material
Plane." He made a show of considering his offer and then said, "Very well, these two vials in
exchange for the kit."

She hesitated. She had no idea what the real value of these potions would be, but she knew people,
especially with the devil's sight Levistus had given her. She could detect a hint of avarice and
dishonesty. Feigning disinterest, she said, "I don't know. Useful magic versus some stuff to scrape
up goo. That doesn't seem fair. Maybe we won't bother." She started to reach for the potions.

Shavar's mouth tightened. "Oh, very well, one vial for the kit."
That seemed like a fairer price. She decided to push it a little more and say, "We are a bit cash
poor. Maybe both potions in exchange for the kit and 50 chits?"

He studied her, his face carefully neutral, but then he nodded. "Done."

Shavar counted out the tokens and then laid out a dull green leather satchel and a mahogany box.
Pariah looked inside the satchel and saw a collection of scoops and funnels. Inside the box were
ten metal flasks with screw-top caps. The group stored the new tools among their belongings and
then finished their tea over polite conversation with the air genasi.

Pariah finished the last mouthful of her tea and then said, "I think I'll go talk to Tasha and see if she
has any advice."

As she stood, Lythienne rose as well. "I'll come along."

Pariah looked at the others but they seemed content to stay and continue talking to Shavar, so she
and Lythienne headed into the courtyard. She kept a careful eye out for imps and redcaps, but they
kept their distance.

Tasha was chatting with Barnabas as they came into the Well. The skull was resting on the bar, his
flames wreathing his eyes and forehead rather than engulfing his entire form, presumably so the
wooden surface below him was not burned. Tasha smiled at them as they entered. "Back so soon?
What'll it be?"

Pariah guess that Hell worked like the real world; it was rude to ask a barkeep for information
without ordering something. "Water for me," she said. She had found that the water from the well
that gave the establishment its name was a bit less foul tasting than the water from her waterskin or
the jug, though the others said it tasted the same to them. Lythienne ordered mead.

The two of them sat on the stools at the bar as Tasha served up her water. Pariah took a sip and
said, "I was wondering if you had any ideas about how to get across Zariel's Bridge, if someone
doesn't have the toll."

Tasha poured Lythienne's mead into a mug. "You could find a boat. Or fly. Or teleport."

"Yeah," Pariah sighed. "That's about what Shavar said."

Barnabas said, "Slaughter the guards," whistling the 's'.

Tasha grinned at him. "Well, that creates other complications so it's not a perfect choice."

He grunted. "Back in my day I didn't tolerate that poppycock. Get in my way, poof, pile of ash.
People get the message pretty quick. But, no, we have to be nice now. Don't kill people unless it's
really necessary."

"I think even in your day, you wouldn't go out of your way to piss off an archdevil," Tasha said.

He grunted again but didn't say anything more.

Tasha looked thoughtful. "You could try just racing across. You'll have a war machine, right? Just
go full throttle. There's a pretty good chance you'll make it. They know it happens from time to
time, and as long as you aren't demons they aren't going to care that much. They'll make a show of
chasing you, but not very far."

Another thought occurred to Pariah. If the rest of the group had been there then she might not have
mentioned it, but it was just her and Lythienne right now, and Lythienne had a certain pragmatism
to her. "How easy is it to get soul coins?" she asked Tasha.

She felt Lythienne turning to look at her in surprise, but Pariah kept her eyes on the silver-haired
woman behind the bar. Tasha didn't seem surprised by the question at all. "Buying? The going
price is about a thousand chits to a coin. Other than that, you can get them as payment, like any
other currency. Or you can kill the owners and take the ones they have, like any other currency."

Pariah tapped her fingers on the bar. "I'm not really looking to murder some people for their stuff,"
she said, though she would be willing to indulge in a little burglary. She wondered how many soul
coins were in the fort, and how poorly guarded they were. She didn't want to say anything more in
front of Tasha.

Barnabas mumbled to himself, "Kids today. Not wanting to murder people. Ridiculous."

Pariah ignored him and said to Tasha, "Do you know of anyone who might be able to get us
across? Some kind of official travel pass or something?"

"Some of the devils might, if you are willing to work for them and if they have enough pull."

"Anyone other than devils?" Pariah asked pointedly.

Tasha looked confused by Pariah's tone. "No. Why do you ask?"

Pariah knew sometimes you played things close to the chest, and other times you didn't. She
decided to be blunt. "Shavar thought you might have some connections."

"Me?" Tasha laughed. "I'm nobody. Just a barkeep. Nothing special about me."

Barnabas swiveled over to pierce her with his glowing eyes. "What about-"

"Nothing special," Tasha said firmly. "Nothing special at all."

"Oh, yes, of course," he said quickly. "You are definitely nothing special. No secrets here." Tasha
shot him a poisonous look and then looked calculatingly back at Pariah and Lythienne.

Pariah spread out her hands. "None of my business," she assured the woman. It was strange. When
she looked at Tasha, she got nothing. Her devil's sight got hints of personality and motives off
people, but Tasha was a blank slate.

Pariah glanced over at Lythienne, who said, "Agreed. Just a barkeep."

Tasha looked unsatisfied but said only, "Sorry I can't be of more help. I say either pay the toll or
push your way through."

Pariah finished off her water and said, "What's our tab up to?"

"Two chits."

Pariah counted out five. "For the help," she said as she put them on the bar, and then she and
Lythienne headed back to the hostel, ready to bed down one more time before leaving the fort.

Pariah washed down the last of the dry biscuit with a drink from her waterskin. They were
finishing the last of the Tymoran biscuits Rowan had summoned the day before. They would try to
stick to rations and hunting from now on so Rowan didn't waste her magic.
She felt a bit better this morning. Her sleep hadn't been as disturbed as the night before, so she felt
reasonably well rested. Rowan's insistence on regular prayer sessions was helping her keep her
racing thoughts under control. She didn't like the thought of getting too comfortable here, but she at
least had some hope that she could keep things in hand in the short term.

Lythienne didn't seem to be having as much success. Her eyes were shadowed and red-rimmed,
and she had a gloomy expression as she stared off into nothing.

Pariah said to her, "It looks like you didn't sleep well." Then, remembering Lythienne didn't sleep,
she added, "Or trance well, or whatever it is elves do."

Lythienne gave her a weak smile. "Yes. Again this place has forced dreams on me when I meditate,
and that is a new experience. I suppose I am still getting used to it." Her face became more serious.
"My dreams are violent and angry, and I will admit that I am concerned that the curse from that
weapon has not left me."

That comment caught everyone's attention. Rowan said, "I could try another purification prayer if
you like."

Lythienne shook her head. "No, I do not think that would help. I have been thinking about it. Your
prayer broke the link with the tanto, but the curse left a scar, a weakness like Pariah's injured
shoulder. It is an injury that continues to plague me even though the source of the injury is gone."
She pursed her lips. "I am concerned how I might act in combat, that I might fly into the same rage
as before."

Pariah moved her arm around, testing her shoulder, and was surprised that she felt no pain. "Then
maybe you'll be glad to know my shoulder is better. Maybe this scar of yours will heal, too."

Lythienne nodded. "That is my hope as well. I trust you all to keep an eye on me." With a sheepish
smile, she said, "I promise that I will listen to any of you if you express concern with my
behavior."

Pariah was restless. She didn't know what was waiting for them out there but they weren't going to
solve anything by remaining in the fort. "Why don't we pack up and get moving," she suggested.

They gathered up their things. Pariah made a point of running through her items to be sure nothing
had disappeared, but it all seemed to be there. Nobody was missing any more hair, either. "You still
have the map, right?" she said to Rowan.

Rowan reached into her satchel, brought out the roll of parchment, and even unfurled it slightly to
be sure it was still intact. Pariah felt relief, and told herself that they should perhaps keep the map a
secret in the future. Too many people had shown an unhealthy interest in it.

The blue dome that marked Shavar's camp flickered out as he emerged, stretching and yawning.
When Farima saw him, she put down her pack and hurried over to stand in front of him. She said,
"We are leaving and I am pleased I had a chance to say farewell." She bowed low. "It was truly an
honor to make your acquaintance, Zephyr Shavar yn Yazdaneh el Soltani yi Suldolphor. May good
fortune light your path."

He returned her bow with a smile. "The honor was mine, Farima yr Sameen el Zahra yi Almraiven.
May you find cool breezes and abundant water in your travels."

They shouldered their packs and made their way towards the main courtyard. Pariah settled for a
quick nod at Shavar as her way of saying goodbye. They threw the packs aboard the war machine
and Pariah said, "So who's going to go talk to Mad Maggie about fuel?"

There was an uncomfortable exchange of glances and then Rowan sighed, "Fine, I'll go."

They secured their bags to racks towards the rear of the war machine, and by the time they were
done, Rowan had returned with Mickey and Mad Maggie hobbling along behind her. The hag
looked over the war machine and snorted. "So you got that piece of shit running, did you? Good.
Glad to be rid of it. Here's your fuel."

She held out a stack of three disks of dark metal. Each disk was a hand span across and about twice
as thick as a finger. The disks were inscribed with Infernal characters. Pariah remembered the
chain devil showing them one of these: soul coins.

The group watched the coins warily. Nobody stepped forward to take them. "Well?" demanded the
hag. "You want 'em or not?"

Pariah remembered the experience of touching one of them. It wasn't something she wanted to
repeat, nor was it something she wished on the others. "Let me put on my gloves," she said,
reaching into her satchel.

That seemed to make Mad Maggie angry. "Either take 'em now or I'll take 'em back. You can walk
for all I care." She started to withdraw her hand.

Pariah quickly reached out and said, "No, I'll take them." She grabbed the coins from Mad Maggie
with her bare hands and was overwhelmed with a babble of voices.

...can't expect me to keep a promise to filth like that...keeping someone like me waiting?...bumbling
idiots weren't supposed to...

Pariah dropped the coins into the war machine like they were red hot. "Thank you," she said to the
hag in a shaky voice.

Farima stared at the coins suspiciously. "Wait, are you telling me these are fuel for this machine?"

"That's what I said, idiot!" Mad Maggie snapped.

"These machines consume souls to run?" she asked in horror.

Mad Maggie snorted in derision. "Of course not, you dumb cunt. What sense would that make?
Souls are valuable. It just sucks out some of the energy, like a horse getting tired pulling a cart.
Burns out the coin itself so it'll have to get reforged, but the soul is still inside."

Pariah thought about that while she put on her gloves. That sounded similar to the healing she got
from dying opponents. She wasn't stealing their souls, just some of their residual life energy. It was
probably like that, she told herself. "How much fuel does a coin provide?"

"Eh, about three days of travel I'd guess."

"And how far is it to Haruman's Hill?"

"What do I look like, a scout? How the fuck do I know?"

A flash of anger surged in Pariah but she saw no point in expressing it. "So we just put the coin in
this slot?"

"Obviously," Mad Maggie said in a withering tone.

Pariah climbed up into the machine and gingerly reached down to pick up the top coin in a gloved
hand. It was surprisingly heavy, but no voices screamed at her so she breathed out a sigh.

Farima said sternly, "Are we certain we want to do this? I am not comfortable using souls as fuel."

Pariah felt conflicted. She turned to Mad Maggie. "But it doesn't destroy the soul, right?"

"Yes, I already told you that," she said impatiently.

Pariah wasn't in the mood for a long discussion. "See, it's fine," she said to Farima as she lifted the
coin to the slot. "It's not safe for us to walk," the coin slipped into the slot with a metallic clank, "so
we are going to need to-"

A man's tortured shriek tore through the air and stabbed into Pariah's ears. She jumped back from
the fuel tank as the scream continued. "What the fuck was that?" she demanded.

Mad Maggie sneered at the tank. Raising her voice to be heard over the man's agony, she said,
"Yeah, some of the souls do that. The pussies whine and cry because it hurts a little."

Farima glared at Pariah. "I told you we shouldn't use these souls in this way," she accused.

The scream died down, fading away as though the disembodied soul had run out of breath. Pariah
realized she was trembling. "Yeah. Sorry. Didn't expect that." She glanced at the gauge on the tank
and the needle had moved all the way to the right. The tank was full. Three days of travel and then
they'd have to figure out what to do.

There was another clank, and the coin dropped out of the bottom of the tank and clattered to the
floor of the machine. The metal was scarred and smoking.

Lythienne said, "We are going to have to get around, and these machines seem to be the best way.
While I don't wish misery on others, these are evil souls. We may need to be willing to make
practical decisions to move forward."

Pariah kept staring at the smoking coin. Mad Maggie said the souls weren't destroyed, but who'd
believe a hag? Reluctantly, she started to remove one of her gloves.

Farima said, "I am adamantly opposed to torturing souls like this. While I am unhappy using souls
as currency, I will not participate in the inflicting of pain, even upon evil souls."

Pariah knelt down and started to reach out towards the coin.

Mad Maggie mocked, "Oh, wah, wah, the poor little people are hurting. Feh! Fine, if you're too
pathetic to use souls, then you can power it yourself."

Pariah touched the metal surface. She braced herself in case it burned her, but the metal was cool
even though it was smoking. She heard a distant man's voice, indistinct like he was talking through
layers of cloth. Please stop! I don't deserve this torture. You'd have made the same decision in my
place. For that much money, you would have...

She took her hand away. "The soul is still there," she said over her shoulder.

Farima said, "While that is a relief, it does not change my mind on the use of these souls." To Mad
Maggie, she said, "How do we power the machine ourselves?"

The hag gave her an evil smirk. She pointed to the rod sticking out of the top of the tank. "Just grab
 that. It will take your energy to fill the tank."

Pariah looked up at the rod and then back at Mad Maggie. "The kenku said we shouldn't touch
that."

"Of course they did. As I said, some people whine at a little pain. But if you all want to be the
noble heroes, then I'm sure you can tough it out." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Lythienne said, "I would rather hurt these evil souls than hurt ourselves."

Pariah shook her head. "Look, we have three days to argue about this. We don't have to decide right
now." She wasn't sure how she felt about using the coins, but she did know she was impatient to
get away from the hag. "If nothing else, we have the toll to cross the bridge."

Rather than starting another debate about who would drive, Pariah climbed into the helm chair.
"Get aboard," she said, more gruffly then she meant to. "Let's get moving."

Chapter End Notes

The idea that soul coins are NOT consumed when used as fuel is taken from the
remix. The module itself is annoyingly inconsistent in its treatment of the value of soul
coins. They are rare and valuable, and yet they are little more than glorified gasoline.
The idea of powering machines with the PCs own energy is also from the remix. It
does damage that cannot be healed by spells, and a long rest heals only 1 HP so they
will wear down over time. My change is that I do a flat 6 HP of damage rather than
rolling.

Many of the ideas for the soul inside the coins are based on the list at
https://www.reddit.com/r/DescentintoAvernus/comments/ebh7v3/20_souls_in_the_soul_coin/

The map changing to show their surroundings is my addition. Honestly, calling such a
small area a "map of Avernus" is kind of like having a "map of the Earth" but it just
shows metropolitan Cleveland. My version of the map adjusts to where you are and
where you are going. It also doesn't talk to you like the one in the module does.

I said a few chapters back that I had reached the halfway point, but then edited the
comment to say I hadn't. Well, this might be the ACTUAL halfway point. It's hard to
tell since I plan to go off script in the final act, but my estimate for total length has
ranged from 430k-450k for a while now.
 A Road Trip
Chapter Summary

The war machine roars its way across the bleak Avernian wastelands as this group of
mortals heads into unknown dangers.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The wind blasted across Pariah's face as the war machine roared down the road. Rather than being
a cooling breeze, it was relentless blast of heat tearing at her skin. If anything, she felt hotter than
she had when they had been stationary. Still, at least the wind kept the biting flies away.

The machine came out of a shallow curve to a long straightaway that sliced between hills on either
side. The scree had given way to something more like true sand that rose only a few inches above
the road. She was glad to see that change. The road was narrow and she'd wondered what to do if
another machine came towards her, but here she could pull off the path until the other vehicle
passed.

She reached down and pushed the throttle lever forward a bit. The roar of the engine grew louder
as they picked up speed, the searing air cutting across her face more sharply. She glanced over each
shoulder to see Lythienne and Farima at the raised harpoon stations keeping watch. She turned
around far enough to see Lulu in one of the seats behind her, panting with her tongue hanging out.
Rowan was in another seat and had all three soul coins in her lap. Her bare right hand lay across
the top one and she was concentrating. That didn't seem like a very good idea, but this wasn't the
time to have a conversation about it.

Pariah turned back forward and concentrated on the road ahead. The roar of the engine was so loud
that it almost numbed her ears, and the rattle of the vehicle even over the fairly smooth surface
shook her to the bones. The driver's seat might have been made for something built differently than
her, or maybe it was uncomfortable just because this was the Nine Hells. There was a stench of
grease and something else that wasn't bad enough to choke her, but it was bad enough to be
unpleasant.

And yet she found that, as long as she didn't think about the motive force, she felt a certain
satisfaction to driving. The speed and the freedom as they raced across the landscape was
something new. It reminded her of riding the griffon, except that she knew she could turn the
wheel and go wherever she wanted to.

Initially they had all taken turns at the controls -- well, all but Farima who adamantly refused to
drive, and Lulu who really wanted to drive but whose body wasn't built for the controls. Pariah and
Lythienne and Rowan had each driven for a short time. It wasn't really that hard to operate: set the
throttle and then watch the road to see when you needed to turn the wheel.

They had also each looked at the controls for the weapon systems. The massive teeth at the front
could clamp down with a great deal of force. Pariah suspected they were designed to be used on
other war machines, though judging by the stains they had been used on living creatures. Similarly,
the wrecking ball on the back would be hard to use on something animate but was probably very
effective on a vehicle or building. The harpoon stations on each side were more obviously designed
for use against demons or other creatures. Farima had detected a faint magical aura from the
harpoon tips.

Pariah stared down the road but there wasn't much to see. A rocky hill was coming up on their left.
The slope was dotted with some scrubby plant life, which was a slight break to the monotonous red
of the wasteland ahead of them. A few stones tumbled down the side of the hill, spilling into the
road. One was about the size of her head so she watched it as it came down, steering the war
machine so the spiked wheels didn't run over it. She wasn't worried that it would damage the
machine, but the ride was bumpy enough without running over rocks.

As they passed the hill, something smashed into the left side of the war machine, tilting it up on
three wheels and sending the passengers flying. A squeal pierced the air as the wheels spun against
the stone surface of the road, unable to find a grip at this angle. Pariah braced a foot against the
throttle lever set into the floor, and between that and her grip on the wheel, she managed to keep
her seat as the vehicle came dangerously close to tipping over. Farima fell from the harpoon station
to Pariah's left, falling across the width of the war machine to tumble to the ground on the other
side. For an instant, Pariah feared the vehicle would tip over and crush the Calishite, but then the
machine started tilting back in the other direction and crashed down onto all six wheels.

Pariah looked to the left and saw they had been rammed by another war machine, one that was
crewed by the beastmen she'd seen in Fort Knucklebone. Lycanthropes, she reminded herself. The
driver was the wereboar who wore a golden circlet. She saw the other male wereboar struggling to
keep from falling out of his weapon station, and the female was clambering back on board. The
two wererats were also trying to recover from the impact.

Pariah renewed her grip on the wheel as her vehicle righted itself. As soon as the war machine's
wheels hit the ground, the vehicle surged forward since the engine was still racing. Pariah's instinct
was to push the throttle forward and escape, but instead she pulled it far back while looking over
her shoulder for Farima. The woman was struggling to her feet and hurrying after them, her face
twisted in pain and her hand pressed into her ribs in the same place she'd been injured by Gideon.
Pariah turned the wheel sharply to the right to make it easier for Farima to reach them, and the
vehicle bucked as the wheels ran over an rock hidden under the sand on the side of the road.

She looked over and saw the other war machine was struggling as well, but they were turning to
give chase. The female wereboar fired a harpoon at her. Pariah threw up her arm and the ice shield
deflected the heavy missile from piercing her chest, but the impact left an ache in her arm. She felt
a flash of anger and a streak of cold traveled back along the path of the harpoon, covering the
wereboar and the weapon she was firing in a layer of frost.

Lulu flew out between the machines and blew a trumpet of sparkling energy that burned across the
fur of their pursuers, and then she veered as the enemy machine surged forward. The chomping
jaws on the front of the enemy machine clamped down on a back wheel with a screech of metal
that made Pariah wince, but her machine tore away from the teeth. Pariah looked over and saw
Farima had managed to climb aboard. A quick survey showed Lythienne aiming the right harpoon
on the pursuing vehicle and Rowan reaching out to cast some kind of spell on Lulu, who had
returned to her seat. With everyone aboard, Pariah shoved the throttle forward and they picked up
speed as they sped across the Avernian sands, leaving the road behind in a desperate attempt at
escape.

"Look out!" shouted Rowan.

Pariah swerved without thinking and then craned her head to look behind her. The male wereboar
had fired a stream of smoking liquid at them. Pariah's maneuver had avoided it, but the wereboar
turned the hose and was able to splash the wrecking ball on the back before the stream petered out.
Pariah couldn't see what it did, but a powerful acrid smell filled the air.

She realized they were headed towards a maze of huge rocks jutting out of cracked and uneven
ground. She knew they didn't have much chance of outrunning these people, especially since they
certainly had more experience with the war machines, but she had an idea. "Rowan," she called out.
"Take the wheel."

Pariah turned to see Rowan summon the cloud of Tymoran coins and send them towards the
enemy war machine, and then the priest came stumbling forward towards the helm. "You have a
plan?" she shouted.

"Yeah." Pariah pointed to a large boulder in the distance. "Head straight towards that rock. Swerve
at the last instant."

"OK," Rowan said uncertainly as she slipped into the seat Pariah had just vacated.

The war machine had plenty of handholds so Pariah was able to keep herself up as she turned to
face the other machine. Farima had climbed up into the other harpoon station, though she was
hunched over in pain. Her staff had been tucked in with the harpoons, so she hadn't lost it in her
fall. After grabbing it, she held it out towards the enemies and said something Pariah couldn't hear.
Behind them, a huge figure of light appeared, towering over the war machines. It stood firm, sword
and shield in its radiant hands. As the enemy war machine closed with it, it swung its sword in a
massive arc. The blade passed harmlessly through the metal frame of the machine to cut through
the crew. The wererats collapsed, one falling overboard to be left behind. The wereboars were
hardier, but the swords tore great gashes through their flesh. The divine figure faded.

Pariah stationed herself at the rear of the deck. She could see the wrecking ball chain had been
twisted and corroded by the liquid that had hit so it was useless now, but that wasn't what she was
here for. She fired a beam of frost that missed the pursuing machine, and then glanced over her
shoulder to see how far they were from the rock they were speeding towards, waiting for her
moment.

The enemy machine was closing with them. Farima saw the wereboar with the circlet call to the
one operating the harpoon, and she took his place at the helm. He stepped to the front of the
machine and focused his attention. Three beams of fire shot out from the circlet towards Farima.
One of the beams struck the armor plating around the harpoon station, but the other two burned
into her. She recoiled in pain, but reached out her staff again. A bolt of lightning arced towards the
enemy machine, spearing through the leader and the wereboar at the acid sprayer, as well as
through the structure of the vehicle. Meanwhile, Rowan's coins swarmed around and harassed the
raiders.

The other vehicle was still closing, but it started shaking violently. Pariah wasn't sure why; the
ground wasn't all that uneven. She wondered if Farima's lightning bolt had damaged something.

Pariah looked behind her again. They were getting close. She turned back but was surprised when
Lythienne came charging past her and leapt off the back of their war machine. She traveled an
impossible arc through the air and came down on the deck of the pursuing vehicle. She launched a
flurry of blows against the driver, skillfully dodging the attacks of the leader while the driver
continued to operate the machine. The wereboar at the acid sprayer came down from his post and
was heading for her as well.

Pariah looked over her shoulder one last time. They were almost there. This would put Lythienne in
danger, but that was the risk she'd have to take. They had taken down the wererats, but the
wereboars were proving tougher, and if they got close enough to use those jaws again or sprayed
acid across the deck, then that might turn the tide. She had to act now.

Pariah reached out a hand and a blizzard appeared in the air between the vehicles. The swirling
snow and ice completely obscured the vision of the oncoming vehicle. She held on tight as Rowan
swerved to avoid the rock jutting up in front of them, but the pursuing machine didn't react in time.
It came out of the cloud of ice crystals and crashed full speed into the unyielding boulder, coming
to an abrupt halt.

"Rowan, stop!" Pariah yelled as she leapt out of the vehicle to land unsteadily on the sand. Her
sword appeared in her hand as she raced forward. She could see the driver had been thrown
forward and was lying across the steering wheel, unmoving. Lythienne was gracefully evading the
blows of the other two. Pariah came up behind the one who had shot acid and them and sank her
rapier into him nearly up to the hilt. She braced herself for the influx of dark energy, but to her
surprise the creature whirled around, ripping her rapier from her hand. He raised his maul, but
Lythienne took advantage of his turned back and launched two punches to his kidneys. He looked
at Pariah in surprise and then collapsed.

Pariah reached out and her rapier teleported from the wound into her hand. The leader was the only
one left, and he was falling back from a combined assault by Rowan's coins, Lythienne's fists and
Farima's bolts of magic. Judging her blow more carefully this time, Pariah slammed the rapier into
his breastbone. It slipped past a flaw in his tattered leather armor, pierced the bone with an audible
crunch, and this time she felt the familiar pulse of dark magic as he died.

She ripped her sword out of the corpse and quickly surveyed the area, but that had been the last of
them. The grumble of their own war machine grew louder as Rowan slowly navigated it over to the
wreckage of their attackers. She cut the engine and silence fell over them.

Pariah continued to scan the area in case there was a planned ambush. "Is everyone all right?" she
asked.

"I am not," Farima groaned. Pariah looked over to see she was sitting on the floor of the harpoon
station, her arms wrapped around her ribs. Rowan was already climbing up to examine her.

Lythienne said, "I think we are all hurt from the crash if nothing else."

As the adrenaline wore off and Pariah's body started to ache, she realized that was true. "Let's take
a rest while Rowan does her thing." She longed to sit down but she decided to look over the bodies
first.

The first thing she did was go to the boss to get the circlet he was wearing. She paused when she
realized he had reverted to the form of a human man with wiry brown hair and a thick layer of
stubble. She looked around and saw that all of their attackers had reverted to human forms.

Regardless of the change to his body, he was still wearing the circlet. Since it was obviously
magic, she took it to have Farima examine it later. She searched him and found three soul coins.
She put her gloves on before handling them.

The other bodies didn't have anything other than poor weapons and ragged armor. Aboard their
machine she found a stash of over a hundred obsidian chits, but once she looked them over she saw
that most of them were uneven chips of stone with crude drawings of a face with tusks. She
suspected they weren't worth much. She found a handful of the oval ones that Tasha had called
Emporium chits and fished those out. She debated about leaving the other ones behind, but it was
easy enough to take them along and see if they could be spent anywhere.

Rowan called out, "Pariah, come over here and let me look at you."

Pariah saw the others were gathered on the deck of their war machine. "I'm fine," she called back,
but headed over to sit with the others. She felt the aches and knew she'd have some bad bruises
soon, but she could power through.

Rowan started examining her. Pariah asked, "How is everyone else?"

"Farima definitely has a broken rib this time," she said. Over her shoulder she teased, "I thought I
told you to take it easy."

Farima replied, "Technically, you instructed me to avoid being punched in the chest by undead
priests. I have followed those instructions to the letter."

Pariah chuckled and then winced as her sides ached.

Rowan continued, "Lulu twisted her leg in the crash, but she'll be fine in a day."

"It hurts," Lulu whined.

"I know," Rowan replied. "But you'll feel better after a good night's sleep. Other than that, the
usual bruises and cuts we tend to rack up. I suggest we rest here for a bit before getting back on the
road."

Pariah looked over at the bodies. "I guess that was Ragga-whatever that Tasha told us about. I
thought he was going in the other direction."

Rowan leaned back, her quick examination done. "I guess he decided to ambush the new people
instead. Probably thought we were easy targets."

Lythienne said, "I'm concerned that he apparently knew where we were going."

Pariah tried to remember if they had talked about going to Haruman's Hill while the lycanthropes
were still in the fort but couldn't recall. "Maybe they were just laying in wait for anyone." She
looked over at the ambush point and saw it was a hollow between two hills, just big enough to hide
a war machine. She pointed up to one of the ridges. "Probably had one of the wererats up there
watching for easy targets. The other one on the other hill looking in the other direction. It's what I
would have done."

Lythienne looked over the hills. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense. I guess I'm getting paranoid."
She looked troubled. "About that -- negative emotions I mean." She seemed reluctant to speak, but
then sighed, "I must admit that I felt an uncharacteristic anger during the battle, like an echo of
what I felt when using that cursed blade. It wasn't as strong as before, and perhaps I am just
convincing myself of nothing, but I am usually much calmer in a fight."

Pariah studied her but didn't get any sense of rage now, though that had been the case after her
fights in the past. Lythienne's leap had seemed uncharacteristically reckless, but she didn't want to
presume anything. "It might just be this place," she suggested. "It's getting to all of us one way or
another. You admit you've been having nightmares, which you aren't used to. Maybe it's just
stress."

"I hope so," she said doubtfully.

Farima said, "We shall monitor you. Well, that is, I should say we will all monitor each other for
changes in behavior, to ensure the hardship of this dread plane does not harm us excessively."

She had picked up the circlet and was examining it with a critical eye. Pariah asked, "Can you tell
what that is? It's magic, right?"

Farima nodded distractedly. "That much is clear. From what we saw -- and what I felt -- it shoots
out beams of great heat. There is writing inscribed inside the band but I cannot read it." She looked
up at Pariah with the corners of her mouth pulled tight. Distastefully she said, "I believe it might be
Infernal. Can you read this? It might be the control phrase to activate it."

Rowan reached over to take it from her and pass it to Pariah. Pariah looked at it and the words
translated in her head into Common, but if she concentrated she could also see them as Infernal.
"Well, in Common it says something like 'hot beam'. But if you need to say it in Infernal, it's
shtsawtzak weakh."

She suddenly realized she maybe shouldn't have said that out loud while holding the item, but no
jets of fire shot out. She looked up at Farima who seemed to understand her concern. Farima said,
"One must wear the item to activate it. And I believe that it requires time to recharge between
uses."

Pariah nodded, and then held it out towards Lythienne. "You're the only one who can't shoot magic
at people. You want it?" She looked around. "Anyone mind?"

Nobody else seemed to care. Lythienne took the circlet but looked at it suspiciously. "Well, the last
magical item I used proved to be problematic. Can we trust this?"

Farima thoughtfully studied the circlet in Lythienne's hand. "Magic cannot reliably detect curses,"
she admitted.

Rowan said, "Prayer might. I could ask The Lady to guide me."

They settled in and Rowan prayed to Tymora for healing, and then prayed to her for guidance
while spinning coins in the plate from her mess kit and carefully studying which side came up.
Pariah eventually got bored watching her so wandered off to look at the damage to the two war
machines.

Their machine had plenty of new dents and scratches from the collision and the enemy machine's
metal jaws. None of it looked like it would be a problem, though they'd have to get it fixed
sometime. The bigger problem was the wrecking ball in the back. The metal of the chain had
corroded under the acid but only two links seemed weak. It might be possible to remove the
damaged links and rejoin the chain, or replace the chain entirely.

The enemy machine was much worse. She didn't know much about these things, but even she
could see one of the axles was bent. During her examination she also realized that the wheel at the
helm wouldn't turn. She found some spare parts and more tools, and she collected those since she
guessed there was more damage in their future.

Rowan declared the circlet safe and Lythienne cautiously slipped it on her head. She jumped when
the circlet shrunk from wereboar-sized to elf-sized. She quickly took it off too look at it
suspiciously. "I suppose the fact I can remove it says something." She turned to Pariah and held it
out. "Here. Take it."

Pariah took the circlet from her, confused. "You don't want it?"
 Lythienne shook her head. "It's not that. I just wanted to be sure I can give it away. I'll take it back
now, if you don't mind."

Pariah laughed and handed it to her. "I guess that makes sense."

Lythienne put the circlet back on. She and Pariah tried to fix the chain. Cleaning off the acid and
removing the old links wasn't hard, but they couldn't muster enough physical strength to bend a
new link to repair the chain. Pariah grunted in defeat and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "I
guess we'll have to wait until we get back to Fort Knucklebone or somewhere else. Too bad. That
might be nice against someone chasing us."

There was nothing else keeping them there. Lythienne offered to drive this time. Rowan and Pariah
decided to keep watch so that Farima could rest, though sitting in uncomfortable metal seats in a
shaking war machine speeding down the road probably didn't fit the definition of "rest".

Lythienne started the rumbling engine, and then carefully steered the vehicle back out onto the
road. As Pariah had done, she drove slowly at first and then increased the speed as she felt more
confident. It wasn't long before the war machine was up to full speed, roaring down the road
towards the crossing at Zariel's Bridge.

Chapter End Notes

I was using the chase rules from the DMG plus the rules in the module plus making up
stuff on the fly. Being knocked out of the vehicle was the results of a critical fail on
the crash save. FOUR of the ten people critically failed! Plus any PC who critically
fails on a damage save has to make an injury save. Lulu was successful on the injury
save so she'll be fine after a long rest. Farima failed so I bumped her level 1 torso
injury to a level 2 (roll CON saves at disadvantage, can't dash). That could stick with
her as long as three weeks, barring extra healing.

The enemies had some of the alternate weapons from the module, though I changed
the acid sprayer to be a stream rather than a cone because otherwise the 9d8 damage is
a TPK waiting to happen.

I had this image of Pariah popping out her wings, flying over to grab one of the
wererats, and dropping him in front of the enemy machine. The wheels do 4d10
damage, double if the target is prone. That would have chewed him to hamburger and
been very dramatic, but there was never a good opportunity.
 A Mysterious Wreck
Chapter Summary

The war machine continues down the road that parallels the River Styx as they make
their way towards Zariel's Bridge.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah leaned against the waist-high metal plating that surrounded the harpoon station. The metal
was hard and rough, and it jammed against her hip every time the vehicle hit a bump, but she was
getting fatigued from standing. The monotonous terrain bored her, though at least they had passed
out of the main battle area. Now they could see across the mostly flat plain to the river's edge.
There were no more fortifications or demon boats this far along.

The air blasting across her seemed even hotter than before. She had tried sitting down, letting the
armor plating shield her from the wind, but then she hadn't been able to see well. After that
ambush, she figured it was important that they stay vigilant to the many threats of Avernus. Earlier,
Rowan had spotted a herd of massive humanoids ambling lazily along near the road on her side.
They had passed close enough to get a decent look at them. They looked like morbidly obese
humans surrounded by clouds of flies. They had moved towards the vehicle, but the machine had
roared past them before they could get close.

Pariah had also spotted blobs moving around the shores of the River Styx. She suspected those
were lemures, the shapeless masses that new souls became when they first arrived in the Nine
Hells, but the vehicle had been too far from the river to be sure. She occasionally spotted patches of
them along the river.

Finally there were the towers that dotted both sides of the river. They were squat, open-topped
buildings of black stone. She could sometimes see figures stationed at the top. They were spaced
such that she could always see one, even if it was just a dim blur far up or down stream. She
guessed these were watchtowers watching for more invaders.

They were between a pair of the towers, that point where the towers on each side were distant and
indistinct shapes, when she saw something else. A hill rose up by the waterway, ending in a bluff
at the river's edge. She thought she saw a shape beyond it but she couldn't make anything out. She
turned and shouted at Rowan in the other harpoon station, but the priest couldn't hear her and was
facing out towards the landscape. She pinched her earring. "Rowan, toss me those goggles. I think
I see something."

Rowan turned, her eyebrows raised. She withdrew the goggles from her bag and tossed them over.
Pariah snatched them out of the air and slipped them on. She had never worn them before so it took
her a moment to orient herself. She scanned the riverbank and finally saw the shape she had spotted
before.

She pinched the earring. "I see a big ship. It looks beached. If it's abandoned, it might be worth
taking. It would give us another way to moved up the river."
Farima's voice said, "It is unlikely it would be abandoned if it were seaworthy."

"Probably," Pariah admitted. "But maybe there is something useful aboard." She didn't have to turn
around to see the disapproving look she knew Farima was giving her. Pariah added, "It's not that
far. It seems like it would be worth the trip."

Lythienne said, "I have to admit to being curious what a ship that sails the River Styx looks like."

Rowan added, "Sure, let's go."

Farima said reluctantly, "Very well. I suppose you are correct that it is worth seeing if the craft is
intact."

The engine roar lowered in pitch as Lythienne throttled back and then turned to move off the road.
She brought their speed up once they were pointed in the right direction, though not as fast as on
the solid road. The ground seemed more solid, though, not the loose scree around the fort so they
were still able to make good time.

The ship was only about a half-mile off so they reached it quickly. Lythienne stopped about two
hundred feet away, engine idling. "Can you see anyone aboard?" she asked.

Pariah was looking through the goggles, scanning the decks and rigging. "No," she said absently,
but she was distracted by the design of the ship. She'd seen many different vessels docked at the
harbor in Baldur's Gate, but nothing like this.

The basic shape of the ship was pretty standard: a wooden vessel over a hundred feet long with a
pointy bit in the front, a flat bit in the back, and a huge mast rising from the main deck. That was
where the resemblance ended. The mast wasn't rigged for sails. Instead it had a silvery metal ring
about ten feet across mounted vertically near the top. A wide wooden beam on the port side arched
out from the prow to hold another metal ring, this one horizontal. The ring seemed to line up with
the one on the mast. Pariah couldn't see the starboard side of the ship, but guessed there was a third
ring over there. She had no idea what they were for.

A logo painted on the side of the ship depicted a tentacled beast framed by four lightning bolts. At
the bottom of the logo was painted the word "LYRANDAR". Below that, in large flowing script,
were the words "MIRROR'S EDGE".

The ship had run aground but seemed intact. Pariah wondered if the war machine would be able to
push it into the river, though that didn't necessarily help them. Getting aboard without being
splashed by the memory-stealing waters of the River Styx would be difficult, plus it would mean
abandoning the war machine. For now, though, the ship was beached far enough inland that they
could make their way safely up the rope ladder that dangled from the prow. The river flowed
sluggishly so there was no spray to worry about.

Pariah's greed wondered what was aboard, but she doubted it would be anything more than useless
coin and a few corpses. She was about to suggest they drive off when Farima said, "I wonder how
it moves."

Farima stared at the ship in deep thought. "I do not know the purpose of the rings," she continued,
"but I would guess the propulsive force is something magical. The design does not look fiendish in
origin, so perhaps it is a vehicle that does not run on the energy of souls."

Lythienne said playfully, "Who knows? Maybe it flies. That would be quite useful."

Farima turned to frown briefly at her and then went back to studying the ship.
Pariah said, "You know, we might want to think about where we are going to sleep. That ship is
probably safer than camping in the middle of nowhere."

They all looked at each other and gave a general shrug. Lythienne nudged the throttle lever
forward and they approached the ship slowly. She stopped the vehicle about twenty feet off from
the vessel and cut the engine.

Pariah studied the vessel. There was no movement, no sound except the slight creaking of wood
from the hull as the sluggish River Styx unsuccessfully tried to pull it off the bank. From her perch
she was still a couple of feet below the deck so couldn't see anything. "I can't help but think that
the first person who goes up that ladder could be ambushed. Should I fly up and look first?"

Before anyone could answer, Lulu said with enthusiasm, "I'll go!" She was away before anyone
could object. She darted up over the railing and immediately had to dodge a metal trident that was
flung from the deck. It missed her and arced down until it embedded itself in the riverbank. Lulu
flew back and said, "Ew, there are a couple of bug men up there. They're ugly. They threw
something at me."

Two armor-plated heads with compound eyes poke up over the railing and look down at the
newcomers. One of them pulled back and she heard footsteps running along the wood of the deck.

Rowan said, "Looks like it's occupied. Should we leave?"

Pariah thought about that. "If they are beached, they might be willing to make a deal if we can
push them back in the water. Maybe they'll carry us across."

"And maybe they'll kill and rob us."

Pariah shrugged. "True."

The bug man who had left was back. He had brought three other bug men for a total of five, and he
had also brought something else. This newcomer stood taller than the bug men and had a sleek
fox-like head and well-groomed reddish-brown fur. He was dressed in a purple robe that looked to
Pariah's eye to be made of high quality material. He also wore golden bracelets and a necklace with
a large jade pendant. One furry paw held the arm of a half-elven woman with long, disheveled
black hair. She was dressed in a white shirt with brown pants and vest, and spiked gloves of red
leather. Her clothing was disheveled and stained with blood, and her face was bruised, but she
looked down at the group with a pleasant half smile. From the way the fox-headed creature held
her, she was clearly a prisoner, but Pariah sensed no distress from her, only a sort of vacant
contentment. Pariah wondered if the woman was drugged.

Lythienne asked, "Are those devils?"

Pariah shook her head, "Nothing I'm familiar with. The bug things might be devils or demons, but
that fox guy doesn't seem like either."

Farima said, "I believe these are two types of yugoloth. They are creatures that inhabit some of the
other Lower Planes like Hades and Gehenna. They are mercenaries who are the embodiment of
greed. That could work to our favor, or our doom."

The fox-headed one called down in a strong tenor voice. "This is my ship and I will not hesitate to
defend it. What do you want?" He spoke Common with barely any accent.

Pariah nodded a greeting at him. "We thought the ship might be abandoned so we were
investigating. Since it's not, maybe you would be willing to ferry us across the river."
He studied her and she didn't need her devil's sight to see the wheels turning in his head. The bug
men watched them as well, tridents at the ready -- well, except for the one whose weapon was now
lying in the dirt. However, he had large pincers that could clearly do a lot of damage even
unarmed. The leader, because clearly the fox-headed one was the leader, said, "Perhaps. Come
aboard. Let us negotiate."

Pariah eyed the rope ladder, again thinking of the possibility of ambush. "We can negotiate from
here," she suggested.

The fox-headed creature gave off an aura of annoyance. He waved off the bug men, saying
something Pariah couldn't understand, though it sounded like Abyssal. The bug men retreated from
the railing. He called down, "I guarantee your safety if you come aboard, as long as you do not
attack, of course. However, I'm not going to shout like some fishmonger in a market. Come aboard
or leave. I do not care." With that, he dragged the woman out of sight.

Lythienne said, "Maybe we should leave. This vulpine gentleman doesn't seem trustworthy."

Pariah agreed with the latter part but not the first. "I'd like to know more about that woman. She
seems like a prisoner. I'm not sure I want to leave her behind."

"We can't rescue every lost soul in the Nine Hells," Lythienne pointed out.

"Maybe, but we can rescue that one," Pariah said in irritation. She let out a breath. "Look, if the
group wants to go, then I'll go. But I'd rather at least find out more. I'll go first. If they attack, I can
fly out of there."

Farima said, "I am apprehensive of this creatures plans for us, but I am apprehensive of his plans
for the woman as well. If it were not for her presence I would agree that we should leave, but my
vote is that we investigate further."

"Yeah, what she said," Rowan said dryly.

Lulu piped up, "There might be other prisoners too."

Lythienne sighed, "Very well. Should one of us stay with the machine?"

Pariah looked down at the vehicle. That was actually a good point. She scanned their surroundings
and nothing stirred. "No," she said slowly. "If a fight breaks out, I'd rather we were all on ship.
Anything that might steal this we can see coming."

She didn't see any reason to wait so she climbed down from the harpoon station, dismounted the
vehicle and headed to the rope ladder. Lulu flew up to keep an eye on the ship from above. Pariah
climbed until she was near the top. She peeked her head over the deck to see that the yugoloths had
retreated to the other side of the deck, against the far railing. The leader was watching her
impatiently.

She climbed on deck and looked around for other ambushes but saw nothing obviously suspicious.
Stairs led up to the forecastle and sterncastle, and each had a door leading to quarters. She guessed
that one of them was the captain's cabin and the other the mates'. A standard-looking ship's wheel
was mounted on the sterncastle. A wide opening in the deck led down into what she assumed was a
cargo hold, and stairs in the far, right corner spiraled down below.

Now that she was closer, she examined the woman. Her left sleeve had been torn off, exposing a
tattooed arm. Pariah could see more bruises and cuts all over her body, and she recognized the
pattern. These weren't combat injuries. The half-elf had obviously been worked over, and yet
Pariah still got nothing from the woman other than a sense of comfortable curiosity directed
towards these strangers. Charm spell?

As the others climbed up behind her, Pariah said, "I'm Pariah. And you are?"

"Vorcas," said the fox-headed creature.

"And who's she?"

He looked over at the woman as though surprised she was mentioned. "She is the former captain of
this vessel."

"And how did she go from current captain to former captain? And where is the rest of the crew?"

"Does that really matter?" Vorcas sighed impatiently.

"Humor me," Pariah said, letting a hard edge come into her voice.

The others were all on deck now, spread out along the port rail. Pariah could feel the tension from
all of them. They were ready for a fight, if need be. Vorcas said, "I do not know the full story. I
heard about this ship, beached on the shores of the Styx, and came here to see if I could salvage it.
I found only her aboard, but I suspect she came into contact with the waters of the river. Her mind
is quite blank."

"Oh," Pariah said. She hadn't considered that possibility. "And how did that happen?" she asked
suspiciously.

Vorcas said smoothly, "You think I did that? To what purpose? I need the knowledge in her brain."

"What knowledge?"

"How to operate this ship, of course. You can see that the design is unusual."

That made sense. Seeing the metal ring on the mast above didn't tell her anything more about how
this strange ship operated. "And you thought beating her might break the curse of the Styx?" she
asked sharply.

She sense a flash of anger from him that was gone instantly. Calmly he said, "I will admit that I
thought she might be faking her disability. I see now that I was incorrect."

Lythienne said, "If you can't operate the ship, then I don't see that we have anything to negotiate."
To the others she said, "Let's go."

"One moment," Vorcas said. "That is what I would like to discuss with you. From reading the
captain's logs, this ship was experimental. She is from a world called Eberron where water
elementals drive ships through the seas. You noticed the rings around the ship? Those are used to
bind the elementals. She had an idea that a water elemental raised from the River Styx would be a
more efficient engine. She was apparently right, but that was her downfall. She wasn't able to
control that much power and the ship ran aground. Her last entry said the elemental was escaping
but she had a plan to contain it." He shrugged. "Unfortunately, I cannot find any trace of the
elemental and her mind is gone so she can't tell me where it might be."

"OK," Pariah said, confused. "What does that have to do with us? I'm afraid I left my pet elemental
at home."
He chuckled politely. "It is possible that the elemental escaped, but I wish to be sure of that before
abandoning this prize. Elementals can be trapped in gems or magical containers. I have ordered my
minions to search for its prison but they have not been successful. If you can find it and I can get
the ship working, then I will take you to whatever destination along the River Styx you like. I will
even offer you the captain's gloves. They have some kind of enchantment on them, though I'm not
certain what. They wouldn't really fit me." He held up a clawed canine hand as proof.

Pariah considered the offer. Vorcas was hard to read, even for her. Like Tasha, there was a kind of
blank slate aspect to him that she couldn't push past, and that made her trust him less. "She goes
with us," Pariah said, nodding to the woman. "She's no good to you."

Vorcas released his grip on the captain's arm to stroke her hair in a possessive fashion. "There are
any number of places that will pay for slaves, even mentally addled ones. And, of course, half-elf
meat is a delicacy to many creatures." Pariah felt her anger rising even as she knew that was
probably his intent. He gave her a sharp-toothed smile and said, "However, the ship has much
greater value than she does and, as it stands, I'm nearly ready to abandon it for a full loss. So, yes,
if you can find the elemental and I can get the ship running, you can have her."

Pariah held his gaze as she said to the others, "Anyone have a problem with that?"

Lythienne said, "Well, to be honest, I question the wisdom of saddling ourselves with a mentally
deficient companion on a trip through Avernus. How much care will she require?"

Vorcas didn't answer the question. Pariah wasn't going to press the issue with him because she
didn't plan to leave this woman with the yugoloth. "Maybe we can cure her," she said. "Rowan?"

"Well, maybe," Rowan said doubtfully.

Farima added, "Since the danger of the River Styx is ever present, perhaps cures to the water's
effect are common. For example, the potion seller at Fort Knucklebone might have something."
She didn't sound very hopeful.

Lythienne said, "Since the demons and devils are fighting at the river's edge, I'd guess they are
immune. They wouldn't care about cures."

"There are other creatures here, though," Farima offered. "They might have a cure."

Pariah snapped, "I don't care. I'll take responsibility for her. I'm not leaving her behind."

There was an awkward silence and then Lythienne said, "Very well. I will not object. I just wanted
us to be sure we understood the consequences of the decision."

Pariah said to Vorcas, "So, do we have a deal?"

He nodded. "We have a deal. You have free run of the ship. My people have tried to find it but
they are not particularly...creative in their ideas about hiding places. Their search method has been
to smash everything. Perhaps you can be more insightful." He nodded towards the sterncastle door.
"I and the captain will wait for you in the captain's quarters, which you are also welcome to search.
Let me know if you find anything."

He said something in Abyssal to the bug men. Four of them took stations around the railing,
looking out over the surroundings. The fifth followed him and the woman into the captain's
quarters.

Lythienne said, "I did not mean to seem indifferent to the young lady's fate. I am merely skeptical
that her fate with us is any better than her fate with him."

Pariah was angry at Lythienne's willingness to write off the captain, but this wasn't the time to
argue. Brusquely, she said, "I'll search the captain's quarters." If nothing else, it would give her a
chance to be sure Vorcas didn't continue to abuse the captain. "One of you search there," she
nodded towards the forecastle door, "and the others head down below." She didn't wait for an
answer before heading towards the stern.

She opened the door to find Vorcas and the captain sitting down at a round table at one end of the
narrow room while the bug man stood nearby. At the other end was a single bed bolted to the deck,
and at its foot was an open chest.

Pariah scanned the room, looking for any obvious places where the architecture looked wrong. She
started moving towards the chest, carefully probing each floorboard with a foot. She reached the
open chest and saw it contained a couple of changes of clothing and a few personal items, but
nothing that seemed like an elemental prison. As she probed the sides and bottom of the chest for
secret panels, she said, "So what are you? I know you are a yugoloth, but what kind?"

"I am an arcanaloth, the wisest of the yugoloths. We tend to be leaders and diplomats."

She nodded absently. "And what brings you to Avernus?"

"Money," he admitted. "When I heard a new front of the Blood War had opened up, I thought there
were probably opportunities. I hadn't expected something like this ship, but I take my fortunes
where I find them."

Her knocking on the chest convinced her that the container was solid. There was a book on the bed
and she reached out to take it. "And what happens if you can't get this ship running?"

"Well, I suppose I'll try getting up to that floating city nearby. I imagine there are all kinds of
prospects for a clever entrepreneur like myself."

Pariah ground her teeth but said nothing. She flipped through the book and it appeared to be a
collection of magic spells. She checked the binding for a hidden compartment but found nothing.
She wondered if the writing contained some kind of code that said where the container was, but
that wasn't something she knew how to solve. Maybe she'd ask Farima. In the meantime, she tossed
the book back on the bed.

She meticulously searched the bed frame, walls, and floor but there was nothing hidden. Vorcas
watched her with interest throughout the process. She asked him a few questions about himself and
he gave careful answers that told her nothing. She didn't get any more out of him about the ship
either.

She ended up back at the table. There was a book there too, the captain's log. She skimmed it and it
was a long description of her experiment to create a new type of "elemental galleon" as she called
it. There was far too much here for Pariah to pore through. She said to Vorcas, "I assume you've
been through this?"

"Meticulously," he assured her. "Letter by letter, looking for some kind of clue, but I can find
nothing."

Pariah flipped through the pages. "Can I take this?"

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

She shrugged. "I like to read. There aren't a lot of books in Hell, so I'm always looking for more.
I'd like to take this and the spell book over there."

Vorcas furrowed his brow. "No," he said slowly. "I still may glean useful information from the log
after we get the ship operational, and a wizard's spell book is quite valuable. I'm afraid they are not
part of our deal."

Pariah tossed the book back on the table, disappointed but not surprised. "All right. I'll go see how
the others are doing."

She exited onto the main deck and was surprised to find Rowan sitting by the mast spinning a coin
on the deck. Other coins lay in a scattered array around her. Rowan studied the spinning coin as it
moved across the deck and then clattered to the wooden surface, showing a shamrock. The other
coins showed either a shamrock or Tymora's face.

Lythienne was there too, standing nearby and watching Rowan. She was holding a stack of books
and smiled as she saw Pariah come out of the captain's quarters. She came over and held the books
out. "I thought you'd like these."

Pariah took the stack of six heavily worn books. The top one was titled Vorpal Justice and the
cover had a bad sketch of a grim-faced man holding a sword, a headless creature at his feet and a
woman on her knees gazing adoringly up at him. "Oh, gods," Pariah said. "This looks awful."

"I read a few passages," Lythienne said. "Truly terrible prose."

Pariah felt a grin spreading on her face as she flipped through the other books: My Flayer, Ardor in
Acheron, Love in the Last War, Held by a Beholder and Tentacle Flumph. Each had an equally
dramatic and poorly drawn illustration on the front cover. "These are amazing! Where did you find
them?"

Lythienne pointed to the sterncastle door. "That's the mates' cabin. Apparently the two who used to
reside there were fans of romance and adventure stories."

"Thank you," she said with enthusiasm. Then, as she remembered why they were there, she asked
without much hope, "Did you find anything else?"

Lythienne shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Farima and Lulu are looking through the cargo hold and
crew quarters. I thought we could go assist them."

Pariah nodded towards Rowan and said in a low voice, not wanting to interrupt her, "She's asking
Tymora?"

Lythienne nodded. "It's a more involved divination than the one for the circlet, but should give
better answers."

Rowan leaned back from her divination and settled back against the mast. "Maybe not," she said.

"No answer?" Pariah asked in disappointment.

Rowan shook her head. "No, I got an answer but it was a strange vision that I don't quite
understand."

Pariah sighed, "F-"

"Don't!" Rowan said sharply with a glare.

Pariah stopped and then finished weakly, "-antastic that she's helping us with such a useful sign."

That got a sardonic grin out of Rowan. "It is, isn't it."

Lythienne asked, "What did the vision show you?"

Rowan's smile faded as she thought about it. "Thick blackness. I was drowning in thick blackness
and I felt my hand touch something. That's all."

Pariah asked, "Black like smoke?"

"No, like water. Thick, muddy water."

Lythienne's brow furrowed. "Or tar?"

Rowan's face brightened. "Yes, tar. That seems more like it."

Lythienne made a thoughtful noise. "There is a bucket of tar in the mates' quarters."

Rowan got to her feet. "Well isn't that interesting. Let's go check."

The three of them went into the stern cabin. Unlike the captain's quarters, this one was a mess. Two
hammocks hung on the wall, still intact, but the rest of the room was scattered with debris. Two
chests had been smashed open, the personal belongings each had contained now spread about the
room. In one corner was a steel bucket and Pariah could smell the tar from the door.

They gathered around to look at the featureless black surface. None of them seemed eager to reach
into the liquid. Pariah looked around and spotted a mop. She fetched it and sunk the handle into the
thick liquid. She had been afraid it would be hard, but the heat of Avernus apparently kept it just
soft enough that the handle sunk slowly into it. A couple of inches below the surface, something
hard blocked the mop handle. "Yeah," she said. "Something's in there."

Rowan studied the bucket. "I'm not sure how we'd get it out. I don't really want to reach into a
bucket of tar."

Pariah and Lythienne nodded agreement. Lythienne said, "Maybe we could dump it out. Take it off
the ship and dump it on the ground outside so we don't leave a mess."

Pariah grimaced. "Or just give it to Vorcas as is. Let him worry about it."

"Well, he'll probably want some proof it's not just someone's hidden money pouch," Lythienne
suggested.

Pariah knew she was right. "Yeah, that makes sense," she admitted. "Besides, once we are sure
what it is, we might want to decide what to do next. How to do the handoff so he doesn't cheat us."

Rowan picked up the bucket. "Right. So let's go dump this and see."

Pariah pinched her earring, "Farima, we found something. Come meet us up on deck."

Rowan led the way back out to the main deck and headed for the ladder. Pariah was the last one
out, casting one last look around the room before exiting the cabin. When she got outside,
Lythienne was already on the rope ladder and Rowan was handing the bucket to her.

One of the mezzoloths was knocking on the captain's door and saying something in Abyssal. The
door opened and Vorcas stepped out, the captain in his grip. "Have you found something?"
Pariah suppressed a curse. She hadn't wanted him to know yet, but she realized it looked like they
were trying to steal it. She put a smile on her face and said, "Probably nothing. There might be
something in this tar so we are going to dump it out on the ground."

"I will come along," he said in a tone that made it clear it was not a request.

Farima and Lulu joined them and soon they were all down on the sandy ground at the base of the
ship. The mezzoloths had stayed aboard, but they were all at the railing watching. Vorcas kept the
captain firmly in his grip as he followed them a few feet away from the ship.

Lythienne said, "Well, here we go." She dumped the bucket. The tar poured with glacial slowness
out of the container, and then a black lump detached from the stream and thumped to the ground. It
was hard to tell anything about it other than it was about the size of a tankard and, from how it had
felt at the other end of a mop handle, made of metal. Lythienne righted the bucket and set it down.

Pariah stared at the lump, not sure what the next step was, but then Vorcas recited a spell and
magical energies scrubbed the tar away to reveal an iron bottle with a brass stopper and arcane
writing on the side. The stopper was chained shut.

"Oh, yes," Vorcas said, letting a little bit of excitement creep into his voice. "That is a common
vessel for imprisoning planar beings." He quickly mumbled another spell and said, "Yes, there is
something inside. That must be the elemental."

"Great," Pariah said, wanting to close the deal quickly. "Just hand over the captain and we'll be on
our way."

Vorcas had been mesmerized by the bottle, but Pariah's words snapped him back to the situation.
He looked over the group calculatingly. Pariah's fingers twitched as she felt the urge to summon
her sword, but she remained still. Vorcas said, "Very well. Back away from the flask. Once I have
it, I will release the captain."

"How about you send the captain over now, we get on our war machine and leave, and you can do
whatever you want with the flask."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Back away from the flask. Now. Or I will kill the captain and take the
flask."

The captain watched this exchange impassively, clearly not understanding the conversation.

Nobody moved. Lythienne said, "How are we doing this?"

Pariah thought about it. She still couldn't read him at all. Maybe he was just being careful like they
were. "Let's back off a little," she said to the others.

They stepped back a few feet. Vorcas advanced, watching them carefully. He got to the iron flask
and said, "Here you go," as he shoved the captain forward. She stumbled and started to fall. Pariah
reflexively stepped forward to help, heard arcane words being spoken, and then she slammed her
head into a wall of yellow force.

She looked around in confusion. She and her companions were imprisoned in a transparent golden
box of magical energy. Vorcas and the captain were outside the box. "What are you doing?" Pariah
demanded, slamming the heel of her palm against the wall.

Vorcas grabbed the captain's arm and pulled her back to him. "You thought you could negotiate
with me?" he growled at them. "You thought you could dictate terms to me?"
 Lythienne launched a powerful kick against the wall but it didn't budge. Vorcas snorted. "Don't
bother. This cage is completely impervious to physical or magical attacks."

"Why?" Pariah demanded. "You have what you need. Why take the captain?"

He grabbed the captain's left wrist and showed her arm to them. "This tattoo is the key to the ship. I
cannot operate it without her." He pulled the gloves off of the captain's hands and tossed them to
the ground. "These were the terms of our original deal. Be pleased I am honorable and didn't
simply give you all the slow deaths you deserve for defying me."

Lythienne had continued pounding on the wall, and Farima assaulted it with her magic, but to no
effect. Vorcas bent down to pick up the flask. "The cage is only temporary. It will dissipate on its
own, though I will be long gone before it fades. Nice doing business with you." He bowed slightly
and turned, pulling the captain towards the ship.

Pariah summoned her sword into her hand. She concentrated on the point behind Vorcas and she
disappeared into a cloud of ice crystals. She reappeared behind him, poised to strike, but he
whirled around before she could act and spoke an arcane word. The force of the word slammed
into her, knocking her on her ass and making her head spin. She looked up as he recited another
spell. A beam of green light shot out from his index finger. She tried to dodge to the side but her
muscles wouldn't obey her. The beam pierced her chest and agonizing pain coursed through every
part of her body, ripping a scream from her throat. She collapsed as she felt her energy draining
away.

She heard muffled voices calling her name. She heard Rowan pleading with Tymora. She heard
Lythienne recite a line about her wounds healing. But nothing reached her as her life force ebbed
and the darkness closed in around her.

Chapter End Notes

Oh, well. Pariah's dead. The end.

Just kidding! You aren't getting out of this bloated story that easily, but that's what
happens when a lone level 7 takes on a CR 12 opponent. That was power word stun
followed by disintegrate, which aren't actually the spells assigned to an arcanaloth but
made for a more dramatic scene. Technically she should have been atomized if
brought to 0 HP by that spell, but nah.

This chapter is "Elemental Galleon" from Abyssal Incursion, though I decided to skip
the combat. The gloves as a reward are my own addition. The cheesy novels were
already part of it and I figured Pariah would get a kick out of them.

This ending is actually a LOT less dark than originally planned. I had thought of a
different scene where Vorcas does something horrific to the captain while the PCs are
trapped in the forcecage. Hint: he just needs the tattoo, not the whole person. The
event would have been appropriate to the idea that yugoloths are extremely evil, and
that this story takes place in Hell, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it, especially
considering the captain's current mental disability. There comes a point where, even if
a scene fits the setting, it may not fit the story you are telling, or your own lines and
veils.
 A Fortunate Recovery
Chapter Summary

After an unfortunate encounter with an arcanaloth, the party is trapped in a magical

cage while Pariah's body lies motionless on the bank of the River Styx.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Pariah, wake up!"

Pain lanced through her shoulder as someone shook it roughly. Her eyes flew open to see Rowan's
tear-stained face leaning over her. Rowan's face split into a relieved grin. "You're alive! Bless
Tymora's good fortune."

Rowan flung herself across Pariah to hug her, sending a wave of pain through her body. "Ow!"
Pariah yelled. "Ow, that hurts."

Rowan pushed herself up. "Oh, gods, I'm so sorry. Where are you hurt?"

Pariah took a moment to steel herself against the pain. "Everywhere," she grated. "My hair hurts.
My horns hurt. My fingernails hurt. The laces on my boots hurt."

Rowan laid her hand gently on Pariah's forehead and said, "Lady Tymora, please relieve the pain
felt by this stupid bitch."

Pariah's brow furrowed as the pain subsided. It didn't go away, but the prayer took the edge off.
"Um, thanks?" she said, confused by the anger in Rowan's voice.

Memories flooded in and Pariah forced herself to sit up with a groan. She looked over towards the
river and saw the distinct absence of a ship. "Talona's tits," she said. "He got away?"

Nobody said anything. Pariah looked back to see the others gathered around her. They all looked
like they'd been crying; even Farima's usually stoic face had red-rimmed eyes. "What's wrong?"
Pariah asked in confusion.

"What's wrong?" Rowan demanded heatedly. "What's wrong?" She punched Pariah in the shoulder.

Pariah cried out in pain. The punch hadn't been hard, but her muscles were tender. "What in the
hells was that for?"

Conflicting emotions crossed Rowan's face. "I'm sorry," she barked. "But, Beshaba take you, I'm
so mad at you right now!"

"Why?" Pariah asked in confusion.

"Why?" Rowan yelled. "Why?"

Pariah yelled back, "Stop just repeating my questions and answer them! What is going on?"
"We thought you were dead! We've been stuck in that damned cage for...I don't know...hours,
thinking you might be dead. Just because you decided to be stupid and take on that thing by
yourself!"

Pariah's head was still swimming. "What?" She looked back to where the cage had been, though
there was nothing there now. "Hours?"

Farima said, "Well, I would estimate seventy to eighty minutes." The others turned towards her.
She continued, "I have a spell I can cast, a general utility spell used for practice, that lasts
approximately one minute. I was able to cast that spell forty-seven times while we were waiting.
Before that, we spent an unmeasured amount of time trying to escape. While I am unsure of the
duration of that period, I would guess about half as long as the time we waited after. Thus, seventy
to eighty minutes."

The others stared at her for a moment. She started to look embarrassed. "What?" she said
defensively.

Rowan turned back to Pariah. "OK, seventy to eighty minutes. Whatever. But you weren't moving.
We couldn't tell if you were breathing. We couldn't break out. Our magic couldn't reach you. Don't
ever do something that stupid, you stupid bitch!" Rowan threw her arms around her and buried her
face in Pariah's neck.

Pariah winced but kept herself from crying out at the surge of pain. "Sorry," she said with
difficulty. "I wasn't thinking. I just reacted. Sorry."

Lythienne also put her arms around Pariah. Lulu snuggled in her lap. Even Farima put a comforting
hand on her shoulder. Pariah endured the pain as long as she could and then said, "OK, but
seriously this really, really hurts."

They pulled away and it was a relief as the pain subsided again. "Sorry," she said again. "I just
wanted to save her."

Lythienne said, "We understand that, but it's not the first time you've been reckless. Taking on
someone too powerful for you doesn't help. You getting dead doesn't save anyone."

"OK, OK," Pariah said contritely. "I'll be more careful."

Rowan let out a heavy sigh. "I say we set up camp. I'm not sure any of us is up to more travel at the
moment. We need some time to get over what just happened."

After some discussion, they decided to set up in a hollow at the base of the hill the ship had been
hidden behind. Although it left them exposed to anyone on the road, it would hide them from river
traffic. The shape of the hill would also hide them from the distant riverside watch towers, though
she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Then again, if they hadn't come to investigate the ship in
the first place, they probably weren't paying much attention to anything other than invading demon
armies.

Lythienne drove the war machine over and parked it on the edge of the camp while the others set
up. Rather than having Rowan summon food and drink, they ate the rations they had bought from
Tasha, washed down by water and beer from Pariah's jug. Pariah briefly thought about the hat she
had gotten from Mickey. Tasha had said the three creatures that could be summoned were safely
edible by humans, elves and tieflings, but Pariah didn't think any of the group was in the mood to
kill, butcher and cook anything.
They sat in glum silence and Pariah tried to think of a way to break the tension. She was curious
about how the ship had propelled itself back into the river, but thought that might not be the best
subject to bring up at the moment.

Farima was examining a pair of gloves. It took Pariah a moment to remember they had belonged to
the captain, and had been left behind by Vorcas as his way of honoring their deal. "Are those
magical?" she asked, remembering that Vorcas had said they seemed to be.

Farima looked up. "Yes. Well, to be precise, the metal is magical, not the gloves themselves." She
pointed to the spikes set along the back of the red leather gloves. "They create terrible wounds that
bleed excessively. They would only be effective in hand-to-hand combat, though."

All eyes turned to Lythienne, who was staring across the wasteland. She looked over at the gloves.
"Are they safe?"

Rowan reached out for them. "I'll check them for curses," she said as Farima handed them to her. A
short prayer and a few spinning coins later, and she proclaimed they were harmless -- to the wearer
anyhow.

Lythienne took them and slipped them on. They shifted to conform perfectly to her slim, elven
hands. She flexed her fingers and nodded. "They feel like a second skin," she said.

The gloomy atmosphere was getting to Pariah. She understood why everyone was upset, but
wallowing like this wasn't helping. Casting about for anything to talk about, she said, "Rowan, I
saw you examining the soul coins while we drove. Did you find out anything?"

"Hmm?" Rowan said. "Oh, yes, I guess so. You can talk to them in your mind if you touch them."
She shivered a little. "They are not nice people, and they all seemed to be a little insane."

Lythienne said, "I suppose that is understandable."

Rowan nodded. "The one we used for fuel was a dwarven prison guard. He promised to protect a
prisoner who gave information about his friends. He sealed his promise with an oath to Clangeddin
Silverbeard, but then someone bribed him to kill the prisoner and he did so.

"Another was a human. His nephew was abducted. He was wealthy and the boy's parents came to
him to ask him for the ransom. Instead, he hired mercenaries to kill the kidnappers, and the nephew
died as well. I'm not sure if the boy's death was intended or not. Even though he wasn't there, he
keeps reliving the boy's death from his point of view."

Rowan frowned in thought for a moment. "I'm not sure about the third one. I'm not sure if she's
delusional or serious. She was a sculptor but, from what I can gather, she used people. She would
pose them in dramatic displays and then turn them to stone. She claimed to be quite famous as an
artist, but I didn't recognize the name. Ianthe Palakis?"

She looked in inquiry at the others but they all shrugged or shook their heads. Lythienne said, "I
don't even recognize the nationality of her name. It has a distinctive style but doesn't fit any peoples
I can think of."

Farima nodded. "I agree, though at the same time it seems familiar." She shook her head. "I am too
tired to think about it at the moment."

Pariah said to Rowan, "What about the three we got from Ragga-whatever?"

"I haven't gotten a chance to investigate them yet," she said. "I'll talk to them later."
"It doesn't bother you to talk to them?" Pariah asked with concern. "I barely touched them and it
was awful."

Rowan looked towards the road as they heard the engines of war machines. "Not really," she said.
"I just kind of distance myself from it. They are certainly terrible people, and their traces of
madness makes it even harder to talk to them, but the experiences don't haunt me too badly."

Three vehicles appeared down the road from the direction of Fort Knucklebone. The small convoy
continued past them without even slowing down, eventually disappearing into the distant haze,
headed towards Zariel's Bridge. Lythienne broke the silence. "I think we should discuss whether
we are going to use them for fuel or not."

"I am against it," Farima said immediately and emphatically. Reluctantly she added, "However,
after some reflection, I have decided that if the group is intent on doing so, then I will not veto that
decision. But understand that I consider it a cruel and dreadful act."

Lulu said slowly, "I don't know. They are here because they are bad people."

Lythienne hesitated, but then spoke carefully. "I feel these souls have done things to deserve
punishment. I wouldn't want to do something to an innocent soul, but these souls are not innocent.
And they are not destroyed when drained of energy. Rowan, the one we used, is he still in pain?"

Rowan considered the question. "No, though he's kind of disoriented. He said the pain was horrible
but subsided quickly. So, no, he's not suffering now from what we did."

"You see?" Lythienne said. "Momentary pain to an evil soul for three days of travel. That seems
fair."

Rowan clutched her holy symbol. "I'm not sure how I feel about it. I acknowledge the structure of
the planes, the fact that the Nine Hells is a place of punishment for a reason. That doesn't mean I
want to participate in that punishment." She pursed her lips. "And yet, I admit that the pain would
serve a purpose. It's not punishment for no reason." She shook her head. "I'm not sure where I
stand."

They all turned to Pariah who was lost in her own thoughts. After a time she said, "I can't help but
remember that someday my soul is going to be here, maybe locked in one of those very coins."

Lythienne looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Pariah. My words were thoughtless."

"No," Pariah said, waving away her apology. "I see your point. Most of the souls here belong here,
and from what Rowan says it sounds like these are evil people." She frowned. "Well, at least
people who've done bad things. I'm not sure I agree one murder warrants an eternity of
punishment. Or a clumsy decision about how to deal with kidnappers." She snorted. "I'm with
Rowan. I don't know how I feel about it."

Farima said, "The hag said we could power the machines ourselves. I imagine it will be painful, but
I would rather endure the pain myself than subject another to it. I say we at least try using our own
energies to fuel the dread machine before deciding to sacrifice strangers at the altar of the devils."

Pariah nodded. "Me too." Lulu and Rowan agreed, though maybe with a bit more hesitation.

Lythienne vacillated. "Very well," she said reluctantly. "If you all really think this is best."

Farima said, "I don't want you to feel coerced. This is a decision we each need to make
individually."
"No," Lythienne said without enthusiasm. "If you are doing it then we all should." She sighed, "It's
only fair. But we agree to revisit this subject later, all right?"

There was reluctant agreement among the group.

They settled into an introspective silence. Lythienne took out her dulcimer and played for a while,
but the music sounded strangely discordant. She checked the instrument several times and it
seemed to be in tune, but the music it played was jarring and grated on their nerves. She finally put
the instrument away with an air of irritation.

Eventually, they settled down to sleep. Lythienne took the first watch. Pariah volunteered to take
the second, but they all insisted she sleep through considering how close she had come to dying.
She put down her bedroll and lay down to rest. Her thoughts were buzzing and she thought there
were voices on the edge of her hearing, but she managed to fall into a deep slumber.

...she gets EVERYTHING because she's beautiful and rich, while I suffer in...

She was swimming through something thick and black. She could breathe but she was choking,
and the smell of grease was thick in the lack of air. Her surroundings got denser and it was harder
for her to move her arms and legs through it. She cried out and the thick oil filled her mouth.

...do you mean you don't know me? My fame is eternal. They said it would...

Pushing through a crowd of blurry figures. She couldn't distinguish one from another, but she could
see that none of them looked at her. How can that be? She grabbed them, screaming soundlessly at
them, "Look at me!" but they stared through her as though she wasn't there. Then, behind one of
them, the glint of light on glass. She looked in the mirror and saw an emptiness staring out at her, a
faceless head framed in hissing snakes.

...not MY son, not MY problem. Cheaper to just erase them all...

Two thugs stared down at her. "Kill the boy, too?" one grunted.

"Yeah," said the other, and he stabbed forward. She felt the knife pierce her throat, and her scream
was drowned in a gurgle of blood.

Two thugs stared down at her. "Kill the boy, too?" one grunted.

"Yeah," said the other, and he stabbed forward. She felt the knife pierce her throat, and her scream
was drowned in a gurgle of blood.

Two thugs stared down at her. "Kill the boy, too?" one grunted.

"Yeah," said the other, and he stabbed forward. She felt the knife pierce her throat, and her scream
was drowned in a gurgle of blood.

...is the Lich Queen who betrayed us, who twisted our faith, who feeds on us. Dispater promises the
power we need to...

In darkness again, but this time the darkness of the void. Whispers around her, but no words she
could make out. Her energy pulled out of her, weaker, weaker, dying but never dead. The void took
it all, and then took more. She felt her body shriveling, and yet the void drew more out of her until
she lacked even the energy to cry out.
...so much gold. Don't I deserve wealth? I know I swore a vow, but what did he ever do for...

She crawled across the sharp gravel, her hands shredded and bleeding darker red on the scarlet
rocks. She gasped for air, feeling the dry skin inside her mouth stretch and crack. She had to find
water, even some foul puddle tainted with demon ichor. The flies buzzed and bit her skin, though
she didn't even feel the wounds anymore. She looked ahead through the shimmering air and saw a
sluggish, murky river. Yes, there was the water she needed, but did she have the strength to reach
it?

...kill them all kill them all kill them all kill them all kill them all kill them all kill them all...

Pariah jerked awake and sat up, panting, her heart hammering. She could feel the sweat dripping
down her face. She looked around to see the others were sleeping, other than Lythienne and Lulu
who were on watch. They had turned to look at her.

Lythienne said, "I guess I won't ask if you were having bad dreams."

Pariah tried to slow her breathing. "Yeah," she gasped.

Lulu said, "We were talking about waking you."

Lythienne nodded. "Though I sometimes wonder if it's worth the bother. We can't seem to escape
the nightmares. Not even me."

"Yeah," Pariah panted again, wiping the sweat from her brow. She blew out another breath, finally
feeling her heart start to slow. "It's strange. The dreams in Fort Knucklebone were different than
the ones in Elturel. These were different from the ones in the fort."

"Oh?" Lythienne asked, raising her eyebrows in inquiry.

Pariah tried to make sense of the imagery. "A lot of voices. Strange images, but like I was inside
someone's head." She frowned as an idea formed. "Where are the soul coins?"

Lythienne nodded towards the war machine. "I saw Rowan stow them in one of the tool
compartments."

Pariah rose and headed to the vehicle, pulling her gloves on as she did. She opened up one of the
compartments and saw the six soul coins inside. Three of them had string wrapped around them,
and under each string was a piece of paper. She looked at one and read, "Ianthe Palakis. Made
sculptures out of people turned to stone??? Confused - doesn't seem to know where she is."

On the label for the second was written, "Verrid Elfgrain. Nephew kidnapped. Didn't pay ransom.
Something else?"

The third was the burned out coin, and the label read, "Eliam Aranore. Killed prisoner he'd
promised to spare. Broke vow to Clangeddin Silverbeard."

Pariah looked at the three remaining coins. Her suspicions seemed pretty well confirmed but she
wanted to check. She removed one glove and reached out to touch one of the unlabeled coins.

...kill them all kill them all kill them all kill them all...

She jerked her hand away. The voice was nothing but rage and malevolence, and that wasn't all.
Her mind had been assaulted by bloody images of slaughtered orcs, many of them children. She put
her glove back on and replaced the coins where she had found them.

She returned to where Lythienne and Lulu were sitting and watching her curiously. Lulu asked,
"What was it?"

Pariah said, "It's what I was afraid of. I'm hearing them. The souls in the coins. They were in my
dreams." She sat down next to the elf.

Lythienne looked towards the war machine. "I had not considered that might be a side effect of
having tortured souls so close." They sat in silence for a while, and then Lythienne said softly,
"Perhaps that is all the more reason to use them up and discard them."

Pariah pursed her lips. She didn't have a response to that.

Lythienne continued, "These souls have earned their place here. Their lot is not our doing. At least
this way, they can serve some useful purpose rather than just-"

"Stop!" Pariah snapped at her, more loudly than she meant to, considering the others were sleeping.
More quietly she said, "Just stop." She stood and walked away, going a little ways up the hill to
take a seat again with her back to Lythienne and the camp.

From here she could see down the River Styx. In the far distance she saw something crossing the
river and wondered if it was Zariel's Bridge. She thought about fetching Rowan's goggles but didn't
want to head back to camp yet. The anger at Lythienne's words simmered inside, so she just sat and
stared off into the distance.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there in this timeless place. Lulu trotted over to sit next to her, but
didn't say anything. She just sat next to Pariah, and it was comforting. Eventually, though, Pariah
heard footsteps coming up behind her. She blew out a sigh, knowing she'd have to have this
conversation.

"Pariah?" came Lythienne's hesitant voice. "I'm getting ready to wake Farima for the next shift. I
wanted to apologize before I went into my meditation. I was thoughtless again. You are such a kind
person it's hard for me to remember that your soul may end up here."

Pariah was still mad, but she knew her anger -- most of it, anyhow -- wasn't directed at Lythienne
specifically. She forced herself to turn her body towards the other woman, though she still didn't
look at her. "That wasn't it," she admitted grudgingly. She heaved another sigh. "It's just that shit
about rating other people and their worth. Earned their place. Can serve some useful purpose.
People like me hear that our whole damn lives."

"Tieflings?" Lythienne asked in confusion.

Now Pariah did turn to look at her, surprised by how naïve her question was. "Outer City filth," she
said. "Poor people."

Lythienne's eyes widened as realization swept over her. "Oh," she said. "Oh, Pariah, I'm so sorry. I
didn't see the parallel. That's not how I meant it."

"Isn't it?" Pariah asked angrily before she could stop herself, but realized this was a complicated
conversation and it wasn't the right time. "Never mind," she said with a dismissive wave. "Just be
careful about judging people in groups, even if that group is 'people sent to Hell'. Maybe the story
isn't as simple as you want to believe. Like that guy who broke his vow to...uh...what's-his-
name...you know, Clang-Clang Shinybeard."
 Lulu giggled and Lythienne put a hand over her mouth to unsuccessfully suppress her own laugh.
Pariah wasn't offended; she was being purposefully irreverent. "The point is, is that guy here for
murder? Or because some god got his precious little feelings hurt?" She felt a rant coming on, and
she didn't have the energy for that. She snorted and turned away from Lythienne. "Don't wake
Farima. I'm not going to sleep anytime soon. I'll take the next watch."

Lythienne watched her carefully. "All right. I really am sorry."

"I know," Pariah grunted. "Forget it. Go to sleep."

Lythienne hesitated again, but then went back down to the camp and sat down near the others.
Pariah watched her go into her meditation pose, seated cross-legged with her wrists on her knees,
and then Pariah turned to gaze at the barren Avernian landscape.

Chapter End Notes

The conversation between Pariah and Lythienne was not the one I sat down to write,
but sometimes these unruly characters go off and do their own thing. So annoying --
and so awesome.

The gloves have the stats of a sword of wounding but for unarmed attacks.

The corruption rules I've been creating include a penalty for carrying soul coins. I no
longer have a physical limit set by Constitution and alignment. Instead, the coins haunt
your dreams, making it harder to get an effective rest, and increasing the chance of
failing corruption saves -- which I'm really using more as insanity saves since I'd
rather turn them crazy than evil.

To generate the personalities in the soul coins I start with this reddit thread as a rough
basis for the personalities in the soul coins, then add Coin Madness from the Remix,
and then randomly determine one of the Seven Deadly Sins. I combine those three
with a random NPC generator to create the soul.
 A River Crossing
Chapter Summary

Rested from the encounter with the arcanaloth, the party gets back on the road to
Zariel's Bridge.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah woke from dreams of burning into a world on fire.

Well, not actually on fire, just really, really hot.

Her clothing was drenched in moisture as she sat up. The others were all awake and, considering
their bedraggled hair and sweat-stained clothing, it was clear that she wasn't the only one feeling it.

"What in the Nine Hells?" she asked.

Rowan was fanning herself with the Avernus map. "We don't know. This heat wave happened
suddenly a while ago. We were talking about waking you so we could get moving, see if it's just
local. If nothing else, maybe the air moving on our skin will help."

It hadn't helped the day before, but Pariah didn't want to sit here drowning in her own perspiration
either. She realized that the others had already packed their belongings on the war machine so she
quickly set about rolling up her bedroll. She had woken Farima last night to take the last shift, and
had slept a little better in the interim since, but was still fairly tired.

If she was tired, Lythienne looked exhausted as though she hadn't slept -- or tranced -- at all. The
other two looked fine, and Lulu didn't sleep so seemed all right as well.

She noticed that Rowan was wearing only a few pieces of her armor and she thought that was
probably a good idea. She dumped her breastplate and other armored pieces into the war machine,
depending on the leather underneath to protect her. With luck, they wouldn't face any more
ambushes.

"I'll drive," she volunteered.

Rowan looked her over critically. "Are you sure you're up to it?"

"I'm fine," Pariah assured her. "Your prayers helped. I'll let you know if I get tired." To Farima she
said, "Any more traffic last night?"

"Occasionally," the other woman said. "Mostly single vehicles, occasionally small groups. None
seemed to be military convoys. It seems the demon invasion has not come this far downstream."

"I hope so," Pariah said as she climbed into the driver's seat. She shifted to find a more comfortable
position even as she knew there wasn't one. She looked to see that everyone was ready. Farima was
at one harpoon station and Rowan was at the other. Lythienne was in the back with Lulu. Pariah
wondered if Lythienne would try going into her trance while they drove. It seemed like a good
idea, but the bumpy ride and the noise might make it impossible.

The engine started with its usual deep, bone-shaking roar and she pushed the throttle forward. They
moved slowly across the landscape until they reached the road and then she opened it up and they
raced in the direction of the bridge.

Pariah remembered the trick Farima had used to track time -- cast a spell with a known duration
and count the castings. She used her disguise spell to put the image of a number on her palm. It
would last about an hour and then she would renew it, increasing the number by one. She had done
that the previous night to mark out the hours of her watch.

She had cast it only twice before she saw a tower on the river shore ahead. This one seemed larger
than the ones they had seen already, and was decorated in red and silver patterns against the black
stone. Soon she could see the bridge that arched over the river next to the tower, and another tower
on the far shore. The bridge was wide, easily three or four times as wide as the road, with low
walls along its sides.

Pariah slowed down as they approached. The road continued but she turned onto a branch that lead
towards the bridge. The tower to the left looked to be forty feet high. A pair of spiked devils
looked down at her from the open roof. A half-dozen bearded devils stood in a line across the
bridge, their glaives at the ready. At the center of the bridge stood a chain devil. It was naked other
than a black helmet with a white crest that looked like bone, and the barbed chains that wrapped its
body. It was leaner and more muscular than the one who had sold them keys. Small, red eyes
watched sharply as she neared him and slowed the vehicle.

The way it studied her made her feel like a rabbit in the gaze of a wolf. It pointed at the vehicle and
made a slashing motion with its hand. Pariah was confused by the gesture, but then realized the
war machine was loud even at idle. It would be hard to hold a conversation. She cut the engine and
the growl sputtered out.

"Your business?" the chain devil rumbled coldly at her in Infernal. She shivered at the malevolence
in its voice. Even though she knew chain devils were sadistic and heartless, she somehow expected
the same friendly tone as the key merchant they had met in Elturel.

She had thought about the answer during the drive. Maybe the devils didn't care about mortals
visiting Haruman's Hill, but why take the chance? "We are gathering demon ichor. I heard in Fort
Knucklebone that there are rich pools that way." She jerked her chin towards the far side of the
bridge.

The devil reached up to grab one of the handholds on the side of the vehicle and then stepped up
onto the deck. The vehicle shifted slightly under its weight. It glanced around the inside of the
vehicle and its occupants. It growled as it saw Lulu. Pariah cursed internally. They needed to
remember to hide Lulu when dealing with devils.

"That pest is with you?" it asked with a sneer.

"Yes," Pariah said. She saw no reason to give any more information than that.

The chain devil studied the rest of them and then stepped down off the vehicle. "One soul coin."

Pariah slipped on her gloves as she got out of her seat. She went to the compartment where they
were storing the soul coins and retrieved the burned out one. She removed the string and label
wrapped around it, and then held it out to the chain devil.
The devil bared its teeth and its chains whipped out, the sharp barbs slashing the air in front of her.
The bearded devils had been watching the exchange lazily, but now they all snapped to attention.
The chain devil demanded, "Do you think I'm a fool?"

"No," Pariah said, confused. "What's the problem?"

"This one is burned out. Useless. Give us a fresh coin or we'll take your soul as payment."

"Oh," she said looking down at it. "I didn't realize." She grabbed one of the unlabeled coins,
hoping it was the 'kill them all' one, and handed that to the devil.

It took the coin and inspected both sides of it carefully. It snarled at her again and then said, "Very
well. Do not try to cheat us again." It nodded towards one of the bearded devils who lifted a bugle
that hung by his side. The bugle sounded three loud, clear notes: high-low-high. The chain devil
impatiently waved her on.

Pariah held up the burnt out coin. "Is this worthless? It still has a soul inside."

The devil hissed out an irritated breath between its pointed teeth. "They have small value to some.
They can be taken down to Minauros to be reforged. Enough talking. Go!"

Pariah had more questions but it was clear this conversation was over. She restarted the engine and
nudged the throttle forward.

The black basalt walls of the bridge would have come up about to her chest if she'd been on foot.
About every hundred feet was a higher section with a bas relief carved into it, the details
highlighted in red stone and silver inlay. The first depicted Zariel in the middle of a lush paradise,
though she was shown in her fiendish rather than her angelic form. The inscription at the bottom
was in Infernal. Pariah heard Lulu's voice in her head. Pariah, what does the writing say?

It was too loud for easy conversation so Lulu's telepathy made sense. She thought back, She served
in the armies of the Lord of the Nine in the younger days, when Avernus had not yet become the
Ninth.

That's true, Lulu sent back. That was before Ashmedai betrayed Heaven to become Asmodeus and
claim Avernus as the Ninth Hell. But she wasn't a devil then. Why did they make her look like that?
Pariah remembered Lulu telling them many days before about Ashmedai's betrayal.

The next relief showed Zariel, again in her fiendish form, surrounded by portraits of other figures,
each with a name inscribed at the bottom of the ornate frame. Pariah recognized Lulu in her smaller
form, though her fur was grey and red rather than golden. There was a human woman and a human
man; their names read Yael and Haruman. There were also five devils named Zilannen, Tozromon,
Brullmerath, Xilka, and Venthroxoth. She noticed Olanthius was not there, presumably because of
his betrayal of her when she signed her pact. What about this one? came Lulu's thoughts.

Pariah hesitated after reading the inscription, but thought, In memory of her comrades lost over the
long eons of struggle.

Angrily, Lulu thought, They shouldn’t show those stupid devils with her. They weren't her friends.
We were -- me and Yael and Haruman, not stupid devils.

The third showed Zariel kneeling before another devil, who Pariah guessed was Asmodeus, her
wings aflame. Pariah thought towards Lulu, At the feet of the Archfiend her heart was opened to
the truth, and she ascended to the ranks of the esteemed.
Lulu didn't respond. Pariah looked over her shoulder to see Lulu staring at the floor. Next to her,
Lythienne was examining the carving so didn't seem to be aware Lulu was upset. Then again, she
might not be the best one to comfort Lulu right at that moment.

Pariah was puzzled by the fourth relief. It showed Zariel in chains. Above her were five dragon
heads, each laid with different color stone: green, red, black, blue and white. She looked at Lulu
again and the hollyphant was looking at the artwork. Pariah thought, Do you want me to read this
one?

Yes, Lulu thought back without enthusiasm.

Pariah read, At the false word of the coward Bel, she was sealed in the prisons of the Progenitor.
She had no idea what that meant.

The fifth wall showed Zariel on the front lines of a battle against some kind of fiends. Pariah
translated the inscription, In glory did she triumph where false Bel failed, in the name of the Lord of
Nessus.

The final wall was an illustration of Zariel kneeling before the same devil as before, but he was
placing a crown on her head. Again, Pariah hesitated, but then she thought towards Lulu, All hail
the Archduchess of Avernus, may she rule eternal at the left hand of the Archfiend.

The other end of the bridge looked similar to where they had entered, including the tower and the
line of bearded devils. However the commander here was something else, an obese green devil like
the one she'd seen in the dream machine. It waved her through so she didn't slow down.

Once they got off the bridge, the road turned left and right. She brought the vehicle to a stop and
shouted over her shoulder to Rowan. "Which way?"

Rowan took out the map and studied it with a frown. She pointed towards the hills rising before
them. "We're going that way. I don't see any roads on the map so I guess we go cross country."

The hills were fairly well rounded rather than jagged, so it seemed like they shouldn't be hard to
navigate in the vehicle. Pariah looked back to see Lulu sitting in one of the seats, her posture
slumped. Lythienne was looking out the side of the vehicle. Pariah didn't know if she was
deliberately ignoring Lulu or just unaware of her emotions.

She wasn't sure if Lythienne was in any shape to drive at the moment, so she shouted, "Rowan,
would you take the wheel for a while?"

The priest seemed surprised by the request, but shrugged and nodded. As she rolled up the map,
Pariah got out of the helm's seat and headed to the back of the vehicle. "Lythienne, would you
stand lookout? I want to talk to Lulu."

"Certainly," Lythienne said. She headed up to take Rowan's position at the harpoon station while
Rowan took the wheel. The roar of the engine rose as the vehicle started moving towards the rising
land in the distance.

Pariah took the seat next to Lulu and put an arm around her. She leaned down and said into her
oversized ear, "You all right?"

"No," said Lulu quietly enough that Pariah almost couldn't hear her over the sound of the engine.

"Want to talk?"
"No."

Pariah pulled Lulu closer and sat with her in silence while Rowan drove into the hills.

The heat wave broke after about three hours, which was a relief to everyone. The regular
temperature of Avernus was hard enough to handle as it was. Pariah eventually took the wheel back
from Rowan, and Lythienne put in a driving shift as well. The hilly terrain wasn't too bad to
navigate through, but it cut their line of sight. Nobody was in the mood to go through another
ambush like Raggadragga's.

They would occasionally climb the highest hill in the area to survey their surroundings, trying to
find the easiest path through the area. They spotted a patrol of devils during one of these scouting
stops, and headed off in a direction to avoid them. There was no reason to encounter anyone they
didn't have to.

Navigation proved to be challenging. With no compass, no sun or stars to navigate by, and no
major landmarks visible, it was easy to get disoriented. Rowan matched terrain to the map as best
she could, but she admitted that she wasn't sure they were moving in a straight line.

They stopped after a couple more hours to eat an unsatisfying lunch and to stretch their legs. If
nothing else, the silence of the wilderness was a welcome break from the constant scream of the
war machine's engine. Nobody talked much. Everyone seemed to be lost in their own thoughts.

Pariah took over driving again, weaving her way through the valleys of the rolling terrain, hoping
she was going in the right direction. Late in the afternoon she saw a smudge in the sky to the right
of their direction of travel. She pointed it out to Rowan who looked at through her goggles.

"I think that's Elturel," Rowan shouted back. "Unless there is some other city floating above
Avernus." The city had faded behind them as they had driven away from Fort Knucklebone, and
Pariah was surprised they had circled around to see it again.

"Does that mean we're lost?" she asked.

Rowan studied the map. "No. This looks right. So we are where we need to be. We needed to divert
to the bridge, but now we happen to be headed back to the same area."

Seeing the city lifted Pariah's spirits, but then she realized they were probably getting close to the
battle. They couldn't see the river through the hills, though Elturel looked farther away from here
than it had from the fort. She hoped they were far enough from the river not to get involved in the
conflict.

As she crested one hill she spotted something in the distance, something like a small body of water.
It wasn't too far off their line of travel so she thought it was worth checking out. Her jug meant they
didn't need water, but there might be wildlife near it; they still hadn't seen many native animals, but
the sound of the war machine probably chased them into hiding.

As they got closer, she started to think it wasn't water after all. The surface was too dark. By the
time they had arrived she had figured out what it was: a pool of thick, black demon ichor a couple
of hundred feet across. She stopped at the top of a shallow slope that led down to the pool's edge
and cut the engine. She stood and walked to the front of the deck to look over the pool. Ripples ran
erratically across its surface. They didn't move like they were caused by something swimming in
it, but she couldn't tell what caused them. She found it unsettling.

Farima came up behind her. "I question the wisdom in collecting this foul substance."
"I'll be careful," Pariah assured her.

Lythienne said, "I'll help. I suspect collecting this material safety will require nimble fingers. You
and I seem the best suited."

Pariah and Lythienne took turns. Collecting the ichor proved to be more difficult than she had
expected. It didn't flow like normal liquid, sometimes oozing up the handle of the scoop like it was
alive. She suspected it was critical to avoid getting contaminated so was very careful, but that made
it hard to collect a decent amount. She ended up scraping some into the vials and hoped it would be
good enough for a merchant. Lythienne struggled as well, but seemed to get the hang of it more
quickly.

Their careful collecting managed to at least partially fill the ten vials with no residue dripping
down the sides. Pariah and Lythienne were headed back to the war machine with their haul when
Farima cried, "Look out!" and fired a spray of magical bolts past them.

Pariah turned to see a half-dozen shadowy figures had risen from the muck. Their vague forms
looked like something winged but that was about all she could tell. Her arms were full of vials so
she ran back to the vehicle to dump her loot before turning to fire a stream of cold with her left
hand while summoning her sword with her right. The cold passed right through one of the forms as
it flew closer.

A swirling radiance washed out from behind her as Rowan called on her divine energies. Their
forms smoked as the light touched them, but they didn't evaporate like the shadows in the Grand
Cemetery had. More forms rose from the pool of ichor. Farima's divine guardian appeared among
them and lashed out with his sword before disappearing, but they still came.

Pariah was doing the best she could with sword and icy shield. She missed a block and an
indistinct claw tore into her, but she felt no pain. She was suddenly a young girl running through
the streets of the Outer City. She heard footsteps pounding behind her, male voices yelling. She
clutched the coin pouch tightly as she dodged into an alley, her vision blinded by the tears of panic
welling up in her eyes. She was going to die over a few copper pieces.

Then she was back, striking into a shadow figure and finding a hint of purchase as she stabbed into
the form. The point seemed to damage it, but the coldness that emanated along the blade did
nothing. The engine roared into life behind her. "Get aboard!" Rowan yelled.

Lulu trumpeted sparkles across the creatures -- there were over a dozen now -- and the shadows
sizzled but didn't slow down. Pariah turned and clambered aboard, which made her an easy target.
Another claw cut through her armor.

"Stop! Stop!" she screamed as the saw cut into her horn with a grinding that resonated through her
skull. "Mama, please!" She could barely speak through her sobs. "I won't take my hood off again. I
won't let people see me. I promise!"

"Shut up, you little monster," her mother snarled. "Maybe if I get rid of your horns and your tail
people won't look at me like that. Maybe I can meet a decent man if I'm not saddled with a thing
like you."

She shrieked and struggled, but her mother was too strong as she industriously sawed through the
base of her horn.

Pariah staggered, disoriented by the shifting visions and the lurch as the vehicle surged forward.
She grabbed onto the back of one of the seats as she turned to stab at one of the things that had
followed her aboard. Lythienne hammered it with blows, somehow driving the ghostly shape back
until it fell off the side and tumbled to the ground. It took to the air and flew after them along with
its companions, but they were being left behind as the war machine recklessly sped across the
uneven ground.

Lythienne turned back toward Pariah, her face screwed up with fear, her eyes squeezed shut. Then
her expression cleared as she came back to where they were. She exchanged a fearful glance with
Pariah and then turned to watch the creatures behind them.

Pariah squeezed her earring. "It's all right. They are turning back." The shadowy figures had
stopped and started drifting back toward the pool of ichor. The vehicle descended into a valley and
the figures were lost behind the mass of a hill. They slowed a bit as Rowan pulled back on the
throttle, but they were still moving quickly enough that Pariah had to hold on to avoid being
thrown overboard.

After about twenty minutes, Rowan slowed the vehicle to a safer speed and then brought it to a
halt. She cut the engine and said, "Is everyone all right? Who needs healing?"

Nobody spoke. "Pariah? Lythienne?" Rowan asked. "Are you all right?"

Pariah was in one of the chairs bolted to the back deck, still gripping the seat tightly even though
they had stopped. She looked up at Rowan. "I don't think we're hurt. Not in a normal way
anyhow." Rowan looked confused. Pariah explained, "They hit us with...like...nightmares."

"Memories," Lythienne said gloomily. "They brought up some of my worst memories. Fear.
Despair. Jealousy."

Pariah nodded. "Yeah."

"What did you see?" Rowan asked.

Pariah just shook her head. "Let's get moving again. We can get some more distance before making
camp. Rowan, will you keep driving?"

"Sure," Rowan said, concern in her voice.

They drove for a couple more hours before deciding to stop for the night. They were still in the
hills. Haruman's Hill, despite the name, was actually located in a flatter area beyond. Pariah
wondered if she should have asked the devils at the bridge how far it was, but it was too late now.

They ate another meal that was mostly in silence. Rowan volunteered to take the first watch and
that was fine with Pariah. She settled onto her bedroll and fell asleep.

Pariah tore off a bite of the leathery fruit she had selected for breakfast. Even after all this time, it
was an effort to get any food down, but she told herself it was important to keep their strength up.
The dryness of the fruit meant it wouldn't rot, but it also required copious chewing to break it down
enough to swallow. At least the hardtack could be crushed and mixed with water to make a paste
that tasted just as disgusting, but could be swallowed easily without lingering in the mouth.

"I miss coffee," she sighed. It was a strange thought out of nowhere, but she was trying to break the
silence that had plagued their meals over the last day or two.

"I was just thinking about fresh eggs," said Lythienne wistfully.
Rowan said, "Pastries that are sweet instead of bitter and grainy."

Farima added, "Thick oatmeal with goat's milk and a little honey."

Lulu sighed, "Mercurian star peaches."

They all looked at her with slight bewilderment, but she was staring off into the sky and didn't see
their faces. Pariah turned to see what she was looking at and saw the fuzzy image of Elturel
floating in the red atmosphere. She studied the city trying to judge its height. "Does anyone know
how long we've been here?" It felt like weeks, though she knew it had to be less.

Farima said somberly, "Today is our eighth day in this plane."

"That's all?" she said in surprise.

Farima looked uncertain. "Assuming we count one period of sleep as a day, that is the best estimate
I can make. With no sun or other cyclic phenomena, I can not be sure we are actually observing a
typical 24-hour schedule."

"What about your biscuit clock?" Pariah asked Rowan, to the confusion of the others.

Rowan grinned. "I haven't summoned food since we left the fort, so I'm not sure. But it did seem to
work. The biscuit disintegrated shortly after we woke up the next day."

They were all looking at the city now. Lythienne said, "I believe the lieutenant said they had six
weeks or so."

Pariah struggled with the math on that. Tendays were easier than weeks for her to calculate. But
then she thought of six stacks of seven coins. "So about four tendays?" she ventured.

Farima nodded. "So we have used about one fifth of our time. I hope we are at least one fifth of the
way to our solution."

Pariah looked back at the city trying to gauge if it was lower in the sky, but she had nothing to
measure it against.

Lythienne looked away from the city. "That is not our only deadline. We are all feeling the effects
of this environment. I assume you all had trouble sleeping?"

Farima and Rowan nodded. Pariah said, "Actually, it wasn't too bad for me last night, but it's been
a while since I could say that." The nightmares had been there, but not as intensely and she had
woken feeling rested. She was worried that it was some sign of her fiendish origin, like the blood
wine had been. She didn't want to feel comfortable here.

Lythienne said, "Pariah and I discussed this but I haven't had a chance to ask the other two: have
the soul coins invaded your dreams?"

"Yes," Rowan sighed. "I thought it was just me since I have been talking to them. You too?"

"Oh," Farima exclaimed. "Is that what it is? I have had those voices and presences and I was
unsure of their source."

Pariah sighed, "I really had hoped the 'kill them all' guy was the one I gave to the guards, but I
heard him last night."

From the gloom that settled over the group in that moment, it was clear she wasn't the only one
who had heard him. Rowan said, "I tried to talk to him last night but he just repeats that, louder and
louder until he's screaming in my head."

"And who is the other one?" Lythienne asked curiously.

"A woman who rages about some other woman named Sathi who's clearly behind everything bad
that ever happened in the world ever."

"I see," Lythienne said thoughtfully.

Rowan watched her, puzzled. "Something wrong?" she asked.

Lythienne looked up in surprise. "No, not really." She paused and then said, "Nothing I want to talk
about just yet."

"OK," Rowan said, more confused than before. "Let us know if we can help."

Lythienne gave her a brief smile but said nothing.

Pariah stood up. "Well, I suppose the sooner we start, the sooner we get there. Rowan, any idea
how far?"

Rowan started gathering her things. "I'm not sure. I think the map is to scale, sort of, but it does
seem to change as we travel. I'm worried that Haruman's Hill won't be there when we get there.
But if it is, I'm hoping we can get there today even if we have to drive a little longer than usual."

Pariah took the first driving shift. After about two hours, the land flattened out into a plane that
stretched as far as they could see into the distance. Although the ground was hard and flat, they still
weren't able to open up the throttle. The terrain before them was broken up by a complex web of
fissures and canyons like a shattered piece of glass. Trying to find a way through the maze of
fractures wasn't much faster than their trip through the hills. Lulu was an invaluable navigation aid.
Now and then they would stop and she would fly up to pick out a route among the ravines. This
meant less backtracking, but it was still a tedious process.

Rowan did her best to keep them on course, using Elturel and the occasional glimpses of the River
Styx in the distance to orient their position on the map. Lythienne took over driving when Pariah
got tired and, after many hours of carefully navigating through the cracked landscape, they finally
came out into an open plain and were able to increase their speed. Pariah was getting tired and was
wondering if it was time to call for a rest and continue exploring the next day.

Rowan shouted , "I see something!" She was looking through the goggles towards the horizon.
Pariah, manning one of the harpoon stations, strained her eyes but couldn't see anything. Lythienne
turned in the direction Rowan was pointing and they raced across the wasteland.

A shape started to form out of the blurry atmosphere, a low hump rising on the horizon. As they
closed, it started to take on a more distinct shape. Pariah was still tracking the time with her
disguise trick, and was surprised that it still took nearly an hour to reach the hill looming in the
distance.

At first, Pariah thought the hill was covered in a forest and, as they got closer, she realized she was
kind of right. Angular black trees dotted the surface, but they were spaced regularly, like crops on a
farm. Swarms of shapes flew around the trees.

Rowan's somber voice came over the earring. "There are bodies on the trees, obviously still alive. I
can't see how they are tied to the trees. There are things like bats with long noses flying around
 them. I think they are sucking out their blood."

Farima said, "Those sound like the stirges I fought in the crypt. Not difficult opponents
individually, but they do swarm. And, yes, they are bloodsuckers."

Pariah pinched the earring. "Can you see anyone who could be Haruman?"

"No," Rowan said. "We might have to drive around...wait. Lythienne, turn left. I see some kind of
sign at the base of the hill."

Lythienne turned the war machine to the left and throttled back. They were still approaching the
hill, but on a path that was taking them around the left side. Pariah saw the sign that Rowan had
mentioned, and Lythienne was headed straight for it. She slowed and stopped the vehicle about
twenty feet from the marker.

The sign was made of black metal with Infernal text carved into it. However, her attention was still
focused on the occupants of the hill. The trees were angular and sharp, and looked like they were
made of black iron. Impaled on the spikes of each tree was an armored figure. She could see
dozens on this slope alone. There might have been two hundred or more around the hill. Some of
them were still, but others writhed weakly. Lythienne turned off the war machine and, as the noise
of the engine faded, the air was filled with the screams of the men and women on the hill.

Stirges fluttered around the victims, piercing the skin of the warriors with their proboscises and
feasting on their blood. Pariah saw some fly away to the peak of the hill where another tree stood
in a clearing, a soldier bound to its surface. Each stirge stuck its proboscises into his mouth and
then, after a pause, flew to another body. The flock of creatures flew back and forth between the
figure at the top and the tormented warriors below, seemingly feeding him the blood from the
others. Could this be Haruman?

"What does the sign say?" asked Lythienne.

Pariah forced herself to tear her eyes from the horrifying spectacle before her. She dismounted the
vehicle, as did the others, and approached the sign. The Infernal text had been lined with red
pigment to make it stand out, but the paint was fading and hard to read.

She read aloud, "Behold the cowards who failed our glorious leader, Zariel. Eternally shall they
suffer for deserting her during her glorious pursuit of the vile Yeenoghu and his demons when they
invaded Avernus from..." Pariah trailed off as realization hit her.

She looked at the soldiers again, scanning for insignia. Finally she saw it inscribed on a shoulder
badge: two suns, one smaller than the other. Hellriders.

Pariah turned to Lythienne and saw that the elf had taken a step forward, her face ashen, her
expression horrified. Lythienne cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted towards the hill,
"Evaelisar!"

Chapter End Notes

I knew about Haruman's Hill. I knew about Lythienne's backstory. Yet for some
reason I didn't connect the two for a long time. Once I did, though, I knew it was going
to be really bad for her.

The bridge (including the bas reliefs), the idea of reforging the coins, and the heat
wave are all from the remix. Zariel's imprisonment is part of the remix history. The
remix moves her fall back a few centuries, which I don't, so I haven't thought about
how some of his details fit in my own history of her.

The battle was just quick and dirty narrative rather than something run through
Roll20; they were shadow demons. I don't want the story to bog down under random
encounters, and yet I want to add some variation to "they drove across the featureless
plains of Avernus".

I realized I've been using "weeks" rather than "tendays" most of the time, but it's not
worth going back and fixing it. To be fair, it looks like a lot of official books often use
weeks as well. It's not a big deal, but details like that bug me. So I've decided that both
words are used in Forgotten Realms.
 A Heartbreaking Reunion
Chapter Summary

The travelers have arrived at Haruman's Hill and are horrified to find that it is a site of
punishment for the soldiers who deserted during the Charge of the Hellriders.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Evaelisar!" Lythienne shouted again, and then she sprinted towards the hill.

Pariah yelled, "Lythienne, wait," but the other woman was already on her way. The group ran after
her, but she was too fast for them. She started running up the hill, stopping only momentarily to
look into the faces of each man she passed.

As they got closer, Pariah realized that at the bottom of each tree was a plate inscribed with
Infernal text. The one closest to her read, "Alfons Langstraat" and below that "Treason". The next
was Dulf Linden, also charged with treason.

She knew they need to find Haruman, but she also knew Lythienne wasn't going to stop her search.
She turned to Rowan and Farima. "Let's split up. Look for elven men. I don't think there were very
many." She looked around for Lulu and saw that she had flown up to the top and was hovering in
front of the man there. Once again, Pariah wondered if that was Haruman.

Pariah took off at a brisk walk, reading nameplates: Margriet Ribbens, Hoebar Vaas, Bentharm
Halfstand -- the latter was a dwarven man. Each of them accused of treason. Now that she was
closer she could see that the soldiers were secured to the trees by barbed wire and iron clamps.

"There's an elven man here," Rowan shouted.

Pariah ran over to read the man's nameplate but it said Maivan Killeatham. "No. Keep looking."

She moved from tree to tree, trying to ignore the screams around her. Some of the victims had
started to realize someone was there and their wordless cries turned into pleas for help. The stirges
buzzed around but mostly ignored the intruders. Pariah blasted a few when they got too close, but
they seemed to be content feeding on the condemned.

She tried to move faster. Mathilde Devaal, Artur Mentink, Evaelisar Thalaiel, Noarbaer Devaal.

Pariah stopped as the name registered. She darted back and read the nameplate again: Evaelisar
Thalaiel. She looked up to see an elven man who was screaming as a stirge sucked blood from his
neck. Pariah blasted the creature with an icy bolt and then pinched her earring. "I found him." She
waved her arms in the air so the others could see her among the trees and bodies.

She spotted Lythienne dashing through the grim forest, dodging between the trees. She slapped a
stirge out of the air as it drew close, and then was by Pariah's side in the blink of an eye. She
looked up at the man impaled on the tree, her face twisted in pain. "Evaelisar? Is that you?"

It took a moment for the man to look down at the figures gathering at his feet. He stared at
Lythienne in confusion for many seconds as she called his name over and over. Finally he croaked
out, "Lythienne?"

Terror washed across his face. "You can't be here," he said. "You have to leave!"

"No, we are going to rescue you." She grabbed one of the strands of wire and tried to untangle it.

As soon as she pulled on the wire, the deep toll of a bell rolled across the hill. The condemned
souls shrieked in terror as a single voice. "Run!" Evaelisar screamed. "You have to run!"

A voice boomed out from the sky. "You have been found guilty of interfering with the cause of
justice. The penalty is death and eternal torment on Haruman's Hill."

A shape appeared in the sky, descending rapidly, a figure wearing spiked, black armor astride an
obsidian-colored horse with its mane, tail and hooves consumed in flame. He came to ground out in
the plain that stretched out from the base of the hill, landing with a force that made the ground
shake.

Pariah said, "Uh, Lythienne, I think his idea about running is a good one."

"I'm not leaving him," Lythienne insisted. "Help me!" She continued to try to untangle the barbed
wire that held him.

Pariah recognized the armored figure from Lulu's dream: Haruman, the general who had willingly
followed Zariel into infernal servitude. He reached over his shoulder and grabbed the hilt of his
greatsword. He drew it slowly and the blade burst into flames.

She looked at Lythienne and saw the woman wasn't going to be convinced. Pariah reached into her
satchel and withdrew a crowbar. She handed it to the other woman and said, "We'll hold him off.
Hurry!"

Pariah jogged down the hill, summoning the cold into her armor and her sword into her hand.
Rowan and Farima followed, and she heard the flutter of Lulu's wings coming up behind. Rowan
said uncertainly, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No," Pariah said. "I think it's a terrible idea, but I'm not sure we have a choice."

As they reached the bottom of the hill, Haruman had already started to charge, the flaming hooves
of his hellish mount thundering across the hard ground. Farima said, "Tyr, I beseech your guardian
to protect us from this evil." A radiant force gathered before them resolving into the massive
glowing figure Pariah had seen during the fight with the lycanthropes. It held its sword and shield
in a ready position. "Stay near it," Farima told the others. "It cannot move."

Pariah moved up to stand beside the figure that loomed over twice her height, standing a little
behind so the guardian would take the initial charge. She was surprised to see Rowan move up on
the other side of the warrior, the cloud of coins whirling before her. Pariah was about to tell her to
move back but realized that this was an illusion. The real Rowan stood further back chanting a
prayer. Farima took a position behind Pariah, and Lulu fluttered over the guardian's head.

She pulled the cold into her left arm as the charging knight closed with them. She couldn't see his
face past the spiked metal of his helmet. His armor was so black it seemed to drink in the dim red
light of Avernus. An equally dark cloak billowed behind him as the devil horse hurtled forward.
The only part of him that wasn't black were the orange and yellow flames that streamed from his
unsheathed greatsword. He drew it back, ready to strike when he reached the interlopers.
Pariah let loose with a stream of icy energy aimed at the horse, hoping to slow it and maybe even
kill it to bring him down to their level. Frost blossomed across its broad chest and she thought its
murderous pace slowed a little, but not enough to make a difference. They closed the gap before
she could fire again.

The divine guardian's greatsword swung down in a wide arc at the charging warrior. Haruman
raised his own blade to block but the divine sword passed through without resistance, slicing into
both him and the horse. Haruman was silent but the horse screamed with anger and pain. Lightning
speared out from Farima's staff, causing a web of shifting electricity to wash over horse and rider.
It was hard to tell if any of this was hurting the devil knight, but the horse seemed to be showing
signs of injury.

"You dare injure a representative of order?" he bellowed towards Farima. Pariah could feel the evil
energy in his words radiating out from him. Then he was upon them. Haruman swung a wide arc at
the divine guardian, his blade passing through harmlessly. Pariah used this opportunity to circle
around to the side. The horse reared, stomping down with flaming hooves, but Pariah dodged the
blow and stabbed towards Haruman as the horse's blow smashed into the ground.

Her stab slipped between plates of his dark armor, and his head snapped around. "Lawbreaker!" he
snarled at her. She felt the power of his words wash over her and was filled with terror. What were
they doing? They couldn't possibly beat something so powerful and evil. Their only choice was to
run!

In a panic, Pariah barely got her arm up in time to block the swing of the flaming greatsword. Her
icy shield flashed into existence and deflected the blow, but the force of it drove dull pain and
searing heat into her arm, and pulled a cry from her lips. The greatsword finished its arc and then
changed direction unexpectedly, slamming the edge into her waist. It didn't break through her
armor, but she gasped as she found it hard to breathe. She staggered back, barely avoiding another
blow. She had to get away!

A ringing trumpet sounded and sparkles of radiant energy washed over them. Coins swarmed
around him, and the guardian's blade slashed through him again. Rowan suddenly appeared near
Pariah, waving her arms to get Haruman's attention. The evil general turned away from Pariah to
swing his massive blade at her. Pariah's panic overwhelmed her to the point she couldn't even cry
out a warning, but the blade passed through Rowan harmlessly.

Relief washed over Pariah as she realized this was Rowan's double, but that relief was quickly
extinguished as Haruman turned towards the real Rowan. Pariah was still nearly paralyzed by
dread, but she couldn't let her friends die. She quickly reached for a healing potion and downed it
even as she forced herself forward against the walls of her fear.

She was behind Haruman now and could see the others. The divine guardian was gone. Lulu was
hovering out of Haruman's reach looking down at him in frustration, a large gash visible in her
side. Farima peppered him with bolts of magic but was backing away, her face a mask of terror.
Rowan was standing strong and sent a bolt of divine energy at him, but he leaned to the side and it
sailed past him. Pariah glanced towards the hill and could see Lythienne still struggling to free
Evaelisar.

Pariah stabbed at Haruman but she had gotten lucky with that first blow. It was hard to find a
vulnerability in the overlapping plates of infernal steel. Haruman brought his sword around towards
her and she was unable to dodge it. She held up her arm to block it and the blade smashed past her
ice shield. The edge sliced through the leather and into her skin. She stepped back in a defensive
posture.
It was becoming clear they had no chance to defeat this powerful devil. She was barely standing
and Haruman showed virtually no wounds at all. Killing the horse might allow them to flee, but
Lythienne wasn't going to leave her brother. Pariah's fear caused her to briefly entertained the
thought that they should escape in the war machine and leave Lythienne to her own devices, and
then shame washed over her for even considering such a betrayal.

Rowan held out a hand and called out, "Tymora, by grace of your good fortune, banish this evil
from this plane forever!"

A cyclone of radiant energy surrounded Haruman. It shrunk in on itself and swallowed him into
nothingness with a slight pop of air. The devil horse looked around in confusion, and then leapt
into the air and faded from view.

Pariah felt the fear subsiding. She blew out a long breath and looked down to see the blood on her
armor. "Good job," she said to Rowan.

"It's not over," Rowan said in a strained voice. She was still holding her hand out. Her teeth were
clenched and she was sweating. "This prayer sends him to his home plane. This is his home plane.
I'm holding him in a pocket dimension by force of will, but I can't do this for very long. We have to
go!"

The war machine was nearby. Pariah asked Rowan, "Can you drive?"

Rowan didn't answer, just shook her head.

Pariah went up to Farima. "Go get the war machine started. Get ready to take us out of here once I
get Lythienne."

Farima, like Pariah, seemed to have shaken off the fear but now her face clouded. "I would rather
not drive the infernal machine."

Pariah didn't have time for this. Someone needed to get Lythienne, and Farima couldn't run
because of her broken rib. Pariah pointed to the machine and snapped, "Go! Drive! Now!" and then
sprinted towards Lythienne, grinding her teeth against the pain of her own wounds.

Lythienne was in tears as she struggled to get her brother free. The crowbar was on the ground. She
was trying to pull the bindings apart with her hands. Her own blood covered the shredded palms of
her gloves and dripped into the red sand, where a stirge was sucking it up. Pariah launched an icy
blast at the creature, and then said to Lythienne, "We can't beat him. We have to go now."

"I'm not leaving," Lythienne said, not turning around.

Pariah reached out for her shoulder. "He'll kill us. We have to go!"

Lythienne lashed out with a backhanded blow that caught Pariah across the face. She felt the spikes
on Lythienne's glove tear into her skin, and blood started to ooze down her cheek. Fury in her eyes,
Lythienne said through gritted teeth, "I'm not leaving!"

"Look!" Pariah said, grabbing her by the arms. "We can't win. You said it to me a couple of days
ago: if you get dead, nobody gets saved. I'm sorry, but we can't stay. We are all going to die if we
do."

A storm of emotions washed over Lythienne's face. Evaelisar said weakly, "Please, Lyth. I'm
begging you. Go." Pariah could barely hear his words over the wailing of the others on the hill.
Lythienne looked up at him. "I can't leave you here," she sobbed.

He looked down at her, his face bruised and bloodied. "You have to," he croaked. "Please don't
make me watch you die."

She reached out and grabbed his feet, and then leaned forward to rest her head on them as tears
dripped towards the ground. Pariah was getting impatient as she heard the roar of the war
machine's engine starting. She was about to speak, when Lythienne raised her head to look up at
her brother. "I'll come back. I swear. I'll find a way to free you. I won't leave this place without
you."

His expression was hard to read. Softly, he said, "Go."

She closed her eyes again and then turned towards Pariah. "Fine," she said dully. "Let's go."

Pariah reached down to grab the crowbar and shove it into her satchel. She looked down and saw
that Rowan was on the back of the war machine, looking towards the place where they had fought
Haruman, her hand still raised as she focused on keeping him trapped outside of this plane. Farima
was sitting at the helm, one hand on the wheel and the other on the throttle. She was looking
towards them. Lulu was standing on one of the harpoon guns and looked to be shouting something
at them.

Pariah grabbed Lythienne's hand and they sprinted towards the machine. Rowan's voice came over
the earring. "Hurry! I can't hold him much longer."

They were already running full tilt towards the war machine. They had traveled about two thirds of
the distance when Rowan staggered and lowered her hand. "Here he comes!" she shouted.

Pariah looked over her shoulder to see Haruman standing about a hundred feet back. He raised a
hand and his steed faded into existence beside him. He leapt onto its back and drove his spurs into
its side. As the horse charged forward, he drew his greatsword again.

Pariah turned back forward as she released Lythienne's hand. "He's catching up!" she said as she
pushed herself to her top speed. Lythienne did as well and the elf quickly started to pull away from
her. The thundering hooves grew louder behind her. Pariah's heart was pounding, and not just from
the exercise. She concentrated and a swirl of icy crystals appeared before her. She ran into them
and came out on the deck of the war machine just as Lythienne was vaulting up from the ground.

"Go!" Pariah shouted to Farima.

Farima pushed the throttle ahead hesitantly and the machine slowly started to pick up speed. Pariah
looked behind them to see that Haruman was nearly upon them, his greatsword ready to strike. She
fired an icy beam that missed the horse.

Rowan sighed, "For fuck's sake," and ran towards the helm. "Move!" she said as she shoved
Farima out of the seat. She took the other woman's place and pushed the throttle fully forward.
Pariah grabbed on as the machine surged ahead. She fired again and managed to hit the horse this
time. The beast's gallop slowed, but Haruman was still gaining.

Even at full throttle, the rough ground slowed them and Haruman was going to reach them soon.
Pariah continued to fire but this was only delaying the inevitable. "They are catching up," she
shouted.

Pariah remembered the grease that Lythienne had bought at Fort Knucklebone. Maybe that could
slow him down long enough for them to get away. She turned but, before she could speak, she saw
 Lythienne was standing by the fuel tank. She had one of the metal flasks in her hand, one of the
flasks they had filled with demon ichor. Pariah was confused as Lythienne unscrewed the cap but
then she remembered something Shavar had said about using ichor as fuel.

Lythienne poured the ichor into the slot for the soul coins. The slot wasn't designed for liquids so
some of the foul, black blood ran down the front of the tank. The engine started screaming and
Pariah was nearly thrown off the back as the vehicle rocketed forward. She was able to grab a
support to avoid falling out. Flames shot out of the fuel tank coin slot and the metal of the tank
started to glow red. She looked behind them to see Haruman still chasing them but starting to fall
back.

He persisted for a while but then finally slowed and stopped. From his body language, it looked
like he was shouting something towards them as he brandished his flaming sword, but then he
turned and took off into the sky over Haruman's Hill.

Pariah turned to look over the machine. Flames continued to shoot out from the fuel tank and she
could feel the heat against her face even from several feet away; she hoped that an infernal
machine was designed to tolerate that much fire. Lulu was hunkered down in one of the harpoon
stations. Rowan was at the wheel. Farima was sitting on the deck of the machine, looking sourly at
Rowan. Lythienne was standing by the side of the vehicle looking wistfully towards Haruman's
Hill.

The engine stopped shrieking and dropped to its normal loud roar. The flames in the fuel tank died
and they slowed down to a more normal speed. Rowan looked over her shoulder and, seeing that
Haruman was gone, throttled back a bit to smooth out the ride over the unpaved ground.

Pariah made her way to Lythienne. "Good plan," she yelled over the sound of the engine.

Lythienne didn't answer, still staring towards the hill. Then she turned a somber face towards
Pariah. "Swear to me," she said, barely loud enough to be heard over the engine. "Swear we will
rescue him, even if we can't save the people of Elturel."

Pariah wasn't sure how to answer that. She stepped forward and put her arms around Lythienne,
holding her tightly. Into Lythienne's ear, she said hesitantly, "I promise. We'll find a way to free
him. No matter what."

It was hard for her to speak. The words burned in her brain and stuck in her throat. It was all she
could do to force them out.

Because she knew her words were a lie.

Chapter End Notes

That crowbar has been in Pariah's inventory since day 1. Sometimes a burglar needs
something other than a lockpick.

Narzugons are supposed to have a lance, but they show Haruman with a greatsword
and I liked that imagery better. The downside (for the PCs) is that the greatsword
doesn't get the disadvantage for attacking targets within 5' like the lance does.
I ran the combat in Roll20 and he downed Pariah in one round. Well, that's boring! So
I padded the hell out of the narrative. I treated Farima's guardian of faith more like a
summoned creature than a passive damage field, and decided that the banishment spell
required enough concentration to force Farima to drive.

I didn't bother doing the "Lulu kidnapped by hellwasps" part because that seems to
exist mostly to give the PCs more encouragement to run, and they were already going
to run. Plus, on the remix map, the hellwasp hive is 80 miles away! Even on the
module map, which has no scale, it's obviously a journey of a day or two. Why would
hellwasps hunt so far away from the hive? Oh, that's right, because nothing in this
module makes sense.
 A Clean Getaway
Chapter Summary

After the demoralizing encounter at Haruman's Hill, the war machine speeds into the
trackless Avernian wastes.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The sound of the engine wound down as Rowan pulled back on the throttle, the growling finally
sputtering out and stopping. The silence of the empty wasteland hung heavily over the somber
mood of the group. Flat ground stretched out as far as they could see, broken up by webs of
canyons. Nothing moved, and no sound reached them through the stagnant, oppressive air.

Pariah was standing at one of the weapon stations, looking across the landscape without really
seeing anything. Farima stood at the other. Lythienne sat in one of the seats in the back, her
shoulders slumped, her hands pulling at each other. Lulu had tried to comfort her but Pariah had
called her off, saying they needed to give Lythienne some space. That had been for Lulu's safety;
she wasn't sure what Lythienne would do to the hollyphant in her current mood.

Rowan rose from the driver's seat and stood next to the fuel tank. The four women looked at each
other in silence. Pariah wasn't sure what to say and obviously no one else had much of an idea.
Finally, Rowan spoke.

"I don't know where we are," she said. "I was driving roughly north, but navigating around the
canyons messed up my sense of direction. I'm not sure how long I drove so I don't know how far
we are from where we were. I'm tired. I think we all are. So maybe we just stop here and rest."

Nobody had a response to that. Pariah couldn't form an opinion. It seemed as good an idea as any,
and probably better than charging off in a random direction hoping to find something. Haruman
had been a waste of time, and yet they had no alternate plan. Hopelessly she said, "What can we
do?"

Ice ran through her veins and she grabbed the edge of the armor plating around the harpoon station,
trying to keep to her feet. "Not now, dammit!" she growled as her body started to shiver violently.

Words spread through her mind like frost across a window. "You found the first. Now find the
other. General Olanthius abides in captivity. Learn the location of his prison."

"Why should I listen?" she demanded. "You sent me to Haruman for nothing. I thought you had a
plan, but you are just guessing. Wasting my time."

Levistus chuckled. "Your encounter with Haruman went exactly as I had anticipated. It served its
purpose."

"What purpose? What did that prove other than to torture a friend of mine? Was that what it was?
You satisfying your own need to inflict pain? Well, fuck you! I'm done listening to you. We'll find
our own way."
"As you wish," he said indifferently. "As always, you are welcome to ignore my counsel. If you
think you are smarter than an immortal who has matched wits with the Lord of Hell himself, then
feel free."

"Matched wits and lost," she said nastily. She had read about him in Candlekeep and knew he had
been imprisoned by Asmodeus for his betrayals, though he still ruled Stygia from his confinement.

"Did I?" he said with an amused tone. "If it's important for you to believe that, then do so. But
know that you have done precisely what I planned, as you will now. If you wish to exercise the
illusion of free will, then be my guest." She had heard him angry before, but at the moment his
tone was polite with a hint of condescension. "Achieve this goal and I will reward you with a
significant expansion of your magical power, whether you believe you are obeying me or defying
me."

She felt his presence depart, and she sat heavily against the frame of the harpoon gun. The others
were all watching her with anticipation.

"He wants us to find Olanthius," she said. "I say fuck him. We'll figure out our own plan."

Anger and sorrow fought across Lythienne's face. "What did he say about his reasons for sending
us to Haruman?"

Pariah grimaced and, mocking his self-important tone, said, "It went exactly as anticipated." She
gritted her teeth. "I think he's just an asshole who likes to torture mortals. Maybe it was some kind
of punishment because we asked Torm for guidance. I don't care. I'm not dancing to his tune
anymore. We'll find another answer."

After a moment of silence, Farima said reluctantly, "Olanthius was in Lulu's memory." Pariah
looked up to see her lips were pursed. With disgust, Farima said, "Though I am loathe to admit it,
finding him might be our best chance to discover the location of the Sword of Zariel."

Pariah wanted to argue with her, but had to admit she was right. Fury blossomed inside her. She
cast her head back and shouted, "Fuck!" loudly at the sky, drawing the word out until she was out
of breath.

They decided to stay where they were. The land was flat with no hills nearby. The canyons were
sheer and they couldn't see a bottom to any of them, so they wouldn't be a source of cover. All they
could do was hope nobody came by, at least nobody who would bother them.

Pariah, Lythienne and Lulu let Rowan attend to their wounds. Lythienne sat lifelessly as Rowan
removed her gloves to address the injuries her hands had taken from the spikes on Evaelisar's
bindings. Rowan also mumbled a prayer to repair the rent leather in the palms of the gloves.

When she was done, Rowan went off to check on Farima. Pariah encouraged Lulu to go with her.
When they were gone, she put an arm around Lythienne and said softly, "I'm sorry about what
happened."

Lythienne raised her head to look at Pariah. "There's no reason to apologize for not being able to
defeat him," she said in a flat tone.

Pariah shook her head. "That's not what I mean. I really do think that was a punishment. Levistus
made you suffer for my defiance."

Lythienne's lips tightened. "I know this is an obvious statement, but devils are evil. All devils." She
glanced over at Lulu and back at Pariah. "No matter their pasts. We would all to well to remember
that." Her eyes went to Pariah's cheek and her anger faded into contrition. "I'm sorry for striking
you."

Pariah waved it off. "It's fine. You had a pretty good excuse for being upset."

After Rowan was done with her ministrations, they decided to sleep in the war machine itself rather
than on the ground. It was uncomfortable but it would make it easier to get away if necessary.
They each took their watches. They all agreed Lythienne should rest, but she insisted on taking her
shift.

Pariah slept poorly. Not surprisingly her nightmares included screaming Hellriders, bloodsucking
stirges and black-armored devils on fiery horses. When she woke up, Rowan was laying out
breakfast from their supplies. Lythienne was helping without enthusiasm.

After stretching for a bit, Pariah retrieved her alchemy jug and started pouring water into
everyone's cups. Farima had joined them by this time. As she got to Rowan, the priest didn't hold
out her cup right away. "I'd rather have beer," she said. Pariah frowned and Rowan said, "Don't
give me that look."

"What look?" the tiefling asked in surprise.

"That look," Rowan said defensively. "Yes, I'm having beer for breakfast. I've had a few bad days.
I've earned it."

"All right," Pariah said, turning the jug to the beer spigot. "I didn't mean to seem judgy."

Rowan snorted but didn't reply.

They ate in silence, as they seemed to have been recently. Pariah ended up pulling out one of the
adventure books they had gotten off the galleon, letting the terrible writing soothe the thoughts
racing in her brain. Lythienne's mood had transitioned from yesterday's gloom to a simmering
anger. Farima didn't seem upset but was introspective. Rowan and Lulu seemed to be coping.

Towards the end of the meal, Rowan said, "Farima, are you all right?"

"Hmm?" Farima asked. "Yes. Why?"

"You just seem like you have a lot on your mind this morning. Bad dreams?"

Farima said slowly, "No, actually. My sleep was relatively untroubled, though I did have a dream.
I'm trying to decide if it was just a dream or possibly a message."

That got everyone's attention. Pariah looked up from her book, her curiosity piqued. Rowan asked,
"What was the dream?"

Farima stood and pointed out over the wasteland. "Last night I saw a caravan of vehicles. That was
not the dream; that part was real. There were nine of them driving in a line, heading in that
direction. They were vehicles of war, much like this one, but they were festooned with bright
streamers. Had I seen such a procession back in our world I would have assumed it was a carnival
troupe. I thought it a curious sight considering where we were and had planned to mention it to the
rest of you once you awoke."

She turned back to them. "After Rowan relieved me and I slept, my dreams were mostly peaceful. I
felt the evils of this place kept at bay as though I slept behind a protective barrier. At one point,
though, I felt a presence that might have been the being who has visited me before. It was weak
and distant. I suppose that I am more difficult to reach in this dread place. However, I had one very
vivid dream. I rode a horse that roared. I galloped across the scorching deserts of Calimshan,
chasing colorful ribbons being blown by the wind. I knew I had to reach them but, as I did, I
awoke."

She looked over the group. "It seems that the sign is to follow the caravan, though I do not know
why. It is possible it was merely a dream, but it had the feel of prophecy to it. I thought I would
mention it as we plan our next step."

Pariah considered her story. She knew that Farima was reluctant to follow the advice of Levistus.
While Pariah didn't think she was lying about what she saw, she wondered if Farima had latched
onto this dream as a way to avoid the bidding of an archdevil.

Then again, avoiding the bidding of an archdevil felt like a good decision to her.

Rowan took a drink of beer. "The other choice is to go back to Fort Knucklebone and ask Mad
Maggie how to find that woman she said would know Olanthius's location."

Lythienne said, "It would cost us a soul coin to cross back over the bridge and possibly another if
we need to come back to this side of the river." She looked around and then pointed in the opposite
direction that Farima had. "I believe the river is roughly that way, so it seems the caravan is
staying on this side. We might want to save our coins."

Pariah remembered that her nightmares hadn't only been of Haruman last night. "I'm not sure I
agree. I think I'd sleep better if I didn't hear the souls in the coins screaming in my brain every
night."

Rowan looked towards the fuel tank. "That leads to the other thing I wanted to talk about; we are
almost out of fuel. We need to decide how we are going to power this machine."

Farima said firmly, "We had agreed we would try using our own energies before further
tormenting the souls in the coins."

Lythienne replied, "We said we would discuss it. I think we are better off using the coins." Pariah
was a little surprised. She thought Lythienne might have changed her mind after seeing the souls of
the Hellriders being tortured.

Pariah looked over at Rowan, who seemed as conflicted as she felt. Pariah said slowly, "Well, I
guess I agree with Farima. I'd rather try it myself before trying another coin."

"Yeah," Rowan sighed. She turned to the hollyphant. "Lulu?"

"Well," Lulu said, drawing the word out. "I don't want anyone to be hurt, not even evil people. But
if someone has to be hurt, better evil people than my friends."

Farima harrumphed angrily. "At the very least, those of use willing to try should be allowed to do
so before we torment another soul against their will. I will go first."

She stood and approached the fuel tank. She reached out for the rod at the top but hesitated before
touching it. "Tyr protect me," she whispered, and then she grabbed the metal shaft.

Immediately, every muscle in her body tensed up. She squeezed her eyes shut and drew her lips
back to show clenched teeth. After a couple of seconds, a shriek of agony spilled from her. She
opened her mouth and screamed into the sky.
The others were on their feet by now. Rowan yelled, "Farima, that's enough."

Pariah wasn't sure if they should try grabbing her and pulling her away or not. The infernal
machine might drain all of them. She was still debating when Farima released her grip on her own
and fell to her knees, shaking. At least she had stopped screaming.

They all gathered around her. Rowan reached out to touch her, saying, "Tymora, relieve this brave
woman of her pain."

Farima's muscles were still clenched, her eyes squeezed shut, and her breathing was heavy and fast.
Rowan's prayer didn't seem to have helped. Rowan said, "Farima, tell us how you are feeling."

Farima took in a long shuddering breath and let it out. She relaxed slightly and opened her eyes.
"That was...more than I was expecting."

Lythienne said, "See? We should use the soul coins for this."

"No!" Farima said sharply. "The pain I felt increases my resolve that we should not subject souls to
these torments."

Pariah stood to look at the gauge on the tank. "Talona's tits," she said.

"What?" Rowan asked.

"The needle is only about a third of the way. That's one day of fuel. I thought it would fill the
tank."

Farima said, "That is still one more day than we had." She started to stand, and then seemed dizzy
and sat heavily on the ground.

"You're hurt," Rowan said.

"I am not injured," Farima insisted. "I am just a bit disoriented."

Pariah studied her. "Even I can see that you are still in pain."

Farima waved her off. "Only some small discomfort. I imagine I will be fine with a little rest."

Rowan was studying her in concern. "Let's wait a bit to get moving and give you a chance to lie
down and recover. But if you aren't feeling better by tomorrow, then...well, I'm not sure what. But
letting this thing suck our lives out isn't going to help anyone."

Farima grumbled but lay back down on her bedroll. Pariah and Lythienne took station on the
harpoons to watch for trouble while Rowan stayed by Farima to examine her and pray over her.
Lulu sat nearby, watching with worry.

Farima said, "Lulu, I've been meaning to ask you something. I saw you talking to the man at the
top of the hill yesterday. He seemed to be separated from the others. Who was he?"

Lulu said conversationally, "Oh, that was Jander Sunstar. I kind of remember him. He was the
commander who betrayed Zariel. He led the cowardly deserters who ran away leaving everyone to
die."

Pariah looked over at Lythienne who was keeping her face carefully neutral. Pariah snapped,
"Lulu!"
The hollyphant looked up in surprise. "What?"

Pariah frowned at her. Harshly she said, "Remember that Lythienne's brother was one of those
soldiers. Show some respect!"

"But they were cowards," Lulu began.

"Stop! Think about how you feel when people say things about Zariel. Be a little nicer."

Lulu looked over at Lythienne and then back to Pariah. "OK, I guess." She still seemed confused.
"So he was the...guy who ordered those...people to...leave during the battle. And he closed the
portal."

That wasn't much better, but it would have to do. Farima said, "The stirges seemed to be flying
back and forth to him. Do you know why?"

"Yeah. He was a vampire. I mean I guess he was a good vampire or something like that. He was
always all covered up when he was out. Most people didn't know the real reason he dressed like
that; they just thought he was weird. But Zariel knew and she told me. He drank from animals
instead of people, and he killed other vampires so she was willing to work with him. He was one of
Haruman's knights and the one who convinced him to help Zariel. And he was a good leader, at
least until he ordered the...uh...going away from battle that time."

Farima said, "Were the stirges feeding him blood?"

Lulu cocked her head as she considered the question. "I think so. I'm not sure. They just ignored
me."

"What did he say to you?"

"At first he was happy to see me. He thought I had been sent from Lathander to rescue him. After
the battle in Avernus he had felt really bad. He told me that a bunch of years later he went out into
the sun and begged for Lathander's mercy but the sun killed him and he went to Hell and has been
suffering on Haruman's Hill since. He thought I was a sign that Lathander had forgiven him. He
was really sad when I said that wasn't why I was there. And than Haruman came and all that stuff
happened so I had to leave."

Farima rested for a while but then she insisted she was fine and they should get started. "The
caravan is just getting farther away," she warned. They had all agreed that pursuing Farima's vision
was preferable to listening to Levistus.

Rowan drove towards where Farima had seen the vehicles. The tracks of nine war machines had
left a scar across the land so it was easy to get on their trail.

Pariah used her disguise trick to track the hours, changing her palm to display a number and
increasing the number each time the magic expired. When her palm read "5" they stopped briefly
for a meal and then she took over driving for Rowan. The tracks they were following appeared and
disappeared depending on whether the ground was earth or rock, but the path was straight. Even if
the trail faded, as long as they drove in a straight line they would pick it up again.

Her palm read "7" when Rowan said into the earring, "I see something on the horizon. It looks like
buildings."

As they drew closer to what Rowan had spotted, they could see it wasn't buildings. Nine war
machines had been parked in a large horseshoe shape, facing out in a defensive perimeter. Within
 that arc, a collection of colorful tents had been erected. Pariah could see a few figures milling
around the tents, though it was too far to make out any detail, and two more war machines inside
the horseshoe in an area that seemed to be reserved for parking.

A shimmering wall of colored lights floated in the air above the entrance to the horseshoe. The
lights spelled out words in a language Pariah didn't recognize, and yet it was clear what it said. She
didn't think it was her gift from Levistus that let her read it. The message seemed to project directly
into her mind.

Large letters across the top proclaimed, "The Wandering Emporium". Below that was written in
smaller letters, "All are welcome". At the very bottom it said, "No stealing! No fighting! No
spellcasting! No exceptions!"

Pariah realized she had unconsciously brought the war machine to a halt, the engine still rumbling.
The camp laid out before her seemed warm and welcoming. "Does this feel like a trap to anyone
else?" she shouted over her shoulder.

Rowan said, "Well, not until you said that."

Farima seemed confused. "Why would it be a trap? It seems very friendly."

"Yeah," Pariah said. "That's what worries me. We're in Hell. At least the guards in Fort
Knucklebone threatened to kill us. This makes me very nervous."

"I suppose you have a point," said Farima, "but I would like to follow my vision."

Lulu said, "I think I remember this place. And I think it's a good place." That last sentence sounded
less than sure.

Lythienne added, "And we don't really have another destination in mind."

"Fair enough," Pariah sighed. "Let's go." She pushed the throttle ahead and they started to move
towards the brightly colored tableau in front of them.

Chapter End Notes

For those of you who don't know, Jander Sunstar is from the module but he is also
featured in the novel Vampire of the Mists, which is his experience meeting Count
Strahd Von Zarovich. The module date would put his experience with the Hellriders
two to three centuries after his time with Strahd.

Here he's just dumped into the module with practically no story, and if you release him
he decays to dust, so that seems like a huge waste. There was literally ZERO reason to
use an established canon character here.
 A Wandering Emporium
Chapter Summary

Following Farima's vision, the group arrives at the infamous Wandering Emporium.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah drove slowly through the entrance of the Wandering Emporium and turned towards where
two other war machines were parked. These two were about half the size of their vehicle and had
only four wheels. The details were different but they followed the same general design of armor
and spikes and weapons. She realized there was one more machine, a two-wheeled vehicle that
would fit only one person. None of the vehicles had any occupants. She remembered the "No
stealing" sign and wondered if this place was able to enforce such a rule effectively.

She parked the vehicle a little distance away from the other ones and cut the power. The grumble
of the engine petered out, and she stood and stretched her sore muscles with a groan. As she did,
she surveyed the area.

A wide lane led down the center of the horseshoe, flanked by businesses on each side. Some of
them were tents and others were under open roofs. From this angle she couldn't see what the
businesses were, though she heard the distinct sound of a hammer and anvil. She wondered if it
was a tinker's shed that might be able to repair the combat damage to the war machine.

At the end of the lane stood an archway of swirling energy. Above it was another sign like the one
at the entrance: a sheet of light in a language that spoke directly into her mind. "Infernal Rapture"
read large, elaborate letters at the top. Below that was written, "Finest dining and most relaxing spa
in Avernus! All are welcome!"

Two hobgoblins were carrying crates to one of the areas under an open roof. Three people sat in a
circle near one of the tents, rolling dice on a board and cheering or moaning at the results. One was
a bald, gray-skinned dwarf with a disheveled gray beard. He wore leathers colored a drab red. She
had seen duergar like him in Sow's Foot. They tended to be surly and greedy. The second was a
spined devil, though this one was colored orange and brown rather than the purple ones she'd seen
before. The last was a beautiful woman in immaculate black plate armor. Pariah might have
thought she was human if it weren't for the wings of red and black feathers on her back. She found
herself wondering how the armor fit over the wings.

All of these people glanced over at the newcomers, but they didn't give off the predatory air of the
people at Fort Knucklebone. They were simply curious. After a moment, the hobgoblins went back
to their hauling and the others went back to their gambling.

Pariah looked at the fuel gauge. "We're nearly empty again," she said to the others, who were also
working the kinks out of their joints.

Rowan sighed. "Well, we can deal with that later. I wonder if they have food and lodging here."

Pariah nodded towards the archway. "Well, they have food at least." As she said that, a human
man stepped out of the portal. He was tall and strong, looked to be in his forties, and had olive skin
and a long, well-kept beard of brown with gray streaks. He wore rich silks and gold jewelry. A
jeweled silver dagger was stuck in his wide leather belt at a jaunty angle, looking more like a
fashion accessory than a true weapon.

He strode confidently down the lane with a bright smile on his face. He looked into the businesses
he passed, waving and calling out to people. "Dazorz, Klavrog, how are you two fine young
gentlemen today? Slagg, love the new dagger. Fine work as always!"

He was clearly headed towards the newcomers, who had dismounted the vehicle by this time. His
eyes swept over them as he turned to greet someone on his right. "Fhet'Ahla, later I will-" He broke
off and snapped his head forward again. He stopped in his tracks, staring. Pariah realized he was
looking at Lulu, but that was nothing new. What was a surprise was what he did next.

"Lulu?" he called out as his smile faded. "Is that you?"

"Do you know me?" Lulu asked uncertainly. "You seem really familiar and I think I know you, but
I don't remember."

His smile brightened again and he hurried forward. "Lulu! My dear friend, I am so happy to see
you. It has been forever! My dear, of course you remember me and this place. I am Mahadi,
proprietor of the Wandering Emporium and friend to all. You wandered in here one day, lost and
alone, and you stayed with me."

"I did?" Lulu asked uncertainly. Pariah frowned. He was another one she could get no reading off
of. Obviously, people in the Nine Hells were better at hiding their emotions than people in the
Material Plane. However she recognized his voice from the visions in the dream machine, so
clearly Lulu had met him before.

"You did," Mahadi assured Lulu. "Even back then, your memory was spotty so I sheltered you as
you recovered. And then one day, poof, you were gone. I was heartbroken! I didn't know if you'd
been kidnapped or had just left. I am so pleased to see you again!" He turned to the rest of the
group. "And who are your new friends?"

Lulu said, "Most of them don't speak Celestial so we should switch to Common."

Lythienne said in confusion, "But you are speaking Elvish."

"No," Rowan said. "You are already speaking Common."

Mahadi chuckled and waved to indicate the tents around him. "The Wandering Emporium is a
place for commerce and fraternization, an oasis where all are welcome to meet and talk and eat and
drink. Language, written or spoken, is no barrier here, and we all understand one another. But,
please, introduce yourselves and let me know how the Wandering Emporium can serve you."

There was a pause and then Lythienne stepped forward and offered her hand. "I am Lythienne," she
said with a courteous smile, though Pariah could see the sadness in her eyes.

He took her hand in both of his. "A pleasure to meet you," he said with enthusiasm as his eyes
flicked up and down her body. "You carry yourself with such elegance and grace, even in this
rugged world. Your movements are so precise and delicate. Are you, by chance, a performer by
trade? A dancer, perhaps, or an acrobat?"

Lythienne inclined her head. "A bit of both, and other things by necessity."
He waved towards one of the tents. "We have a stage here. I hope you will grace us with a
performance before you depart."

She looked over at the tent, a spark of interest showing through her grief. "I shall have to see. It has
been a long time since I've had an audience."

Mahadi released her hand and turned to Rowan. She offered her hand, though a bit more reluctantly
than Lythienne had. "I'm Rowan," she said.

Again he did the double-handed clasp, and again his eyes passed over her, observing and
calculating. "Sister Rowan, I am humbled to be in the presence of a priest of the Shining Lady, for
we all need the blessing of good fortune. Welcome!"

He turned to Farima, who did not extend a hand. She didn't seem offended by him; she was just
being her usual prim and proper self. "I am Farima yr Sameen el Zahra yi Almraiven," she said
stiffly.

Mahadi didn't hesitate when her hand was not offered. His own hands went to his side as though he
had never intended to invade her personal space. Nor did he seem offended by her attitude as his
appraising gaze brushed over her. "Welcome, Farima, daughter of Sameen. I sense a spellcaster of
great power and piety. I am honored by your presence in my unworthy establishment."

He turned to the last of the group. "I'm Pariah," she said offering her hand.

His hands were warm and welcoming as they grasped hers. His eyes hesitated for only a brief
second on her tattoos as he looked her up and down. "A skilled duelist." He paused and looked
deeply into her eyes. "And something more, I'd wager. With a powerful ally, and a name that hints
at a fascinating history. What an enticing woman you seem to be. I hope we can offer whatever you
seek."

Pariah wasn't sure how to react. She was charmed by his intensity and charisma. He made her feel
like she was the most important person in the world, and nobody had ever treated her like that. And
yet the cynical voice in her head kept reminding her of where they were.

Her throat was dry, and not just from the Avernian heat, as she said, "And what do you offer us?"

Mahadi stepped back and cast a sympathetic gaze across all of them. "I can see the stress etched on
your faces, the burden felt by mortals traversing the perilous lands of Avernus." He gestured
expansively down the path that led between the businesses to the archway at the end. "Through
that portal is the Infernal Rapture, a resort located in a pocket dimension of my own devising.
There you will find dining, spa and lodging services far from the Nine Hells, free of the pervasive
corruption of this plane."

"Sounds interesting," Pariah said, but it didn't take a genius to suspect he would direct them to the
most expensive establishment first. "And what other services are available?"

He didn't seem bothered by her attempt at redirection. He indicated the first tent on the left. "You
might want to stop at the Bed of Bones, which is run by an intriguing gentleman named Ragrom
Ashskull. He offers food and shelter of fine quality, though not quite as fine as what you will find
at the Infernal Rapture." He winked as he said, "However, he does not offer spa services and
becomes quite offended if you ask him for a massage."

Mahadi pointed further down the road. "Past that is Ichor's Aweigh, where the master alchemist,
Elliach, experiments with demon ichor. He offers a number of quite interesting potions."
He paused there and Pariah asked, "Does he buy demon ichor?"

"He does," Mahadi said distractedly. "And I should warn you that Elliach is a bit...unusual. His
work with demon ichor has taken its toll. He's quite harmless but some people, especially mortals,
are surprised when they first meet him."

Before Pariah could ask a follow up question, Mahadi pressed on. "Finally, we have From Here to
Avernus, where the accommodating Fhet'Ahla provides delivery, notary and money changing
services."

He indicated the tent across from the Bed of Bones. "On this side we have Burney the Barber.
Burney is an enchanting woman who can offer medical and cosmetic services, and a visit to her can
be quite relaxing after a long drive across the wastelands. Past that you will find Z'neth's Larva
Farm where you will find the finest larvae in the Lower Planes. Finally, that hammering you hear
is the sound of Firesnake Forge. Rassh, Skids and Slagg offer a variety of smithing and vehicle
services."

"They repair war machines?" Pariah asked.

"Yes, and they can offer new weapons and other amenities. Come, my friends, why don't we retire
to the Infernal Rapture for a feast. You look like you have traveled hard and deserve some
relaxation. Please, this way."

He guided Lythienne and Rowan forward with gentle hands on their backs, and the others followed
along hesitantly. As they passed the first pair of tents, Pariah looked to the left across Farima to see
one of the signs of light announcing the Bed of Bones. Two massive femurs framed the door flap
and the skull of an enormous devil was mounted overhead. Farima was looking to their right and
suddenly stopped with an expression of surprise on her face. Pariah stopped as well and turned to
see what she was looking at.

This sign identified the shop as Burney the Barber, and the front face was decorated by colorful
ribbons. A cheerful human woman smiled at them from where she stood next to a barber's chair.
She had brown skin and black hair, and her clothing was high-quality and immaculate. Pariah
looked back at Farima and saw she was still staring at the barber shop. "What's wrong?" Pariah
asked.

Farima glanced at her. "Those ribbons. They are very much like the ones in my dream last night.
And I believe that woman is Calishite."

Pariah looked back, raising her eyebrows. "Maybe you should go inside."

Farima turned to see the others had continued without them. "Perhaps later," she said. "It may not
be safe for us to become separated."

They hurried to catch up to the others before they reached the portal. "Mahadi," Pariah called out.
The man turned to her with a winning smile. She said, "How safe is this place? I know the sign
says no stealing and no fighting, but how safe is this place really?"

He came over to stand in front of her, and he put his hands on her shoulders. "A fair question, my
friend, considering the horrors that surround us. I assure you that this haven is intended to be a safe
harbor for anyone. I am a gentleman of peaceful nature, but..." His voice hardened. "...any
infraction of the rules is punished quite harshly."

In a flash, he was back to being the friendly host, so quickly that Pariah almost believed she had
imagined that glimpse of intensity. He said smoothly, "Everyone knows better than to break my
rules. You have my personal guarantee of your safety while within the bounds of the Wandering
Emporium."

Pariah glanced over at Farima, who was looking back towards the barber. "I think you should go
ahead," Pariah said.

"Yes," Farima said. "Perhaps that would be a good idea. I shall join you later." She hurried off
towards the barber's tent.

Mahadi watched her go with curiosity. To Pariah he said, "Why don't you go with her?"

She turned back to him suspiciously. "I thought you said we were safe here."

"Of course, of course," he chuckled. "That wasn't my intended meaning. I merely noticed that you
have some injuries. Burney offers healing as well as cosmetic services. I'm sure she could help
with your wounds."

"I'm fine," Pariah shrugged. "Rowan keeps me healthy," she said with a nod at the woman.

"Of course," he smiled. "Well, then, shall we continue?"

A hint of unpleasant odor drifted across them as they passed the next two businesses. An
unadorned tent of red leather stood to their left, its flap closed. A sign over the entrance identified it
as Ichor's Aweigh. To the right was an open area where a hunched hobgoblin with stringy white
hair was throwing food into a cage with a dark green slug-like creature nearly as large as he was.
There were four other cages, each with a similar beast in it. They were all curled up, resting or
dead, but one of them turned towards them and gazed forlornly out of its cage. She was shocked to
see it had the mournful face of a young man with a rough beard. The sign marked the business as
Z'neth's Larva Farm

She stared at the horrible creature but kept walking, forcing herself to turn forward. The flap on the
tent to the left was open and she saw an obese green devil like the one she had seen with Asmodeus
in Lulu's vision: an amnizu she remembered. The sign identified this as From Here to Avernus, and
smaller letters offered messaging, notary and banking services.

To the right was the sound of the hammering that had been growing louder as they walked. It was
another open area, like the larva farm. Three massive snake creatures with muscular arms and
sharp-featured faces worked there. They were colored red and orange, and flames licked up and
down their bodies. As she watched, one of them lifted the blade he had been hammering. Another
one of the creatures grabbed it and the metal started to glow just from his touch. The third was
examining a small two-wheeled war machines like the one she'd seen up front.

Several small halfling-sized creatures who looked like they were made of cooling lava scurried
around the space. Several suits of armor stood to the side. The snake creature looking at the war
machine yelled something, and one of the suits of armor stepped forward to pick a part off a table
and take it to him.

"This is Firesnake Forge," Mahadi was saying. "You were talking about repairing your war
machine. Perhaps you should speak with them now and join us later. It might be best to have them
start work sooner rather than later. If a large group comes to the Emporium, they can suddenly
become booked up."

"No," Pariah said. "I'll talk to them later. Let's just go inside."
 Mahadi hesitated. "I think it would be best. Do not worry, I will take good care of your friends.
Finish your business and then you can relax."

Pariah became suspicious. "Why?" she asked cautiously. "Why don't you want me to come with
you?"

Mahadi chuckled politely. "No, no, not at all. I just think you would be best served taking care of
business so you can enjoy pleasure unencumbered."

Rowan frowned. "She's right. You seem awfully quick to get rid of her. Why?"

Mahadi looked back and forth between Pariah and the rest of the group, not nervous but clearly
struggling. Finally he said, "My apologies. I have been clumsy and impolite. Please forgive me."
He walked over and put an arm around Pariah; she tensed up as he touched her. "May I speak with
you privately for a moment? Just over here? Please, allow me to explain."

Pariah glanced at the others, hesitant to walk away, but they would still be nearby. "All right," she
said reluctantly.

She let him guide her back down the path about ten feet, her hand near the hilt of her sword. In a
low voice, he said, "Again, I apologize for my lack of tact. I was trying not to embarrass you in
front of your companions. I was unsure if they were aware of your...special condition."

Pariah's suspicions only grew. "What special condition?" she asked, hearing the anger in her voice.

"It's just that...well..." He sighed. "Considering the location of my business, I have had to take
special precautions against certain...eventualities. For the safety of all of my guests, you
understand. One of those precautions is that only people with free souls can enter the Infernal
Rapture."

"I have a soul!" Pariah objected, suddenly feeling a sinking inside her. Didn't she?

"Of course, of course." He hesitated. "For now. But you do not have claim to your soul, and therein
lies the complication. Only free souls may enter. You are welcome to patronize any other business
in the Emporium without penalty, but I'm afraid I cannot let someone in your situation enter the
Infernal Rapture."

Chapter End Notes

Bed of Bones is my own addition to the module, offering food and lodging that are
better than camping out but still inferior to what you'd find in Infernal Rapture. I've
also tweaked on the businesses: additional services at Infernal Rapture, money
changing at From Here to Avernus, potions at Ichor's Aweigh, much lower cost of
repair at Firesnake Forge, and so on.

I don't like the cutesy names like Ichor's Aweigh, but I didn't have the energy to
change them. I've had to tweak on so many aspects of the story that I figured I'd leave
those.

Considering the unique aspects of the Infernal Rapture laid out in the module, I
realized that Pariah would be able to go in. I don't want to spoil anything, though it is
probably not hard to figure out. Since she would not be able to enjoy the services of
the Infernal Rapture, it seemed reasonable that he would simply exclude her.
 A Shady Sanctuary
Chapter Summary

The party has found temporary refuge at the Wandering Emporium, though Pariah has
been banned from the Infernal Rapture.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah looked over the mug of ale morosely. The women had argued with Mahadi over Pariah's
ban, while he constantly apologized and tried to smooth things over, but she had finally insisted
that the others go into the Infernal Rapture without her. They might as well enjoy themselves.

She had considered stopping to ask about repairs to the war machine or to sell their demon ichor,
but had decided to check out the Bed of Bones instead. It was run by a duergar with a short, spiky,
iron-gray beard and beady, ash-colored eyes. Most duergar dressed in drab clothing that matched
the rock around them, but this one wore bright green trousers, suspenders with red and white
stripes, and a yellow, ruffled shirt. He had introduced himself as Ragrom Ashbeard through teeth
gritted into a forced smile. Currently he watched the room from behind a wooden bar as he
polished the same glass he'd been polishing for twenty minutes.

The main area had a few tables and there was an open kitchen in the back. A drow man with
obsidian-black skin, short and unkempt white hair and pink eyes worked the kitchen and scurried
about the place, bringing her a third ale. He didn't make eye contact and had that hunched-in,
defeated look of slaves everywhere. Ragrom called him Shitstain. She had asked the drow his real
name and he had just given her a frightened smile and shaken his head before leaving.

She had found out that twenty chits would buy a tight bundle of cloth. Ragrom explained that you
threw the cloth on the ground and it would expand into a tent that would last long enough for one
decent sleep, protecting those inside from the worst the Avernian environment had to offer. She
had seen one of these temporary shelters out behind the main tent. More secure lodgings were
available in the Infernal Rapture; of course, they were priced higher and out of her reach anyhow.

In the time since she'd sat down, the gamblers had come in from outside and ordered a meal. At
another table sat some kind of huge creature Pariah hadn't seen before. She guessed he was a fiend,
but wasn't sure what type. He was male, at least eight feet tall, nearly naked, had smooth, red skin
and huge ears shaped like bat wings. His left arm was massive and muscular, and she guessed it
would reach nearly to the ground when he stood. His right arm was much smaller, almost
shriveled, and held a pen. During the time she had been there, he had ignored everyone else as he
wrote in a large book.

Pariah looked up as the tent flap opened. Rowan, Farima and Lulu entered. Farima's hair was shiny
and well-groomed. Pariah didn't care much about appearances, but she had to admit the haircut
looked quite nice. However, her attention was drawn away from skill of the local hairdresser by
the glum looks on the women's faces.

Pariah glanced behind them. "Where's Lythienne?" she asked.

The two women and Lulu each took seats in the chairs, Lulu's head just poking up over the surface
of the table. Farima said, judgment heavy in her tone, "Lythienne has made the foolish decision to
take advantage of the services of the Infernal Rapture."

Confused, Pariah said, "And that's bad?"

"It is," Rowan confirmed. "On the other side of the portal was a sort of lobby. Before we could go
further, Mahadi said we had to sign an agreement."

"Uh oh," Pariah said.

Rowan sighed, "Yeah, that's where my thoughts went as well. He insisted it was just a guarantee of
payment. I tried to read it but it was confusing. I went and got Farima and asked her to look at it."

Pariah felt a twinge of disappointment that they hadn't asked her to read it, but didn't interrupt.

Farima said, "The contract stated that anyone who used the services of the Infernal Rapture would
be required to pay at the end of service. Anyone who could not pay immediately would be
prevented from leaving the Wandering Emporium until they worked the debt off. I noticed that
language in particular: would be prevented from leaving."

Pariah frowned. "All right, that sounds nasty, but not what I was expecting."

"I as well, but there was more," Farima said. "Buried in the text was a clause stating that, if
someone proved to be unable to pay by any means including working, the soul of the signer would
be forfeited to Mahadi."

"Talona's tits," Pariah sighed. "So he's a devil?"

Farima thought about that for a moment. "No, I do not think so. I asked him to tell me a blatant lie,
and he was able to without hesitation. He claims he is merely the agent of another devil, whom he
refused to name. He was, as usual, gracious and apologetic and insisted that that was an emergency
clause that was almost never invoked."

Pariah snorted. "Sounds like something a fiend who wants to steal your soul would say."

"That was my thought as well," Farima nodded.

"But what about Lythienne?"

Farima and Rowan exchanged a glance. Farima continued, "She was not as bothered by the clause
as we were. She said she would be sure to pay for services up front. She was understandably upset
after our experience at Haruman's Hill and insisted that she wanted a spa treatment. The price was a
soul coin. She made it quite clear that she was going to take her 'share' of the soul coins and use it
to treat herself."

Rowan added, "I was carrying the coins from the war machine; I didn't want to leave them out of
our sight. She wanted her share and I wasn't sure how to say no to her. She is obviously in so much
pain. Honestly, in her current state of grief, I was afraid she might have gone for the spa service
anyhow and dealt with the consequences later, so I gave in."

"Talona's tits," Pariah said again, though she wasn't mad at Rowan or Lythienne. "Could one of
you have stayed to be sure she was all right?"

Rowan said, "We suggested that, but Mahadi was insistent that entering the spa incurred the cost of
a soul coin. We talked about sitting in the lobby, but Mahadi said only customers were allowed to
stay. Lythienne told us to go ahead and eat without her. Oh, and the communication earrings don't
work through the portal so we can't even check up on her."

"Better and better," Pariah growled. She thought about it and then said, "Well, it sounds like there
isn't much we can do about this. It's pretty clear that Mahadi has power, and isn't going to let us
storm in there, so we'll just have to pray that she'll be all right."

"Already done," Rowan replied as she touched the Tymoran coin around her neck. Farima nodded
agreement.

"So let's eat, I guess," Pariah said. She had been waiting for them to return and was currently
starving. She waved towards the duergar. "We're ready to eat," she called out.

"Shitstain!" he barked to the drow, who was currently cleaning the kitchen. "Go take their order."

The drow dropped his cloth and grabbed a board from the counter. He scuttled over to them,
bowing apologetically as he arrived. He held out the board.

Pariah read the menu but didn't recognize many of the dish names. Even the ones she did recognize
sounded suspicious. "What kind of meat is in the meat pie?" she asked hesitantly.

The elf gave an anxious smile, pointed to his mouth and shook his head. Pariah said, "You're not
allowed to speak?"

He shook his head more forcefully. He pointed to his mouth and made a snipping motion with his
fingers. Pariah was confused, but Farima said in disgust, "Your tongue has been cut out?"

He nodded and then, with a nervous glance towards the duergar, tapped the menu board again.

Pariah was horrified by what Farima had said. "Did he do it?" she asked, nodding towards the
duergar as her anger grew.

The drow's anxiety increased. He shook his head firmly, and then tapped the board again as his
eyes grew desperate.

"Shitstain!" the duergar bellowed. "Stop bothering them and just take their order."

Fury bloomed inside Pariah. She stood, pulled the dagger from her belt and stalked over towards
the bar. She buried the point of the knife into the wood as she glared at Ragrom. She snarled, "The
only reason you aren't lying on the ground bleeding is because of the no fighting rule. You may
think you are some kind of badass because you can bully a scared slave, but you interrupt us again
and I'll drag you out of the Emporium, poke a few new holes in you and let you bleed to death in
the wasteland. Got it?"

His return gaze was angry rather than afraid, but he forced the fake smile to his face and grated out,
"Of course. The customer is always right. I just thought he was disturbing you."

Pariah retrieved her dagger and headed back to the table. She knew that had been stupid, but she
had been moving before she even thought about it. The duergar might be cautious of her now, but
he'd take it out on the drow once she left. She hadn't made anything better and might have made it
worse.

She sheathed the weapon and flopped back down in her seat. Everyone else in the tent was
watching her, especially her table companions. She took a breath to calm herself and then said to
the drow in a kind voice, while nodding towards Lulu, "She can read minds. Is it all right if she
does that so we can talk to you?"

The drow glanced back and forth between her and Lulu fearfully and then hesitantly nodded.
Pariah asked, "What's your real name?"

Lulu said, "Shyntraen Helviryn."

She had a lot of other questions about him and his situation, but that was a longer conversation and
might not be something he wanted to talk about. "All right, Shyntraen, what kind of meat is in the
meat pie?"

Lulu replied, "Whatever is ready to spoil. Anything killed more than a few days ago."

"Could that include the meat of devils? Or mortals?"

"Sometimes. Ew! He says if you want something fresher they have recently killed human meat and
some hobgoblin meat that isn't very old."

Pariah tried to keep the disgust off her face. "Any meat that is definitely not from something
intelligent?"

He thought for a moment and then tapped a couple of things on the menu. Pariah considered her
choices. "Abyssal chicken? You mean like demons? Don't they melt when killed here?"

Shyntraen thought about his answer again. Lulu said, "They come from trees that grow in pools of
demon ichor here in Avernus. Since they grew here, they don't melt like other demons. They taste
like chicken."

Chickens that grow on trees might have surprised her once, but she was starting to get used to the
bizarre. "Safe for mortals to eat?" she asked skeptically.

"No one's died so far," Lulu said, and Shyntraen gave a hint of an impish grin.

He was easy for her to read. He radiated gratitude and clearly had no malicious intent. She said,
"All right, the abyssal chicken skewers with whatever vegetable won't poison me. Any bread?"

"Flatbread."

"OK, some of that too."

The other two women ordered the same; Lulu ordered a plate of fruits and vegetables. Rowan and
Pariah also ordered ale, while the other two asked for water.

Shyntraen scurried off to the kitchen to prepare their meal while Ragrom watched him sourly from
the bar before starting to fill their drink order. Pariah was glad her back was to the kitchen. She
didn't really want to see what he was preparing. Farima was facing the kitchen and, from her slight
look of revulsion, Pariah knew she was better off in ignorance.

Casting about for a subject of discussion, Pariah said to Farima, "I like your hair."

Farima self-consciously put a hand up to her head. "Thank you. I'm not one for vanity, but if
nothing else it is the first time I have had my hair washed since Candlekeep. It is refreshing."

"Was Burney from Calimshan?"

Farima opened her mouth and then stopped as her brow furrowed. "Hmm. That is quite odd. I
cannot remember. I know that I..." Her confusion deepened. "I cannot remember any specifics
about her or our conversation. I know I was there, and I remember what we talked about, but I do
not recall the actual act of speaking with her."

Pariah felt worried. "You think she's not human? That she might have done some kind of
enchantment on you?"

Farima considered that. "I have a very positive feeling towards her, though I suppose an
enchantment would cause that. However, I also recall that my dream led me to her shop, so I am
reluctant to believe she means us harm."

Rowan commented, "It's also interesting that you got that dream and then she appeared to be one of
your people. That might not be a coincidence. We know that devils can change their appearance."

Ragrom arrived with their drinks and slammed them down on the table petulantly, spilling onto the
already stained wooden surface. After he'd left, Farima said, "I do not believe she is a fiend, though
that does not mean she is human either. But then, not being human does not mean she is something
evil." She sighed, "Though I suppose it would be unlikely to find a non-evil creature traveling with
this marketplace."

Farima turned to meet Pariah's gaze. "I have been thinking about your distrust of Zephyr Shavar-"

"Look," Pariah interrupted, a little annoyed. "I'm not saying-"

Farima held up her hand to stop Pariah. "Please, allow me to finish. I am saying that I have been
thinking about it and realize that your point about trust is valid. I think I have become so desperate
to find some spark of light in this evil place that I may be trying too hard to see the benevolence in
the beings we meet. This point was driven home quite effectively by Mahadi -- a man who seemed
kind and friendly, who then tried to get us to sign a contract to give up our souls. Evil speaks with
honeyed words to confuse the unwary."

Pariah thought that last line was probably a proverb, though not one she'd heard before. Out of
concession to Farima, she said, "Well, I admit that I grew up learning to not trust people by default.
Most people seem to be out to screw everyone over. And that was in our world, so imagine how
much worse it is here. But maybe between me not trusting anyone and you trusting everyone we
can find a happy medium."

That got a small smile out of Farima, which faded as she said, "Although I do not care for your
devil's sight, I am curious what kind of impression you have gotten from the people we have met so
far."

Pariah sipped her ale while she thought. "I'm finding a lot of people in this place, like Tasha and
Mahadi, are just blank to me, like looking through a window to see a stone wall. Others, like
Mickey, give me this weird jumble that doesn't really mean anything, like hearing something in
another language. And of course Mad Maggie shone with such corruption it was blinding." She
thought about it. "But I didn't get the idea that Shavar was malicious. Maybe greedy and selfish,
probably not completely trustworthy, but then that describes most people."

"And Burney?" Farima asked.

Pariah frowned as she tried to remember. "Nothing comes to mind. I guess I didn't look at her that
closely from outside the tent."
Rowan blew out a breath. "I'm concerned what effect this place has on people in it. We've all
started to show changes in our behavior, and we've been here only a few days. The ethical
sacrifices that have to be made in a plane run by devils, the kind of place where it's normal to have
human meat on the menu and ride in machines powered by mortal souls, are likely to corrupt
anyone over a long period." She unconsciously touched the Tymoran symbol around her neck. "We
need allies, but allies are not friends. I think we should be very cautious of anybody we meet here."

Farima looked puzzled again as she struggled to remember. "That reminds me of something
Burney said. Or at least that I think she said. There is a human mage named Mordenkainen who
lives nearby, quite knowledgeable about Avernus and its environs. He might be able to point us to
Olanthius. She thought it would be wiser to ask him than to query anyone here." She grunted in
frustration. "I wish I could remember the conversation, and why I even mentioned Olanthius to
her."

Pariah turned to Rowan. "You want to ask Tymora? See if she thinks this Morty-whatever guy is
worth visiting?"

"Sure," Rowan said. She looked down at the table, then over to the kitchen, and then around the
tent. "This will take a while. Let me do it over there in case the food comes while I'm in the middle
of it." She took her mug to a nearby table and Lulu joined her. Rowan dug into her backpack to
retrieve the coins she used for this kind of divination.

Pariah turned back to see that Farima was watching Rowan with a gloomy look. "What's wrong?"
Pariah asked.

Farima turned to her, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wrong?" She hesitated and then said, "I
supposed that I am frustrated that yet again we seem to be following the path of your...guide."

Pariah's mood soured instantly. "Yeah, somehow I knew that was going to happen." She studied
Farima. "But you trust whatever power sends you these dreams, right?"

"Absolutely," Farima said with conviction.

Pariah turned to look at Rowan spinning coins on the table's surface. "And I trust Tymora more
than I trust Levistus. If she says it's the right move, then I guess we go." She shook her head. "I just
wish these fucking immortals were clearer in their messages."

Farima leaned back in her chair. "They are bound by their-" She winced and grunted in pain.

"Are you all right?" Pariah asked in alarm.

"Yes, I am fine, thank you. I am still sore and weak from my effort to fuel our machine."

"It's no better?"

Farima raised her mug. "No, but I hope a decent sleep will help." She took a deep draught.

Pariah looked in concern at Farima's face, detecting a hint of exhaustion there. Even if they took
turns, fueling the war machine might weaken them so much that they couldn't fight, and there were
certainly more fights in their future. And yet, now that they knew the suffering that it caused,
subjecting a soul to that torment seemed cruel. A part of her insisted that it was necessary to
prevent the greater torment of losing Elturel, but that seemed like a weak justification.

Sacrifice two cities of strangers to save a city of friends.

 Further contemplation was interrupted as Shyntraen placed a plate of rank-smelling meat, withered
vegetables, and a piece of slightly burned and possibly moldy flatbread in front of her. She
contemplated the sad meal for a moment before picking up a fork and digging in.

Chapter End Notes

The tents from the Bed of Bones are sort of a cheap knockoff of Leomund's tiny hut.
They offer advantage on corruption saves, whereas the real spell would give automatic
success.

Abyssal chickens are from the module. They may taste like chicken but they don't
look like them.

Here's a question: do hollyphants need to eat? I've had her eat and drink out of
politeness, but does she need to? I know that the MM says that angels don't need food,
drink or sleep. The entry for hollyphants in DIA doesn't say that, nor does Lulu's
Guide to Hollyphants. However, hollyphants are celestials so I assume they follow the
same rules.

Not that this affects the story, but sometimes I wonder about stuff.
 A Shopping Day
Chapter Summary

The group finishes their first meal and begins exploring the Wandering Emporium.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"So they're worthless?" Pariah asked.

Fhet'Ahla, the obese, green-skinned devil who was the proprietor of From Here to Avernus, looked
over the pile of crude chits she'd gotten from the warlord who had attacked them just outside of
Fort Knucklebone. "Not worthless, but not worth much. Raggadragga is on his way out. If he
settles in another base, starts expanding his gang, then maybe these will be worth more. But for
now, they are junk."

"What can you give me for them?" she asked in resignation.

The devil's twisted and withered wings flapped slightly in annoyance. "One Emporium chit for the
bag."

"That's ridiculous!" she grunted, though she realized that as soon as word spread that Raggadragga
was dead, these would be worth nothing.

Fhet'Ahla shrugged. "Then take them with you. Nobody will give you more. Most will give you
less."

The greed radiating off of him didn't require devil's sight to detect, but that didn't mean he was
lying. "Fine," she sighed. There was no reason to keep lugging around a bag of rocks, and she
wasn't interested in wandering Avernus looking for a better deal.

She had already exchanged most of their Faerûnian coins for Emporium chits, getting a bit less
than one chit per gold piece. The decision to do so had been difficult, since it was an admission that
they no longer believed they were likely to find their way back to the Material Plane.

Pariah had one more thing to sell to him. She was wearing her gloves as she gingerly pulled the
burned out soul coin from her satchel. "What's this worth to you?"

Fhet'Ahla reached out to touch it and then nodded. "Soul still inside. Ten chits."

"That's all?" she said, disappointed.

He nodded. "Mahadi is one of the few who buys these. He runs caravans down to Minauros to get
spent coins reforged, so he'll pay a little for them, but the trips are expensive." When she hesitated,
he growled, "Again, nobody will give you more, some will give you less, most will give you
nothing."

Something felt wrong about trading this soul for profit, but what else were they going to do? Lug
them around while the souls shrieked in their dreams? It's not like she had the power to free this
man, nor did he necessarily deserve freedom. Did he suffer inside the coin? Rowan had spoken to
the coins a number of times, but Pariah had never asked what she heard. In some ways, she didn't
want to know.

"Fine," she said, feeling uncomfortable. "Ten chits."

Fhet'Ahla counted out ten black stone tokens. "That all?" he asked in an annoyed tone.

"You send messages, right?" He didn't answer, just gave her the look you give someone who asked
a stupid question. She continued, "How much to get a message to the Material Plane?"

"Something physical like a letter or small package, one soul coin. Spoken message up to 25 words,
two hundred Emporium chits, and the recipient can send a 25-word reply."

Pariah thought about that. She had talked to the salamanders at the forge and they were going to
charge nearly four hundred chits to repair the war machine. Two hundred for a brief message
probably wasn't worth it, but she'd talk to the others about it. "Not right now," she said. "I think
that's all."

"Then get out," the devil grumbled.

Pariah gave him a bright smile. "And 'have a nice day' to you too," she said as she exited the tent.

She breathed in the less fetid air of the outside. Fhet'Ahla's tent had been filled with an unpleasant
stench, though she wasn't sure if it came from his corpulent body or something else in the tent.
Either way, the dry air that burned her nose as she inhaled was less awful than the rankness inside.
That was Avernus in a nutshell: nothing was better, things were only less bad.

Pariah looked over towards the Infernal Rapture. Farima was sitting by the portal with Lulu. She
had stepped into the portal once to talk to Lythienne over the earring, and the elven woman had
assured her that she was quite safe. However, the lobby attendant had politely but firmly asked her
to leave. So Farima had decided to wait outside the portal until Lythienne came back out.

Rowan was still in the Bed of Bones, last seen staring into a mug of ale. Pariah was afraid she was
starting to drink too much again and wanted to get back to check on her, but she had one more
errand. She stepped through the flap of the tent marked as Ichor's Aweigh.

Once again she was overwhelmed by a foul stench, but this one was different than that of
Fhet'Ahla's tent. It was a mix of tar and ash and sulfur and despair -- yes, she could smell the odor
of despair. It was the distinct aroma of demon's ichor, though concentrated to a point that it was
hard to breathe. She wondered how safe it was to inhale this miasma.

The tent was about three times as large on the inside than it was on the outside. At least a half
dozen tables were spread throughout the space, each covered in complex assemblies of glass and
stone and metal and stranger materials. The only light came from low flames burning under some
of the glassware, though that was enough light for her tiefling eyes. Other flasks were encased in
thin layers of ice. The air was filled with the sound of bubbles and sighs and low whistles.

A robed figure was bent over one of the assemblies. It turned as she entered. The hood was pulled
low and she saw only shadow inside it. The sleeves were folded and the hem brushed the ground so
she could see nothing of the figure inside. For all she knew, it was an animate piece of clothing like
the suits of armor in Firesnake Forge.

Pariah continued looking around the tent in fascination as she said, "Do you buy demon ichor
here?"
A deadpan voice that was little more than a raspy whisper said, "You must face me when you
speak."

Pariah turned to face the robed figure. "What?" she asked, unsure she'd heard him.

"You must face me when you speak," the voice from the robe repeated. She guessed it was male,
but that was about all she could tell.

"Do you buy demon ichor?" she asked the robe.

"Yes," the voice whispered. The hood nodded to an empty table near the center of the room. "Place
the ichor there."

Pariah felt goose bumps break out on her skin. There was something fundamentally alien about the
thing in front of her, even more than the fiends she had met. She reminded herself she was the last
one to judge someone for looking like a monster, and then she stepped forward. She drew the ten
metal flasks out of her satchel and laid them on the table. "This one's empty," she said, indicating
the one Lythienne had dumped into the engine.

A sleeve reached out towards one of the flasks. A nest of writhing, gray tentacles reached out of
the sleeve and Pariah unconsciously took a step backwards. The half-dozen tentacles wrapped
around a flask and raised it in front of the hood. Pariah peered into the shadows underneath the
hood and thought she caught the hint of a face, the flame behind her glinting off a pair of eyes.

One by one, the tentacles lifted each flask in front of the face as the mouth mumbled something she
couldn't hear. The flasks were sorted into two groups. The tentacles waved at the first group of
two. "Pure. Twenty-five Emporium chits apiece," the voice hissed. The tentacles waved toward the
second group of seven. "Contaminated. Will require further filtration to be usable. Five Emporium
chits apiece. Eighty-five chits for all of it."

Pariah wondered how the figure had been able to tell that through the metal of the flask. She
swallowed nervously and said, "I also need more empty flasks."

"I will include new flasks for no additional charge," the voice scratched.

"Deal," she said.

Another nest of squirming tentacles came out of the other sleeve. The tangled mess of snaking
appendages swept up the ten flasks and the robe carried them towards a workstation at the back of
the tent. After setting down the flasks, it opened a crate. It returned with empty flasks that were
carefully laid on the table. As the robe moved away, Pariah started stowing the flasks in her
satchel.

The robe went to a small but sturdy chest. The tentacles fished a key out of the robe, she heard a
lock click, and then the click of stone on stone as it counted out her payment. The chest was
closed, locked, and the key returned to the depths of the robe. The figure moved back to the empty
table. In a disturbing yet impressive display of dexterity, the mass of tentacles counted out her
payment into eight neat piles of ten chits each and a ninth pile half as high.

"Thank you," she said nervously. The figure bowed its head slightly as she scooped the chits into
her satchel.

"Will there be anything else?" the sibilant voice asked. "I offer a number of powerful alchemical
remedies of my own design, unlike anything you can find in Avernus."
"Maybe next time," Pariah said, backing away. "I'll come back," she lied. She stopped as she
remembered a question. She wanted out of the tent, but steeled her courage. "I got attacked by
some kind of shadows when gathering the ichor. Is that common?"

The hood studied her silently and then said, "Shadow demons. They are rare, but they do
occasionally inhabit large pools of ichor. Other things do as well. Smaller pools are safer but less
likely to yield high quality ichor."

"I see," she said. "Thanks." She hurried out of the tent. With her errands done, she headed to the
Bed of Bones.

She was pleased to see Lythienne was sitting with the others. Pariah had been in such a hurry to get
here from Ichor's Aweigh that she hadn't noticed that Farima and Lulu hadn't been in front of the
Infernal Rapture, and were instead sitting at the table with the others. Lythienne smiled at Pariah as
she walked in, and the elven woman's overall energy was much brighter than before.

"You survived," Pariah said as she pulled an empty chair from another table to join them.

Lythienne laughed. "I appreciate that you were all worried, but I'm fine. Mahadi did keep
suggesting other services to me, but I was diligent about asking the additional cost, and everything
had an additional cost. Before I left, he destroyed the contract I signed in front of me."

Pariah was still suspicious, but said, "I'm glad. So was it worth it?"

"Absolutely," she sighed. "The masseuse was exceptionally talented and the oils they used calmed
my mind and pulled the aches from my body." She stretched. "I have genuinely not felt this good
since we left Candlekeep."

Pariah's suspicions grew. Could the oils have been enchanted? She hesitated, wondering if this was
the right time, but she wanted to be sure that Lythienne's mind was clear. "And Evaelisar? How do
you feel about him?"

Lythienne's joy faded. Sadness came into her eyes along with a hint of puzzlement. "That seems
like a strange and cruel question," she said with an edge to her voice.

Pariah felt terrible now. She reached out to pat Lythienne's hand. "I'm sorry. That was rude. I just
wanted to be sure you weren't under some kind of charm that erased all your memories or
something. That they hadn't added a little River Styx water to those oils."

Lythienne tightened the corners of her mouth, but then her face softened. "Well, I suppose that's
fair considering where we are. And yes, I am still torn up over his fate, but I feel..." She searched
for the words. "I feel a more appropriate level of grief now. What's important is that the
accumulated stress of being in this place has been expunged. I am more balanced."

"Good," Pariah said, though she vowed to keep an eye on Lythienne just in case.

Lythienne looked thoughtful. "I would recommend the treatment, but you have to stay on your
guard. Something as innocent as a plate of snacks or combing one's hair carries a cost, and the costs
mount quickly."

Pariah shrugged and said lightly, "Well, I'm banned."

"The experience is not for me, I think," Farima said stiffly.

"Yeah, me too," Rowan agreed. She squeezed Lythienne's hand. "But I'm glad you got some relief.
You needed it the most of any of us."

Shyntraen showed up with a plate of food for Lythienne and they settled into general conversation
about nothing much. Pariah asked Lulu, "Have you remembered anything else about Mahadi?"

"No," she said in disappointment. "He seems nice and I think I like him. But then I think about that
contract and maybe I'm not supposed to like him. I sort of remember this place and some of the
people, like Burney. Others don't seem familiar. Like him," she nodded at Ragrom.

Pariah said, "Do you remember the weird guy who runs Ichor's Aweigh?"

Lulu cocked her head pensively. "I remember something creepy about that place. I don't think I
liked him."

"He was pretty different," Pariah agreed. "He was all covered up and I couldn't see anything, but he
had a bunch of tentacles instead of hands."

"Ew," she said.

"I don't want to judge a guy for looking weird. I mean..." She motioned to her own face.

Lulu giggled. "You don't look that weird. Not as weird as some guy with octopus hands."

Pariah laughed back, "And he gave off a pretty bad feeling. Not as bad as Mad Maggie, I guess. Do
you remember anybody else?"

"No," Lulu said thoughtfully. "Though I did remember..." She trailed off.

"What?" Pariah prompted.

"Well, it's not about this place. It's just that when I saw the portal that led to the Infernal Rapture, it
made me remember Yael and the battle outside Idyllglen. I remember seeing Yeenoghu take her
through the portal. I remember how mad I was and how sad I was and how we ran in after her, but
then everything went wrong. And I thought that...that maybe if we hadn't gone after her, Zariel
would still be with me. And I know that's not something I should think but I do. I mean I liked
Yael, but we didn't save her. Everyone died for nothing. Zariel changed for nothing."

Pariah patted her on the back. "You didn't know that. You were trying to save your friend. It's easy
to look back and see the mistakes, but at the time you just have to do the best you can."

Lulu shrugged. "Yeah, I know. It just makes me sad."

Pariah looked around the tent. It was the same crowd as earlier: the gamblers, the large fiend
writing in a book, the drow washing dishes in the kitchen, and the duergar glowering from behind
the bar but giving everyone his forced smile. After a bit, the three salamanders from the forge
came in. Pariah didn't hear what they ordered from Shyntraen and decided she was probably glad
she hadn't.

Lythienne finished her meal and then went to the bar to talk to Ragrom. After a brief conversation,
she went out to the war machine to fetch her dulcimer. She set up on the small stage in one corner
of the tent and started to play, but the music was discordant and unpleasant like it had been before.
She apologized to the room as she put the instrument to the side. She transitioned to entertaining
the crowd with illusions, stories and acrobatic displays.

Pariah hadn't seen her play to an audience before and her energy was different than when she was
entertaining their own group with songs or stories. Lythienne engaged everyone in the room,
drawing their attention to her. The atmosphere she created was never quite able to chase away the
constant tension and unease that permeated the plane, but she was able to create a comforting
pocket of "less awful" in the tent.

She was glowing by the time she was done, even more content than she had been after leaving the
Infernal Rapture. She thanked the audience, gathered up the few chits that had been thrown on the
stage, and returned to the table after calling out to the duergar a request for water and wine.

"That was delightful," she said breathlessly. "It has been too long since I have been able to
perform."

The night wore on and the pleasant feeling faded quickly. The heat, the flies, the bad tasting ale,
and the general sense of doom about their situation made their presences known again, at least to
Pariah. They continued to wear their masks of pleasant smiles, and they pretended like nothing was
wrong. And, to be fair, this was a nicer place than Fort Knucklebone had been, yet she couldn't
shake loose her knowledge of their situation.

Pariah also spent some time in her studies, as she had been during free moments throughout their
trip. She stumbled through simple Elvish conversations with Lythienne, and slowly wrote out
Common words under Farima's guidance. Focusing on learning new skills gave her the illusion she
had a future other than eternity in the Nine Hells.

She felt Lythienne's hand on her shoulder. The elven woman leaned in and said softly, "Walk with
me."

Lythienne stood, and Pariah shrugged at her and gained her feet as well. They exited the tent.
Pariah was jarred as they walked outside. Her internal clock said it should be evening, but the red
Avernian sky was exactly as bright as it always was. She wondered how long before she got used to
the lack of a day/night cycle, and hoped she'd find some way to be gone before that happened.

She followed Lythienne over to the war machine. The salamanders would probably come get it
once they were done with their meal so they could start the repairs. Or possibly they would sleep
first. Lythienne went around back and leaned against the frame next to the wrecking ball. Pariah
followed her and did the same.

The two of them stared silently out over the bleak landscape. Pariah was about to prompt
Lythienne when the other woman spoke. Distantly she said, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to
answer some questions. I understand if the situation is too personal, and I will not be offended if it's
something you don't want to talk about."

Pariah turned to look at Lythienne to see she was still looking out at nothing. Pariah shrugged. "I'm
not sure I have much in the way of secrets from you guys anymore. What do you want to know?"

Lythienne nodded absently. "I was wondering how you feel about your arrangement with
Levistus." She turned to look into Pariah's eyes. "Do you regret your choice? Saving your friends,
considering the cost?"

Pariah hesitated. The price of saving her friends had been the soul of an evil man, but she knew
that wasn't what Lythienne was asking. "I think it's complicated. I saved my friends but I've also
done a lot of other good since then. I don't think I could have done as much without this power."
She heard the tortured cry of some animal in the distance and turned to survey the wasteland for
dangers. "But the price is pretty high, higher than I imagined. Higher than I can still imagine. I
guess I'm not really sure."
 She was puzzled by this line of questioning, until a disturbing thought came to her. She turned back
to Lythienne and asked suspiciously, "Why do you ask?"

Lythienne returned her gaze, her happiness fading as pain filled her eyes. "Because Mahadi has
offered to arrange the release of my brother's soul." She gave Pariah a sad smile and added softly,
"For a price."

Chapter End Notes

The module says Fhet'Ahla will give only 100 gp per soul coin, but I'm using the
remix's value of 500 gp, where a gp and an Emporium chit have the same value. Again
per the remix, a soul coin is actually worth 1000 chits but 500 is the price you can sell
them for. And a spent soul coin is basically a platinum piece, or 10 chits.

My rule is that chits have different values based on who minted them. Knucklebone
chits issued by Mad Maggie are worth full value in the fort, but half value everywhere
else -- and that's high because Mad Maggie is a respected figure. Emporium chits are
full value everywhere because Mahadi is even more respected. In other words,
Emporium chits are gold pieces, Knucklebone chits are electrum, most warlord chits
are silver, and Raggadragga chits are copper -- until everyone finds out he's dead, and
then they are just worthless pieces of rock.

I never thought about the sending spell before. Rowan would have it and it would be a
way to contact Sylvira or someone like that. However, I decided that communications
out of Avernus are blocked by Zariel as part of the war effort -- mostly because I don't
want to worry about messing with sending spells. I had thought about allowing
Fhet'Ahla to have special permission to use the spell, but I couldn't think of any story-
relevant purpose for them to contact anyone.

I cut the cost of repairing war machines by a factor of 10, because 50 gp/hit point is
utterly outrageous. Their Demon Grinder has 200 HP, so a full repair from 0 would be
10k gp or 20 soul coins! A person with Dexterity 10 and no repair proficiency can just
hit random spots with a hammer and repair 3.3 HP per hour, so why would anyone pay
for repairs? There are so many spots in this module where it feels like nobody did any
basic math.
 A Bad Deal
Chapter Summary

As evening nears on their first day in the Wandering Emporium, Lythienne has
revealed she is considering a shocking transaction.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah's stomach dropped and the world twisted around her as she stared at Lythienne. She wanted
to grab the other woman, scream in her face, demand she refuse, call her an idiot for even
considering it, but she knew that wasn't the way to handle this. She struggled to think of what to
say, but before she could form the words, Lythienne continued speaking.

"It's not forever," she said. "Only a thousand years. That may seem like a long time to you, but it's
not so long for my people. I've lived a quarter of that already. Permanent freedom for him in return
for my temporary service."

Thought swirled in Pariah's head as she turned away to stare at the ground. There were so many
things she wanted to say, yet she was afraid that if she said the wrong thing it would just drive
Lythienne into a decision she'd regret. That fear paralyzed her, making her unable to speak. Her
panic grew as she worried that even her silence might make things worse.

Lythienne's tone grew emotional. "I can't stand the thought of him suffering like that, especially
for something that shouldn't have been a sin, for nothing more than Zariel's tantrum." Her voice
rose as she said, "It's not fair!"

"I know," Pariah forced out, feeling like she had to say something. "That doesn't mean this is the
answer." She rubbed her face. "Just give me a moment. This is a lot."

Lythienne remained silent while Pariah gathered her thoughts. She was talking about it. That was
important. She hadn't just gone ahead and signed the contract. She knew it was a mistake. Her
emotions were walling her in and she wanted to find a way out. At least, that's what Pariah wanted
to believe.

She thought back to what she'd read about the devils, about contracts. She remembered the bakery
in Elturel, when she had talked to Lulu about Levistus. She couldn't remember how much of that
conversation Lythienne had heard before she had walked out. Pariah said, "It's not just service. It's
a thousand years that they can corrupt you. It's like your trip to the Infernal Rapture. The massage
got you in, but then it gave Mahadi a chance to tempt you with other things. This contract gives
whoever is behind this a chance to turn it into an eternal agreement."

"I don't care," said Lythienne in a low voice. Pariah turned to see she was staring at the ground as
well. Lythienne added, "If I suffer, it will be because of what I did, because of the choices I made
with open eyes. He'll be free, and that's what's important." She turned to Pariah. "You made this
choice to save the lives of people you loved. Their lives, not even their souls. You of all people
should understand." Anger started to creep into her voice.
"I do," Pariah said quickly. "Believe me, I do. But just because I understand doesn't mean I made
the right choice."

"You just said you didn't know if you did. And that's why I ask: do you regret it?"

Pariah's hand gripped the infernal iron of the war machine and squeezed it as she directed her
emotions into that action to keep her voice calm. "My decision is more complicated than that. It
wasn't just saving people. And I don't know if I regret it."

"But you are telling me not to do this," Lythienne said hotly.

"No," Pariah said, turning back to her. "I'm very carefully trying not to say that, because it's not my
decision. I believe in personal choice. That doesn't mean I want to stand by and watch you make a
mistake."

"Eternity vs. a thousand years. That sounds like a good deal."

Pariah shook her head. "It's never a good deal. They always get more out of it, no matter what we
think."

Lythienne's shoulders slumped. "I can't turn my back on him."

Pariah put an arm around her. "I know," she said. She cast about for some argument that would
change the other woman's mind. She hung onto one hope. Lythienne didn't need a reason to say
yes; she already had one. Pariah got the impression that she was looking for a reason to say no.

Pariah frowned as something occurred to her. It seemed like a bit of a low blow, but it was also
something that needed to be said now, before it was too late. "What would Evaelisar think about
this?"

Don't make me watch you die.

Lythienne looked stung by the question. Pariah pressed on. "Would he want to be freed for that
price? Would he be happy knowing that you were being punished in his place?"

Lythienne's eyes shone but she said nothing.

"Sometimes it's easier to suffer than to watch your loved ones in pain," Pariah said. "Let's at least
see if we can find some other way. See if we can save everyone in Elturel, the Hellriders included.
I imagine Mahadi's deal will still be available later."

Pariah didn't have any illusions about the situation. There was no way Evaelisar would be released
without the payment of another soul, one that the devils didn't already possess. She didn't see any
way they could help him, but for now she needed Lythienne to stay focused on Elturel.

Lythienne still seemed undecided. Pariah said, "Did Mahadi tell you who his boss is? Who's the
one you'd sign the contract with?"

The elven woman shook her head. "He said that would be in the contract but only after I agreed."

Pariah sighed. "You know what I wonder? Why did Levistus send us there? He said it worked out
as he expected. Maybe that was the point. Maybe Mahadi works for him as a spy in Avernus.
Maybe he sent us there just to give you a reason to sell your soul to him."

Lythienne's eyes widened. "You think so?"

Pariah shrugged. "It's the kind of thing he'd do." To be fair, she didn't know if Levistus had enough
power to free a soul condemned by Zariel in her own realm. Maybe she was wrong, but she was
trying to understand why he had sent them to Haruman.

Lythienne leaned against her, hopelessness on her face. "To quote a wise woman: 'Fucking
immortals'."

"Yeah," Pariah nodded.

"I guess it was a foolish thought," Lythienne admitted. "Short-sighted."

"That's what they count on. They find desperate people and give them what they want." She felt
more relaxed now that it sounded like Lythienne was moving away from the idea. "I'm glad you
asked me about it."

They sat in silence for a while, until Lythienne said, "I'd rather not share this with the others, all
right? I think you understand why."

Pariah had already decided to keep this to herself. It wasn't her secret to share. "I do. And I won't
tell anyone."

"We should get back inside before they start to wonder what happened to us."

They returned to the Bed of Bones and rejoined the others at the table. Rowan looked a question
over to Pariah, who just shrugged in response and then called over to Ragrom for another ale.

The group ran out of conversation and settled into a heavy silence. Rowan said, "Maybe we should
settle in for the night." She frowned. "I wonder if the no magic rule applies to prayer."

Pariah said, "It's just prayer. Why would he have a problem with that?"

Rowan hedged, "Well, there is more to it. I'm deliberately asking for Tymora's blessing and
protection." She turned towards the bar. "Hey, Ragrom. Does the no magic rule apply to divine
magic as well?"

The duergar's mouth twisted into his forced smile while his eyes bathed them with contempt. In a
derisive voice he said, "No magic. No exceptions. It's not hard to understand."

Rowan raised her eyebrows and said, "All right. Just asking." She turned to the group. "I'm going to
step outside the camp and do my usual nightly prayer session. As always, you're all welcome to
join me."

They all agreed. Pariah had found the prayer sessions helped her deal with the stress of traveling
Avernus. She didn't know if she was actually feeling Tymora's influence or if it was simply
comforting, but she always felt a bit better after them.

The group headed out of the tent and then walked about a hundred feet away from the Wandering
Emporium. "This should be far enough, I think," Rowan said and she took a seat on the packed
earth.

Pariah sat next to her. She felt like the air had become hotter as they had moved away from the
Emporium. She certainly seemed to be sweating more than she had a moment ago. There was also
a haze of smoke that made the air sting her lungs, though she didn't see a source.

They joined hands -- and hollyphant feet -- as they sat in a circle and closed their eyes. Rowan
prayed aloud to Tymora, asking for her protection. As she spoke, Pariah felt a calm spread through
her mind. It was a warm feeling, not the oppressive heat of the Avernian air, but the comforting
warmth of a hearth. It faded as Rowan's prayer came to an end, but Pariah found her thoughts were
calmer than before.

"Fuck!" she snapped as a wasp stung her neck. She slapped at it, the serene mood broken. She
opened her eyes and saw a couple more were buzzing around the group. The sting on her neck
started to burn.

Lythienne said, "We should probably get back to the Emporium." She was looking off to the side.
Pariah followed her gaze and saw a swarm of wasps drifting in their direction.

They stood and started walking quickly towards the Emporium. "Ow!" Rowan said, slapping at her
arm.

More wasps started to swarm around them, and Pariah felt another sting on her ankle. She heard
cries and curses from the others. They picked up their pace, running now, hoping to find shelter.
Pariah wasn't sure how much tents would stop wasps, but it was certainly better than standing out
in the open.

The swarm suddenly veered off as the group reached the edge of the Emporium. They ran a few
steps into the parking area, but the wasps were gone so the group stopped. Pariah could see the
swarm was now moving away.

She had been stung three times. The welts were painful, but she didn't feel the sickness of powerful
venom.

Rowan watched the swarm leave. Frustrated, she said, "I can't heal us inside the Emporium, but if
we step out we might get attacked again."

Farima said, "Burney offers healing services." Her brow furrowed. "I believe so at least. I cannot
remember specifically."

Pariah looked towards her tent. "Let's go find out," she suggested. They walked over and she was
pleased to see the woman standing by her barber chair as she had before. Pariah stepped into the
tent.

Pariah walked out of the tent. The pain from the stings was gone and she felt much better. Her pace
slowed as she became confused. She stopped and looked at the rest of the group. "What just
happened?" she asked.

Lythienne said, "What do you mean? We asked her to..." She faded off and frowned.

Rowan said, "She used some herbs that..." She trailed off as well.

There was a moment of confused silence, and then Farima said, "It is like before. I know I was
there, but I can remember no specifics. It is like I was in a fog."

Pariah couldn't even remember what Burney looked like. She looked back through the tent flap,
saw Burney standing there giving her a friendly smile. Pariah turned away, and again couldn't
remember what the woman looked like.

And yet she didn't have a feeling of danger. Her faded memory told her that the woman was a
friend, an ally, but could she trust her memory? This was obviously some kind of enchantment and
that worried her, but her mind also told her she didn't need to be worried.
She knew what had happened. They had gone in and asked about their stings. Burney had used
some kind of herbal concoction. Pariah reached up to touch the blister on her neck. She could feel
the greasy residue of the balm. It had taken the pain away and neutralized the minor toxin in the
wounds.

She knew that's what had happened, but she didn't remember it. "I'm worried about what she might
have done to us," she said as they started to head back to the Bed of Bones.

"It's OK," Lulu said with a giggle. "She's a friend."

Pariah looked at her, puzzled. "You know her?"

"No, but she's a friend. Trust me."

Pariah studied her. "Look, I get a good feeling from her, too, but that could be some kind of
enchantment. I don't know if we can trust her."

Lulu's voice grew frustrated. "You can trust her. I know that."

Farima asked, "Why?"

Lulu said, "Because I do remember what happened. But I can't tell you. But she's OK. She's a
friend."

Farima considered that for a while as they stopped near the Bed of Bones. "My dream did bring us
to her shop. Is she a celestial?"

"No," Lulu said. "Look, I can't tell you. But it's fine. She's fine." With some desperation, she said,
"Can't you just trust me?"

Farima pursed her lips but then said, "Very well. You have earned our trust, so I will take you at
your word." She turned to the others. "Agreed?"

Pariah and Rowan mumbled agreement. Lythienne looked less convinced but nodded.

Pariah said, "I'm starting to get tired. Should we pitch our tent somewhere?"

There was an open area between the Bed of Bones tent and the wall of war machines, which is
where guests were expected to camp. There were two tents there already. Ragrom had assured
them that his tents were secure. Nobody could get inside without an invitation from the person
who activated the tent. Pariah wasn't sure she trusted his word, though.

They chose a spot away from the other two tents. Pariah read aloud the word inscribed on the
bundle of cloth and threw it to the ground. It expanded instantly into a tall but narrow tent of blue-
green cloth that looked like linen. The cloth was inlaid with silver thread woven into a complex
pattern. The tent was taller than she was but wasn't much wider than the spread of her arms. "We
might have to take turns sleeping," she said in annoyance. "Or buy another one." He had assured
them it would fit all of them but they'd be lucky to fit two.

She poked her head inside the tent flap and stopped. "Never mind," she said over her shoulder. "It's
bigger on the inside."

Pariah entered. The height was about the same, but the interior of the tent was at least thirty feet
across. The floor was some kind of padded canvas that would probably be comfortable to sleep on
directly. The air inside was still a little warm for her taste, but cooler than the outside. There was a
raised brazier in the middle, unlit at the moment. She glanced up and saw a screened opening in the
peaked top for the smoke.

"I can't get in," said Rowan. She was standing just outside the open flap. She was pushing at the air
in front of her but her hand wasn't penetrating.

Pariah remembered what Ragrom had told her. "Rowan, come in," she said.

Rowan stumbled as the resistance in front of her disappeared. She came inside and looked around.
"This is pretty nice," she said.

Pariah invited each of the others in. "Well," she said slowly, "I guess he wasn't lying about the tent
being protected."

Farima nodded. "That protection plus the prohibition on fighting and stealing will make it easier to
rest. I do not think we need to stand watch."

Pariah mulled that over. It was better to be safe, but they were all getting pretty tired. In addition,
Ragrom had told her the tent lasted only the span of one sleep, so taking watches would mean some
of them wouldn't get a full rest. "I guess so," she agreed reluctantly.

"I can watch," Lulu offered enthusiastically.

"That would be very helpful," Farima told her. Pariah wasn't convinced Lulu's attention span made
her good for sentry duty, but she was hopeful that they would be safe in the tent.

Pariah slowly came out of sleep. She heard whispering and saw Lythienne, Lulu and Farima
talking to each other on the other side of the tent. Pariah sat up and stretched. "Morning," she said.

"Good morning," replied Lythienne softly. "Did you sleep better?"

Pariah nodded. Her voice low, she said, "I still had nightmares, but they were kind of far away."

Lulu said loudly, "You didn't toss and turn so much, so I guess you slept better."

The others shushed her, but Rowan, her eyes still closed, said, "You don't have to whisper. I'm
awake. I'm currently debating the choice between a bad breakfast and going hungry."

Pariah chuckled and then yawned. She looked around, "Nobody stabbed us in the night, so that's
good."

"Or stole our souls," said Lythienne.

Pariah didn't really feel all that rested, but her sleep had been better than the last couple of nights.
"I guess we should go try a bad breakfast and then see if the war machine is ready."

They gathered up their things and headed out. As soon as Pariah left the tent, it collapsed into a
bundle of cloth on the ground. Ragrom had told her to bring it back. He recharged them after each
use.

She looked around and nothing in the Emporium was different. Well, that wasn't true. There were
two more war machines in the parking area, both smaller than theirs. She was surprised the noise
of them arriving hadn't woken her up. She also noticed their war machine was gone. She frowned,
but hoped that meant the salamanders were working on it. The alternative was that someone had
violated Mahadi's rules and stolen it. "You guys go ahead," she said. She handed the bundle of
cloth to Farima, who happened to be standing nearest to her. "Give that to Ragrom. Order me
whatever for breakfast. I think I'm going to check on the war machine first."

Pariah hurried to the smithy and was relieved to see their war machine was there, partially
disassembled and being worked on by a salamander, two lava creatures, and two suits of animated
armor. She stepped into the smithy and, even though it was open to the air, the heat went up
noticeably once she was under the awning.

She walked up to the flaming orange snake-like salamander. When he saw her, he straightened up
from his work and gave her a curt nod. She stood a distance away, the heat from his body radiating
against her skin. "How's it coming?" she called out.

He growled, "Most of the damaged armor's been replaced. Couple of mounting bolts had been
sheared. Replaced those. Replaced the chain on the wrecking ball. Reforging one of the gears that
had a hairline crack. That'll take a bit, but should be done soon."

"Today?" she asked, wondering if that word even meant anything in an environment with no clear
day/night cycle.

Apparently it did, because he said, "Yeah. Three or four hours."

"Great. I'll come back and check on it later."

He grunted and returned to his work.

Pariah started to leave and then something occurred to her. She asked, "Say, do you work with
leather at all? I saw some armor pieces over there." She was thinking about a glove to protect
Rowan's mechanical hand from debris.

The salamander didn't look up, just shook his head with an annoyed snort. Disappointed, she left
the smithy to the less hot air outside.

Pariah headed back to the Bed of Bones to join the others. Three hobgoblins were lounging at one
of the other tables, though they weren't watching her group with any particular interest. Mostly they
just seemed bored.

"War machine should be ready later today," she told the others. "So are we headed for that Morty
guy?"

"Mordenkainen," Farima said.

"Yeah, him."

Farima said, "I suppose that is going to be our best option." Nobody had any argument. Rowan's
divination the day before had implied that good fortune lay along that path.

Lythienne drummed her fingers on the table. "Do we maybe want to stay another day or two?
We've had a bad few days and this seems like an adequate place to rest."

Pariah had a number of objections to that, not the least of which was Lythienne's proximity to the
temptation of a contract. She settled for saying, "Every day is one less day for Elturel."

Lythienne looked disappointed. "Yes, I suppose that's true. It was nice having a stage, and I would
have liked to perform some more." Quickly she added, "But of course, the fate of Elturel is more
important."
Lulu said, "And we have to find Zariel soon!"

Pariah winced, not wanting to broadcast their business to the entire tent, but at least the hollyphant
had kept her voice reasonably low. She didn't see any reason to argue the point with Lulu, so
instead she said to Lythienne, "He said it would be a few hours so you could still do a performance
after breakfast."

Lythienne nodded thoughtfully. "That might be a good idea. I shall have to think about what I want
to do."

It wasn't that long before the food arrived. She looked down at her plate of...eggs? and possibly
potatoes? along with another piece of singed and moldy flatbread, washed down with burnt and
bitter coffee.

Lythienne did perform, using her illusion magic to depict an exciting story that Pariah realized was
loosely based on their descent into the sewers below the bathhouse. The hobgoblins jeered and
booed but she wasn't phased by that at all, and even they laughed when the wet, naked gnome
woman came charging out of the bath to rescue the adventurers.

One of the small lava creatures came by to grunt at them and point towards the smithy. Pariah took
that to mean their machine was ready and went back to the smithy to settle the bill. They all
gathered at their vehicle and Lythienne said, without much hope in her voice, "We've lost half the
day. Should we start tomorrow?"

Rowan said, "I think we shouldn't dawdle too much."

Lythienne sighed in disappointment but said nothing.

Pariah pursed her lips as she stared at the rod on the top of the fuel tank. "There is the problem of
fuel," she said. "Farima, are you feeling any better."

Farima hesitated. "I am still somewhat tired and my muscles ache, but I believe I feel better today
than I did yesterday." Her voice was not confident.

Pariah wasn't looking forward to this, but she felt that she should at least try it. She stepped up to
the fuel tank. "I guess I'll take it for today."

Lythienne asked, "Are you sure?"

Pariah kept staring at the metal rod. "No, but I'm going to do it anyhow." She tentatively reached
out and grabbed the rod with one hand.

She expected the pain to start in her hand, like grabbing a hot poker, but instead it blossomed in her
chest. It was like an explosion of needles from her heart, racing through her veins towards her
fingers. She felt her energy racing along that path and pouring into the tank. This was her life. She
knew that. Her very life was gushing out of her hand and into this tank. The pain grew more
intense and she gritted her teeth against the scream she felt building in her throat.

She wanted to look at the gauge but she couldn't even see now. Her vision was covered in a
blinding red haze. She couldn't hear anything other than the shrieking of the energy being pulled
from her body, or could that be her own voice? She wasn't sure if she was standing or if she'd
fallen. All of her senses had been replaced by a single perception: the burning agony coursing
through her.

And then it stopped.

 She was lying on the deck of the war machine. Well, not quite lying on it. She was sitting back
against someone. A voice in her ear said, "Tymora, please relieve Pariah's pain." She felt the prayer
wash over her but the ache in her bones didn't subside at all.

Slowly the world swam into sharper focus. Farima and Lythienne were crouched in front of her,
Lulu standing between them, all watching her with worried eyes.

Pariah forced a weak smile. "See?" she said in a shaking voice. "Easy."

Not wanting the others to worry, she forced herself to her feet, suppressing a groan as her muscles
cried out. It was like the ache after a severe workout, only about a thousand times worse. She
swayed a bit as the world tilted but then got her balance. She looked at the gauge on the tank and
cursed mentally. One-third full, just like when Farima had done it. One day of travel.

"Shall we go?" she said. She started to walk towards the helm, but Lythienne moved in front of her.

"I'll drive," the elven woman said firmly. "You rest."

"If you insist," Pariah said in relief. Rowan helped her to a seat in the back while Farima took
station at one of the harpoons. Lythienne started the engine with a roar and then slowly navigated
the machine out the front entrance and into the Avernian wilderness.

Chapter End Notes

I had considered doing some other things at the Emporium, but I didn't want this to
turn into another Candlekeep or Fort Knucklebone where they spend chapter after
chapter doing character development. I kind of rushed it at the end because I wanted to
get them on their way by the end of the chapter. I'm not unhappy with the overall
pacing so far, but we need to get moving.

I was going to write a conversation where they offer to take Shyntraen with them, but
he refuses. He's under a geas spell so can't leave. However, I realized I forgot to do
that and decided not to spend the time to go back and crowbar that in.

I thought about the concept of "hours" and "days" in Avernus and decided I just don't
care. Arguably those words wouldn't mean anything, but they must have some way of
keeping time in the Hells. I didn't feel like coming up with some weird method of
timekeeping, so we'll just use those silly mortal words and assume everyone
understands.
 A Lakeside Drive
Chapter Summary

The party has left the Wandering Emporium on their way to meet the mysterious
wizard, Mordenkainen.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah swayed as the vehicle hit a bump, wincing as the pain in her muscles flared. She grabbed
the harpoon gun to steady herself and managed to keep her feet. She looked down to see Rowan,
who was seated behind the helm, looking up at her in worry. Pariah forced a smile and went back
to surveying the bleak landscape.

The ache in her muscles was less but not by much. It was hard to keep standing, but she was bored
just sitting around. Rowan was needed down there so she could help Lythienne navigate this
trackless part of Avernus, so Pariah had come up to stand watch.

Farima had shown Rowan their intended route on the map. Burney had apparently told her how to
get to Mordenkainen's lair, called the Tower of Urm by the locals. It wasn't always there, though.
Mordenkainen used it as some kind of interdimensional vehicle, hopping from plane to plane and
taking his huge iron tower with him. If he wasn't there, the plan was to camp out at the base until
he showed up.

The tower was on an island in a lake that showed up as a red blotch on the map. As they descended
out of the hills, the lake was visible on the horizon and Pariah realized the scarlet hue had not been
artistic license. The body of water that stretched before them was filled with something dark red
with a few streaks of green -- not the healthy green of trees and grass, but the sickly brownish
green of decay.

The lake's surface was not steady. It roiled and bubbled like a pot on the stove. She could see
nothing like boats or islands on the surface of the lake, at least the part of the lake that was visible,
but she could see some kind of movement at the shore like flocks of birds. A haze of smoke had
hung in the air most of the day, so it was hard to see any detail.

And then there was the smell. With no wind it was hard to tell where the odor was coming from,
but the whiff of iron and rot in the air was growing as they neared the body of not-quite-water.

The plan was to drive to the lake and then follow its shore to a bridge that led to the island. It
seemed like an easy enough route, though Pariah doubted it would be that straightforward.

"I can see flocks of flying things along the shore," came Rowan's voice over the earring. Pariah
looked down and saw that Rowan had donned her goggles and was staring towards the lake. "I'm
guessing stirges, though I can't make out details."

Pariah said, "Stirges or worse. We should probably stay away from them. Turn and follow the
shore from this distance until we find the bridge."
The war machine slowed slightly and started to turn a wide arc until it was driving parallel along
the shore, still a mile or two distant. Pariah said, "Lythienne, you want me to take over driving for
a while?"

"I'm fine," Lythienne assured her. "I'll let you know."

Pariah knew that Lythienne was giving her a break after her encounter with fueling the machine
and it irritated her slightly. She appreciated the compassion, but they all needed to carry their
weight and she felt like she wasn't doing that at the moment. Farima still refused to drive. Rowan
was the only one who didn't mind looking at the map so was needed for navigation. Lulu couldn't
drive. That meant she and Lythienne were the only two who could operate the machine, and they
should be trading off so neither got exhausted.

She drained the last of her waterskin, trying to wash the dust and smoke out of her throat. The
strange smell from the lake made the water taste even worse than normal but she choked it down.
She made a disgusted sound as she lowered the skin and shoved it back in her pack.

She heard the pop of magic and whirled to face it, her sword reflexively appearing in her hand.
Farima fired again, two streaks of magical energy knocking flying shapes out of the air. A flock of
stirges flew close, investigating this moving object carrying flesh bags full of tasty blood. Pariah
and Rowan joined in the effort to zap any stirge who flew too close. Lythienne nudged up their
speed and they were able to outrun the bloodsuckers, but more swarms moved to intercept them
ahead.

There weren't all that many, and Pariah never felt threatened by their presence, but they were
frequent enough that it took constant vigilance. Eventually the flocks thinned out. Either they had
gotten the message that the travelers weren't easy prey, or maybe the vehicle was simply reaching
the end of the flock that swarmed along the edge of the lake. Pariah was just starting to relax when
Lythienne said, "Trouble ahead."

"Talona's tits," Pariah mumbled to herself as she turned to survey their path forward.

The land ahead was dotted with shapes, thinly scattered at the near edge but getting thicker further
along. The hills to their left curved around in front of them, leaving a narrow gap between the lake
and a slope that looked too steep for the vehicle. Within that gap was a dense collection of those
figures.

"What are they?" she asked nobody in particular.

Rowan was studying them through her goggles. "They are enormously obese humanoids
surrounded by clouds of smoke."

They had been talking through their earrings since the roar of the engine made normal conversation
difficult. Lulu, yelling to be heard, said, "Nupperibos. Weak devils formed from souls guilty of
gluttony or sloth."

"Weak, maybe," Rowan agreed. "But there are hundreds of them."

Pariah scanned the surrounding hills. "I don't think we can go around them. We'd have to backtrack
or risk those steep slopes."

Lythienne said, "Well, this thing is built for running creatures over. I say we just push through."

"I agree," Lulu shouted gleefully. "Crush the evil forces beneath the wheels of justice."
Pariah was troubled the idea. Like any devils, these things were dangerous. She had read a little
about them and knew they were all but mindless, so it wasn't like the group could talk their way
through. However, killing an enemy in battle was one thing. The idea of slaughtering creatures,
even devils, by the dozens made her hesitate.

Unfortunately, she didn't see another choice.

"I guess so," she admitted grudgingly. Rowan and Farima said nothing, though both seemed as
conflicted as she felt. She added, "But don't go too fast. I don't want to wreck this thing while we
are in the middle of the herd. The rest of us will make sure they don't climb up the sides."

Lythienne had changed course towards the gap between the hills and the shore, which was
bringing them closer to the water. Well, "liquid" anyhow. They were getting close enough that
Pariah could see it wasn't water. The surface roiled and bubbled. The liquid was thick, much
thicker than water, and the deep red was marked with streaks of brownish green. Pariah wasn't sure
what the greenish material was, but between the red color, the smell, and the large number of
stirges feeding from it she was fairly certain what the red stuff was. This was a lake of boiling
blood.

She added, "We are going to end up riding right along the lake. Let's keep an eye out on that side. I
don't want to meet whatever lives in that."

As they got closer, Pariah got a better look at the creatures ahead. Rowan's description hadn't done
them justice. They were humanoid but only barely so. They were not merely obese. They were
grotesquely bloated to the point they could barely walk under the their own weight. They were
naked, though any sexual characteristics were hidden under rolls of fat that jiggled as they moved.
It took Pariah a moment to realize that the "clouds of smoke" Rowan had seen were actually thick
swarms of flies.

The herd of creatures turned towards the sound of the war machine as it approached, and they
started shuffling towards the sound. They staggered blindly, violently shoving each other aside as
they collided. Their mouths opened to reveal rotting teeth as they let out pained groans. "Here we
go," Lythienne called out as they reached the first of them.

She slowed down a little, but the grotesque, shambling figures didn't even try to get out of the way.
Their moans turned to screams as the spiked metal wheels chewed into them, throwing up a spray
of gore. The horrible smell of their viscera as well as the odor of their unwashed bodies competed
with the rank stench from the lake of blood, and Pariah felt herself becoming queasy.

Pariah focused her attention on the creatures to their right, blasting them with icy bolts as they tried
to climb aboard. Her attacks felt slightly more humane then shredding them under the wheels of the
machine. Farima worked to keep the left side of the vehicle clear, and Rowan had moved to the
front to attack those directly before them.

"Behind us!" Lulu shouted. She then said a word Pariah didn't understand, which was followed by
the pop of magic. Pariah turned to see a line of stirges approaching. She didn't know if they had
been attracted by the trail of gore being left by the machine or if they just happened to be hunting
in this direction, but it didn't matter.

Farima called out, "Lulu and I shall handle the stirges. The rest of you focus on the beasts in front."
Twin beams of energy shot from her staff, blasting two of the flying pests out of the air.

Pariah turned back to see one of the nupperibos had nearly climbed aboard just below Farima's
station. "Talona's tits," she grated as she blasted it with cold energy, knocking it back into a sea of
its compatriots. One advantage, she noticed, is that many of them stopped to feed on the bodies of
the dead, shoving body parts into mouths that gaped wide. A few were lying on the ground, licking
up the gore the war machine had left in its wake.

That left only a hundred or so, she thought sourly to herself.

As the nupperibo herd grew thicker, so did the swarms of flies around them. Soon, Pariah was
slapping at the bugs as they found exposed skin to bite. It was distracting, but she kept her focus on
sending rays of frost towards the nupperibos that tried to climb aboard.

She wasn't sure why the movement caught her eye, but she whirled to her right to see four massive
wasps rising from behind the crest of the hill. She hesitated as her mind tried to make sense of the
size of them. Each of them was larger than a human. They were colored glistening black and blood
red, and held aloft by a blur of wings. A stinger at least an inch in diameter curved under their
bodies, and their legs ended in talons that looked like scythe blades.

"Giant wasps on our right," she warned as she summoned the icy sheen around her armor. "Any
chance you can go faster?"

Lythienne called back, "All this blood is making the ground slick. Plus I think their bodies are
fouling the mechanism underneath. This is as fast as I can go."

The war machine bucked as it hit something. Pariah steadied herself against the sudden movement
as the war machine slowed even further, allowing more nupperibos to clamber aboard.

Rowan called out, "Lady Tymora, shield us all with the radiance of your good fortune." A storm of
light started to whirl around her. It was like the aura she had called up in the High Cemetery, but
rather than a glow of holy radiance, it was an aura that made Pariah think of the light gleaming off
piles of gold coins.

Pariah's sword was in her hand already. The giant wasps surged forward faster than the war
machine could go. Lulu flew out in front of her and sent out a trumpet of sparkles that Pariah could
barely hear above the roar of the engines and the moaning of the growing crowd of obese
humanoids that clawed at their vehicle. The cone of light caught two of the wasps on Pariah's right
but it didn't slow them down.

Lulu tried to fly back to them but the first wasp managed to open a gash in her back with one of its
sword-like talons. It chased her as she fled towards the war machine, and the other came right for
Pariah. She was vaguely aware of the last two headed towards Lythienne and Rowan, but her focus
was on the one coming for her.

As the massive wasp grew close, its size overwhelmed her. She froze for a split second in fear, and
that was long enough to make her vulnerable. It arched forward, stabbing with a sting that dripped
with poison. Pariah tried to bring up her shield arm to block it, but the angle was wrong. The ice
sheet appeared on her forearm but the stinger just slid along it and plunged into her bicep.

Pain lanced into her arm and quickly spread through her body. She felt her muscles locking up as
she tried to bring her sword to bear. The ice from her armor spread up the sting and across its body,
and the armored chitin split and shattered as the frost touched it. Pariah longed to plunge her blade
into the exposed flesh but her body wasn't moving.

She started to fall, and then the wasp enveloped her with its legs. She braced herself for the pain of
the talon edges slicing into her, but it gathered her up almost gently and began to lift her off the
ground.
"Shtsawtzak weakh," came Lythienne's voice from her left, the Infernal words thick with her elven
accent as she activated the circlet she had gotten from Raggadragga's body. Three beams of heat
shot into Pariah's view. Two of them struck the wasp on its side but they bounced off without
effect.

She heard the shriek she knew was one of Farima's spells, but she couldn't even move her eyes to
look to the side and see. As the wasp lifted her, she felt a hand slap her shoulder and heard Rowan
say, "Lady Tymora, please cleanse her body of this poison."

The pain still burned in Pariah's muscles, but it lessened and she could move. She wasn't at an
angle to plunge her sword in, but she hammered the wasp's abdomen with the rapier's guard.
Surprised by either the sudden movement or the pain, the wasp's grip loosened and Pariah slipped
out of its talons, falling a few feet to the metal deck.

Her muscles were still weak and she fell to one knee. She looked up to see the wasp rushing
towards her again, but then Lulu appeared in front of it. The hollyphant shouted a word and a bolt
of golden energy shot from her trunk and into the wasp's midsection. It pierced the cracked chitin
and blew through the other side. The wasp's wings stopped beating and it fell. Pariah threw herself
back to avoid the wasp's body as it struck the railing of the harpoon station and then fell off the
side. As the war machine surged on, Pariah looked behind them to see the nupperibos descend on
the corpse. They tore into it, shoving dripping pieces of wasp flesh into their gaping maws.

Instinctively, Pariah threw up her sword in defense as she detected movement, just managing to
deflect the sting of another wasp, but a talon raked across the armor at her shoulder and she felt her
old injury ache in response.

"Lythienne," Rowan shouted. Pariah regained her feet and shifted her position so that she could
fend off the wasp but also see the front of the war machine. Lythienne was held in the embrace of
another wasp, her body stiff. Rowan's hand was out trying to reach her to pray away the paralysis,
but the wasp was already too high. Rowan angrily brought down a fist, and a radiant flame speared
down from the sky and slammed into the wasp. With a gesture of the other hand, a swarm of coins
started to chase it as it carried their companion away. Meanwhile the war machine, now driverless,
continued to grind forward over the bodies of the nupperibos.

Lulu chased after the wasp that carried Lythienne, but another wasp moved to block her. It was
already badly injured, so when Lulu shot a bolt at it, it fell into the crowd of nupperibos. Farima
sprayed a brace of magical bolts that slammed into the wasp carrying Lythienne, sending chunks of
chitin flying as the giant wasp continued to limp away. Lythienne had started to move, but was
unable to break the grapple.

Pariah tried to shoot a freezing ray towards it, but that took her attention away from the wasp she
was engaged with. She dodged away but its sting slammed into her chest. Luckily, it didn't
penetrate so she wasn't poisoned again. She reflexively sent a storm of frigid air swirling around it,
and again the bitter cold caused its exoskeleton to crack. This one died as well. Pariah didn't feel
the surge of dark energy when it did, but she knew that happened only when she killed with her
rapier.

The war machine bucked as it hit something else. Pariah turned to see Rowan had taken the wheel
and was turning to give chase to the last wasp. Another swarm of bolts shot from Farima's staff,
and this barrage managed to kill the giant insect. It fell to the ground with Lythienne still in its
grasp, and a horde of bloated devils closed in around them.

Pale, bat-like wings grew from Pariah's back as she leapt from the harpoon platform. She raced
over the heads of the nupperibos, which ignored her as they surged towards Lythienne. The elven
 woman had regained her feet and was dodging the slow creatures around her, but even Pariah could
see her movements were more sluggish than normal. The poison still burned her own muscles and
she imagined the other woman felt the same. Pariah was surprised when Lythienne let out a
thunderous shout that smashed through the crowd, felling a half dozen of the obese devils, but
others climbed over the bodies to reach her.

Their eyes met as Pariah approached. They reached out for each other. Pariah slowed down and
grabbed Lythienne's hands, but the nupperibos grabbed at her legs and the swarms of flies bit her
arms and face. She cried out in effort as her wings labored to lift both of them off the ground,
which let the flies enter her mouth and bite her cheeks and tongue. She looked down and saw one
of the nupperibos was clinging to Lythienne's legs and Pariah didn't have the strength to lift
something that massive. Lythienne kicked down and managed to knock it off, and Pariah struggled
to gain altitude and to spit the flies from her mouth.

She turned back towards the vehicle, which was almost upon them but struggling against the mob
of obese devils. Grotesquely inflated bodies were ground under the spiked wheels of the war
machine, blood and gore spraying out from the spinning wheels. Rowan's storm of whirling
radiance was gone. Pariah got over the deck, dropped Lythienne, and then landed clumsily. She
dismissed her wings and turned to resume picking off the nupperibos that were trying to get
aboard.

Rowan turned the vehicle again and they continued their grim journey, driving over the bodies of
the corpulent fiends, grinding them to mush as the war machine struggled towards the narrow gap
between the hills and the lake of blood.

Chapter End Notes

It's interesting that both the module and the remix show this big red lake surrounding
the Tower of Urm, and neither of them addresses it. So what is it? I decided "boiling
blood" was appropriate, but it's still odd that nobody talks about it.

My original idea for the combat was to add either a nupperibo or two stirges at the
beginning of each round. They have to fight off waves of these minor annoyances
while fighting the wasps. And then on Round 1, Rowan casts Spirit Guardians and I
realized that the trash mobs would be obliterated instantly. So I added more wasps
instead.
 A Fiendish Campground
Chapter Summary

The group recovers from the battle with the wasps and nupperibos and resumes their
journey to the Tower of Urm.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah looked up in surprise when the war machine came to a halt and the engine sputtered into
silence. "What are you doing?" she asked Rowan.

The priest stood up from the helm seat and turned. "I want to look at you two," she said. "I think
we'll be safe here, but Farima and Lulu, take watch just in case."

Pariah hesitated. "I think we should keep going."

"Well, I want a rest!" Rowan snapped. She took a breath to calm herself. "Just a quick one. Let me
make sure there aren't any lingering effects from that poison. Now get down here."

Pariah scanned their surroundings. After grinding their way through the gap that had been clogged
with obese nupperibo and swarms of biting flies, the land had opened up. The hills had curved
away and they were now about five hundred feet away from the crowds at the shore of the lake.
Nothing moved in the flat land around them, nor did she see any giant wasps swooping in from the
hills.

Reluctantly she climbed down from the harpoon station to the main deck. She and Lythienne took
seats as Rowan started examining the wound on Pariah's left arm. Rowan said, "How do you feel?"

"A little sick to my stomach," she admitted, "but that might be the smell."

The stench was overwhelming. From here she could see the wheel spikes were covered in gore,
and she could only imagine what kind of body part horror they'd find in the mechanism underneath.
She had no idea how they could possibly get it clean, especially since the nearest source of "water"
was actually blood.

Rowan gave her an appraising look. "Your speech is slurred."

Pariah waved off her concern. "Some of the flies got into my mouth and bit my tongue." She
opened her mouth to show Rowan. Rowan examined Pariah's tongue with a slightly disgusted look
in her face.

Lythienne said, "I believe my speech is fine. Several saucy sprites in shining shoes sang to sleepy
sailors as the sun set."

Pariah grinned at the tongue twister, but Rowan's face was still clouded. "Fine, but you are both
still poisoned and I don't know how dangerous wasp venom from Hell is."

Pariah studied her with a frown. "You're in a mood."

Rowan frowned back at her. She growled, "Well, you idiots keep getting hurt far away when I can't
heal you. It's frustrating!"

That brought back Pariah's smile. "We're fine," she assured Rowan, giving her a one-armed hug.
"And we'll try to get hurt near you from now on."

Rowan grunted, but Pariah felt her relax a bit as she went to examine the sting wound on
Lythienne's belly. Rowan said over her shoulder, "Why don't you make yourself useful and pour us
a round of beers from that jug of yours."

Pariah glanced at Lythienne, who gave her a "sure, why not" expression back.

Pariah looked up at Farima and said, "Beer?"

Farima was scanning the horizon. "It is too warm for beer. Water I think, thank you."

"Me, too," said Lulu.

Pariah fetched cups from everyone's packs and poured three beers and two waters. They gathered
around and grabbed their cups. Pariah raised hers and said, "To not being dead."

They toasted and drank. The beer was flat and sour, and the smell of nupperibo guts didn't make it
taste any better.

Pariah let herself relax just a little, and admitted to herself that a break from the action was what
they all needed. Images of mutilated, corpulent bodies invaded her mind and she dug out one of her
books to try to distract herself from it. Rowan prayed over everyone, and the others kept watch.
Although it was about lunch time, nobody wanted to eat while sitting on a machine covered in
devil viscera.

Farima used her magic to summon water to wash away the blood and innards from the deck and the
wheels. The water didn't have enough pressure to do a thorough job, but the worst of it flowed off
to soak into the hard ground beneath the vehicle. By the time she was done, she was panting and
she held her ribs.

"You all right?" Pariah asked her.

Farima nodded. "My old injury is paining me slightly, but I shall be fine."

Rowan had finished her prayers and was studying their path ahead through the goggles. "I think I
see a bridge. It leads to an island. I don't see a tower though."

Farima said, "The tower comes and goes." Her face shifted to the familiar look of confusion she got
when trying to remember her conversation with Burney. "I believe Mordenkainen takes it with him.
However, the iron foundation is a landmark that is easy to find. We may have to wait for him to
arrive."

Lythienne said to Pariah, "Would you like to drive?"

Pariah saw the elven woman looked a little green, which was an interesting color on the copper
skin of a wood elf. Pariah herself was feeling better, but still sick from the poison, achy from her
wounds, not to mention still feeling weak and sore from fueling the war machine earlier. "Sure,"
she said without enthusiasm.

Rowan said firmly, "I'll drive. We can see where we need to go so I don't need to navigate. You
two need your rest."

"I'll stand sentry, then," said Lythienne. Pariah didn't fight her on that.

The vehicle started moving, leaving some of the gruesome stench behind, which helped a little.
The land before was relatively flat so Rowan was able to pick up some speed. It wasn't all that long
before Pariah could see the bridge Rowan had mentioned. It was a simple span of unadorned black
iron that arched over a narrow stretch of the lake to an island about a hundred feet off the shore.
The island was flat and bare of any trees, so it was easy to see two features: an iron building and a
crowd of figures camped out in front of it.

The building looked to be made of the same black infernal iron as so many things in Avernus,
including the war machine they rode on. It was about forty feet square with no visible door. A wide
staircase of reddish-brown stone led up to the roof. The metal of the building was inlaid with
silvery designs, but it was too far for Pariah to make out any detail.

Besides, she was more concerned with the mob of fiends.

Rowan drove slowly across the iron bridge and, as they cleared the peak of the shallow arch and
started down the other side, Pariah studied the crowd gathered before the stairs. They were broken
into several groups, and each had set up a crude camp in the area in front of the steps.

She saw two groups of creatures like the bugmen from the galleon. She didn't see the arcanaloth so
didn't know if these were the same bugmen or not, though she doubted they were. She saw a group
of three muscular, green-skinned humanoids that kind of looked like buff orcs with wings and
horns, though they were twice the size of typical humanoids. In another camp, a pair of spike-
backed, human-sized toads watched the newcomers with intelligent eyes. Finally, far from the
others, a figure sat alone. It was a tall, spindly humanoid with gray skin covered in red pustules,
and fingernails as long as its forearms. Its face was so swollen with rot that she wasn't sure if it had
eyes, or if it was even alive. She wondered if it was a corpse that had been left to rot, but then it
turned its head toward their vehicle. Of course, just because it could move didn't mean it wasn't
dead.

The bugmen and the winged, green-skinned creatures had war machines, one machine for each of
the three groups. None of the others did. All of the fiends observed the newcomers cautiously
while whispering to each other, but none seemed overtly aggressive.

Rowan pulled the machine to a clear area of ground a distance from the other fiends and then cut
the engine. The crowd mostly lost interest in them. They still watched, but Pariah noticed they
were watching each other as well. It seemed to be more of a generalized air of suspicion, though
she was sure they would have to mind their step.

She realized the three green-skinned ones were still looking them over. When one of them saw her
staring at them, he mumbled something to the others and they quickly looked away.

Rowan said, "I wasn't expecting anyone else. This looks like an awful lot of..." She struggled for
the word. "...people? Are fiends people?"

"No," said Lulu emphatically.

Farima asked her, "Do you know what these things are?"

"Yugoloths," Lulu explained. "They travel all over the Lower Planes. I can't remember all the
different types because they're yucky and I don't care, but a lot of yugoloths are mercenaries."
Lythienne asked, "So you think they are here waiting for work from Mordenkainen?"

That thought bothered Pariah. She had been hoping that Mordenkainen, being human, wouldn't be
evil like the devils. She realized now that had been a naïve thought. Humans could be quite evil
when they wanted to be, and anyone who regularly visited the Nine Hells probably wasn't a noble
hero.

It also meant it might be difficult to see him if so many were already waiting. To Farima she said,
"Do you know how long we'll have to wait?"

Farima shook her head. "It might be several days. He comes and goes seemingly at random."

Pariah looked over the groups nearby, and then said, "I think I'll go talk to them and see what's
going on. Rowan, why don't you come with me?"

Farima said disapprovingly, "Are you certain that is wise?"

Pariah shrugged as she climbed down from the war machine. "I'm just going to say hi and ask a few
questions, not pick a fight. You'll be nearby if anything goes wrong."

Rowan at her side, Pariah headed to the nearest group, the pair of frog-like humanoids. They
hunched over as they sat on the ground, making it hard to judge their full height, but they were
clearly much larger than humans. Their warty skin was covered in mucus, and beneath the slime
Pariah could see symbols tattooed onto their skin. They watched the newcomers approach with
bulbous eyes set just above mouths filled with needle teeth like a moray eel.

"Hi," Pariah said in Infernal. "Are you waiting for Mordenkainen?"

The creatures studied her and for a moment she wondered if they didn't understand her, and then
one croaked in Infernal, "What do you want, mortal?"

She started to say, "I just told you what I want," but held her tongue. Instead, she said, "We want to
meet with Mordenkainen, but don't know when he's going to be here, or how we get his attention. I
was hoping you could help us."

The creature sighed in annoyance. "You wait. His tower appears. He says he has work. Everyone
yells. He points to someone."

"Do you know when he's going to show up?"

"No," it said, its irritation growing.

She didn't see this conversation going anywhere. "If you don't mind," she said sweetly, "could you
tell me what type of creatures everyone is?"

It groaned. It pointed to itself, "Hydroloth." It pointed to the bugmen, "Mezzoloth." It pointed to

the winged, green-skinned creatures, "Nycaloth." It pointed to the skinny, diseased humanoid.
"Oinoloth." It pointed to Pariah. "Annoying idiot."

Pariah gave him a bright smile. With a hint of sarcasm she said, "Thank you for your time, kind
sir."

She and Rowan returned to the others. Pariah said, "Well, that was a waste. They didn't say
anything more than we already know: wait for Mordenkainen's tower to appear."
Farima studied the hydroloths with distaste. "I question whether it will be safe to camp here, but I
suppose it is safer than camping among the creatures at the shore."

They set up quickly. Pariah suddenly found herself wondering if any creatures might come in from
the lake of blood, but she didn't see any reason to go back to the hydroloths and ask. As they started
to break out the rations, Pariah pulled out the hat she had gotten at Fort Knucklebone and frowned
at it. "Do we want to try fresh meat?" she asked hesitantly.

The group stared at the hat. Lythienne said, "Tasha told us the creatures would be safe for us to
eat."

"They did not look very appetizing," Farima said.

Lythienne held up a piece of bluish brown jerky. "This probably didn't look very appetizing when
it was alive either."

Rowan made a thoughtful noise. "I'm actually a little curious. Maybe we could try one of each, just
to taste."

Farima was looking at the hat distastefully, but said, "I suppose it is likely to be the flesh of fiends
either way. Very well."

Pariah felt a perverse interest in the idea, so she held her hat out and said the magic words,
summoning one of each creature. Tasha had told them the local names in Infernal. In Common the
names translate roughly to black monkey rat, sand bat, and corpse toad -- Tasha had assured them
that the latter was not actually associated with corpses, though she didn't know where the name
came from.

Pariah, having roasted the occasional rat in her time, took care of the butchering and was going to
do the cooking, but Rowan took that over. To be fair, Pariah's method was "cook until it's black so
you know you won't get sick" whereas Rowan's cooking technique was more nuanced. Lythienne
contributed the spices she had bought at Fort Knucklebone, and Pariah provided vinegar and salt
water from her jug.

In the end, the meal was nothing special. Rowan had verified through prayer that the meat wasn't
poisonous, but it all still tasted rotten. Adding spices just meant it tasted rotten but with a weird
aftertaste. It was more flavorful than the jerky, but that wasn't really a positive thing.

They settled in for sleep, taking watches to be sure the yugoloths kept their distance. Pariah slept
poorly, though she wasn't sure if it was the lingering effects of the wasp poison, the fear of the
crowd of yugoloths nearby, the stench of the nearby lake of blood, or some combination of factors.
The hint of nightmares hung over her all morning long.

About seven hours after they woke, a rising whine filled the air. She looked up to see the air above
the iron foundation shimmering. The yugoloths started to grow excited and got to their feet. The
whine became louder and the air suddenly seemed to split open. A great tower appeared with a
crack of thunder so loud it left Pariah's ears ringing. It was a huge cylinder of black iron that
narrowed slightly as it rose. Four feet jutted out from the base, and two metal horns reached out
from the top. About two thirds of the way up, a balcony faced out towards the waiting supplicants.
She saw no windows and no doors in the dark metal surface.

The tower floated slightly above the foundation. It slowly lowered itself into place, landing with a
tremor that shook the ground. It twisted slightly and the feet locked into the foundation with a
heavy clank.
 Many of the yugoloths were yelling and waving and jumping up and down. Some shouted words in
Infernal, calling out to Mordenkainen and trying to draw his attention. Others shouted in Abyssal,
and she assumed they were saying something similar. Most of them just yelled wordlessly.

She started gathering her things as did her companions. She didn't see any point in yelling. Not only
were they unlikely to be heard over the roar of the fiends, but she didn't see any reason to yell if the
wizard hadn't even appeared.

Time wore on. Over the next hour, the yelling subsided, though it never completely died. Pariah
found herself becoming bored, but it wasn't like they had anywhere else to be at the moment.

"Look there," said Lythienne. The metal wall at the back of the balcony had opened to let out a
human man. Pariah couldn't see much at this distance other than he was bald, bearded and wore a
high-collared grey robe. The man studied the crowd for a moment. He pointed to Pariah and her
companions and said, "You mortals, come to me." His tone was quiet, conversational even, and yet
somehow audible even over the roaring of the fiends. He turned and headed back inside.

The sounds of the roars died down. Every fiendish eye turned to study the mortals, resentment
clear on their faces. Pariah said, "Well, at least we won't have to wait."

Nobody rushed to move until finally Rowan stepped forward and the others followed. They moved
between the camps of yugoloths, whom Pariah studiously ignored. She hoped that the invitation
gave them a circle of safety, and that none of the fiends would kill the newcomers just to jump the
line, but she kept her hand near her sword anyhow.

As they got close to the tower, she could see the silvery inlays on the foundation in more detail, but
that didn't help her understand them. They might be decorative, but her gut told her they were
magical sigils of some kind, just nothing she recognized. "Farima," she said, "do those symbols
mean anything to you."

"No," the woman said thoughtfully. "I am unfamiliar with the iconography. I suspect they are
magical, though."

Pariah nodded agreement as they mounted the stairs. As they neared the top, she hesitated. The
metal wall before them was featureless. "How are we supposed to get in?" she wondered.

Before she had finished the sentence, a portion of the wall slid away silently to reveal blackness.
She could see nothing inside, even with her tiefling vision. "I guess that answers that," she
mumbled. She was nervous about entering the unknown, but they weren't going to get any answers
standing there. They moved forward and stepped into the darkness of Mordenkainen's tower.

Chapter End Notes

To add a little color, I threw in a few more yugoloths from, appropriately enough,
Mordenkainen's Tome of Foes.
 A Stern Wizard
Chapter Summary

The group enters the Tower of Urm to meet with the legendary wizard, Mordenkainen.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah stepped through the blackness into a large, circular room. The air was cool and carried a
slight odor of citrus. The floor was white marble shot through with veins of black. Abstract
paintings hung on the oak-paneled walls. Along the back wall was a bookcase shaped to fit the
curve of the wall, and Pariah eyed the volumes there hungrily.

On the other side of the room, the man from the balcony sat in a wingback chair of mahogany
wood and dark red fabric. His facial features were sharp, like they had been carved from stone, and
his skin was dusky brown. He was bald with a neatly trimmed black goatee. Dark eyes scanned the
group with a penetrating gaze. In front of him was a small table of the same mahogany as the chair,
and on the table was a small, silver whistle and an ivory coffer.

His gaze flicked up and down each of them. It reminded her of how Mahadi had evaluated each of
them upon their first meeting. Unlike Mahadi, Pariah could get a sense of emotion from the man
before her: annoyance and contempt.

Her feeling about his emotions was confirmed when he sneered just slightly and said,
"Adventurers," in a withering tone. "And what havoc have you sown in this place?"

He wasn't looking at any of them in particular when he asked, and she wasn't sure if it was a
rhetorical question, but she said, "We are trying to save Elturel."

He sniffed in derision. "Of course you are. And what do you want of me?"

Pariah knew she shouldn't be distracted from her point, but she couldn't help but ask, "And what's
wrong with saving Elturel?"

His speared her with his gaze. His eyes flicked down to her tattoos and back to her face. "Why do
you want to save the city? To bring the souls to Levistus?"

Pariah had stopped being surprised that everyone seemed to know about her pact with Levistus.
"No," she said firmly. "The people there are innocent. They don't belong here."

"Innocent?" he asked. His tone was not scornful, but instead amused. The corner of his mouth
twitched up into a hint of a smile, though not a friendly one. "And they do belong here. The
contract says they do."

"But they don't deserve it," she insisted.

He made a dismissive wave. "That is a simplistic view of ethics and justice, but I haven't the
patience to educate you. What do you want?"
Pariah felt herself growing angry, but before she could speak, Rowan said quickly, "We are looking
for a man named Olanthius. He was one of Zariel's generals, though I guess he's not a man
anymore. Some kind of undead, I believe."

Pariah felt relief when his intense stare switched to Rowan. His eyes narrowed a bit. "Why do you
think I know anything about him?"

It was Farima who replied. "There was a woman who directed us to you. Her name is Burney and
she works at the Wandering Emporium."

His eyes rolled up just a bit. "Of course she did." He shook his head in annoyance.

Farima asked "You know her?"

He said to Rowan, "I can tell you how to find Olanthius. What do you offer in return?"

Rowan was unprepared for the question. "I guess I'm not sure what someone like you would want,"
she answered weakly.

He sighed heavily. "You came here to ask something of me and brought no payment? You might
offer charity, priest, but I don't."

Pariah was trying to hold her temper. "Well then, tell us what you want," she snapped.

Her sharp tone didn't seem to affect him at all. He shook his head. "Adventurers," he said again in
disgust. In a louder voice he said, "I'm always on the lookout for powerful artifacts so I can destroy
them or lock them away."

"Why?" Rowan asked, confused. "Wouldn't you want their power?"

"Certainly not!" he spat. "Artifacts are even worse than adventurers when it comes to throwing off
the Balance. I'd gladly wish them all out of existence if I could."

Farima said with reluctance, "What about this?" She held out her left hand, the one that bore the
War Gauntlet. Reverently, she said, "This is a holy artifact of the god Torm."

The man looked at her in surprise and then burst out laughing. "That trinket? What charlatan told
you that was a holy artifact? Every sword with a mild enchantment is described to be something
legendary so the smith can increase the price. That has the barest hit of divine energy to it, but it's
not much more than a toy."

Farima flushed as she looked at the gauntlet in shock. Pariah could feel her confusion and
embarrassment.

Lythienne said to him, "Would you know the location of any such artifacts?"

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I believe the Hand of Vecna is in possession of Arkhan the
Cruel, who can be found about a week's drive from here." His appraising gaze swept over them.
"While I have special interest in destroying that foul thing, I see no possibility you could acquire it.
I know of no other artifacts nearby."

"What else do you want?" Lythienne asked

He sighed dramatically. "I am always in need of materials for my research." He opened the ivory
coffer on the table and withdrew a scroll that shouldn't have been able to fit in such a small box. He
tossed it to her. "Here is a list of ingredients. Any of these would be adequate payment for the
information you seek."

Lythienne unrolled the scroll and ran her eyes down the page. "These will not be easy to acquire."

"Obviously," he said coldly.

Pariah pursed her lips. "Elturel is in danger right now. While we waste time chasing payment, the
city is pulled closer to its destruction. Tell us now and we will give payment later."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I have already told you that I do not care about the fate of the city.
And I am not some moneylender offering credit to desperate fortune seekers. I have given you my
price. If you are so concerned with wasting time, then stop wasting mine. This discussion is over.
Leave."

His final word had an almost magical quality to it, and Pariah felt the strong compulsion to follow
his command. She didn't think it was an actual spell but rather just the force of his personality. She
heard a noise behind her and turned to see the door had opened.

She didn't have anything more to say to him, nothing constructive anyhow, so she started towards
the door. The others fell into step behind her. She was surprised when she heard Lythienne ask, "Is
it in your power to free a soul that has been condemned to Avernus?"

They all stopped and turned. Lythienne was still standing where she had been, facing the wizard.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "Do I have the power? Yes. Am I willing to do so? No."

"Not for any price?" she asked with a hint of desperation.

"No price you could pay," he said. "Now go!"

Lythienne reluctantly joined them, and they headed out of the tower. As they exited, they saw three
mezzoloths waiting on the steps. As soon as the mortals had left, the bugmen went inside and the
door shut behind them.

The party returned to the war machine in silence, under the watchful eye of the other yugoloths.
They sat around the remains of the fire from the night before. Lythienne was still holding the half-
unfurled scroll, but she was staring off into the distance rather than reading it. Pariah studied her
and felt sad. She didn't know if it was her devil's sight or simply empathy, but the other woman had
changed. On the surface she seemed the same, and she had started to smile and be cheerful again,
but a light had gone out inside her. Pariah remembered what Lythienne had said about how
Evaelisar had been hollow when he came back from Avernus; Pariah now understood what those
words meant.

Pariah looked over the others. Rowan was gripping her coin as she stared into the ashes of the fire;
her mood seemed good and she seemed to be weathering the stress of the Hells better than any of
them. Farima, on the other hand, looked sadly at the War Gauntlet, now held in her hands rather
than worn.

Lulu was sitting by Farima, watching her. "I think he was wrong," she assured the woman. "I think
that guy's just a big meanie who likes making people feel bad. I can feel the touch of Torm on that
gauntlet. "

Farima looked at her with a glimmer of hope. "Do you really think so?"

Lulu nodded. "Yes," she said emphatically.

Rowan, still staring into the ashes, said, "Don't let the words of others challenge your devotion.
Know the truth."

Farima gave her a grateful smile and slipped the gauntlet back on. "Thank you. You are right. I am
ashamed I was willing to abandon my faith so quickly."

Pariah blew out a breath. "What an asshole."

Farima nodded. "With as many evil creatures as we have met, somehow he feels the most evil of
all. Fiends and hags cannot help their dispositions, but he is human. His indifference to the
suffering of the people of Elturel was almost more disturbing than watching Mad Maggie consume
a corpse. I expect nothing more from her; I do expect more from him."

"What's on the list?" Pariah asked Lythienne.

The elf looked up in surprise and then glanced down at the scroll. She shook herself out of her
reverie. "Blood and organs of many creatures I'm not familiar with, though the ones I know of are
quite powerful. Some obscure gems and metals. A few items that have to be harvested under
specific circumstances. For example, 'illithid flesh that has been petrified by the breath of a male
gorgon' is probably not something we can find here." She shook her head. "There is a lot to process
here."

Pariah wondered if hunting specific monsters might be easiest. "What kind of creatures?"

"Demon lords and archdevils. Other powerful creatures like pit fiends or ancient dragons."

"Talona's tits," she sighed. She should have known it wouldn't be easy. She looked around at the
fiends in the area. "I imagine asking around here wouldn't help. The yugoloths would want the
same things and aren't going to tell us where to find them."

Lythienne's expression brightened. "We could go back to the Wandering Emporium," she said with
a little too much enthusiasm, though Pariah could understand why she was excited to return. It had
certainly been the least awful place they'd found so far. However, she also feared Lythienne might
have another reason to want to go back.

Rowan cautioned, "If it's still there. They move around."

"But they leave a wide trail," Farima said. "They would probably be easy to track."

"True," Rowan agreed. "If we can't find them, we could always try going back to Fort
Knucklebone. That barkeep seemed to know a lot."

Pariah considered that. "The Wandering Emporium is probably our best bet. If they've moved on,
then we can decide whether to follow them or go back to the fort." She looked over at the war
machine and frowned. "I guess there's no reason to hang around. We might as well start out now."

Lythienne wrinkled her nose. "I'm not looking forward to the trip back through the nupperibos.
Let's hope no more wasps this time."

Rowan reached into her satchel. "I wonder if there is another route." She retrieved the map and
unrolled it on the ground to study. After a couple of minutes she said, "Not really," in a tone of
disappointment. "We could go through the hills here," she pointed to the map but Pariah didn't
look, not wanting to feel the map getting into her head. Rowan continued, "But it looks like rough
terrain, rougher than running over a few more bodies." She hesitated and snorted. "Now there's a
sentence I never thought I'd say."
Pariah leaned back to put her weight on her arms. "I guess we should leave now. It's a little late,
but maybe we can push through so we can sleep at the Bed of Bones tonight."

"Agreed," Lythienne said, but then added, "But there is one thing we need to deal with. The fuel
tank is low again."

"Shit," said Rowan emphatically. "My turn?"

Lythienne pursed her lips. "You know my thoughts on the matter."

"I know," Rowan said unenthusiastically, "but I feel I should try it at least once before deciding if I
agree." She stood and the others followed suit. Rowan took a breath and climbed aboard the war
machine along with the rest of the party. She walked up to the fuel tank, gripping her holy symbol.
"Lady Tymora, please protect me from evil," she muttered, and then she reached towards the rod
with her metal hand.

She stopped before she made contact, and she looked at the prosthesis thoughtfully. Then she
switched hands, holding the coin around her neck with her left hand and reaching out to grip the bar
with her right.

Her body spasmed as soon as her skin made contact with the metal. Pariah felt the urge to rush
forward and pull her away from the infernal machine, but she knew they needed to make this
sacrifice. Rowan's lips pulled back from her teeth as she fought against it, but finally the scream
was ripped from her. It tore into Pariah's ears and she tensed in sympathetic pain, remembering her
own experience. She took an involuntary step forward but stopped herself.

Finally, Rowan tore her hand away and started to fall. Pariah and Farima both rushed forward to
catch her and lower her to the deck of the machine. As the sound of her scream died away, Pariah
heard laughter. She turned to see the yugoloths were watching them, guffawing at Rowan's
suffering. Pariah felt anger surging in her but knew there was nothing to be done about it. These
were cruel creatures.

The engine's roar shook her body. She turned to see Lythienne already in the driver's seat. Pariah
didn't see any reason to argue over who was going to drive, so she helped Rowan stand and led her
to one of the seats in the back of the machine.

Lythienne guided the machine across the bridge back to the mainland and then turned to follow the
shore towards the gap. As they got close, Pariah could see the narrow space between the cliff and
the lake of blood was still choked with nupperibos.

"Wait here," she said to Rowan, but the other woman was already rising.

"I'm better," Rowan said. "I'll help keep those things off of us."

They repeated their grim journey over the bodies of the corpulent, stinking devils. As gore flew
from the spiked wheels, the stirges started to swarm, but it wasn't too bad. Farima, Pariah, Rowan
and Lulu were able to blast any creature that got close. Lythienne drove closer to the shore this
time, which made Pariah worry that an attack would come from the lake, but nothing else molested
them.

Eventually, they got through the thickest areas of the nupperibos, and open land spread before
them. Lythienne picked up speed and they were able to leave the lake behind as they headed
towards the hills that lay between them and the last location of the Wandering Emporium.

The terrain all kind of looked alike to Pariah, which might have made it hard to find the way back
to the specific location they had last seen the marketplace. However, one advantage of the lack of
wind was that the wheel marks from their war machine were still visible. They were able to
backtrack right to the Wandering Emporium.

Well, that is, to the place that the Wandering Emporium had been. When they arrived, there was
nothing more than a large patch of disturbed earth, churned up by the camp and by the war
machines as they had left. Another trail tore a scar in the land, continuing in the direction it had
been going when they had found it before.

Lythienne shut off then engine and the group looked at the emptiness in disappointment.

Rowan said, "I'm surprised they left so quickly. They were only there for two or three days. Do
they really move along that often?"

"Apparently so," said Farima. "It makes me wonder how people find them when they can be
anywhere."

Lythienne stood and stretched. "They may follow a known circuit so people know to be on the
lookout. Or maybe there is some kind of magical beacon that pulls people in the area towards it."
She shrugged. "Or maybe it's just one of those places that is always where it needs to be."

Pariah snorted. "That sounds like something Mahadi would say."

"True," Lythienne smiled. "But the machinations of Fate are probably stronger in the Outer Planes
than at home."

Rowan made a thoughtful noise. "I was thinking maybe people just followed their tracks, but
look." She pointed to the trail that led into the abandoned campsite, the tracks they had followed to
find it in the first place. "It's already hard to see."

Pariah saw that she was right. The earlier trail was still visible but was fading into the land. The
newer trail was obvious, but she wondered how quickly it would disappear. Maybe the Hells
naturally repaired themselves, not needing something so mundane as wind to erase the scars from a
war machine's wheels.

"Should we follow them?" she asked. "Because I'm tired and achy."

"Me too," said Rowan as she rubbed the muscles of her upper arms.

Farima said reluctantly, "I suppose we should rest first. We have no idea how long they will have
traveled, but it logically would be more than an hour or two. Were the machine more comfortable I
would suggest we rest while we drive, but I do not see that as possible." She looked over the war
machine with an expression of scorn. "This entire device seems be designed to be as unpleasant as
possible."

"Welcome to Hell," Pariah said with a smirk. She then looked into the distance, in the direction the
Emporium had driven, and said, "But maybe we should drive a little farther. We won't catch up,
but we can close the distance." She turned and looked in another direction. "Or we could go to Fort
Knucklebone. At least we know they will still be there, though it means crossing the bridge again,
probably twice, so that's more soul coins."

Farima looked in the direction Pariah had, though that probably wasn't the direction of Fort
Knucklebone. She said, "I feel my dream brought us to the Wandering Emporium for a purpose,
possibly more purpose than merely to discover the location of this tower. And I am loathe to return
to the domain of the hag."
Lulu piped up, "I think we should go to the Emporium. I want to see Burney again."

Pariah studied Lulu. "And you still aren't going to tell us who she is. Or what she is."

"That's a secret," Lulu said playfully. "But she's a friend."

Farima studied Lulu as well. "I am inclined to agree, though I am frustrated that I do not know her
role in all of this."

Rowan had sat down on the deck and was spinning coins. She looked up and said, "Tymora doesn't
seem to have an opinion." She shrugged. "And neither do I."

Pariah looked back and forth between the two directions they were considering, and then said, "It
sounds like we all either want to go to the Emporium or don't care." She shrugged. "So I guess we
chase them and hope they haven't gone too far. Lythienne, you're tired. I'll drive."

The other woman didn't argue. Pariah started the engine and they started down the trail they hoped
would lead them to the Wandering Emporium.

They drove for more than three hours. The land started to become uneven, still mostly flat but with
sharp-sided hills dotting the landscape. The trail was easy to follow but that made it easier for
Pariah's mind to drift. Without realizing it, she fell into a light doze.

She was shaken out of it by a crash and the bucking of the war machine. She had a moment of
confusion before she pulled back on the throttle and pulled the emergency brake. The war machine
skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of red dust. Pariah looked around frantically. "What
happened?"

"You hit a large rock," came Farima's pained voice.

Pariah saw her standing in one of the weapon stations, holding her ribs and wincing. "Are you all
right?" Pariah asked in alarm.

"I am fine," Farima assured her. "I simply was thrown against the railing, but I do not believe it
made my injury worse."

Pariah stood. Guilt surged in her as she said, "Sorry, sorry. I guess I fell asleep. Is everyone else
OK?"

Nobody else seemed to be hurt, and Rowan was already checking on Farima. Lythienne said, "I
think maybe we should stop and rest."

"Yeah," Pariah agreed. She looked around and pointed to one of the hills. "Make camp up there?"
she suggested. Although it had the sheer sides of the other hills, this one had a gentler slope on one
side that the war machine should be able to traverse.

Nervously, with adrenaline surging through her and making her hyper-alert, she drove the machine
slowly up to the top of the hill. She turned the vehicle so it blocked the path leading up. They set
up their camp and ate a quick supper from Tasha's rations. Pariah still felt guilty, but she didn't get
any sense of blame from the others. In fact, they seemed to have forgotten about it.

She offered to take first watch, but Rowan insisted that Pariah needed her rest. Pariah reluctantly
agreed and, calmed by some beer from her jug, she settled down into a deep but predictably
unrestful sleep.
 Pariah started to wake up as something heavy thudded to the ground next to her. She was still
disoriented as large hands grabbed her, claws digging into her flesh. She heard the flap of a
powerful pair of wings and she was lifted into the air.

Chapter End Notes

During my final proofreading, I realized they were asking him how to find Haruman
rather than Olanthius. Glad I caught that and fixed it!

The conversation with Mordenkainen was supposed to be the entire chapter. However,
after reading about him, he's not one to chit chat. He's a busy and impatient man, so I
couldn't see any way to stretch it out.

I never used his name, which wasn't deliberate but I realized it about halfway through
the conversation and decided to run with it. I feel like it adds to the aloof nature of the
character.
 A Curious Abduction
Chapter Summary

Pariah wakes up as she is snatched out of their camp by a fiend.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah started to panic, not sure what was happening. She was being held by something and her
face was buried into hard, green flesh. She turned her head and saw the ground getting farther
away. She summoned a cloud of ice crystals into the path her abductor was taking, unsure if this
would work, and was pleased when she felt the earth under her bare feet after her teleportation. The
muscular arms were no longer wrapped around her.

She looked up to see a large, green-skinned humanoid flying above her and looking confused. It
was a nycaloth, though she had no idea if it was one of the three from Mordenkainen's tower. One
of her hands reached out to summon her rapier while another one sent a beam of frost that skidded
off the fiend's shoulder.

"Wake up!" she shouted, though she could see the others were already stirring. However, the
nycaloth was fast. It dove down and made a grab for her, but she was expecting that and darted to
the side.

"Slippery one, aren't you," he growled in Infernal as he landed on the ground between her and the
others. He looked over his shoulder and raised a hand. Three black portals appeared, one near each
of her companions, and from each portal came a mezzoloth, the bugmen that seemed so common
here. "Kill the others," the nycaloth yelled. "The one with horns is mine."

Meanwhile, Pariah had pulled the cold into the blade of her weapon and lunged forward. He was
caught off guard by the rapid attack style she had developed, and she landed a number of wounds,
including a deep one in his belly, before he could get his axe out. Meanwhile, Lulu said something
in Celestial and Pariah felt a divine warmth flow through her, guiding her blade.

Rowan's voice rang out, "Tymora, by grace of your good fortune, banish this evil from this plane
forever!" Radiant energy swirled around the nycaloth, but he waved it off as though it was a swarm
of flies, and it dissipated harmlessly.

Pariah spared a glance at the others. Each was trapped in a duel with their own personal mezzoloth.
Lythienne seemed to be doing all right, moving gracefully around hers, pounding him with kicks
and punches. The spikes on her gloves tore past the chitin as though it were paper, and some kind
of liquid started to ooze out of the cracks.

Rowan wasn't alone. Multiple copies of her surrounded her opponent, and her cloud of coins
hammered against its exoskeleton like hail on a roof. It whirled around in confusion as it tried to
find its real opponent.

Farima, on the other hand, was in a panic. She held her staff defensively as she clumsily parried the
mezzoloth's trident. She cast a spell in a quavering voice and a cluster of energy bolts burst from
the tip of her staff and peppered the fiend. Lulu was yelling at it, trying to get its attention, and
when that didn't work she trumpeted a blast of energy across its back.

Pariah brought her attention back to her own battle as she saw the axe move. She lifted her arm to
block, but was confused when he didn't strike with the edge of the blade. Instead, he swung the
weapon so the flat of it crashed past her icy shield and against her body, driving her back a step and
knocking her breath away. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to inhale as she shifted to a
defensive stance.

The nycaloth continued to strike with the flat rather than the edge of his blade. Even though his
blows were clumsy, it was hard to avoid or block such a large surface so she took a more
aggressive approach. She slipped in past his great reach, stabbing at any exposed skin she could
see. His flesh was hard, like piercing heavy clay, but her rapier still found its way past and she
scored multiple wounds. Unfortunately, she took several hits from the axe and her body was
starting to ache with the bruising.

Pariah dared to glance at the rest of the battle again. Lythienne's opponent was bleeding from
many places and his movements were slow and weak. Rowan's opponent still tried to find the real
her in the crowd, but Pariah could see that the priest was starting to get tired. Farima was clearly
the worst off. A barrage of energy bolts poured from her staff with staccato pops, and her opponent
was weakening, but she had at least two serious wounds.

Pariah almost dropped her guard when the mezzoloth's claws tore across Farima's side and her
knees buckled. However, as she went down, she launched one more cluster of missiles that
punched through the fiend's chest, sending a spray of chitin shards out his back.

"Farima needs help," she shouted, barely managing to deflect the flat of the heavy axe once again.
She was breathing hard and it was getting difficult to keep moving as fast as she had been.

"I've got her," came Lulu's high voice as she landed next to Farima, who was now laid out on the
ground.

Pariah was too focused on the battle to look at Farima again, but her aggressiveness was rewarded
when she scored another wound in the fiend. Unfortunately, the axe blade managed to glance
across her bare skull and the world started spinning. She struggled to hold onto consciousness. A
torrent of cold reflexively roared out of her and surrounded him, but he seemed to shrug off the
frozen wind with little effect.

"Mine's down," Lythienne yelled. "Helping Rowan."

Pariah did spare her attention for a split second, long enough to see Farima was climbing back to
her feet and that Lythienne was moving to engage the last mezzoloth. Rowan, Farima and
Lythienne made short work of the fiend.

"Don't attack," she yelled at the others. She fell into a defensive stance and then said to the
nycaloth in Infernal, "You haven't got a chance. Surrender!" She wanted to know why he had tried
to take her.

He hesitated. He had multiple wounds and looked as exhausted as Pariah felt. He surprised her
when he laughed loudly. "Surrender? Never!"

And then he just wasn't there.

Pariah stabbed into the empty space, suspecting invisibility, but her blade found only air. She heard
the flap of wings and looked up to see the fiend in the sky. She sent a beam of cold towards him
but he was already too far away and the beam petered out before it reached his retreating form.
"Talona's tits," she said angrily.

"One moment," said Farima as she sighted carefully down the length of her staff. Two beams of
energy shot from the staff. Pariah looked up to see both beams spear the nycaloth. He started to fall
and the fiend turned into black sludge. As the goo splashed to the ground, something rolled a few
feet away from the remains.

Pariah looked over the battleground and saw the mezzoloths had also turned to mush. She
surveyed their surroundings but saw no other attackers.

"What in the Nine Hells was that all about?" she demanded of nobody in particular.

"I am sorry," Farima said, clearly upset. "I was watching but I saw nothing. I heard the fiend land
but there was nothing there. He appeared only after he grabbed Pariah and started to fly off."

Pariah looked over the group. Farima was leaning against the war machine. She was standing but
pale and shaky. Rowan was already attending to her wounds, but she winced as she moved so
Pariah suspected she was injured as well. Lythienne was stretching out an ache, and Pariah felt her
own bruises start to make their presence known. Lulu was the only one who hadn't been injured.

"Why was he after me?" Pariah wondered aloud.

Lythienne said, "He probably just grabbed you at random."

Pariah shook her head. "He told the mezzoloths, 'Kill the others. The one with horns is mine'."

All eyes turned to look at her. Rowan's brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"

Pariah shrugged. "That's what he said."

The group was silent as they all considered that. Farima said, "Anything we have done here we
have done as a group. I see no reason to single out any one of us. Can you think of anything you
yourself have done?"

Pariah shook her head as she ran through the memories of their time in Avernus. She joked,
"Maybe Mad Maggie wanted her tiefling meat after all."

Rowan, who had gone back to attending to Farima, said, "I'm more worried that he might have
come from the tower. There were three of them there, right? Are the other two nearby? Will they
be attacking as well?"

Pariah hadn't thought of that, and looked up to search the sky but saw nothing but a featureless red
expanse, broken only by the nearly invisible shape of Elturel. Nothing moved. Of course, she told
herself, if they could turn invisible then she wouldn't see them anyhow.

"We travel pretty fast compared to walking or flying speed," Lythienne mused. "Then again, if they
can fly they can take a more direct route than we did so cover more ground." She waved to the torn
earth that led up the hill to their war machine. "And it's not like we are hard to track."

Farima studied the wheel marks. "Perhaps that is why they attacked in our sleep -- it took that long
to catch up to us." She frowned. "I am grateful that only one attacked. If all three or even two had, I
think we would not be here to discuss this."
Lulu said, "Fiends are stupid. They have dumb reasons for doing things. It doesn't matter. We're
strong and we'll beat them if they attack again."

Pariah appreciated her optimism, but didn't share it.

Rowan looked Farima over critically. "That's the best I can do for now." She looked back and forth
between the other two and said, "Lythienne, let me look at you. Pariah next."

Pariah remembered something from the battle. "You know, he wasn't trying to kill me. He was
trying to knock me out. He almost succeeded." She still had a bad headache from the blow to her
skull, though the world wasn't spinning anymore. "He wanted me alive. Maybe Mad Maggie
wanted fresh meat."

While Rowan examined Lythienne, Pariah wandered over to investigate the remains of the
nycaloth. Laying in the dirt a few feet away was what she had expected: another soul coin.

She looked over the nycaloth remains, wondering if it could be sold like demon ichor, but the
slime was already soaking into the dirt. She doubted she could collect enough to be worthwhile.
She put on her gloves, grabbed the soul coin, and carried it back to the war machine to store it with
the others.

After Rowan had examined them all, they decided to move their camp. The yugoloth sludge
emitted a foul smell and was starting to attract flies. Pariah wondered if stirges were next. They all
agreed they still needed a good rest before continuing their pursuit of the Wandering Emporium, so
they drove about a mile away and set up camp on another hill. After some discussion, they decided
on two-person watches for the rest of their sleep.

Pariah groaned as she sat up from her bedroll. Her muscles ached from both the activity and the
bruises, though as she glanced over her skin she saw the bruises were now gone. Rowan had
obviously been busy praying while they had slept. Despite that, Pariah felt groggy. Her sleep had
been disturbed as usual, including a new nightmare where she sat on a throne in a cold room
shouting for servants that never came.

"Morning," she said as she stood and stretched out the aches. Rowan and Lythienne were setting
out breakfast and Farima was starting to stir. Pariah looked around for Lulu and saw her standing
on one of the harpoon stations staring off into the distance. Wanting some exercise to get her blood
moving, Pariah walked over and looked in the same direction.

The air was surprisingly clear that morning, though an ominous bank of dark clouds were gathering
in the distance. However, the weather wasn't what drew her attention. In the same direction, a force
of at least a hundred fiends marched across the land, accompanied by a dozen war machines. Pariah
climbed aboard their own war machine to fetch the goggles that Rowan had left dangling from one
of the levers on the control panel. She slipped them on and studied the army.

Most of the fiends were bearded devils. Four devils wearing spiked armor rode black horses with
flaming hooves. A half dozen figures flew lazy circles around the force, scouting the area. They
were female, heavily armored, and had red-feathered wings. Most of the war machines were similar
in design to the ones she'd seen, but two were different. Each of the two had a devil face carved
into the front, flames burning in the mouth and eyes of the effigy. More flames shot from pipes
along their length, and spikes like claws looked ready to draw prey into the flaming mouths.

"Isn't that the way we're going?" Pariah wondered aloud. The trail left by the Wandering
Emporium led in that direction, though the army was moving towards the left. She hoped that they
would be able to avoid the fiendish legion.

"I dunno," Lulu said, distracted.

Pariah pushed the goggles up onto her forehead to look at the hollyphant. Lulu was looking in the
direction of the army, but her eyes were unfocused. "Are you all right?" Pariah asked.

Lulu turned to meet her gaze. "I guess so. Seeing that army made me remember something. I was
big and Zariel was on my back. We were leading a huge column of cavalry out of a city. They had
the same insignia as those people at Haruman's Hill."

"Were you marching to fight Yeenoghu?"

Lulu shrugged and said sadly, "I can't remember. I just remember feeling excited, ready for battle,
sure Zariel would lead us to victory." She hesitated. "I miss her, but I'm scared. I saw what she did.
What she became. I know you all said she was a devil, but I guess I never really..." She faded off.

Pariah put a hand on Lulu's back. She tried to imagine how she'd feel if someone she knew,
someone like Janshi, appeared before her as a devil, but she couldn't. It was too bizarre.

"Lulu," she said carefully, "you know we have to stop what Zariel is doing. Elturel doesn't deserve
what happened. Even if Zariel believes she was betrayed, even if she believes that sin deserves
harsh punishment, those soldiers are already suffering. The people in Elturel now had nothing to
do with that."

"I know," Lulu said with difficulty, and that's when Pariah sensed something: the compassion that
she hadn't felt when she was in Lulu's memories. Lulu had seen the suffering in the city, seen the
men and women being tortured by Haruman. Maybe she was starting to understand the truth of the
situation, regardless of her friendship with Zariel.

Pariah debated about whether or not to press it, and she decided to plunge on. "Are you prepared to
help us save Elturel? Even if it means going against Zariel's wishes?"

Lulu said nothing but nodded. Pariah was satisfied with that answer, but after a moment Lulu said
softly, "But I don't want to hurt her."

Pariah suppressed a laugh. The idea that this band of nobodies could stand against an archdevil was
absurd. She settled for saying, "I don't think that's going to be a problem. We just have to find a
way to break the contract or something."

Rowan called over, "Breakfast."

Pariah took off the goggles and put them back where she had found them, and then jumped off the
war machine and joined the others.

Rowan eyed her with concern. "I guess I don't have to ask how you slept."

Pariah was exhausted. She looked over the others and they seemed reasonably well rested, at least
as well rested as could be expected. "Yeah, still having trouble sleeping," she said. "I heard the
new soul coin I think."

"Freezing cold throne room?" Rowan asked

Pariah nodded as fetched her jug from her satchel.

Rowan chewed on a piece of jerky. "I'll talk with the new one today. See what the story is."

Pariah started filling the metal cups the others had put out. "Are you sure that's safe?"

Rowan considered the question and then said, "Yes, they don't seem to stick with me."

Lythienne said, "Are you sure it's wise? I mean, there is still the possibility we may need to use
them as fuel. That decision is going to be harder if they seem like people."

Farima said sharply, "That is exactly why it is good to know who they are. They should not be
dismissed as objects. I maintain my objection to using souls as fuel, but if we end up so desperate,
it is important that we appreciate the gravity of the decision."

Lythienne pursed her lips, but settled for chewing on a piece of bread rather than replying. After
she had swallowed a bite, she said with great reluctance, "Speaking of fuel, I guess it's my turn."

They were silent, and then Rowan said, "I don't want you to feel pressured. I see Farima's point
about the soul coins, but I also feel that each of us has to make our own decision to suffer that pain.
I can tell you, it is not something I would recommend."

Lythienne cocked her head as she looked at Rowan. "Would you do it again?"

Rowan vacillated, and then said, "I suppose so. I wouldn't want to do it every day, but I suppose I
can do it now and then."

Farima turned to look at the war machine. "In some ways, I suspect the second attempt will be
more difficult than the first. We know what to expect, and we know it is not something that can be
prepared for."

Lythienne looked at the machine as well. "Farima, it's been three days since you did it. Have the
effects worn off?"

Farima hesitated. "I am forced to admit that, no, they have not. I am on the mend, but the fatigue
and muscle aches persist." In a firmer voice, she added, "However, I am resolved to continue to use
my own life force to fuel the machine rather than subject souls to torture."

Lythienne gazed at the machine again. "Might as well get it over with," she sighed.

She rose to her feet. Pariah was surprised, having expected her to wait for the meal to be over, and
the others seemed to have been caught equally off guard. Lythienne had crossed half the distance to
the vehicle before any of them had even stood up.

They joined her as she climbed aboard. She stood before the tank and eyed the fueling rod
defiantly. "I need a moment," she said. She folded her hands, closed her eyes, and took a deep
breath. She held the breath and then slowly spilled it out through her teeth. She stood motionless
for several minutes, only occasionally taking another deliberate, slow breath.

Her face grew calm. Pariah could feel a serene energy coming from her as her muscles relaxed.
Finally, Lythienne opened her eyes and watched the metal rod without expression. She slowly
removed her right glove and reached her bare hand out to the rod. Her fingers wrapped around it
and her body remained still and calm.

Her scream took them all by surprise. Her body went from tranquil to iron-stiff in a flash. Her eyes
were locked on the rod and her jaw muscles stood out as she clenched her teeth. Seconds ticked by
and, after the first short scream, Lythienne made no sound other than a steady groan as she
 continued to hold on. Time passed and Pariah started to get worried. It seemed too long. Was she
unable to let go? Were her muscles locked as the machine pulled her life force away?

Pariah was about to pull her back when Lythienne abruptly released the rod and stepped back. All
three women moved to catch her, but Lythienne kept her feet. She stood there for long moments,
unmoving, still staring at the machine, and then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and hissed
it out between her teeth. The tension faded and her body relaxed.

She took two more slow breaths and then opened her eyes. She gave the others a weak smile.
"Well, then, shall we go?"

Chapter End Notes

The written encounter has two nycaloths, which is a pretty tough battle even during the
day. The problem is that since they ambush them at night, they get a round where
three of the PCs are prone and unconscious. I ran it and it was a disaster, so I ran it
with one nycaloth who summoned mezzoloths, and that worked out better.
 A Gentle Shower
Chapter Summary

The party tracks the Wandering Emporium across the wastelands of Avernus.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah took the first shift driving. The trail they were following eventually curved into the hills to
the right, and she was relieved when they never came within a mile of the army of devils she had
spotted. However, their path continued to take them in the direction of the dark clouds that
blanketed the sky. Below the clouds was a shadow that told her that rain was falling. Somehow,
she doubted it was going to be a refreshing spring shower.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much they could do about it short of going a few dozen miles out of
their way and losing the trail. They didn't know many people here in Avernus, and Mahadi still
seemed like their best bet for information about local creatures.

She pulled back the throttle a little as the clouds loomed large. She could see a line ahead where
the ground grew darker, wet from the rainfall. That sharp smell from earlier was strong now. It
wasn't the same as the smell of the lake of blood, so she hoped that meant they weren't about to be
drenched in gore. As the air started to sting her nose and eyes, she realized what the odor was: acid.

They crossed into the rain and she felt drops of water pattering gently down on her head and her
arms. The smell was strong now, choking the air and making it unpleasant to breathe. A drop got in
her mouth, stinging her tongue with a taste like strong vinegar. She snapped her lips shut and
lowered her head.

She heard one of the others cry out. She turned and saw Lythienne in the left harpoon station, bent
over with her hand over her face. Pariah slammed on the brake and brought the war machine to a
halt. "What is it?" she yelled out as she shut the engine off.

"I got some of the rain in my eye," Lythienne said in a pained voice. Pariah stood as the others
rushed over to help.

"We need some cover," said Farima as she helped Lythienne down to the main deck. Rowan pulled
a blanket out and Pariah helped her hold it over the other two women.

"Tilt your head back," Farima commanded. "Take your hand away. Quickly!" Lythienne hesitated
but followed her orders. Farima poured a little water into her hand from her waterskin, recited a
spell, and then upended her hand over Lythienne's face. A stream of water poured from her palm.
"Open your eyes," she said as she directed the flow to the bridge of Lythienne's nose.

Lythienne struggled to keep her eyes open as the water flushed the acid out. She finally said, "I'm
fine. I'm fine," as she pushed Farima's hand away. She tilted her head forward and looked at the
rest of the group. Her left eye was red and she blinked rapidly, but she seemed all right. Lulu
touched Lythienne's face gently with her trunk and the redness faded. Lythienne smiled at her
gratefully.
Pariah said, "I wish we'd kept our rain gear." They had left it behind in Candlekeep, reasoning it
wouldn't be needed in Avernus.

The rain was light but steady. Pariah felt an itching on her skin, but wasn't sure if it was the acid or
her own nerves. "Maybe we should bundle up with what we got," she suggested.

Rowan shook her head. "Our clothes will get soaked. I think that will just keep the acid next to our
skin. We probably just need to ride through this rain as quickly as we can." She looked ahead but
the light rain prevented much in the way of visibility. "I wish we knew how far this went."

"I wish we all had a pair of goggles," Pariah said, covetously eyeing Rowan's eyewear, which was
currently pushed up on her forehead. Pariah glanced at the cover on the back half of the war
machine. "Look, maybe the rest of you should stay under there," she pointed. "I'll drive. Maybe I
could wear the goggles to protect my eyes."

Rowan removed the goggles and handed them over. "You can try, but I've found it's too
disorienting. I can't turn off the far seeing."

Pariah looked at the goggles skeptically. "Yeah, that makes sense. Never mind then." She handed
the goggles back. "I'll wear my cloak and put the hood up." As she retrieved her cloak from her
satchel, she said, "Keep watch as best you can from the back." The view was obstructed so they
wouldn't see as well as they could from the harpoon stations, but it was the best they could do.

"All right," Rowan said reluctantly as she took the goggles back. "I'll take over after an hour. We
should rotate shifts better. And between Farima's spells and your jug, we can wash the acid off our
skins."

"Good plan," Pariah said, pulling her hood forward. "Let's get started."

As Pariah got the vehicle moving again, she saw that near-range visibility wasn't too bad, but it
dropped off quickly. The terrain was mostly flatland dotted with rocky hills of brown and black
stone, so she was able to get their speed up. She was still using her illusion clock, using her ability
to change her appearance to make a number appear on her hand. Once that faded, she called for
Rowan to take over.

It was actually Lythienne who came forward to relieve her. "Are you all right to drive?" Pariah
yelled over the roar of the engine.

"Yes. My vision is fine now. Rowan wanted to examine you."

Pariah relinquished the driver's seat to Lythienne and headed back. At Rowan's request, she
stripped and the other two women flushed her skin with water. She was relieved, since the itching
had turned to burning. Her skin was red, but the rinse took the sting away. She had another set of
clothes, but not another set of padding for her armor. They settled for squeezing as much of the
acid rain out as they could and she donned her protection again.

The patter of the rain continued steadily as another hour passed and Rowan took over for
Lythienne, who went through the same cleansing process. Pariah was glad they were all women;
this might have been awkward in mixed company.

They were more than halfway through Rowan's hour driving when the pace of the rain suddenly
increased, and the wind started to pick up. The acid-tainted drops blew in under the cover, and
there seemed to be no way to get away from them. The war machine started to buck as Rowan ran
over uneven ground, but then suddenly it skidded to a halt and Rowan cut the engine.
"There's a cave," Rowan yelled, pointing. "Let's wait this out in there."

Pariah debated the decision, but they had no idea how much further there was to go. Of course they
also had no idea how long the storm might last, and the Wandering Emporium was wandering ever
farther while they waited. As another gust of wind blew a spray of acid into her face, though
luckily not into her eyes, she decided that Rowan was right. They grabbed their backpacks and
satchels and headed towards the narrow opening in the hillside that Rowan had spotted.

They hurried through the acid rain and into the cave. Farima had already lit up her staff. However,
before Pariah could take in her surroundings, she was struck by the slight smell of rot. The faint
scent was almost lost in the acrid smell coming from the rain outside, but the odor brought her
sword into her hand. There was a corpse here, and that wasn't a sign this was a safe place.

The crack had opened up into an irregular space that was something between a cave and a tunnel.
The entrance widened into a space about eight feet across, but quickly narrowed to a tight squeeze
that went farther into the rocky hill. From here she could see a sliver of dim light that implied this
fracture cut through the entire hill. She looked up and the ceiling appeared to be solid and stable,
though it was hard to tell through the patches of dark mold that decorated the walls.

Rowan had brought out her driftglobe to add to the light from Farima's staff, and that's when they
spotted the source of the rotting smell. A decaying humanoid figure sat against a wall, a burned out
campfire in front of him and an open backpack nearby. He stared blankly into space and didn't
show any signs of lurching to his feet and attacking them.

"Why is it so cold?" Lythienne asked, rubbing her hands together and blowing on them. Pariah took
her eyes off the corpse to look at the others and could see clouds of condensation puffing from their
mouths. She wasn't bothered by low temperatures normally, but now that she was paying attention
she realized the air inside the cave felt like a winter's night in Baldur's Gate.

Lulu had taken a couple of steps towards the body and said, "Is it dead?"

"I'll check," Rowan said. Pariah went with her to examine the corpse, her sword still in her hand.
He wasn't human or any race she had seen before, but he didn't seem like a fiend either. He was
taller than a human and thin, though she didn't know if that was his normal look or a result of
starvation. His sleeveless robe revealed well-muscled arms, so she suspected he was simply lean
and fit. His head was long, his features angular, and his ears pointed and serrated. His skin was
yellow-green, though again she didn't know if that was his natural color or a result of decay. His
deep-set, dark eyes stared unseeingly towards the unlit fire. He was bald, with a well-kept, black
Van Dyke beard.

Rowan made a thoughtful noise as her hands carefully probed parts of his body. "I'm not sure since
he's not human, but I'd say he froze to death."

"Froze?" Lythienne asked in surprise. "It's cold, but it's not that cold."

Rowan shrugged as she climbed to her feet. "I might be wrong. Maybe he died from something else
and the cold preserved him." She rubbed her arms briskly. "Is it me or is it getting colder?"

Pariah looked over the remains of his fire. The dark mold had covered the wood but she doubted
that would affect its ability to burn. "It looks like there's enough wood to burn. Let me get that fire
going."

She reached out her hand and manipulated the temperature of the wood. Though much of her
magic involved cold, she could actually sort of push the cold out of things to light small flames,
like she had in the tunnels beneath the bathhouse. She couldn't do it on a large scale, but she was
pleased when a small flame appeared on one of the pieces of wood. She concentrated and it started
to spread.

The flame was extinguished as the brown mold surged forward and suffocated it. A pulse went
through the patch of mold and it spread, now covering the floor and creeping up her boots. Its
abrupt growth stopped, but the temperature dropped precipitously and now even Pariah could feel
it penetrating her skin and pulling the heat from her body.

"The mold!" she warned the others as she reflexively fell into a defensive position. She felt foolish
as she did -- what was a rapier going to do against fungus?

They all gathered back to back in the middle of the room. "We need to get out of here," Lythienne
said, her teeth chattering.

"Out to the acid?" Pariah said. "I'm not sure which is worse."

Rowan said, "The acid might be better. I can feel my energy being sapped." She held out a hand
and a radiant bolt came down from the ceiling, burning away a patch of mold but the surrounding
dark fuzz expanded to fill the gap.

Farima sent a barrage of magical bolts against the wall to the same effect -- it destroyed patches
that quickly regenerated. She said, "If fire feeds it, then perhaps cold harms it. Pariah, can you
try?"

Pariah didn't agree with her logic, but figured it was worth the attempt. The cold air was draining
her strength and she was starting to feel drowsy; she could only imagine how much worse it was
for the others. She held out a hand and sent a ray of frost towards the nearest patch. To her
surprise, the mold withered and died under the freezing attack, and the surrounding brown material
didn't rush to fill the space. "It's working!" she exclaimed.

She began spraying cold energy across the rock and the mold died under the frigid assault. She
shivered in the icy air, but she persisted. In a short time, she had cleared the local area and could
feel the temperature rising. It was still cold, but not dangerously so.

Pariah headed down the tunnel to seek out and destroy any more mold she could find. She spent a
few minutes scouring the rock of the cave until she could see no more dark brown patches. "I think
I got it all," she called back to the others.

She returned to the larger chamber. The others were standing near the entrance, warming
themselves in the current of air coming through. The rain was still coming down hard outside.
"Should we try the fire again?" she asked.

Nobody had an answer at first, but then Rowan said, "Let's not. The temperature isn't too bad now.
Let's enjoy the cool while we can. I don't want to take the chance that a few spores could
regenerate that mold. We probably shouldn't stay here longer than we need to."

Pariah's street instincts kicked in and she started going through the man's belongings. He had basic
travel supplies, including a few rations that were past their prime. Her eyes lit up as she pulled a
book out of his backpack. It had no title. She opened it and scanned the pages. There were several
diagrams of terrain among written observations, but she didn't recognize the language or even the
alphabet it was written in. Of course, that didn't prevent her from being able to read it.

"I think he was mapping Avernus," she said to the others. A lot of the writing was hard to follow;
she wondered if that was because the language was so alien it was hard for her gift to make sense
of it. Over her shoulder she asked, "Do any of you know what race he is?"

There was a mumble of negative answers. Lythienne asked, "Is there anything in that book?"

"Maybe," Pariah said, closing the book reluctantly. "I'll read it later." She held it out. "Do any of
you recognize the language?"

Lythienne, Rowan and even Lulu glanced at it but didn't know what it was. Farima studied it with
interest, flipping page after page. "I cannot identify the language or even the script. I would be very
curious what it says and who he was."

Pariah had continued looking through the backpack. "There's a bunch of scholar stuff in here," she
said. "Farima, you might be interested in it."

Farima looked up from the book. "I am unsure what you mean by 'scholar stuff' but I can take a
look." She exchanged the book for the backpack and hesitantly started removing and examining
the contents.

Pariah went back to reading the journal. After a minute or so, Rowan asked, "What's wrong?"

Pariah looked up, puzzled by the question, but realized she had been talking to Farima, who was
looking into the empty bag with a furrowed brow. The Calishite said, "It is odd. He has a quill but
no ink. No knife to sharpen the point. No spares." She picked up the object in question. "This is
quite finely made, and..." She trailed off, her frown deepening as she stared at the tip. She looked
around at the objects she had taken from the bag and took a blank sheet of paper. She used the quill
to draw a line on the paper and her eyes widened in surprise. She drew another line and another.

"What is it?" Rowan asked.

"How fascinating. This quill makes its own ink. I have never seen such a thing. It is quite a
wondrous invention." It was probably the most excited Pariah had ever heard her, like a child with
a toy. She wrote something on the paper and a smile started to spread on her face. "Quite
amazing," she breathed.

Pariah grinned at her response and then went back to the journal. Flipping through wasn't telling
her much so she went to the first entry. The writing was much more coherent here. The man had
set out to map Avernus. The journal started many weeks before as he prepared for the journey.

She was interrupted as Farima held out an object to her. "Can you read this?" the other woman
asked.

The object was a shallow silver bowl smaller than her palm. A short needle poked up from the
center. Around the edge of the bowl was an inscription in Infernal. Pariah read aloud, "Blood
points the way to Dis." She looked up in confusion. "What does that mean?

Farima took the object back and frowned at it. "I do not know. Dis is the second layer of Hell, as
Avernus is the first."

Pariah studied the bowl in Farima's hand. "Well, he was mapping Avernus," she said thoughtfully.
"Maybe this..." She trailed off as something occurred to her. "Wait, I've seen this."

She opened the journal and flipped through until she found what she was looking for: a drawing of
the bowl. "Here it is," she said as she started to read. "It's sort of a compass, but rather than
pointing north it points to Dis. It requires a drop of blood to work."
Rowan asked, "What good is that?"

Lulu piped up, "It's probably because the Outer Planes don't work like your world. Mortals get lost,
especially in the planes of Chaos. The planes of Order, like the Heavens or the Hells, are
organized, but not always in a way that makes sense to mortals."

Pariah raised her eyebrows as she stared at Lulu. That was a surprisingly insightful observation
from her. Farima asked, "How would knowing the direction to Dis help?"

"Well," Lulu said as she looked up contemplatively, "the Hells are all connected in order. You
have to go through them all to get to the last. The only part of Hell that Avernus connects to is Dis,
and Dis connects only to Avernus and Minauros, and so on. So maybe it's like Pariah said; it's like
a compass, but for Hell."

Rowan reached into her satchel. "So it would line up with the map?" she asked as she removed the
scroll.

Lulu shrugged. "I guess."

Rowan rolled out the map and reached out for the compass. Farima handed it to her reluctantly.
Rowan held it in her mechanical hand and pursed her lips. "So how does it work?" she asked
Pariah.

Pariah had continued reading. She looked up to say, "You just need a drop of blood. I don't think it
needs to be your blood, but you can prick yourself with the thing in the middle."

"That seems like a dangerous idea," Farima warned.

Rowan kept staring at the needle. She touched her holy symbol and mumbled, "Lady, protect me,"
and then she reached out her index finger. She touched the needle and almost instantly, a drop of
red appeared. Rowan pulled her finger away and sucked on it. The blood drop started moving
across the inside of the bowl towards the edge, leaving a faint red trail that faded almost
immediately. The drop perched on the lip of the bowl, near the inscription, and then hung there.
Rowan turned the bowl, and the drop flowed along the edge, always pointing in the same direction.
The drop got smaller as she watched, as though it was being absorbed into the metal. Within a
minute, it was gone.

"Well, that's useful," Rowan said hesitantly. "I'm not sure what direction that is on the map,
though. We need some kind of landmark to orient it, but I suppose it could make navigating
easier."

Lythienne had been watching the bowl with the others. She asked, "What about his map? You said
he was mapping Avernus. Did he achieve anything?"

Farima searched through the corpse's belongings and retrieved an partially unrolled parchment. "I
do not think so. See for yourself."

Lythienne took it from her and looked at what was documented there. "Oh," she said softly. "I see."

"What?" Pariah asked with interest. Lythienne turned the parchment to show her. It was filled with
scribbles. She could pick out lines that might have been the course of the River Styx, and a few
symbols that were probably mountains. However there were also crude faces with pointy teeth,
jagged lines that could have been flames, circles with dots, uneven squares and other shapes with
no indication what they meant. It looked like a picture drawn by a child. Notes were made in the
same language as the journal, scrawled in a shaky hand that made them hard to read. They said
 things like "winds of madness" and "go up to go down" and "WHAT IS THIS????" She could see
nothing in the diagram that would match their own map of Avernus. "Oh," she said, echoing
Lythienne's review of his work.

"Does the writing on the map help?" Lythienne asked.

Pariah shook her head. "No, the writing makes it even worse." She looked back at the book.
"Maybe there will be something in the journal," she said without hope.

That seemed to be all that was interesting in the man's possessions, so Pariah went back to
examining the journal. It was only observations on his mapping attempts, and never said who he
was or where he came from. It started off with a scholarly tone but over time became more
scattered and less coherent. There might be useful information in here, but it would be hard to make
sense out of lines like, "The hills are watching. I may have to travel the river to learn their secrets."

Rowan took the time to examine everyone in the group for the effects of both the brief but extreme
cold and the acid rain. The cold didn't seem to have left any damage, but they all had patches of red
and irritated skin that were itchy and sore. Pariah noticed that the writing over those patches on her
own skin was as clear as ever, undamaged by the acid.

The hard rain slowed after a couple of hours. It was still drizzling, but they decided it was worth
continuing their journey. The cave had become quite warm during this time, so everyone was in a
hurry to start moving. It wasn't any cooler outside, but at least they'd be making progress.

Lythienne took the wheel this time, and the grumbling iron machine's spiked wheels dug into the
red earth as it lurched forward into the falling acid rain.

Chapter End Notes

Farima clearly has worked in a chemistry lab because she knows proper eyewash
technique.

This encounter was something I spent far too much time coming up with as an excuse
to give them a couple more common magical items, both of my own creation. The
brown mold was never meant to be dangerous. I decided it was dormant and that it
wouldn't be a threat until it started to spread, at which point it was easy to kill. The
first item is a sort of planar compass that should make navigation a bit easier. The
need for a drop of blood seemed like an appropriately bizarre quirk. The other item is
an everwriting quill that never runs out of ink.

Dis as Avernian "north" comes from the remix.

 A Dry Shelter
Chapter Summary

The war machine drives through the rain of acid in search of the Wandering
Emporium.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"There it is," Pariah said into the earring as she drove the war machine over a ridge to see the
Wandering Emporium laid out before them along the banks of the River Styx. Her comment wasn't
so much a yell of enthusiasm as it was a sigh of relief. The acidic rain had never let up, and the
sore patches on her skin were getting worse even though all of them, even Farima, had taken shifts
driving. She was exhausted, but the group had agreed that it would be best to drive as long as they
could in the hopes of catching up.

The marketplace looked the same as it had before with one exception: it was roofed by some kind
of dome outlined by the rain that trickled down it. Pariah realized that the dome might actually
have been there during their last visit; perhaps it wasn't visible without the rainfall revealing its
shape.

It was a relief when they passed through the entrance under the protection of the dome and out of
the rain. Pariah pulled next to three other war machines that were already parked, and she cut the
engine. The sound of the engine died, and she could hear only the gentle patter of raindrops on the
invisible roof of the Emporium. It might have been soothing if she wasn't so tired, hungry, achy and
itchy.

The others looked as bad as she felt. Their faces were haggard, their hair hung limp, and their
clothes were disheveled and showed signs of wear from the barrage of acid drops. They silently
gathered up their luggage and dismounted the war machine. Pariah winced when a familiar voice
called out in a jovial tone, "Hello, my friends. You have returned!"

She turned and forced a weak smile at Mahadi. "You’re a hard man to find," she said.

"But always there when you need me," he assured her. "My, my, you have all clearly had a terribly
exhausting journey. Please, come to the Infernal Rapture and enjoy a refreshing bath or massage to
soothe the aches from your travels."

Rowan said, "No, I think we'll head for the Bed of Bones, thank you."

Mahadi looked disappointed. "My dear Lythienne, surely you will honor me with your presence.
You can appreciate the value we offer weary guests."

Pariah turned a worried face towards the elven woman. She would be more vulnerable now and it
wouldn't be a good idea for her to subject herself to their host's manipulations. Pariah was pleased
when Lythienne gave Mahadi a grateful nod and then said, "Not right now, I think. Perhaps later."
Her tone implied perhaps not later.
"Of course, of course," he said. "The Infernal Rapture is always open, and offers even more
delights than you can imagine. Are there any other courtesies the Emporium can offer? Salon
services? Maintenance for your war machine? Soothing alchemical concoctions?"

The group had already started to walk towards the Bed of Bones. Pariah wanted to tell Mahadi to
get lost, but knew that probably wasn't smart. Lythienne said, "I think a meal for now while we
consider our next options," in a tone that implied the "get lost" part, but more diplomatically.

"Of course, of course," Mahadi said again. "Ragrom offers fine cuisine. Fine cuisine."

Pariah managed to avoid snorting in derision, but a thought did occur to her. She nodded in the
direction of Ichor's Aweigh. "Does the tentacle guy sell stuff that wizards might want? You know,
dragon hearts and devil pinkies and stuff like that."

"The esteemed alchemist Elliach the Wise," Mahadi replied with the barest hint of rebuke in his
tone, "typically sells finished potions and tonics. However, he may be convinced to part with his
reagents if you offer him something he wants. Anything you can imagine is available here for the
right price."

Pariah felt like that last line was directed at Lythienne, and certainly the elven woman seemed to be
affected by it. Pariah said firmly, "Thank you. We'll remember that." They had arrived at the
entrance to the tent. Pariah stepped between Mahadi and Lythienne and gave him the friendliest
smile she could manage in her exhaustion. "See you later."

Mahadi bowed graciously, but didn't walk away. As they filed into the Bed of Bones, he watched
them politely right up to the point where the tent flap closed.

Two of the tables were already occupied. Three scaly devils sat on stools at one table, tearing into
the carcass of some creature Pariah didn't recognize. From the amount of blood dripping to the
ground, Pariah gathered the meat was raw. Their skin was dark green, almost black. They had
large wings on their backs and long tails that whipped around. Their elongated snouts bore the
sharp teeth of a carnivore. Pariah didn't recognize the species, but they reminded her of the white-
skinned devil they had seen in the High Hall crypts.

At the other table, three gray-skinned duergar and two goblins eyed the newcomers over their
mugs. A large-headed, hairless rodent about two feet long was curled up under the table, sleeping.
One of the two female duergar puffed on a pipe, and the smoke smelled like sulfur and tar.

Ragrom was there, his angry glare contrasting his bright, festive clothes and forced smile.
Shyntraen came scurrying up to take their order as they seated themselves around one of the open
tables, and he dared give them the barest of a welcoming smile. Pariah decided to stick with the
Abyssal chicken skewers, since they hadn't made her sick before. No reason to experiment. The
food and beer was nasty as usual, but it filled her belly and that helped her mood a little. However,
she was exhausted and her skin still burned a bit from the lingering effects of the acid. "Should we
go see the alchemist now or wait until we've slept?"

Farima carefully crossed her knife and fork on her mostly empty plate. "I think it might be best to
meet him when we are fresh. I, for one, would like to see if Burney the Barber can offer some
refreshing treatments. Perhaps she has some balms for our skin."

"That's a good idea," Pariah nodded. In fact, that sounded very tempting to her now.

Rowan was putting a finger through a hole in her sleeve. "Why don't we start with a change of
clothing? I can get to work mending the acid damage. I might go see the barber later."
"Lythienne?" Pariah asked.

The woman was eying the stage. "I think I might stay here a bit longer. See if I can raise the spirits
of this irritable crowd."

"Good luck," Pariah chuckled. She didn't like the idea of Lythienne being left alone in this place,
so she said, "Rowan could do her mending work here. Keep you company."

Lythienne was running her fingers through her hair, trying to get it under control. "You would be
welcome, of course," she said to Rowan.

"I want to see Burney again," Lulu said with excitement. Pariah was curious what Lulu knew about
the barber, but hadn't pressed the issue.

The group retired to the war machine. Nobody was around so they were able to change clothes with
a modicum of privacy. Pariah and Rowan decided to leave their armor off. Mahadi seemed strict
about the "no fighting" policy, and the air on their skin was refreshing after the rain.

Speaking of which, the drops continued to pelt the magical field over the Emporium, and the acrid
air made Pariah's eyes smart just a little. It occurred to her that they'd have to go out into the rain if
Rowan wanted to do her nightly prayer service.

Rowan took their clothes and accompanied Lythienne back to the Bed of Bones. Lulu, Farima and
Pariah made their way to the barber's tent, and she saw Burney standing by her chair as usual.
Pariah found herself wondering if the woman ever rested. They entered the tent, and the faint smell
of incense chased away the sharp smell of the caustic weather.

Pariah stepped out of the tent, feeling invigorated. The itching and stinging of her skin was gone.
She ran a hand through her hair to find it was washed and trimmed, and smelled faintly of lilac.
She realized she even had a thin layer of wax on her horns. Farima also looked clean and refreshed,
and Lulu just seemed smug. However, again Pariah had no memory of what had just happened.

She pursed her lips and turned to look back inside the tent. "That's very weird," she called out to
Burney, "but thank you." The woman simply gave her a secretive smile in return.

Pariah looked over at Ichor's Aweigh and saw that the sign was dark, and there was a rope across
the entrance. She assumed that meant the place was closed, so they returned to the Bed of Bones to
find Lythienne using her illusions to entertain the crowd with a story. Pariah didn't recognize the
tale, which was currently depicting a group of duergar fighting a nightmarish humanoid with black
skin, a bald head, and tentacles around his mouth.

Rowan was sitting at a table, the group's clothing laid out before her. As Pariah watched, Rowan
touched a tear in a shirt, murmured a prayer, and the fabric sealed itself back together. She looked
up and smiled as the others entered. "You all look like you enjoyed your visit."

"I guess so," Pariah said as they joined her. "I just wish we remembered it."

Farima rested her chin in her hand and stared towards the illusionary play without focusing on it.
"We asked her about the things Mordenkainen wanted," she said uncertainly. "She had no insight, I
believe."

"Yeah, that sounds right," Pariah said, feeling her frustration growing. Even if Burney wasn't an
enemy, Pariah didn't like any magic that interfered with her own thoughts and choices. Perhaps she
wouldn't be going back to the barber's shop in the future, at least until she knew more.
Rowan said, "I got our tent. Do we want to rest now or later? And by 'now' I mean once Lythienne
is finished."

Pariah watched the elven woman, who was intent on her performance, a faint sheen of sweat on her
brow from the intensity of controlling the illusion. "I'm not sure she's going to be finished anytime
soon," she said. "She seems to be enjoying herself too much."

Rowan gave the shirt she had been working on a critical inspection, ensuring she hadn't missed any
damage. "We could always rest ourselves and let her keep performing. She doesn't need as much
rest as we do anyhow."

Pariah was adamant that Lythienne should not be left alone in this place, though she wasn't going to
tell the others why. She settled for saying, "I'm not sure it's a good idea to split up."

Rowan shrugged as she moved onto the next piece of clothing.

They spent another two hours in the place. Lythienne tried telling a story, but no one spoke either
Common or Elven so she quickly changed to other entertainments that included a juggling act with
knives borrowed from the kitchen, and a balancing act with chairs that Pariah was convinced must
involve some kind of magic.

Pariah saw the duergar and goblin playing a card game so she asked if she could join; two of the
duergar spoke Infernal so they were able to communicate. It was a bluffing game and she was good
at those, especially with her devil's sight, though she didn't want to win enough that they decided to
ignore the no fighting rule. At least two of them were cheating so it wasn't hard for her to lose a
little bit of money.

Lythienne eventually grew tired and they decided to rest for the night. The acid rain was still
drizzling but they decided to duck outside the protective dome long enough for Rowan to do a
quick group prayer. Then they erected their tent behind the Bed of Bones and settled in for a rest.

Their night passed like the last time they had slept there. The nightmares were still there, but muted
like someone shouting through a wall. Despite sleeping well, Pariah was still tired when she woke
up. The long time in the Hells was taking something out of her.

They exited the tent to find the rain was still falling, leaving a sharp tang in the air. They went to
the Bed of Bones for another unsatisfying breakfast while they discussed their plan for the day.
Rowan wanted to work with the strange compass they had. She thought she might be able to use
the flow of this stretch of the River Styx to correlate the orientation of the compass with a direction
on the map. Pariah wanted to go see the alchemist. Lulu didn't want to be around "the icky man" so
offered to help Rowan, while the other two decided to go with Pariah.

She was glad to see that the sign outside the alchemist tent was lit up. She entered into the musty
atmosphere of the tent to find it looked much the same as before. Lythienne looked around the
unexpectedly large space and said, "Just once, I want to see something magic that is smaller on the
inside."

Farima's staff lit up, adding some illumination to the area. Pariah realized that, though the dim
interior wasn't a problem for her, it would probably be difficult for human eyes. The robed
proprietor faced them and the light from Farima's staff seeped under his hood, giving Pariah a
better view of the lower half of his face. His skin tone looked human but with a grayish tinge. His
lips were thin and, as he spoke, she got a glimpse of small, yellow teeth.

"Do you have more demon ichor to sell?" he asked in a voice like crackling paper. Pariah realized
that she had mentally changed pronouns. During her last visit, she had thought of the figure as an
"it", a mysterious robe containing hidden secrets. The glimpse of a chin and a mouth somehow
promoted the proprietor to a "him".

"No," she said, remembering to face him when she spoke. "We were wondering if you sold any of
the items on this list." She looked at Lythienne, who was already handing over the parchment they
had gotten from Mordenkainen. The elven woman didn't flinch as the nest of tentacles snaked out
of the sleeve before her. Pariah had warned them of the strangeness of the shopkeeper.

The proprietor -- Elliach, she reminded herself -- brought out tentacles from his other sleeve and
unrolled the scroll. He studied it and then hissed, "These are rare and expensive reagents. No
alchemist is going to offer these for sale at any price."

"Oh, I see," Pariah said in disappointment.

Lythienne reached out for the scroll, but he was still studying it. He rasped, "However, I may know
where you can find some of these things. I think we can come to an arrangement."

"What kind of arrangement?" Pariah asked suspiciously.

"I know where you can go to gather these materials yourself. I can provide the information and
tools you will need. In return, you agree to give me half of everything you recover." He rolled up
the parchment. "If you survive."

He handed the list back to Lythienne. Pariah asked, "If we survive?"

"Gathering such materials is dangerous. That is why they are in such demand. I know of a source,
but I lack the ability to gather them myself." He was already walking to one of the tables in the
back.

"What source?" she asked. He said nothing. "What source?" she repeated more loudly, but he was
still silent. He had reached the table and opened a small coffer. He removed a sheet of paper,
closed the coffer, and then started to walk back to them.

"Why won't you answer?" she demanded. "What source?"

Elliach stopped and cocked his head. "My apologies," he rasped. "You must face me when you
speak."

"I was facing you," she said.

"And I must face you as well."

"Why?" What kind of nonsense was this?

Farima put up a hand, and Elliach turned to her. She asked, "Pardon me, but are you deaf?"

He nodded. "I am. After an unfortunate lab accident, my ears detached themselves and flew away."
He closed the gap between them and handed the paper to Pariah.

Pariah took it automatically. "Oh," she said, feeling guilty that she had gotten angry at him. "I
didn't realize. I'm sorry."

"Do not be fooled," he warned her. "My senses are sharp. Many have made the mistake of
assuming my impairment makes me easy prey. Every one of them has died."
 "Fair enough," Pariah said as she looked down at the paper. She became nervous when she
realized it was a contract. "What is this?"

"It is a standard agreement I use with my collectors. You put down one soul coin as collateral. I
give you information on a collection opportunity. If you survive the collection effort, you give me
half of everything you gather, after Mahadi's fee is deducted from the total. I will return the soul
coin upon the completion of the transaction."

Pariah's suspicion grew. "Mahadi's fee?"

"His magic enforces this contract. He takes a 10% fee. We split the remainder."

Farima sniffed in distaste. "I am uncomfortable with this arrangement if Mahadi is involved."

Pariah tended to agree. "Are there any souls involved?"

"As I stated, one soul coin will be put down as collateral," he said with a hint of irritation.

"I mean are our souls involved?"

He shook his head. "No. There will be a magical compulsion that will force you to live up to the
deal upon your return to the Wandering Emporium. Failure to do so will result in a permanent ban.
However, while you are under this compulsion, you will have the benefit of always know the
direction of and distance of this place."

Lythienne said softly, "That would have been helpful over the last couple of days."

Pariah wasn't satisfied. She scanned the contract again but the writing was small and the verbiage
confusing. It would require some study. "We want to take the time to read this over," she said.

He shrugged. "Very well. Return when you are prepared to agree to the deal. We will take the
contract to Fhet'Ahla for formal signature. Will there be anything else?"

Pariah thought about that and then said, "I don't think so," with a look at the others. They both
shook their heads, so she said, "We'll look this over and come back."

They exited the tent, leaving behind the stench of demon ichor for the sharp smell of acid rain.

Chapter End Notes

I spent a long time coming up with a way to link to the next part, where they gather
reagents for Mordenkainen. Avernus as a Sandbox has a simple "go here and kill this
thing" but I wanted it to be a bit more complex. I found Hamund's Harvesting
Handbook, which contains a detailed list of all the monster parts you can harvest
ranging from aarakocra feathers to zombie juice, along with rules on how difficult
harvesting is, and a bunch of new magic items that can be crafted from them.
 A Business Agreement
Chapter Summary

The adventurers peruse the contract offered by the alchemist, Elliach.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah closed the cartographer's journal in frustration. His writing had been clear, if a bit dull, in
the beginning but had become increasingly disjointed over time. By the halfway point, she could
barely make sense of the entries. She had tried to correlate some of his descriptions with the map
they had but to no avail. The only useful information she had gotten so far was a standard set of
directions. Disward was the direction of the plane of Dis, the same direction the compass showed.
Contra-Dis was the opposite. Abyssward was the direction the River Styx flowed from, which
eventually led to the Abyss; this was roughly to the right as you faced Disward, or "east" to
Disward's "north". Contra-Abyss was the opposite direction.

She had also tried to make sense of the scribbles of the cartographer's map but they seemed like
simple nonsense.

Meanwhile, Rowan had been able to use the local stretch of the River Styx and a mountain in the
distance to sight the compass, and it turned out that Disward pointed to the top of their own map.
That made a certain sense, and would be useful in future navigation.

Pariah felt useless right now. She looked across the table at Farima, who was bent over the contract
they had gotten from Elliach, making notes with her new everwriting quill. Pariah had been excited
to look over the document, but she couldn't fathom the writing. It was similar to her experience at
Candlekeep: the words made sense, but the overall meaning was too convoluted. She had
reluctantly turned the contract over to Farima, whose academic background allowed her to interpret
the complex language.

"Making any progress?" Pariah asked, surprising herself with the annoyance in her voice.

Farima was so engrossed in her study that she didn't seem to notice Pariah's tone. "Yes, I believe I
have a good handle on this." She finished the note she was making and then put down the quill,
leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling of the Bed of Bones tent.

Rowan, Lythienne and Lulu were sitting at an adjacent table, but they stopped their conversation
and turned to listen to what Farima had to say. "There are a number of provisions and clauses that
we shall have to be wary of," Farima began, adopting her lecture tone, "but the core of the contract
is this. He will provide information on the location of a creature, and instructions on how to harvest
useful reagents from its corpse. Whatever we gather will be divided when we next return to the
Wandering Emporium, 10% to Mahadi, 45% to Elliach, and 45% to us."

Farima lowered her gaze to take in the group. "However, this applies to not only the materials
harvested from the creature, but anything of value we acquire from the time we leave the
Wandering Emporium until the time we return."
Pariah drummed her fingers on the crude wooden surface of the table. "I'm not sure I like that."

Farima shrugged. "I suppose it is a provision to encourage the signees to return as quickly as
possible rather than go gallivanting across Avernus on treasure hunts."

"Is that all?" Rowan asked.

Farima shook her head, her short brown hair bouncing slightly as she did. "He will provide us with
a companion of some sort. I gather it is something like a familiar. He will be able to watch us
through the companion. We must not intentionally harm or abandon the companion, though we are
not required to protect it from the actions of others."

Worse and worse, Pariah thought. "I'm not sure I like that either."

"I, too," Farima agreed. She glanced down at her notes. "As he said, we will submit to a magical
enchantment that will compel us to follow this contract. The enchantment will automatically dispel
upon completion of the transaction."

Pariah didn't bother saying that was another point she didn't like.

Farima continued, "However, there is no mention of souls, other than the soul coin collateral. The
coin will be returned to us upon completion of the contract. There is also language to the effect that
he carries no liability if we are injured or killed while under this contract, and a few other points
that aren't worth mentioning at present."

They were silent as they digested all of this information, the only sound in the tent being the slap of
cards from the next table where the duergar and goblins were gambling again. Finally, Rowan said
to Farima, "Do you think we should sign this contract?"

Farima put her hands behind her head and looked up at the ceiling again. "Though I am loathe to
enter into any formal agreement in this dread plane, I will reluctantly admit that the transaction
seems reasonable. I have pored over the text for hidden terms or double meanings but I have found
no surprises other than the ones I mentioned. I believe it is a straightforward contract." She
grimaced. "Yes, I believe this may be our best path forward."

Pariah said, "Good enough for me." Farima seemed like the one most likely to object, so if she
agreed then Pariah was inclined to trust her opinion. The others seemed to concur. "Well, then let's
go. The sooner we start, the sooner we are done."

They stopped by Ichor's Aweigh, and Elliach seemed pleased that they had accepted his offer. He
took them next door saying that Fhet'Ahla was able to notarize contracts and make them official.
Pariah was a little surprised to find Mahadi waiting for them, but realized that he probably had his
eye on everything that happened in his domain. They each signed, and Pariah felt a spark of pride
that she was able to scrawl her own name rather than just make an X. Then Elliach signed, Mahadi
put his signature at the bottom, and Fhet'Ahla stamped it with a seal. As the devil lifted the seal
from the paper, Pariah felt magical energy wash over her. Good or bad, the agreement had been
made. They followed Elliach back to his shop. Pariah was pleased to see that the rain had finally
stopped.

As they entered the alchemist shop, Elliach rasped, "I must perform one more task. Please place
your soul coin on the table."

Rowan pulled a soul coin from her bag and placed it where she was told. She had been carrying
them since she seemed to be the least affected. Pariah didn't know which one it was. She wondered
if it was the one they had gotten from the nycaloth, which Rowan had said held the soul of a fire
giant king who had started a war to slaughter or enslave all of the smaller races. He believed he
was in his throne room, but the fires were unlit and he kept shouting for his servants to bring more
wood.

Meanwhile, Elliach went to another table that contained a crude clay humanoid figure and a
jeweled dagger that looked quite valuable to Pariah's greedy urchin eyes. He grabbed the dagger in
his tentacles and extended his other "hand" until she could see his forearm. He slashed the blade
across his wrist and dripped his blood onto the figure. Pariah wasn't too shocked when the figure
started to move.

As it stood, it took on a more definite form. It was small, maybe as tall as her forearm was long. It
had the wings and ears of a bat, but the slit eyes and claws of a feline, and the dull brown, scaly
skin of a desert lizard. It stretched and then locked eyes with Elliach. They stared at each other for
a time, then it turned to study the others with its yellow eyes.

Lulu whispered, "I don't like it. It reminds me of Jezebel."

Elliach turned to them. "This is my agent and will accompany you on your journey."

Pariah studied the thing. The feeling it gave off was a faint echo of the same feeling she got from
Elliach himself. "What's his name?" She paused. "Her name? Its name?"

Elliach's hood cocked inquisitively. "It is a thing. A tool. It does not have a name any more than
this dagger has a name."

Farima bent over to study it in the light of her staff. "I believe this is a homunculus. And he is
correct. It is a construct, sort of an extension of his own self."

The creature or construct or whatever made Pariah uncomfortable. It had an alienness to it that she
found disturbing. "So where are we going?"

He folded his arms and said, "The information I am about to give you should not be repeated to
anyone. That is for your own safety. There are those who might stop you if they know your
destination."

"All right," she said uncertainly.

"If you follow the River Styx downstream, you will come to a tributary branching off on this side
of the river. If you follow that, you will find it flows through a canyon and into a small lake of
thick, green sludge. This is the Pit of Shummrath, and that is where you will find your prey.

"Shummrath is a pit fiend imprisoned by Bel for reasons unknown. He has been in this pit for
centuries, constantly awash in the waters of the River Styx. Those waters have caused him to
dissolve. The green sludge is Shummrath, and even retains sentience though not much memory."

"You want the sludge?" Pariah asked. That seemed suspiciously easy.

She wasn't surprised when Elliach shook his head. He pointed a tentacle towards one wall of the
tent. "Go to the forge and buy at least five shattersticks -- magical explosives. I have studied the
walls of the canyon and have deduced that shattersticks placed at certain points will cause a
collapse, damming the river's flow. I will direct placement through my homunculus. The pit will
drain into the series of waterfalls downstream, and Shummrath will regenerate to his previous form
in thirty to forty hours. Then you will kill him and harvest the resources we both need."
Again, Pariah felt like killing a single creature seemed too easy. Her suspicion was confirmed when
Lulu exclaimed, "You want us to kill a pit fiend?"

Elliach nodded.

Pariah could hear the shock in Lulu's voice. It was Rowan who asked, "And that's a problem?"

"Well, yeah," Lulu said. "Pit fiends are big and scary and terrible. They are the worst devils, well
other than the archdevils. I mean I kill devils and demons and I'm not scared of the stupid things,
but even Zariel used to think twice before facing a pit fiend."

Lythienne turned back to Elliach and said, "If this devil is so close and so easy to reach, why
haven't you done this?"

"As your companion says, pit fiends are powerful foes. I would not be strong enough to kill him."

"And you think we are?"

The robe made a movement than Pariah realized was a shrug. Elliach said nothing else.

"No," Pariah said. "He just doesn't lose anything if we die trying, but gains a lot if we succeed."

Again, Elliach remained silent.

Rowan said, "If pit fiends are that bad, maybe we should look for another answer."

This time, the alchemist did speak. "You may choose to ignore the task, but the contract still holds.
I am entitled to my portion of your acquisitions until the contract is complete."

Pariah said, "Is that right, Farima?"

"Blast," the other woman said. "Yes, he is correct. I saw that part of the contract, but I did not
realize our prey would be something so powerful. Should we fail, he keeps the soul coin so still
makes a profit."

"Talona's tits," Pariah grated. To Elliach, she said, "Do you really think we have a chance?"

She heard a breathy sigh come from inside the hood. "The key is to choose your moment. If you
wait until he has fully regenerated, then you are unlikely to succeed. If you attack too early, then
his body will be unformed and you will not gain useful items. You must attack when he has
become solid but before he has regained his full strength. My construct will be with you and I can
signal when I feel it is a good time to collect the samples."

That wasn't much of a chance, but it was something. She said to the others, "My guess is that
everything else on that list is going to be just as hard. If this was easy, Mordenkainen and this guy
would just do it themselves rather than finding idiots like us."

Elliach's tone was gently scolding when he said, "It is to my benefit that you succeed. I know of
numerous more dangerous opponents. This is the one I suggested because it is the best chance that
we all profit."

Rowan was sitting on the ground, spinning coins. She studied the coins and says, "Lady Luck has
no opinion. Well, at least she's not telling me this is certain death. That implies we have a chance."

Pariah cast an eye up to the indifferent gods and then said, "I say we try."
Rowan gathered up her coins and stood. "I agree. Let's at least go look."

Lulu exclaimed, "Yeah, let's go stomp that thing!" with both excitement and worry in her voice.

Gloomily, Farima said, "We are trapped in this arrangement due to my poor counsel. I agree we
should at least make the attempt."

"Not your fault," said Lythienne. She hesitated, looking over the rest of the group, and then said,
"But very well. If you all want to go, I will go along."

Elliach reached inside his robe and withdrew a pamphlet. He held it out. Pariah saw the writing and
moved forward to take it. "What's this?"

"Instructions on how to properly butcher a pit fiend. In addition to the blood you are looking for, I
have uses for the venom, claws, and wings. And if you could manage to remove the head intact, it
would be worth more than everything else combined."

"How hard is it to remove a head?" Pariah asked, puzzled.

"More so than you might think, since the brain and nerve bundles must be preserved. You will see
the complex steps required in the instructions."

Pariah glanced down at the pamphlet but this wasn't the time to study it. "And how do we split a
single head?"

Rather than Elliach, it was Farima who answered. "The contract contains provisions for
determining value and assigning shares appropriately."

Pariah wasn't optimistic, but she didn't see that they had much of a choice. The plan seemed simple
but dangerous. "Should we leave now?" she asked the others. It was still early, the equivalent of
mid-morning.

Rowan asked Elliach, "How far is it?"

"By war machine, about six hours."

Rowan turned to the group. "I say we go now. It sounds like we could get there and collapse the
canyon before we go to sleep. Then we watch and wait, choosing the time to attack."

Nobody had any objections. Rowan said, "Why don't some of you go buy the...shattersticks?" She
said the last word with a questioning look to Elliach. He nodded. She continued, "I'll stay here and
get more specific directions about how to find this pit."

Farima and Lulu stayed with her, while Pariah and Farima left to go to the forge. As they walked
over, Pariah said, "What do you think about this?"

Farima put her hands behind her back as the walked slowly down the main path of the Emporium.
"I fear we may have made a blunder in signing that contract. I was so pleased there was no mention
of souls that I didn't think about other ways we could be deceived."

Pariah considered that point as they reached the forge. "Well, I'm usually the one who doesn't trust
anyone, and I was just as willing to sign as the rest of you. Done is done. All we can do is keep
going."

"I suppose so," Farima sighed.

The heat of the forge, so much greater than the heat of Avernus, always took Pariah by surprise.
One of the salamanders looked up from the weapon he was working on. Pariah yelled over the roar
of the flames and clanging of metal, "We want to buy some shattersticks."

It continued hammering the glowing metal and then doused it in a bucket. It barked, "Ten chits
each. How many?"

Pariah had been planning to buy ten, double the number needed, but the price was higher than she
had expected. "Seven," she shouted back.

He growled an order to one of the lava creatures in a language she didn't recognize. It scurried off
to a box and retrieved seven blue iron stakes. By the time it brought them over to Pariah, she had
counted out the chits. It dropped the metal stakes at her feet, cupped its hands for the money, and
then headed off.

Farima had already picked up one of the shattersticks. Pariah picked up another. It was
surprisingly heavy. It looked like it was just a spike of metal with no magical writing or anything
else. She called out to the salamander, "How do these work?"

He gave her a look of annoyance and then said, "Stick it in the ground, hit it with a hammer, run
away, boom."

"How long before the boom?"

"A count of about fifty."

She looked over the spike again as she considered his instructions. She wondered how far apart the
spikes would need to be and how that would affect their ability to set them off. They'd have to plan
carefully when they reached the site.

She gathered up the shattersticks and headed back to Elliach's tent. The others were just coming out
as they arrived. "Come on," Rowan said, jerking her head down the path. The homunculus was
standing on her shoulder, and Lythienne was carrying a leather sack she hadn't had before.

"What's in the bag?" Pariah asked Lythienne as she fell into step.

Lythienne was eying the homunculus suspiciously and didn't look over at Pariah as she said, "They
are the tools we'll need to harvest materials from the devil."

Rowan led the group to their war machine. There, out of easy sight of anyone else, Rowan rolled
out their map. She looked it over, humming thoughtfully. "Okay, I see it. And he's right; it's not
that far. It should be an easy trip." As she rolled up the map, she said, "Well, as easy as anything
gets. But we should probably leave right away."

Farima stood and looked towards the central tank, determination on her face. "Before we can do
that, we must fuel up this machine. It is my turn again."

"No," said Lulu timidly. "It's my turn. You all went. It's my turn."

Farima turned to look at the hollyphant. "Are you certain? It is an awful experience, and none of us
should be pressured into it."

"It's all right. I'm tough," Lulu assured them, no confidence in her tone. She flew up and landed on
top of the tank. "Here goes," she said as she squeezed her eyes shut and reached out her trunk.
 She wrapped her trunk around the rod and everyone froze. Nothing happened. After a moment,
Lulu opened one eye. She pulled on the rod. She released it and grabbed it again. Both eyes were
open now. She tapped the rod with the tip of her trunk. "I think it's broken," she said.

Farima studied the metal sticking out from the fuel tank. "I am not sure whether to hope you are
correct or not. It is possible your celestial nature makes you unable to provide the soul energy
needed." She took a deep breath and released it. "Let me try." She reached out.

Her body tensed the moment her hand touched the metal, and her fingers wrapped rigidly around
the shaft. Her lips peeled back as a groan of pain spilled out from between clenched teeth. The
volume and pitch of her groan rose towards a scream, when she abruptly released the rod and
staggered back. They all rushed forward to steady her.

"It is not broken," she forced out. "I believe we can be on our way."

Chapter End Notes

The planar directions all come from the remix. As mentioned last chapter, the
butchery comes from Hamund's Harvesting Handbook.
 A Dammed River
Chapter Summary

The group drives along the shores of the River Styx towards the Pit of Shummrath.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The sky had gone back to being cloudless and the rain was long gone. Pariah hadn't realized how
much the rain had cooled the air. Not that she would have preferred the acid, but the temperature
was back up to its normal level and the searing wind sucked her energy out as she tried to pay
attention to the surrounding landscape from her perch at the harpoon station.

Whoever had designed Avernus didn't have much of an imagination, she decided. Or at the very
least, his favorite color was red. Red sky. Red land. Even the occasional scrubby bush seemed to
be tinged with red. The gray stripe of the River Styx to their right was the only break in the
monocolor scheme of this plane.

They had seen occasional creatures or war machines, but never close enough to be a threat. About
an hour ago, Pariah had seen a barge coming towards them, moving slowly upstream in the
shallow waters along the other shore. The vessel's sole occupant had been a gaunt, robed figure
that pushed the boat along with a long pole. He hadn't even turned to look at them as they passed.
She had seen no other river traffic.

"There is something ahead," Farima's voice came from the earring. "It looks like wrecked war
machines. We might wish to steer to the left to avoid them."

Pariah looked ahead and saw something along the banks of the river, but it was too far away to
make out any details. Farima was wearing the goggles so was able to see better. Pariah asked, "Any
movement?"

Farima leaned slightly forward over the railing at the other harpoon station, as though those few
inches would make a difference, and then said, "I do not believe so."

"I say we check it out," Pariah said. "We might find useful equipment, like that quill you got."
Pariah really was more interested in chits or, if they were lucky, soul coins, but she knew Farima
would scoff at that idea.

Farima didn't take the bait. "I don't think we should divert from our mission."

"Let's at least drive by. It'll take a couple of minutes."

Lythienne said, "We might want to stop and change drivers anyhow. I'm getting a little tired."

Rowan added, "And have a meal."

"Very well," Farima said reluctantly.

Pariah focused her attention forward. Not only was she interested in what was ahead, she also
wondered if wrecked war machines could hide an ambush. She admitted to herself that Farima was
probably right, it wasn't worth stopping, but her greed often got the better of her.

The homunculus had taken up a station on the very front of the war machine, on the frame above
the clamping metal jaws. He had sat there, unmoving, throughout their journey like some kind of
figurehead. She wondered what, if anything, went through his mind. It might be more correct to say
"its mind", but his humanoid form made it hard for her to think of their passenger as a thing.

As they got closer, Pariah was tempted to ask for the goggles, but she figured she see everything
soon enough. Farima was watching ahead but also keeping an eye to the side. The river ran along
Pariah's side of the vehicle, and the chance of an attack from that direction seemed unlikely.

Pariah could finally make out the shapes of the war machines. One was on its side, and the other
was upright but at an odd angle. She was trying to pick out more details, when Farima said, "I see
several bodies. Let us be careful."

Now that she was looking for it, Pariah could see several shapes around the vehicles. She had
thought they were large rocks, but she took Farima's word for their true identity.

Lythienne slowed down as they neared and their vehicle crawled forward towards the wrecks. Both
war machines were smaller than theirs, and both were heavily damaged. Armor plating was torn
off. The upright vehicle was missing a wheel, and there was a gash torn into its fuel tank. The other
didn't seem as damaged, but Pariah imagined it was pretty useless lying on its side like that.

Among the wreckage lay at least six bearded devils and two barbed devils. From the condition of
the bodies and the smell, she estimated they'd been dead a couple of days.

Lythienne stopped the war machine and cut the engine. The instant she did, the homunculus
jumped to the ground and scurried towards the tipped vehicle. It crawled among the machinery
underneath it, inspecting each piece carefully.

"Let's go," Lulu whined. "This place is stinky."

Pariah was already climbing to the ground. "Lets take a quick look first." She immediately noticed
there were no weapons by the bodies, and that made her think the area had been picked clean. Still,
it was worth taking a look.

Lythienne and Rowan joined her, though neither showed much enthusiasm. Pariah quickly
confirmed she was right: none of the bodies seemed to have any possessions. She remembered that
the bearded devils they had fought before had worn money pouches. That had been the first time
they had seen any of the obsidian chits. However, none of these fiends had anything like that. The
war machines had been cleaned out as well. Storage compartments were hanging open and empty.
There was nothing here.

A clanging sound cause her to turn in surprise, her hand reaching for her weapon. The homunculus
was by the other machine, the one that had been upright. It had picked up a rock and was beating
on one of the metal wheels, waving over the rest of the group.

Pariah ambled over and it started pointing underneath the machine frantically. She crouched down,
weapon in hand, suspecting an ambush of some kind but she saw nothing. She looked back at the
construct and said, "What?"

It scurried under the machine, pointed towards the undercarriage, made a grabbing motion, and
then ran towards their war machine as though carrying something. It then ran to the overturned
machine, pointed to part of it, and then made the same taking and carrying motions.

Rowan and Lythienne had come to look as well. Farima and Lulu watched from their vehicle.
Lythienne said, "We should take parts from these war machines?"

The homunculus bobbed his head up and down in a frantic nod. He ran to the overturned machine
again and pointed to specific bolts and then mimed something. It took Pariah a moment, but then
she said, "Use a wrench?" It nodded again.

Farima called out, "We have more important things to do than salvage these wrecks. We should get
going."

The homunculus shook its head and then pointed to the overturned war machine, stamping its little
foot.

Pariah felt her lips pursing as she studied it. The work she'd done on the war machine at Fort
Knucklebone had been hard, sweaty and dirty. It wasn't something she wanted to repeat. "I agree
with Farima," she said.

The homunculus ran over and climbed up her pants leg before she could react. It slapped her coin
pouch and then pointed back to the machine.

"The parts are valuable?" Pariah asked, feeling a spark of interest.

The homunculus nodded.

Rowan said to the group, "I assume that is Elliach addressing us through his creation." The
construct pointed to her and nodded. She said, "So you want us to gather these parts as part of our
contract?" The construct nodded again.

She turned to the rest of them. "We could use a rest break, though this doesn't seem like much of a
rest. Farima, what would be the consequences of ignoring this request? Under the contract that is."

The other woman ran a hand through her short brown hair. "I do not believe there is a provision
that would apply. The only specific task is the harvesting of the pit fiend."

The homunculus repeated the action of slapping Pariah's pouch and pointing to the crashed war
machine. She said, "Let me take a look at it. Maybe they are parts that are easy to salvage."

The construct guided her to every bolt, and it turned out to be simple to dismount the system he
wanted, especially once Rowan and Lythienne pitched in. There was a similar device on the other
machine. She didn't understand what it was, but it was something in the sequence of machinery
between the fuel tank and the wheels. The homunculus was insistent that she take both, but showed
no interest in any other part.

They took a quick meal break -- Rowan summoned food since their rations were starting to get
short -- and then Pariah took her turn at the wheel as they continued downstream along the shore of
the River Styx.

Pariah turned the war machine and stopped along the side of the stream that branched off from the
main river. She got out of her seat to walk to the side of the deck and study the waterway. It was
extremely narrow, only about ten feet across. The murkiness of the water made it impossible to
guess how deep it was. However, what had made her stop and look was the fact that the tributary
was artificial. Massive stone blocks walled off a trough that the river flowed through. The stones
continued for about two hundred feet and then stopped, the water flowing across the natural
features of the land past that.

"Strange," she said. "I wonder why someone would build this?"

Farima opined, "I would imagine waters from the River Styx carry powerful magic. Perhaps
someone wanted a supply but didn't want to travel this far."

Pariah studied the water for a bit longer and then turned back to the helm. "I guess it doesn't
matter. It's just strange."

She pushed the throttle forward again and they followed the waterway, keeping a careful distance
from it. It flowed fairly straight, occasionally curving around some small rise in the land. After a
while, she saw the flow had carved a channel into the ground. The firm earth started to give way to
stone, and the gap widened and deepened until it became a canyon cutting its way across the
Avernian landscape. The land rose before her in a shallow but steady slope, but the river canyon
sloped down.

The drive stretched out, and Pariah grew tired. She was considering calling for a halt but then she
saw the horizon was getting closer. She was confused until she realized only the near horizon was
getting closer; she could see the dim shimmer of land beyond. They were approaching a cliff.

She slowed and stopped some distance from the edge, since she had no idea how stable the land
near the drop off was. She turned engine off and was greeted by blissful silence. She stood and
tried to stretch the ache out of her back. The others did the same, and Lulu took off to flit about and
burn off some of her energy.

Pariah groaned as she came out of her stretch. "I think we should look for a place to camp."

Rowan said, "I thought we'd get there by the end of the day. Maybe we should keep driving."

Pariah looked over at the fuel gauge. "We don't have much left. A couple of hours maybe? I don't
want to drive until the tank is empty just in case we have to run." She looked up at the fueling rod
at the top. "And I'm next in line to power this thing. I want a good night's sleep first." She snorted.
"Or a bad night's sleep anyhow."

"That's fair," Rowan nodded.

Pariah grabbed her pack and tossed it to the ground. Lythienne, who had already dismounted,
called out, "Come look at this." She was standing at the edge of the cliff looking down at the
scenery below.

She didn't sound agitated so Pariah walked over to join her, carefully looking around the area for
possible dangers. The land was flat and featureless, other than the canyon to their right and the cliff
to their front. It seemed safe.

The cliff dropped a couple of hundred feet and continued for quite some distance to the right.
Ahead was a series of cliffs, like a giant staircase stretching off into the distance. The canyon was
deeper than the nearby drop, cutting a gash across the ground far below. It ended at a huge,
irregular patch of green about a mile across. Pariah couldn't see the river flowing through the lower
canyon. She had this sudden fear that the water had cut into some kind of underground tunnel miles
back, and they'd been following the wrong landmark.

"What is that?" Rowan asked, pointing at the green patch. "Is that grass? Trees?"
Lythienne shook her head. "I think it might be something like a swamp. Look on the far side. You
can see the water flowing out."

Pariah scanned the far edge of the green area and realized she was right. It was difficult to see at
this angle, but a murky waterfall spilled out of the far side of the patch, pouring down another cliff.
At each edge was a lake that spilled into another body of water on the next level. The sequence
continued as far as she could see.

Rowan had unrolled the map. "Oh, I see. Then we are here. That is the Pit of Shummrath. He must
be inside that."

"Ow!" Lulu yelled. "Stop it!"

Pariah turned to see Lulu was backing away from the homunculus, fending him off with her trunk.
"What's going on?"

"He keeps grabbing at me," Lulu said. She leapt into the air, hovering a few feet off the ground to
get away from him.

Pariah moved to step between them, facing the homunculus. "What are you doing?" she asked. She
was annoyed but tried to keep her tone polite.

The homunculus pointed to Lulu, put the edge of one hand into the gap between two fingers of the
other hand, fluttered a hand around, pointed to his eyes, pointed towards the canyon, poked the air
several times in a line, then threw his hands out wide.

Pariah frowned in bafflement. "What?"

After several minutes of frantic pantomime in front of the group, Lythienne was able to puzzle out,
"So you want to ride Lulu and scout out the canyon to figure out where to place the shattersticks."

The homunculus nodded.

The plan made sense to Pariah. She said to Lulu, "Would that be all right with you?"

"I don't like him," she pouted. She had settled to the ground by Farima.

"But will you do it?"

Lulu silently debated her decision. Pariah knew she could carry the construct herself, but her wings
didn't last all that long. Lulu might be the better option. After a long silence, the hollyphant
reluctantly said, "Fine."

The homunculus started to scurry over to Lulu. Pariah called out, "Hey, Elliach." The homunculus
stopped and turned towards her. Pariah knelt down in front of him and said very distinctly, "Be.
Nice," emphasizing each word with a gentle poke of her finger into his chest. The homunculus
gave no response, simply continued his jog towards Lulu.

Lulu flew him up and down the length of the canyon as he surveyed the near wall. As he did,
Pariah and the others came to the edge to look down. The canyon walls were steep and rocky. No
plants grew along the surfaces. The bottom seemed to be just as dimly lit as the top, a strange side
effect of a world where the light didn't seem to come from anywhere in particular. She could see
the water flowing slowly but steadily. The canyon looked natural rather than artificial to her
untrained eye. This tributary might have been flowing for ten thousand years for all she knew.
The homunculus guided Lulu back to the war machine, where she landed. He slipped off and
Pariah called over, "Did you get what you need?" The construct ignored her. He looked at Lulu
and pointed to the ground at her feet, then he ran to the bag of tools Elliach had given them. After
pulling out a small, sealed pot and a paint brush, he ran back and jumped on Lulu's back.

"Hey!" she yelled as he dug his heels in. "I'm tired. That's enough." He dug his heels in again and
she grudgingly took off.

He guided her to spots on the wall and, after much poking, prodding, sighing, and Lulu
complaining he finally communicated that he needed her to paint five marks on the walls using her
trunk to hold the brush. He guided her back and, as she landed, she bucked him off. He fell to the
ground and the paint pot went flying, but the stopper remained intact. As she stomped off, Pariah
saw her face was spattered with red paint. Farima went rushing after her.

The homunculus didn't seem to care about the rough treatment. He came over to the group, drew an
X on the ground with his finger, and mimed stabbing it. Pariah guessed, "Put a shatterstick where
you marked."

It nodded.

Lythienne said, "I'll climb down and place them. There are plenty of handholds. I'll try to find soft
earth or cracks in the stone where I can place them without hammering them in."

Pariah shook her head. "If you fall, you fall into the Styx. I'll fly in and do it."

"I don't know," Lythienne said uncertainly. "It's going to require some strength to push these in,
and I'm probably the strongest one here."

Before Pariah could argue, Farima said, "We could tie her to the war machine. That way she
cannot fall."

Lythienne was already pulling the shattersticks from the bag. "That's a good idea. Pariah, save your
wings for when we need to set them off. You can fly through, hammer each one, and get out before
they start to go off."

Pariah didn't agree with the plan, but she saw no reason to argue the point. It took them a while to
figure out the best way to tie the rope to Lythienne, but they finally managed a crude harness.
Pariah was impatient during all of this; she could have been done by now, but Lythienne was
insistent that she wanted to be the one to do it.

The placement of the metal spikes turned out to be pretty simple. Lythienne agilely scrambled
down the face of the canyon to find the painted markings, each thirty or more feet below the top of
the canyon wall. Most places she could find a large enough crack in the stone to shove the
shatterstick in firmly enough that it wasn't going to fall out. One crack was too shallow to take the
spike, but she used tools from the war machine to split the fracture until it was deep enough to
place the explosive.

She returned to them covered in dirt and sweat, but successful. They moved the war machine away
and the others crouched down beside it. Pariah took the hammer given to them by Elliach, and then
she summoned her wings. She hovered out over the canyon, looking at the placement of the spikes.
A count of fifty, the salamander had said. That seemed like plenty of time. Slow and steady, just
not too slow, she told herself.

She dove in, stopped near the first spike, and swung the hammer. It connected with a satisfying
clunk, and the end of the metal spike started glowing. She stopped, intrigued by the reaction, but
urged herself to keep moving. She moved down the line, striking each spike and getting the same
glow each time. When she had hit the fifth spike, she flew over to the war machine and hid behind
it with the others.

She realized she hadn't been counting. How long had it been? She waited and waited, but nothing
happened. Just about the time she wondered if something had gone wrong, there was a deep rumble
that shook the ground. The war machine creaked ominously as the stone beneath it shifted. Pariah
was surprised; she hadn't expected a reaction so deep in the stone.

A second tremor shook the ground, and she heard rocks falling. She was tempted to peek over the
war machine, but decided to keep her head down. A third quake hit them, and she heard stone
crack more closely than she had been expecting. She suddenly wondered if they should have
parked the war machine more than fifty feet from the edge.

By the time of the fourth tremor, the roar of falling stones was constant. The fifth and final rumble
shook them and she steeled herself, hoping there wouldn't be some mysterious sixth quake as the
entire cliff wall collapsed into the river, carrying them with it.

No more tremors came, and soon the sound of falling rocks faded away. The homunculus peered
around the side of one of the wheels, and then scurried off to inspect the site.

The rest of them stood up to survey the damage. What had been a fairly straight canyon rim was
now a ragged wound, in some places reaching ten or fifteen feet from what had once been the
edge. She still heard occasional cracking and falling of rocks. "Be careful," she said. "Let me go
look."

Her wings were still present so she took off to inspect the area from the air. The whole face of the
canyon wall had slid down to fill the canyon below. She was surprised to see how extensive the
damage was. Apparently, Elliach had known how to place the shattersticks to maximum effect
after all. The narrow canyon was now half filled with rubble. Past the landslide, no water flowed at
all. They had completely dammed this tributary.

She flew back and reported this to the others.

Rowan said, "I guess we wait for the water to drain, and then we find Shummrath. Should we go
down and make camp below?" Although their current location ended in a cliff, there was an incline
to the left that eventually led down to the next level.

"Seems good to me." Pariah said. She noticed the worried look on Farima's face. "Farima?
Something wrong?"

Farima looked up at her. "Perhaps. Water is not so easy to block. It will rise to flow over the dam
we have created. I fear it will flood the pit again before we have completed our task."

Pariah didn't understand the complexities of dams and flows and so on, and there wasn't much they
could do about it anyhow. "We have two more shattersticks," she suggested. "Or we could see
what happens. If the pit empties, we will just have to be sure to finish things fast. I can always
come back up here and check the water level."

"I suppose that is the best we can do," Farima said, unsatisfied.

Pariah put the hammer in the tool bag. "For now, let's head down and look at this pit. Let's hope it
drains fast and we can get this over with."
Chapter End Notes

The Pit of Shummrath is absurdly huge. The module has no scale, but it's the largest
single feature on the map. The remix does have a scale that makes it about 10 miles
wide and at least 80 miles long; it runs off the map so might be longer. Here in the real
world, that would make it the 9th largest lake in the U.S., 1/3 the size of the Great Salt
Lake. It's also a mile deep. And yet, the PCs are supposed to drain it in 24-48 hours.
Yeah, I know, D&D is not a physics simulator, but come on!

Plus, how would they locate Shummrath after draining a lake that large?

I made it so the pit itself is just at the head of the lake, and the rest is a series of small
lakes connected by waterfalls. The tributary being engineered rather than natural is
also my addition. It makes sense that this was a prison built by Bel, and maybe the
other lakes are intended for future enemies. More changes to the structure of the pit
will be visible after it drains.
 A Prison Pit
Chapter Summary

The group waits impatiently for the pit fiend, Shummrath, to regenerate so they can
harvest his blood.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah gazed out over the pit, staying far from the edge in case the earth there was unstable. The
water had mostly drained out of it, revealing stonework that indicated the pit was either artificial or
had at least been enhanced. To her left, the water drained through a massive iron grate that
stretched across several hundred feet of the mile-wide wall. More interesting to her was the wide
basalt stairway before her that descended to a stone path that led to a rocky island that jutted up in
the middle of the depression. The island, now exposed by the draining waters, held a massive,
fiendish skeleton that was chained by its ankles. Lulu was flying over the island, though keeping
her distance.

Even through the magnification of the goggles it was hard to tell much about the skeleton, such as
its size. What she could see was that the bones were less bare than they had been a couple of hours
ago. A web of ligaments were forming around the limbs, and fleshy masses grew between the ribs
and pelvis.

They had discussed waiting nearer to the body, but decided to keep their distance until they were
ready to risk the harvest. If nothing else, it would give more time for the residual moisture to
evaporate. For all they knew, even a drop of water from the River Styx would erase their
memories. They hoped that, by the time they ventured into the prison, the stone would be
completely dry.

And it was a prison, that was clear. Pariah had walked to the cliff that dropped to the next lake and
saw a similar setup there -- a rocky island in the middle of a draining lake. This one also sported
chains, but no skeleton. She couldn't see past the next cliff, but she guessed that this was a series of
watery cells for Bel's enemies. She hadn't realized that the River Styx had such a corrosive effect
on fiendish flesh.

The water had spoken to them telepathically when they had arrived. Somehow, the essence of
Shummrath survived, dispersed through the lake as a layer of greenish slime that Lythienne had
mistaken for swamp flora. However, the pit fiend retained little sanity. His voice simply raged
against Bel, swearing violent payback for his imprisonment. Any attempts at conversation had
failed as the devil constantly had his memory erased of all thoughts but the singular burning desire
for revenge.

After the water drained and the devil started to regenerate, all telepathy seemed to stop. Pariah
didn't know if that meant his consciousness had been dispersed or if he was simply concentrating
on regenerating his body.

They had returned to the upper cliff to monitor the rise of the water against the rockslide in the
canyon. The water had risen quickly at first but then had leveled off well below the top of the
impromptu dam. Apparently even the waters of the River Styx sought their own level. A trickle
had found its way through cracks in the rockslide, but not enough to slow the draining of the pit.

So they waited, and the waiting was wearing on all of them. Pariah found the boredom kept driving
her into her reading. Lythienne had grown irritable and restless. Rowan was passing the time by
steadily drinking the beer that came out of Pariah's jug. And Farima, well, Pariah wasn't sure what
was up with her. She seemed constantly distracted, occasionally doing things like breaking off in
the middle of a sentence to listen intently. When pressed, she insisted it was nothing.

Pariah didn't know if this increase in problem behavior was simply the cumulative effect of
traveling in Avernus, or a side effect of being this close to a powerful devil. They had talked about
moving back up and camping on the upper cliff, but had decided it would be best to stay close so
they could keep an eye on the regenerating fiend.

Lulu came back and landed next to her. Pariah took the goggles off and asked, "Anything?"

"Maybe," Lulu said uncertainly. "I can sense some thoughts but they are weak and jumbled."

Pariah nodded thoughtfully. "I'm going to go read for a while. You mind keeping an eye on him?"

"I guess," Lulu said. "It's boring."

"I know. I'll come watch later." She didn't really think Lulu would pay much attention to
Shummrath, but she also didn't think it was likely his skeleton was going to come to life just yet.
Mostly, she wanted a little bit of time away from the hollyphant, who chattered a lot when she was
bored.

Pariah turned back to their camp where the others were sleeping. After scanning the nearby area
for threats, she sat down and returned to reading the manual they had gotten from Elliach. It was
her third time through it. She was now an expert in how to harvest valuable components from a pit
fiend. She had idly wondered if they could negotiate with the weakened fiend to let them take the
blood they needed as well as enough venom to compensate Elliach for his share, perhaps in return
for breaking his chains. She wasn't sure if Farima or Lulu would agree to the deal, but it didn't
matter. From what the manual said, they would require every drop they could get to satisfy
Mordenkainen's request, enough that it would kill the devil.

That left them with the hope that they could approach the pit fiend while he was still regenerating
and unconscious, harvesting what they needed before he revived. She hadn't read much about pit
fiends in Candlekeep, but what little she read made it clear that they were some of the most
powerful fiends in the Lower Planes. She didn't want to fight one.

"You should sleep."

Pariah jumped at the sound of the voice, but it was just Lythienne. She was sitting in her trance
position, but her eyes were open now.

"Talona's tits," Pariah whispered. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize how enthralled you were in that butcher's manual."

Pariah grinned. "It's not that exciting a book, but it's something to keep my mind off things."

"I'll keep watch," Lythienne said, standing with a languid stretch. "You go to sleep."

Pariah wasn't that tired, but she also saw this as a chance to talk with the other woman. She stood as
well, and said, "Come with me for a bit."

Lythienne gave her a puzzled look but followed her as she walked off a little ways from the camp,
away from prying ears. There wasn't a convenient boulder to sit on and talk, so Pariah settled for
just standing there a little awkwardly. She glanced over at the others and then said, "I just wanted
to check in. See how you are feeling."

"Me?" Lythienne asked, her eyebrows inching up. "Why me?" Her tone was testy.

"Not you specifically," Pariah assured her, thought that was a bit of a lie. "Everyone. You're just
the one who's awake."

"I'm fine," Lythienne said, but then she pursed her lips. "Well, mostly. I'm just impatient to get this
over with."

"Yeah, me too." Pariah hesitated but then said, "You seem angry, though. Is it at anything in
particular?"

"I'm fine," Lythienne said sharply, but then she paused and took a breath. "Oh, you mean like that."

Pariah allowed herself a hint of a grin. "Sort of."

Lythienne tossed her head, her dark hair rippling with the motion. "I don't know. I suppose
everything is just starting to get to me. Especially after finding Evaelisar."

Pariah reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, I know. And that's another reason I
wanted to talk to you." She shook her head as she took her hand away. "I can't even begin to
understand what that must have been like. I don't think any of us can. I don't want this place to get
under your skin."

Lythienne crossed her arms as though she was cold, and she turned to the side to look across the
wasteland. "Are you asking me about the contract with Mahadi?"

Pariah sighed. "I guess I thought I was being more clever than that. But, yes, that's what I'm most
worried about."

Lythienne turned to face her, her face clouded. "It is my decision and none of your business. I have
heard your advice but it is not something I wish to discuss."

"OK, OK," Pariah said, putting her hands out in surrender. "I didn't mean to overstep."

Lythienne struggled for words and then said, her voice calmer, "I know you are just worried about
me, and I appreciate that. And I don't know why it irritates me so much that you are asking about
it." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "I have not completely dismissed the idea, but I am not
rushing to enter into such an arrangement either." She made a dismissive wave. "I'm sorry I am
being so difficult."

"It's fine," Pariah assured her. "I'm just worried." She wanted to ask more, but it seemed like she
had pressed it as much as she could. "And I think I'll go ahead and try to get some sleep while you
take the next watch."

All four women were standing at the top of the steps, looking towards the distant pit fiend. His
regeneration had progressed substantially in the last day. He looked mostly intact now, though
Rowan was using the goggles so Pariah couldn't get a good look at him from this distance. The
homunculus was out there, examining the devil's body, barely visible against the fiend's massive
form. She knew the devil was huge, but seeing him in scale against the small homunculus made
Pariah realize that his heavily muscled body must be well over twice her height.

He was naked but had scaly hide that would be tough to pierce. He was unarmed, but the claws and
fangs could clearly do as much damage as a sword. Plus, from what she remembered from her
reading, he could summon fire and other magical effects.

The homunculus started running back to them. Pariah wasn't alarmed by this; he had run back and
forth to the regenerating corpse every hour or two since they had come out. Lulu had been flying
over the pit fiend, and now she came back to land beside them as the homunculus labored to climb
stairs too large for his tiny form.

Farima asked Lulu, "Is he waking?"

"I don't think so," Lulu said uncertainly. "His brain is just a jumble. I can't see anything in it."

The homunculus managed to climb the final step and then started beckoning to the group and
pointing to the fiend. Pariah said, "You think we should harvest now?"

The homunculus nodded rapidly, continuing to beckon and point. Pariah and Lythienne exchanged
a resigned look. After some discussion, it had been decided that they would be best suited to do the
harvesting. Lythienne's nimble fingers combined with Pariah's knowledge from studying the
manual seemed like the best combination. The others would stay back out of harm's way.

The devil might be unconscious, but that didn't mean they weren't going to be careful. Pariah pulled
the cold into her armor. Rowan and Farima said protective prayers over Pariah and Lythienne.
Lythienne inspired them with stirring words. Soon, though, they were ready and with more than a
little trepidation Pariah and Lythienne started down the steps, accompanied by Rowan's illusionary
duplicate.

Pariah watched the fiend carefully as they approached, looking for any hint of movement but she
saw nothing, not even the rise and fall of his chest. There was a rank smell as they descended into
the pit, though she suspected that was from the water that still hadn't drained. Although this rocky
island was dry, they were still surrounded by murky water about twenty feet down.

Shummrath kept getting bigger as they approached. At his full height, she estimated he would
stand head and shoulders over Little One. Unlike the ogre, there was no fat on his body. Even at
rest, his muscles bulged under the red scaly skin. The scales looked patchy and unfinished in spots,
though she wondered how easy they would be to cut through.

His claws were about as long as her hand, and his teeth were even longer. Both were uneven and
jagged, though she wasn't sure if that was their natural look or if they were still forming. Lythienne
set down the bag of tools by Shummrath's shoulder. "Blood first, I suppose," she said as she looked
over the body, keeping her voice low.

Pariah nodded, her full attention still on the fiend. "There's a vein under the arm along the ribs.
Here," she sketched a line in the air over where the vein should be.

Lythienne scrutinized the area. "Yes, I think I see it." She retrieved a metal flask and a small knife
from the bag. "Here we go."

And then they were bathed in an eruption of flame.

The pain and the storm of fire that swirled around her disoriented Pariah. She reflexively held up
her left arm as something rushed out of the inferno towards her, her icy shield flashing into
existence to block the blow. She cried out as the pit fiend bit down, but the forward thrust of her
shield arm meant the bite was from the grinding teeth in the back, not the poison-dripping fangs in
the front. She managed to pull her arm out, dodged one massive claw, but shifted right into the
path of his lashing tail that nearly knocked her to the ground. The other claw came too quickly and
it raked across her belly, tearing through the leather and leaving a deep wound. She was so weak
and in pain that she was barely able to stand, but felt Rowan's protective magic keeping her on her
feet.

Fear welled up in her, both the tangible fear of her life dripping away from her wounds and the
panic at facing the massive monster that loomed up in front of her. There is no way you could beat
a pit fiend, the voice in her head screamed. But Rowan's blessings still shielded her, and the fear
felt distant, like a story someone was telling. She heard Rowan's voice, though she couldn't make
out the words, and then suddenly the wall of flames dissipated. That just left the mountain of
muscle and fangs and claws looming over her.

She saw Lythienne had fallen back and was downing a potion. That left Pariah facing the thing
alone. She aggressively attacked, her attack coinciding with a barrage of magical bolts slamming
into it. The distraction from Farima's magic allowed Pariah to land a couple of minor wounds, but
they looked like little more than shaving cuts on the massive frame. The pit fiend roared and
reached for her, but she disappeared into a cloud of ice crystals and reappeared some distance from
the devil.

Pariah turned to face him, ready to dodge his charge, but Shummrath was securely chained to the
rock. He strained against the infernal iron that held him but couldn't break his shackles. He was
distracted by his attempt to reach Pariah and didn't see Lythienne dart in to pummel him with her
spiked gloves. He turned to slash at her and she darted away, but he landed a clumsy blow that tore
a shallow gash across her back.

Another barrage of bolts peppered his hide and he turned away from the two melee opponents. He
made a throwing motion and a small ball of fire shot towards Farima and Rowan, standing some
distance away. It exploded into a cloud of flame that enveloped both women. Rowan recoiled from
the fire, and Pariah felt her blessings fade as she did. However, the priest quickly regained her
stance and fired a glowing bolt of energy that Shummrath easily dodged.

Farima didn't do as well. She fired a barrage of magic at him, but then turned and started to run.
Pariah saw her casting a spell as she did, and her speed increased as she fled towards the stairs that
led out of the pit. Shummrath roared and flung another ball of fire. It exploded, and Farima pitched
forward, skidding along the rough stone until her unmoving body stopped.

Pariah had been wondering if they might need to run, but seeing Farima fall made her realize they'd
be dead before they got away. She fired an icy ray from her sword to try to attract Shummrath's
attention from Farima as her other hand grabbed for a healing potion. Lulu blasted him with a
trumpet of sparkling energy, and then darted aside as his tail almost hit her. Lythienne steeled
herself and then released a booming shout at him. The sound thundered out, splitting the rock in
front of her and slamming into the fiend.

Pariah spared a glance towards the others and was pleased to see Rowan helping Farima back to
her feet. The fiend was winding up for another fireball, so Pariah stoked her courage and charged
in. Fear rose up in her as she closed with him, but she pushed it aside as she struck at his exposed
back. She struck a deep wound this time, and the pit fiend was finally starting to show some
weakness. More importantly, he stopped his fireball to turn and claw at her. Again she disappeared
into a cloud of icy crystals, leaving him slashing at empty air with a frustrated roar.
 Farima, back on her feet, had resumed her flight towards the stairs. Rowan looked after her, but
then turned back to launch another bolt of radiance at the fiend. This one hit. Pariah and Lythienne
closed on either side, and Lulu harassed him from the air with smaller bolts of radiant energy. The
tail knocked Pariah off her feet and she quickly rolled to the side to avoid the claws that raked
furrows into the stone. The fiend then turned and snapped at Lythienne. She hadn't been expecting
his sudden change in target, and the fangs sunk into her shoulder. She cried out involuntarily, and
Pariah leapt to her feet and plunged her blade into the fiend's side.

Shummrath released Lythienne and she collapsed to the ground. He snapped at Pariah but she
avoided his fangs. Claws tore another wound into Pariah's side, and she returned the gesture as she
stabbed deeply into his thigh. He went down on one knee, and then Lulu yelled something in
Celestial and a bolt of radiance slammed into his eye, burning into his skull. He pitched forward
and crashed to the stone.

Any sense of victory Pariah felt was eclipsed by the sight of Lythienne's body, motionless, the skin
of her neck and face turning purple as the venom from her shoulder wound coursed through her
bloodstream.

Chapter End Notes

If I had wanted to cheese this battle, I could simply have had Rowan cast Silence at
the spot where the pit fiend is chained, and then they stand back and snipe him with
cantrips over the next 10 minutes. He couldn't use his innate magic, and has no other
ranged attack. But where's the fun in that?

The fight was a pit fiend with 4 levels of exhaustion, also chained down so he has
movement 0, and it was STILL a tough battle. He auto-saved on nearly everything.
Farima's running was a narrative thing. That added to the challenge, but she got a
couple of high-level, empowered magic missiles off so she took out a good chunk of
his health.
 A Mortified Sorcerer
Chapter Summary

After the nearly disastrous battle with Shummrath, Lythienne lies on the ground, dying
from his venomous bite, and Farima has fled and is nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Rowan!" Pariah shouted, not taking her eyes off the body of the pit fiend.

"I'm right here," Rowan said as she rushed over to Lythienne's unmoving form and started praying
over her.

Pariah pinched her earring. "Farima, it's dead. You can come back." She waited. "Farima? Can you
hear me?"

Silence.

"Lulu, go find Farima," she said over her shoulder. She heard the hollyphant fly off.

Pariah was worried about Farima and wanted to look for her, but she continued to watch
Shummrath intently. He wasn't moving, but he hadn't been moving before. He had a number of
wounds and they weren't bleeding, which is often a sign someone is dead, but she didn't know if
devils worked the same as mortals.

She fired a beam of cold at him. It splashed across his chest, leaving a patch of frost, but got no
reaction from him. That still wasn't enough for her. She was badly wounded and wouldn't survive
another ambush. She was also painfully aware that both Lythienne and Rowan were nearby,
vulnerable to another fiery surprise.

She carefully advanced, her nerves on edge. She poked him with the tip of her rapier a couple of
times to no effect. She debated about plunging the blade into his chest, but they still needed to
harvest what they could from him. Instead she looked at his eye, now burned out from Lulu's final
attack. She put the point of her blade against the blackened eyeball and pushed until she hit bone on
the other side. Then, just to be sure, she wiggled the blade around a bit inside his brain.

She sighed in relief as she withdrew her weapon. Maybe he was actually dead.

Pariah turned at the sound of a groan and was even more relieved to see Rowan helping Lythienne
into a sitting position. The swelling and discoloration along her face and neck had greatly subsided,
though her coloration was off and she had that "trying not to throw up" look on her face.

"You have a great story to tell," Pariah said.

Lythienne smiled weakly. "I think I will have to tone it down. Nobody would believe the truth of
it."

Rowan looked around. "Should we go after Farima?"

"I sent Lulu after her," Pariah said. She looked at the corpse and debated. "I want to find her but I
don't want to leave this thing."

Rowan squeezed her own earring. "Farima? Are you all right? If you come back I can do some
healing for the group."

Again there was no response. Pariah was just starting to get worried, when Farima's voice finally
came over the earring. "I am here," she said hesitantly. "I...Please forgive my..." There was another
long pause. "I would rather wait here by the war machine."

"All right. We'll be along soon," Rowan said. She turned to the others. "Should we head back and
rest first?"

Pariah shook her head. "I want to get this done. For all we know, he's going to come to life again.
Maybe you and Lythienne should go back and I'll take care of this."

"No," Lythienne said as she struggled to her feet. "I am feeling better by the moment. I think it
would be better for the both of us to work on this."

Rowan looked over towards the stairs and the war machine they couldn't see, and then looked back
to the pit fiend's corpse. "I don't like splitting us up. Even if he really is dead dead, there are other
enemies here."

Pariah picked up the leather pouch that contained their tools. The leather was singed, but the
contents appeared to be safe. "I agree, but I don't think she's going to come back here."

"I suppose," Rowan said, again staring towards the distant steps. "I was surprised when she ran."

"It was the fire," Pariah said as she looked around for the knife Lythienne had been holding when
they had been ambushed.

"Oh, right," Rowan said as the light dawned. "She said something about being afraid of fire."

Pariah spotted the knife and started towards it. She didn't know if Farima had told them about the
death of her sister or not, and it wasn't her place to share the story, so she settled for saying, "I don't
think we'll need you here. It might be best for you to go see if she needs any help."

"Then I'll head back," Rowan said reluctantly. "Call if you need anything."

Pariah bent down to pick up the knife and, when she stood, Lythienne was in front of her with her
hand out. "I'll take that," she said.

"Are you sure?" Pariah asked uncertainly.

"I am feeling better. My hands were shaking a moment ago, but they have steadied."

Pariah studied her skeptically, but had to admit that she looked better than she had even a few
seconds ago. Rowan's prayers seemed to be working. She handed the blade over and said, "Let's
get to work."

Pariah struggled with the wing as she climbed the steps. The stone was crudely carved so the steps
didn't give good footing, and the wing was unwieldy even carrying it with both arms. Though it
was folded as much as it could be, it still was nearly too big to reach around, and longer than she
was tall.
The blood, their main reason for being here, had been easy to collect, though Pariah had been
surprised by the way it had hissed and bubbled as it dripped into the flask. The sealed metal
container had been warm to the touch when they were done. They had gotten enough to satisfy
Mordenkainen's request, and that was what was important.

Collecting the venom hadn't been too hard. Pariah had been surprised how much had been left,
considering some had been injected into Lythienne. While it hadn't been as effervescent as the
blood, the smell had made her dizzy. She had been careful not to get any of it on her skin, and
especially not to get any into her wounds.

Removing the claws had been trickier. She wanted to just take the fingers, but the manual had
explicitly said that claws still mounted were worth far less. There was a particular technique to
disconnecting the claw from the finger bone without cracking it. Lythienne had managed it
correctly for most of them, but three of the claws were fractured at the bottom and Pariah imagined
that would reduce the price.

Disconnecting the wings had been even harder. One looked fine but the other one, the one Pariah
was fighting with at the moment, had not fared so well. The main bone that connected it to the
fiend's back had broken during removal, and the membrane of the wing was torn.

The head had been a total disaster. The tendons holding it on were like iron, and the tools provided
simply couldn't cut through. Pariah had hacked at it for a while before she finally had given up. To
be fair, Elliach had said the brain had to be preserved, and since she had shoved her rapier into his
skull, that was likely no longer the case.

The homunculus had watched them passively throughout the process, offering no assistance at all.

Pariah realized as she neared the top of the steps that they hadn't heard from the others. She and
Lythienne had been so involved in the harvesting that it hadn't occurred to her to check in on them,
but now she was worried. She hurried the last few steps, straining to look around the bundle she
was carrying, and was relieved to see Farima, Rowan and Lulu laying out a meal.

She dumped the wing on the ground next to the war machine. Lythienne put the wing she was
carrying next to it, followed by the sack that held the other samples. They then went to join the
others.

Farima was intent on portioning out Tymoran biscuits onto plates. Rowan looked up and said,
"Good, you're here. Lunch is almost ready."

"I want to wash my hands first," Pariah said. Normally she wasn't much for washing up before
eating, but figured she'd make an exception after dissecting a devil. "Farima, can you summon
water, or should I use my jug?"

The other woman stopped what she was doing and sat back on her heels, staring at the ground
silently. She didn't speak at first and then said softly, "Yes, of course. Let us do this away from our
dining area." She stood and walked away.

Pariah and Lythienne followed her to a spot a short distance off. Farima spilled a little water into
her palm, chanted her spell, and then turned her palms down. Water flowed from her hands to
splatter on the stony ground. They didn't have soap or anything similar, so Pariah and Lythienne
did the best they could to scrub any gore away from their hands and under their fingernails before
the streams of water petered out.

"Thanks," Pariah said. Farima stayed silent, still looking down at the ground. Pariah said, "Are you
all right?"

Farima brought her hands together, pulling at her fingers. "No," she said. "I...am quite humiliated
by my cowardice in battle. I am ashamed that I deserted you and do not know how to atone for my
sin."

The confession was unexpected and Pariah didn't know how to respond. Lythienne said, "There is
nothing to atone for, especially once he started attacking you directly. As it was, you nearly died
even though you retreated. I, for one, am not angry with you. Pariah?"

"No," Pariah said quickly. "Of course not. You did a lot of damage before he turned on you, and
running was the smart thing to do."

Rather than making Farima feel better, she seemed more uncomfortable than before. "While I
appreciate your kind words, I cannot forgive myself so easily. You should be able to depend on
me. We should stand or fall together."

Pariah didn't know what to say to that. She was worried about Farima, not upset with her. She
searched for words of comfort but nothing came to mind. She said gently, "Was it the fire that
upset you?"

"Yes," Farima stammered.

"Well, that makes it even more understandable."

Farima shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "There is no excuse for deserting your allies."

Lythienne said, "Have you heard the story of Habron Besk?"

Farima looked confused for a moment and then said, "No, I do not believe so."

"That's not surprising. It's an old story, not told much anymore." She paused for a moment and
shifted into what Pariah had come to recognize as her storytelling mode. Lythienne continued, "In
the early 8th century, a demon army assaulted and overwhelmed the city of Impiltur. Tyr, Ilmater
and Torm raised an army to launch the Triad Crusade and defeat the demons."

She hummed a tuned and sketched the air with her fingers. An illusion of a young man appeared,
though the image was about half normal size. The boy looked less than twenty years old, and had
light skin and black hair clipped close to his skull. He was clean shaven and had intense, dark eyes.
He was dressed as a warrior and bore some kind of insignia, but his leather armor looked cheap.
Rather than a helmet he wore a ragged skin cap.

"Habron Besk was a soldier and a devout worshipper of Tyr. He had never seen battle, but he was
excited to show his commitment to Tyr and the Triad by killing demons." The boy's face was set
with optimism and resolve as he marched in place among the shadows of other soldiers.

"His cohort arrived outside the city and hadn't even set up camp before the demons attacked." The
soldier and his shadowy comrades were set upon by vague shapes. Although Lythienne put no
details on the figures, their bodies were warped with too many limbs that twisted in the wrong
ways, claws that rent the air, and toothy mouths that roared silently.

The boy tried to defend himself, but as he took wounds his expression changed from determination
to terror. "The demons were strong, and battle was nothing like the stories and songs he had grown
up listening to. Soldiers died screaming. Horrors assaulted him, their claws tearing painful wounds
into his flesh. Finally, it was too much, and he fled." The boy turned and ran in place, his face
twisted into a mute scream of panic.

"Besk ran until he was far from the battle, and only then did he dare to rest." The boy stopped and
sat with his back to a boulder, panting and casting frightened looks back where he had come from.
"The battle was lost, he told himself. If he had stayed he would have died, he told himself. Running
was his only choice, he told himself."

Farima looked away from the image, and Pariah could feel her shame increase. However, Pariah
assumed Lythienne was leading to a point so she remained silent.

Lythienne continued, "Besk wandered for two days, not sure where to go now that he had deserted.
He avoided other people because he was wracked with guilt." The boy walked aimlessly. His
wounds had been crudely bandaged. His face looked gaunt and a sprinkling of stubble had grown
on his chin.

"Then, as he passed a copse of trees, a wounded soldier staggered out and fell into his arms." The
man who suddenly appeared was older, his brown hair and beard streaked with gray. Despite his
age, he had a powerful build and a noble bearing. He wore bloodstained chainmail that was good
quality despite its battle scars, and sported a longsword on one hip and a warhammer on the other.

"Besk wanted to run away, but couldn't leave the injured man behind. He tended to his wounds and
gave him water." The image shifted to the injured man sitting up against a tree, bandaged now,
with Besk giving him a drink from his waterskin.

"The wounded soldier said he had been taking a message to the front lines when he had been
ambushed by a patrol of demons that had penetrated far behind the lines. He killed them but had
been badly injured. He recognized the insignia on Besk's armor. He said he was proud to meet a
member of such a heroic cohort. You see, although Besk's squad had been overwhelmed, the
remainder of the unit had managed to hold the line against the demon attack, preventing the
mortals' defense from collapsing. They had not fallen back or been destroyed as Besk had thought.
The soldier asked him about the battle, but Besk refused to speak of it. The soldier nodded with
understanding, saying the true hero doesn't brag about his efforts." The soldier image patted Besk
on the shoulder, and Besk hung his head in shame.

"The soldier's injuries were quite severe and Besk was not a healer so wasn't able to do much for
him. Besk told the man to return to the rear lines now that he was injured, but the man said the
orders were essential so he would push on. It was a verbal message and only he could deliver it.
Besk was frightened but couldn't bring himself to abandon the wounded soldier, so he agreed to
accompany him back to the front lines."

Besk and the soldier were walking now, their pace slow due to the soldier's injuries. Besk kept
looking around as though they were going to be attacked at any moment. "However, the soldier
weakened as they traveled. Finally, even his determination was not enough to continue." The
soldier fell to the ground, and Besk knelt next to him.

"In that moment, demons attacked." Three creatures rushed forward. They were goat-headed
humanoids with barbed tails. Their gray skin was covered in plague sores, and they had patches of
shaggy brown fur that crawled with parasites. "Besk longed to flee, but the wounded soldier was
helpless. Turning his panic into rage, he fought off the vile creatures from the Abyss even as their
foulness threatened to overwhelm him, and the terrible wounds they inflicted drained his life
force."

The battle was quick and brutal, and soon Besk stood over three pools of black demon ichor. He
sunk to one knee, supporting himself with his sword as he gasped for breath.
 The wounded soldier stood. His injuries faded and his armor mended. His gray eyes flashed like
steel and a white radiance shone from his brow. He looked down on Besk with a proud smile.
"From behind him, Besk heard a man's rich voice say, 'Rise, brave warrior and receive your
blessing.'"

Besk turned to see the soldier behind him and his jaw dropped in shock. He slowly rose to his feet
and turned to face the other man. "Besk could feel the divinity radiating off the figure before him
and realized he was standing face to face with Tyr himself."

Besk started to go back down to his knees but Tyr reached out to stop him, gripping his shoulders.
"Tyr told him to stand strong. He said that Besk had thought himself a coward, but all mortals
experience fear. Although he fled combat, the battle was not lost. Had he remained, he would have
died for nothing. When it mattered, though, he faced his fear and defended a stranger against a
dangerous foe. That was courage. Tyr doesn't want perfection; he wants mortals who strive for
perfection, and who don't turn their backs on those in need. He assured Besk that he possessed the
heart of a hero, and he shouldn't let one failure stop that heart from beating."

Tyr transformed into a blur of blue-white light, which died away to leave an astonished Habron
Besk standing alone. After a moment, the scene faded.

Farima stared at the empty space, her eyes shining. Lythienne said gently, "You had a moment of
completely understandable fear. You have stood bravely beside us countless times before that. You
have faced fiends and undead and hags and more without hesitation. Don't let one moment define
you."

Farima gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you," she said in a shaking voice, "both for the story and
for your faith in me."

Pariah was tempted to give her a hug but knew Farima didn't really like to be touched, so she
settled for saying, "Should we go eat then?"

Farima furrowed her brow slightly. "You two go ahead. I want to pray. I will be along shortly."

Pariah and Lythienne headed back towards where Rowan and Lulu had been watching them
curiously from a distance. Pariah said, "I'm glad you knew that story. I think that really helped. Do
you think the story is true?"

Lythienne glanced over her shoulder, flashed Pariah an impish grin, and whispered, "I know it's
not. I made it up on the spot. It's what she needed to hear."

Pariah was shocked. "You liar," she teased.

"Don't tell her," Lythienne cautioned.

"Of course not," Pariah said, wiping the grin from her face. She agreed with Lythienne: it was a
story Farima had needed to hear. She had clearly been much more at peace after the story, fake or
not.

Farima wasn't gone long, and the group sat down to a meal before starting the trip back to the
Wandering Emporium.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter End Notes

The broad details about Impiltur and the Triad Crusade are canon. The rest was all
made up by Lythienne.

In case you are wondering why Tyr wasn't blind, this was over 500 years before he
lost his eyes. I can't find a year that he lost his hand, but let's assume it was after 729
DR -- or it was earlier and Lythienne made a mistake.
 A Completed Transaction
Chapter Summary

Loaded up with pit fiend parts, the war machine makes its way back to the Wandering
Emporium.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah didn't feel much relief when Lythienne drove into the Wandering Emporium. She was too
tired and achy to feel much of anything. They had decided to drive back immediately even though
it had been late it the day, as much as their sleep schedule could be called a "day". That meant she
was exhausted. In addition, it had been her turn to fuel the machine before they left, and her whole
body still hurt from the experience.

She eyed their harvest as the roar of the engine faded. They could take the rest but the wings would
be clumsy to carry around, and yet she was too tired to deal with the alchemist. "Let's leave Elliach
until tomorrow," she suggested.

Before the others could respond, the homunculus scampered up to her, tugged on her pant leg and
pointed to the alchemist's tent. "Tomorrow," she told it. It stamped a little foot and pointed towards
the tent again. Pariah sighed. "Fine. Today."

She jumped down to the ground and stretched. She suppressed a groan as she saw Mahadi bustling
towards them. He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand and said firmly, "No."

He raised his eyebrows, an amused look spreading across his face. "No?" he asked.

"No," she repeated. "No Infernal Rapture. Not today. We have business with Elliach, then we are
going to the Bed of Bones. Sorry to be rude, but just no."

Mahadi hesitated and then inclined his head slightly. "Very well, though of course the pleasures of
the Infernal Rapture would bring smiles to your haggard faces and be more than worth the price.
However, I wish only for my visitors to be happy, so I will not press you at this time."

He turned and started back towards his establishment. Pariah mumbled to Lythienne, "If he really
wanted us to be happy, he could have helped unload."

They managed to manhandle the wings off the war machine, and Pariah and Lythienne carried
them as the others followed behind. Three bearded devils were standing outside the larva farm, and
they glared daggers as the group approached the alchemist's tent.

When Pariah got to the alchemist's tent, she stopped. The sign was dark and the rope was across the
entrance. "It's closed," she started to say, and then the tent flap opened and Elliach pulled aside the
rope. "Never mind," she said.

They followed him into the shop. He waved at an empty table and they laid out their prizes. Elliach
looked them over and rasped, "The engine parts as well."
"What?" Pariah said, confused. Then she remembered. "Oh, right," she groaned as she remembered
the war machine parts they had scavenged. They were heavy.

"We'll go," Rowan said, beckoning to Lythienne. "You get started."

Elliach carefully inspected each vial of blood and venom, each claw, and each of the two wings. He
tutted over the claws with the fractured ends. "Two thirds price for these," he hissed. He looked
over the wings. He snorted derisively at the broken one. "Useless." Then he grumbled, "I suppose
some of the membrane is salvageable, but I will pay only one fifth for this one."

Pariah wasn't sure that was a fair price, but what were they going to do, drive around Avernus
looking for someone who'd buy a broken devil wing? She said, "Remember, we keep all the
blood."

"I haven't forgotten," Elliach rasped.

By this time, the two engine pieces had been brought in. As Elliach was inspecting them, Pariah
asked, "What are these?" He didn't respond, and then she remembered he couldn't hear her. She
tapped him on the shoulder, which felt misshapen under his robe, and he turned to face her. "What
are these?" she asked again.

"These devices set up a feedback cycle that improves the efficiency of converting soul energy to
mechanical power, significantly increasing the top speed of a war machine," he replied before
going back to his inspection.

Pariah didn't know what all that meant, but she understood "increasing the top speed". Once he
looked up she said, "So we each take one?"

"Mahadi will require his cut, which will come to five hundred chits if you wish to take one of these
for your war machine. The forge will charge another two hundred to install it, if you cannot do so
yourself."

That seemed like a lot. "We don't need any of these devil parts, other than the blood. You said
you'd buy them off of us. How much are you offering?"

He pulled a notebook and pencil out of his robes and began tallying up the haul. Pariah looked
over his shoulder but numbers tended to make her head spin. She could haggle pretty decently as
long as it was one thing at a time, but the arithmetic of this transaction was beyond her. However,
Farima was looking over his other shoulder, her face intense with concentration.

Finally he said, "The total payment will come to two thousand Emporium chits plus, of course, the
return of your deposited soul coin. I do not have that much cash on hand. I can offer soul coins for
each thousand, or I have a variety of potions I could offer in trade."

Farima said, "I would prefer not acquiring more soul coins."

Pariah nodded. "I tend to agree. Even if we get to the point we decide to use them as fuel, we have
enough for a while." She didn't want to give a specific number while Elliach was present. She
didn't think he'd actually try to steal them, but she had learned to be cautious around people.

Lythienne added, "And more soul coins means more nightmares."

"True," Pariah agreed. To Elliach she said, "Show us your potions, I guess."
Pariah tilted the vial back and forth, watching the black liquid crawl up the sides against gravity,
moving almost like it was alive. It was mesmerizing but also disturbing. She lowered the vial to see
Farima watching her sourly from across the table. Pariah ignored her as she put the vial away in her
satchel.

Farima had objected to using any of the alchemist's wares, since they were all based on fiendish
components. Most of them, like this abyssal oil, were distilled from demon ichor, but he also had
some products derived from yugoloth and devil excretions. Most of them had been potions, but
even Pariah hesitated at drinking something based on demon ichor no matter how safe Elliach had
sworn they were. He had a few concoctions meant to be thrown, which would then burst into
anything from fire to acid, but they all had disturbingly large areas of effect and would be hard to
use safely. In the end, she had settled for this oil that could be poured along her blade. It was a
venom that even devils and demons were susceptible to, and something she wished she'd had in the
battle against Shummrath.

His limited selection of wares that they felt comfortable buying, combined with his lack of large
sums of cash, meant they had ended up keeping three of the pit fiend claws. It was either that or
take another soul coin, and none of them wanted to do that. Elliach said that the claws had a
number of uses so it was possible they would find someone else willing to buy. He had no idea
whether or not Mordenkainen might be one of those people.

They had also stopped at the forge to request the new engine part be installed. At the moment they
were sitting around a table in the Bed of Bones, the remains of their meal in front of them. Pariah
was vaguely aware of a dice game going on but was too tired to think about joining. Lythienne
hadn't even eyed the stage. Rowan said, "Should we do a prayer session and then head to bed?"

"Sure," Pariah said. They all stood except for Farima, who was staring blankly at the table. They
hesitated. Pariah said, "Farima?"

The woman looked up. "Yes?" she asked, and then seemed surprised to see the others standing.
"Oh, are we leaving?"

"Yeah," Rowan said. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Farima said dismissively as she stood.

They stepped out of the tent and turned towards the parking area. Pariah saw a bearded devil
leaning against one of the war machines. As soon as he spotted them, he straightened up and started
towards them, gripping his glaive tightly. She felt the hairs on her neck stand up, and her hand
reflexively went to the hilt of her sword.

She looked around and saw the other two bearded devils behind them, also alert and closing in. As
the one in front moved to block their path, Pariah's mind was quickly evaluating the situation.
There were times to be courteous. There were times to be obsequious. And there were times to be
aggressive.

"Get out of my way," she snarled.

He wasn't impressed. "You mortals think you can just come in here, loaded down with butchered
parts, and we'll let you pass?"

She snorted. "This place serves human meat. You think that's any different?"

He growled. "Livestock is on the menu as it should be. You filthy mortals and that disgusting
celestial need to learn your place."

The mortals had formed into a defensive circle, facing outward. Lythienne said to the others, "What
about the no fighting rule?"

Pariah ignored her. She reached into her satchel. "You saw the parts we brought in. They were the
wings of a tak'dzaith." She slowly withdrew one of the pit fiend's claws. "Look here, another one of
our trophies. After killing something like that, do you think something as pathetic as you scares
us?"

That caused the bearded devil to hesitate. "You are wounded," he said. "Weak. We strike now, kill
you, eat you."

He wasn't wrong about them being wounded. Pariah knew they could beat these three if they were
rested, but she didn't want to take the chance in their current condition. She snorted in derision.
"More likely, we kill you and sell your parts to Elliach. More money for us. Fewer weak devils
cluttering up Avernus."

"Why don't we find out," it said, bringing its glaive to the ready.

"Gentlemen!" a familiar voice rang out, friendly but firm, cutting through the air like a bolt of
lightning. "You wouldn't be planning to break my rules, would you?"

The devil glanced over Pariah's shoulder and immediately lowered his weapon. "No," he grumbled.

"Ladies," Mahadi said, stepping into Pariah's vision. "Understand the ban on fighting applies even
to self-defense. If you wish to fight, you will do it outside my domain, or risk being permanently
banned from the Emporium."

Pariah forced herself to relax and take her hand off her weapon. "Wouldn't think of it," she said,
still carefully watching the bearded devil in front of her.

"Splendid," Mahadi said with a warm smile. "Then why don't you all be about your own business."

The bearded devil in front of Pariah gestured to the others and they headed towards one of the
parked war machines. One of them shouldered Pariah roughly as he passed and she stiffened but
carefully kept her hands where they were. Mahadi shot the devil a glare.

The devils gathered at the war machine but didn't look like they were getting ready to leave. Pariah
said, "I think we might want to skip that prayer session." As soon as they stepped outside the
Emporium, the devils would be free to attack.

Rowan said, "Mahadi, just to be clear, would a prayer session violate the no magic rule?"

"If you wish to speak to your goddess, then that is no business of mine," Mahadi said. "However, if
you wish to summon Lady Luck's divine protection, then that would violate the rules. You would
need to step outside our borders to do that."

"I understand," Rowan sighed. "Pariah's right. We'll have to skip it tonight."

Mahadi said, "All the rest and recreation you need can be found at the Infernal Rapture. I hope you
will grant us the privilege of serving your every need."

"What's that?" Lulu asked abruptly.

Pariah was confused by her question, but then she realized that Lulu wasn't talking about the
Infernal Rapture. She was looking up towards something in the distance. Pariah turned and saw a
black object hanging in the red sky, the object a bit bigger than her thumb held at arm's length. She
couldn't tell what it was or how far away it was, but as she watched it seemed to be getting bigger.

"My, my, my," Mahadi said softly. "Aren't we blessed?"

"Blessed?" Farima asked. "By whom?"

Mahadi didn't reply. He studied the approaching object with a hint of a frown between his
eyebrows. Pariah caught him give Lulu a quick sideways glance, and he pursed his lips just
slightly as he went back to studying the object.

"What is it?" Pariah asked.

"Nothing important," he said dismissively, turning away from the object. "The devil commanders
travel around in those flying fortresses. They are really quite interesting. If you won't join me in the
Infernal Rapture, then perhaps you will allow me to treat you to a round of drinks in the Bed of
Bones. I can tell you some exciting stories about the fortresses. Come along." He started moving
towards the nearby tent

Rather than following him, Pariah turned back to watch the object. It was already twice the size it
had been and yet still seemed to be at least a half-mile off. It must be hundreds of feet tall and a
couple of thousand feet in the air. She could hear a faint rumbling growing in volume.

"I know that thing," Lulu said slowly. "I remember it." She started to get excited. "I remember it!
It's Zariel!" She sped off towards the fortress.

"Lulu, stop!" Pariah shouted. The fortress was moving too fast, flying too high. There was no way
the hollyphant could catch up, but that wasn't stopping her. "Talona's tits," Pariah said. Her wings
grew out of her back and she flew off after Lulu.

Actually, she didn't. She knew she wasn't anywhere near as fast as the hollyphant, but she knew
that Lulu was flying towards the huge fortress that was racing towards them. Pariah instead flew
straight up. Lulu curved back as the fortress passed over her, vainly hoping to catch up, and Pariah
was able to intercept her.

The fortress was shaped like a sword blade cutting through the air, wide at the top where the hilt
would be, and narrowing to a long, curved spike at the tip. Ornate decorations were carved into a
surface of what looked like black stone. It was slashing through the air faster than anything she'd
ever seen fly. Its engine was deafeningly loud now, and Pariah struggled to maintain altitude as she
felt a force pushing her down towards the ground.

"Lulu, stop!" she shouted again as the black fortress loomed over her, her voice lost in the flying
vehicle's roar. "You can't catch her. She's too fast."

I have to try, said Lulu's voice in her head as the hollyphant continued to chase after Zariel's craft.
The fortress quickly outdistanced her as it raced across the river without slowing, and Lulu's small
form disappeared after it.

Come back, Pariah thought futilely in her direction. We need you. Lulu didn't respond.

Pariah stopped, hovering in the air as the fortress disappeared across the River Styx, a little golden
speck following it. Chasing Lulu would be as reckless as Lulu chasing Zariel. Avernus was just too
dangerous to be wandering alone. Reluctantly, Pariah turned and flew back to the Wandering
Emporium and landed among the others who had been watching helplessly.

"Why didn't you tell us that was Zariel?" she demanded of Mahadi as she stomped up to him.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Watch your tone, young woman," he said in a hard-edged voice. "I
was trying to prevent Lulu from doing exactly what she did. Even if she catches up with Zariel, it is
not likely to go well for her. The archduke is not the person Lulu remembers her to be."

Pariah studied him, trying to read a hint of his true motives, but she got the same blank wall she
always got. She stepped back from him. "You know about Lulu's past with Zariel?"

"I do," he said. "I became aware of it after our previous association, though it was not that
surprising. What else could explain a hollyphant's presence here?"

She had no doubt he was lying, she just wasn't sure about what.

Farima said, "We should go after her."

"How?" Lythienne asked. "They crossed the river."

"Where is the nearest crossing?" Farima asked Mahadi.

He pointed in the direction they had gone to get to the Pit of Shummrath. "About a day that way."

"Blast." She turned to the others. "What can we do?"

They were silent. Pariah felt guilty that she hadn't flown after Lulu, even though she knew she
wouldn't have been able to keep up and it had been the smart decision to come back.

Rowan clutched the Tymoran coin around her neck. "I'm not sure we can do anything other than
hope she comes to her senses and comes back. Mahadi, when are you planning to move the
Emporium?"

He gazed off in the direction Lulu had gone. "I had actually been planning to move fairly soon, but
I think I shall stay for a while to see if our friend returns. I am worried about her as well."

Rowan turned to the others. "There's nothing we can do now. Let's get some rest. See if she comes
back by morning. If not, well, then we'll figure out what we want to do then."

Pariah didn't want to rest. She wanted to rush after Lulu, and she was pretty sure the others did as
well. Even Lythienne seemed concerned about her. But Pariah couldn't think of anything useful.
"Fhet'Ahla can send messages, right?" she asked Mahadi. "Would he be able to send a message to
Lulu?"

"He would," Mahadi replied genially. "If she has not returned by the time you've rested, that would
be a splendid idea to find her."

"That might be best," she sighed. She thought about sending a message immediately, but Lulu
already knew they wanted her back. They just had to hope she came back on her own by morning.
"Let's go set up the tent."

Farima was looking towards Burney's, determination on her face. "You go ahead. I feel the sudden
need for a haircut." She headed towards the barber's tent without waiting for an answer.
Chapter End Notes

The Abyssal Oil is from "Hamund's Harvesting Handbook: Volume 3", though I've
tweaked it to be more useful. Normally, like most oils, it takes a minute to apply and
lasts an hour. That's fine in a dungeon type setting where you expect a lot of combat.
I've changed it so it's ten doses that take a round to apply and then lasts a minute. Of
course, then I completely forgot I had it and never used it.

The engine part is horseshoes of speed, but for war machines.

Tak'dzaith is my Infernal version of Pit Fiend. All the other devils have cool Infernal
names, why don't pit fiends?
 A Rude Awakening
Chapter Summary

Lulu has flown off to chase Zariel's flying fortress, leaving the group behind in the
Wandering Emporium.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah was being shaken. A voice said, "Wake up, Lulu has returned."

"Wuh?" Pariah said as she came out of the nightmare she'd been in. She blinked and looked around
to see Lulu standing outside the opening of their tent.

"Invite her in," Farima said sternly.

Pariah was still coming out of sleep, but Farima's words penetrated. "Lulu, come in," she croaked
as she sat up. The others were stirring as well.

"You are hurt!" Farima said, and that jerked Pariah into full wakefulness. "Rowan, attend to her,"
Farima insisted.

Lulu had a gash on her hindquarters, and looked like she was missing some feathers from her wing.
Pariah also noticed some swelling along her left shoulder.

Rowan reached for her Tymoran symbol, but Lythienne said quickly, "No magic!"

"Shit!" Rowan said. Hesitantly she added, "I suppose we could take her outside." She reflexively
looked out the tent opening, though the tent faced the outer ring of war machines so they wouldn't
have been able to see the bearded devils who might still be lying in wait.

"I'm fine," Lulu said morosely. "I'll go see Burney. I just wanted to let you know I was back."

Farima reached out to put a hand on her back. "We were very worried about you. I am pleased you
have returned." She hesitated and then chastised, "You should not have flown off like that."

"I know," Lulu said as she sat down. She was looking down at the ground and was obviously very
upset.

"Did you catch up to her?" Pariah asked.

"No. She was too fast. I chased her and chased her but I was getting lost. And then a bunch of
quasits attacked me. I got away because I was faster. I found my way to the river and followed it
back here." Her voice was dull, her usual brightness gone.

"I'm glad you're back," Pariah said, reaching out to scratch the top of her head. She wanted to bawl
her out for being so reckless, but this wasn't the time for that.

"There's something else," Lulu added. "When I saw the fortress, I knew it was hers. But I
remember being there before. I was on a leash and surrounded by people. There was a woman
dressed in colorful silks that seemed to chase themselves around her. There were a pair of horned
devils with pitch-black skin, several imps, and...Mahadi. He was holding my leash."

The group silently digested that fact. Farima asked, "Were you a prisoner?"

Lulu gave a small sigh. "I'm not sure. I was really confused and fuzzy. I remember starting to
wander off and Mahadi tugging me back into the group, so maybe he was just keeping me safe
because I was confused."

"What about Zariel?"

Lulu furrowed her brow. "I don't remember her, just her fortress, though I remember we were going
to go see her. It was on the ground. Well, floating just a little above the ground. I don't think it
actually lands. A door was open in the side and a silver platform was floating down from the door
to the ground. There was a bearded devil in the doorway and I think he was operating the platform.
We boarded it and it started to float back up." She shook her head. "That's all I remember."

Indignantly, Farima said, "I think we should go question Mahadi."

Pariah mulled over the idea and then said, "I think we shouldn't. If he had wanted Lulu to know
that, he would have told her. In fact, I think we should keep it a secret that Lulu remembers him
taking her to Zariel." She looked around the tent suspiciously. "That is, assuming there are any
secrets from him here. He always seems to know what's going on."

Farima snorted, and then said, "Come, Lulu, I will take you to Burney for healing."

That reminded Pariah of something. When they had set up the tent, Pariah had meant to wait for
Farima to come back from her visit to the barber, but was so exhausted that she had fallen asleep
instantly. "Did you find out anything useful from her?" she asked Farima.

The woman cocked her head as she thought about it. "Well, I remember our conversation, so that
was new."

"Oh?" Pariah said in surprise. "Why do you think that is?"

Farima shook her head. "I do not know. It may simply be a sign of trust. I told her about Lulu's
flight and she was quite concerned for her safety. She said she had no way to get us across the
river." She frowned. "I am hesitant to impugn her character without evidence, but I suspect she was
not telling me the entire truth about that."

"You think she did have a way across the river?" Pariah asked. That could be useful.

"Perhaps. Perhaps I am just indulging in wishful thinking. Anyhow, she said Zariel often flies
along the battle lines, occasionally stopping to order the troops, spearhead offensives and so on.
She has a palace far from here, but since the demon invasion she has mostly lived aboard her
fortress."

Lulu asked, a hint of excitement coming back to her voice, "You think she'll come back here?"

Farima looked at her, the corners of her mouth tight. "I do not know," she said, and Pariah could
tell she was lying. Farima continued, "Lulu, I implore you to remember that we are trying to save
Elturel, and I believe you may be important in that effort. I am sympathetic to your desire to find
your friend, but I ask that you wait until the innocent mortals in the city above are safe."
"I guess," Lulu said reluctantly. "But maybe if I can talk to her, I can tell her to let everybody go."

Pariah was surprised by her tone. Even though she said it, Lulu clearly didn't believe her own
statement.

"Let us pursue other avenues in the meantime," Farima said diplomatically. "Now, let us get you
some medical care."

Rowan said, "Should we come with you?"

"No," Farima said. "We are safe while within the borders of the Emporium. You should all get
back to sleep. Besides, if Pariah leaves, the tent collapses."

Pariah knew that was correct. She had pitched the tent so the magic was tied to her. She didn't want
to argue because, now that the joy of seeing Lulu again was starting to wear off, her fatigue was
returning. "All right," she said as she laid down again. "Be careful."

The rain pulled Pariah out of sleep, and she sputtered as the water ran down her face. She looked
around in confusion as she realized they were still inside the tent. Lythienne and Rowan were just
sitting up from their bedrolls, looking as befuddled and bedraggled as she felt. Farima was
standing, her hands raised towards the roof of the tent, chanting a spell, looking around in a panic.

"What's going on?" Lythienne asked.

Pariah climbed to her feet. "Farima!" she snapped. The other woman seemed in a daze and it took a
moment for her to turn to look at the tiefling. Pariah said, "What are you doing?"

Farima lowered her hands and the rain stopped. Farima looked around the tent, bewildered. "It
was...there was...everything was on fire," she stammered.

"We're not on fire," Pariah barked, and then she took a breath to calm down. "You must have had a
nightmare." She looked down at herself and shook her arms to shed the water. Her clothes were
soaked through.

"I am sorry," Farima said, still looking around in confusion. "I am sorry."

"It's fine," Pariah forced out. "If this is the worst thing that happens to us today, then I guess we're
having a pretty good day."

Lythienne said, "I suppose none of us are going back to sleep after that. Perhaps we should get
breakfast, after a change of clothes."

They changed, and drier clothes helped their mood, and then they gathered their things and headed
into the Bed of Bones. Pariah stopped to grab the cloth bundle the tent shrunk into so she could
return it to Ragrom.

Mahadi was standing at the entrance to the Bed of Bones, his arms folded, his face still friendly but
his eyes hard. "Were my rules not clear?" he asked.

"Talona's tits," Pariah mumbled. There were no secrets from him here.

Farima quickly stepped forward, bowed slightly at the waist, and said, "Please forgive me, Master
Mahadi. I did not intend to break your rules deliberately. I had a nightmare and did not even realize
that I was casting a spell. If you must punish me then I will understand, but please do not penalize
my companions for my infraction."

His eyes flicked over the group, stopping to rest on Lulu. "I'm pleased you have returned safely," he
said to her. To the rest of the group he continued, "In light of the drama of recent events, and the
fact that the spell was not cast in anger or as part of an attack, I shall settle for a warning." His
voice hardened. "Your only warning."

His warm smile returned and he stepped aside, waving towards the Bed of Bones. "Please, enjoy
your stay."

The group entered and sat down to the usual unpleasant breakfast. The only other customer in the
Bed of Bones was a grizzled hobgoblin with a large, old burn scar along the side of his face that
had left a bald patch above his left ear. He was bigger than most of the hobgoblins she'd seen, so he
was probably a boss of some kind. He watched them while he picked his pointed teeth with a knife.

Pariah was still annoyed at being woken up unexpectedly, especially since Farima's action had
nearly gotten them kicked out of the Wandering Emporium. She had been restless all night before
Lulu had come back, drifting in and out of sleep despite her exhaustion. Even after the hollyphant's
return, Pariah had found it hard to stay asleep. She kept dreaming Lulu was gone and waking up to
make sure she was still with them.

She was tired and irritated and, by the time they had finished their meal, she had a headache that
soured her mood further. On top of that, she was annoyed that the others were wasting food. They
pushed their plates away with plenty of edible scraps left. This was so typical of people who'd
never struggled. They wasted food while others starved, leaving people like her to paw through
their garbage.

"Leave it," she said sharply as Shyntraen came to clear the plates. She took their meals and scraped
the leftovers onto her plate and continued eating. She was full, and her stomach was starting to
rumble from the low quality of the cuisine, but you never leave food behind because you never
know when your next meal was going to be.

Rowan said to Lythienne and Farima, "Why don't you two go check on the war machine. See if
they are finished installing that new part. Lulu, you too. Pariah and I will hang around here for a
bit."

After they left, Rowan said gently, "What's going on?"

"Hmm?" Pariah grunted around a mouthful of some unidentified succulent.

"You seem off this morning. Nightmares?" She took a sip of her ale.

Pariah scraped the last bits of food into a pile. "I'm fine," she said as she shoveled the final bite in.

"You're not," Rowan said. She studied Pariah with a look of concern. "We have to keep an eye out
for each other. You seem particularly stressed this morning."

"Didn't sleep much," she said in response to Rowan's remark. "I'll be fine." She didn't want to talk
right now, wanted Rowan to back off. "Besides, you're one to talk."

"What?" Rowan asked in confusion.

Pariah pursed her lips. She hadn't meant to say anything. "Nothing. Forget it."

"No, I want to hear what you have to say," Rowan said, her voice sharp.
Pariah met her gaze and debated. She knew she should stay silent, but her mouth moved anyhow.
"Ale for breakfast again? Do you even drink water anymore?"

Rowan's face clouded. "And what's wrong with that? I'm stressed. It helps me relax."

Pariah made a dismissive motion, but Rowan wasn't satisfied. "If you have something to say, then
say it," she demanded.

Hotly, Pariah retorted, her voice rising, "Because the last time you went on a binge, you ended up
crying in my arms. And the last time I went on a binge, I ended up crying in your arms. And we're
a couple of sad, sappy drunks. And I'm worried about you!"

"Well, I'm worried about you too!" Rowan yelled back. "And I'm worried about the spellcaster
who summoned a storm in our tent because of a nightmare! And I'm worried about the elf with
anger issues who can kill us with her bare hands! And I'm worried about the hollyphant who wants
abandon us to be with her friend the archdevil!"

They glared at each other for a moment, and then Pariah let out a sigh that ended in a bitter laugh
as she looked down at her empty plate. "Well, Lythienne actually hasn't been so bad lately."

Rowan also released a long breath. "That's true. I guess that trip to the spa really helped her. If I
trusted Mahadi at all, I might try it myself." She looked off towards the tent entrance as she took a
pull on her ale. "And I don't even have to look to know you are making that expression again."

Pariah realized she had a judgmental frown on her face and quickly rearranged her features.
"Sorry," she grunted. "Worried."

"Yeah, I know," Rowan grumbled. She raised the mug. "It helps, all right?"

"All right," Pariah said. "I'll shut up." She eyed the utensils in her hand. They were made of cheap
metal, the knife was dull. They weren't worth much, probably only a fraction of a token, but every
little bit helped. Of course Rowan would probably object, but maybe she could distract the other
woman and slip them into her bag.

She looked up to see Shyntraen watching her nervously, ready to clear the plates, and that gave her
pause. He'd get in trouble. Ragrom would blame him if anything disappeared. She tossed the
utensils down and pushed the plate away in irritation, signaling the drow to collect the dishes. She
looked around and saw the hobgoblin still picking his teeth and watching them with a bored air.
"Let's go see if the war machine is ready," she grumbled as she stood. "Go find out where we are
supposed to go. Hopefully Olanthius is nearby. I don't want to drive all over Avernus looking for
him."

They found Lythienne just climbing aboard their vehicle, getting ready to drive it around the edge
of the marketplace and back to the parking area. As Lythienne started it up, Pariah stared sourly at
the machine, wondering if it had been worth it. Supposedly the vehicle would go faster but they
could have gotten more money from Elliach by selling it to him, not to mention they would have
saved the cost of installation. The others were wasting money. They needed to be more careful,
since they had no idea what expenses they might have later.

They followed the war machine on foot to the parking area, where Lythienne cut the engine.
Rowan said, "We should probably leave immediately, head for Mordenkainen's tower."

"If it's still there," Pariah said. She didn't know how long he tended to stay in Avernus.

"Even more reason to leave now," Rowan observed. She paused and then added, "I guess it's my
turn to fuel."

"Let's wait," Pariah said quickly. "I don't want these assholes laughing at your pain like they did at
the tower."

Rowan looked around. There wasn't anyone nearby; in particular there was no sign of the bearded
devils who had harassed them earlier. "All right. We still have a little fuel. We could drive a couple
of miles and then do it. I don't mind putting it off."

"Can you tell what it is?" Rowan asked through the earring.

Pariah studied the shape in the distance through the goggles. At first she had thought it was a
strange rock formation. They had seen a few during their trip through the hills. After Rowan had
refueled the machine, she had mapped a different, more direct route to the Tower of Urm, one they
hoped would avoid the nupperibos and stirges around the shore of the lake of blood. It was slower
going than the flat plains, and the jagged terrain occasionally exposed unearthly rock formations.

She pinched her earring. "It's floating. It looks like there are chains holding it to the ground.
Something is flying around it. Three somethings in fact."

"Is it made of rock?" Lythienne asked.

The structure was wider at the top and narrower at the bottom. It kind of reminded her of an animal
heart, though an enormous one. As they drove towards it, it just kept getting bigger and bigger. "I
don't think so," she said. "The surface looks like it's moving. Rippling or something."

"Could it be alive?"

Suddenly its resemblance to a heart seemed more disturbing. "I don't know," Pariah admitted.

Farima interjected, "I must again object to investigating this anomaly. We have a destination. We
should not get side tracked."

Pariah thought this strange object might contain something valuable, and Farima's faintheartedness
wasn't going to deter her. "It's not out of our way," she said firmly. "We'll just look it over.
Remember, when we explored those wrecked war machines we got that faster engine."

Farima said sternly, "And when we explored that ship, you nearly died."

Pariah snorted. "I'll try not to die this time."

As they drove closer, the shape was less distorted by the Avernian atmosphere and came into
clearer focus. Pariah still couldn't tell what it was. It seemed reddish in color, but she was starting
to think it was the sourceless light from the red sky tinting a dull, white surface. It didn't seem like
stone. It seemed like something softer, more organic. And the movement she could see on the
surface confused her.

Finally she thought she understood. "I think those are wings moving. I think there are things
trapped there, like flies trapped in honey. Their wings are flapping."

Rowan said nervously, "Uh, Pariah, are those flying things coming towards us?"

"Just a moment," Pariah said, still trying to make sense of the strange object.

"Pariah!" Rowan said more sharply.

 Hearing the alarm in Rowan's voice, Pariah forced herself to focus on the shapes coming towards
them. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to something that was closer, but as they became clear
she felt her stomach drop. "Wasps!" she yelled.

"Quickly, turn away!" Farima said to Lythienne

"Wait," Pariah insisted. "We can fight these things."

There were only three of them at the moment, but Pariah saw three more rising from an opening in
the nest and moving to join the others. For all she knew, there could be a dozen more inside. Her
greed battled with her prudence.

Lythienne turned the vehicle, but then suddenly the war machine lurched and tipped forward.
Pariah grabbed the railing next to the harpoon. Flashing back to the disaster after Raggadragga's
war machine had rammed them, she did a quick survey of the group but everyone was still aboard.
She looked ahead and saw that the ground had collapsed as Lythienne had started to turn and they
were now tilted down into a wide crevice that had opened up in the earth. Smoke rose from the
crack and Pariah could smell brimstone.

Lythienne pulled back on the throttle and the vehicle heaved backward, climbing back up onto firm
ground. Two streams of energy passed by Pariah as Farima tried to hit the distant wasps but the
beams went wide. The war machine turned and raced along the crevice, but the angle was such that
the wasps were moving to intercept them.

As the wasps closed, Farima fired another pair of beams, this time hitting one, but the creatures
weren't intimidated. Pariah summoned the cold into her armor and her sword into her hand as she
watched the three nearest wasps approach. The other three were on a different intercept course, but
they would be arriving soon.

The vehicle turned sharply and bucked as it drove across a narrower part of the crevice. Once
across, they picked up speed as they roared down the slope into one of the many valleys. Even
though Lythienne couldn't drive full speed in the uneven terrain, they were going fast enough that
the wasps were quickly being left behind. They chased the war machine for a while, but soon gave
up and turned back to the hive.

Pariah watched sourly as the hive disappeared behind them, wondering what treasures had been
lost due to the timidity of her companions.

Chapter End Notes

I don't know who the woman in flowing silks in Lulu's memory is. The memory is
from the remix, but I can't find anything else that says who she is. I know what the
event was, that was elsewhere in the remix, but there is no mention of the woman. I
liked the imagery so I left her in.

They happened to drive past the hellwasp nest that is where Lulu is supposed to be
abducted to in the module. I briefly considered having Lulu push them to attack -- the
nests are actually made from the bodies of dead celestials and she might want some
kind of revenge -- but I didn't see that would add much other than a little loot. I'm
trying to keep the story more streamlined in hopes of finishing it by the end of the
year.
 A Mage's Help
Chapter Summary

The party continues towards the Tower of Urm to bring the pit fiend blood to
Mordenkainen.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Pariah was pleased when she crested the hill and saw the dark iron of the Tower of Urm on the
horizon. She was getting exhausted and knew if she drove much further she'd risk falling asleep
like she had before. She was relieved that Mordenkainen was still here in Avernus, since she didn't
relish camping for days among the yugoloths gathered at the base.

The number on her palm read 13, and that included two breaks for eating and resting. Rowan had
been confident that they could reach the tower in one long day of driving, and Pariah was glad they
had pushed through. After the hive, the trip had been mostly uneventful. They had spotted a herd of
about two dozen four-legged creatures made of bone, and had given them a wide berth.

Later they had seen an explosion of fireballs shooting into the sky from a spot several miles to their
right. The fireballs had arced several hundred feet into the air before coming back down, and
Pariah was glad their vehicle hadn't been nearby. Even though the event had been far away, it had
left Farima upset and hyper-alert for similar explosions since.

As the war machine crossed the iron bridge, Pariah was disappointed to see the land beyond was
just as crowded with fiends as it had been on their first visit. She saw two fox-headed arcanaloths,
though their fur was much darker than the one from the ship so she knew that neither was Vorcas.
There were two groups of mezzoloths. She also spotted a lone nycaloth. She didn't think it was one
of the ones that had been there before and, though he watched them arrive like the others did, he
didn't seem to have any particular focus on her.

At another camp were four soldiers dressed in elaborate plate armor of silver and blue metal that
shone like it was polished. They stood motionless in a line, facing the tower, each bearing a
longsword and shield. They still wore their helmets. No hint of the flesh underneath peered
through. They didn't move at all and Pariah wondered if they were animated armor or even
humanoids.

Finally, there were three female fiends. They were naked and were a strange blend of human, bird
and spider. The human torso and thighs faded into sturdy, black-feathered avian calves with three-
toed taloned feet. Their scalps were decorated with feathers rather than hair. Their pale skin faded
down their arms to end in black claws. Six spider-like legs emerged from their backs.

Pariah guided the war machine to a clear space and cut the engine. As before, the fiends eyed the
newcomers but didn't seem immediately threatening. She stayed aware of them but didn't pay them
much attention. She was curious about the new fiends but certainly wasn't up to chatting with the
locals to find out what they were.

They unloaded their bedrolls and laid them out on the ground. Rowan served the last of the
Tymoran biscuits she had summoned earlier, and Pariah poured out a round of beers. They were in
the middle of the meal when every fiend in the place erupted into roars and shouting.

Pariah grabbed for her weapon, but realized they were signaling to the tower. Mordenkainen had
stepped out onto the balcony to survey the supplicants. Pariah was tired but it was obvious how
this went. She climbed to her feet to shout and wave like the fiends were. The others added their
voices to her call.

She was startled when Farima's voice boomed out from behind her, amplified by a spell. "Lord
Mordenkainen, we have brought the supplies you seek. Please grant us audience."

Mordenkainen didn't even spare the group a glance. He pointed to the three female fiends and he
said, "Keres, come to me," in that calm voice that magically cut through the noise. The fiends
snatched up their things and scurried towards the door on their spider legs, their bird legs held up in
the air and their black arms holding their meager possessions. The door opened and they
disappeared inside.

Pariah sighed and they resumed their seats. She wondered how long this was going to take.

She didn't bother maintaining her illusionary clock, so she quickly lost track of the time. Audiences
were always short, only a few minutes. Sometimes he took a new audience immediately;
sometimes he waited hours. Eventually the group started sleeping in shifts, though getting any real
rest was hard because every time Mordenkainen stepped out on the balcony, the yelling for his
attention began again. War machines roared as groups of petitioners came and went, though a few
traveled by foot or by wing.

Pariah was intrigued that, for all the hostile stares exchanged between the groups, no fights broke
out. She wondered if it was Mordenkainen's rule or an informal understanding among applicants.
Either way, she wasn't looking to pick fights so it was fine with her.

At least eight groups had been called into the building. Pariah was frustrated but all they could do
was wait. They didn't really have any other options. Her biggest concern was that Mordenkainen
would disappear, leaving them to wait for days until his tower returned.

He appeared on the balcony again. Pariah and the others yelled for his attention, though their
voices carried less enthusiasm than before. This time, his finger pointed to them. "Mortals, come to
me," he said and then went back into the tower.

It took her a second to realize that he hadn't rejected them again. She automatically started to sit
back down before the thought finally penetrated. She grabbed her things and the group of them
hurried towards the steps leading up. The door opened as they arrived, and they stepped into the
Tower of Urm.

The inside looked exactly the same as before: circular room, black and white marble floor, oak-
paneled walls. The scent in the air was different, more piney and less citrusy than before. The bald
man watched them from his mahogany wingback chair, his fingers steepled. As soon as the door
closed behind them, he said, "You have brought something for me." It was a statement not a
question.

Pariah was already pulling the vials from her satchel. "Pit fiend blood," she said as she crossed the
room to place the vials on the mahogany table in front of him.

He reached down to pick one up and study it carefully, rocking it back and forth in the light. He
did the same with the other vials. "Impressive," he admitted. "Did you by chance catch the name of
this pit fiend?"

"Shummrath, I think," Pariah said, trying to remember.

He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow slightly. "Really. Interesting."

"Is that important?" she asked.

"To me? No. To you? Perhaps."

That comment confused her. "Why would it be important to us?"

He gazed at her silently for a moment. "I assume you killed him to gather this." She nodded. He
gave her a hint of a smirk. "Then Bel will be angry with the mortals who freed his prisoner from his
eternal torment."

"Oh," Pariah said, feeling her stomach sink. That seemed obvious in hindsight. She didn't know
much about Bel, other than he was a powerful figure here in Avernus, and probably not someone
you wanted as an enemy. "Well," she said with as much indifference as she could muster, "what's
done is done."

He gathered up the vials and placed them in the coffer on the table. "I can give you a soul coin or
gold for this but, if I recall correctly, you wanted information."

"Yes," she said. "We are looking for the location of Olanthius, former general of Zariel."

His mouth tightened at the corners. "To what purpose?"

Pariah hadn't expected that question. Their plan to save Elturel was still nebulous, but probably not
something they wanted spreading around Avernus. "Is that part of the price?" she asked, trying to
keep her tone polite.

He narrowed his eyes just a bit. "No. I am merely curious how your actions will upset the balance
of things." He paused with a questioning look. Pariah met his gaze wordlessly. After a few
seconds, he sighed, "Very well, I know the location and can tell you, if that is what you want in
return for the pit fiend blood."

Rowan stepped forward, pulling the map out of her satchel. "Could you show us?" She unrolled the
map on the table in front of him.

He bent forward to look at the map, and his eyebrows rose slightly. He grunted and then mumbled,
"Is that where that ended up."

Rowan frowned. "You know the history of this map?"

He ignored her as he reached out to touch a spot on the map. Pariah forced herself to look and was
surprised to see the map change beneath his touch. A simple drawing of a building appeared as
well as the Infernal words, "Crypt of Olanthius".

"You will find him here," he said as he leaned back.

Pariah was surprised when the cool air turned much colder. She took a step back, suspecting a trap
or double-cross, but the man was simply watching her with curiosity. Her breath fogged and a
familiar voice crawled through her brain.

"And so, my loyal slave, despite your pretended defiance, you arrive at the destination I had
foreseen. You have found the location of the other general, and so I will reward you as I said I
would. I will grant you power but, more importantly, I will shield your mind to protect my secrets.
None shall be able to read your thoughts or your true intentions. You think unity among your group
is important, but betrayal will save your city of mortals."

Pariah was leaning heavily on the table. She was vaguely aware that Mordenkainen was rising
from his chair, but her attention was focused inside. "I have no secrets from them. I will not lie to
them or betray them!"

"So you say, but soon you will see the folly of your words. For now, find the general Olanthius and
speak to the thing he has become."

"Fuck off," she grated. "I don't work for you anymore."

The dark voice chuckled. "You are bound to me whether you desire it or not. You wish to find
Olanthius. I wish you to find Olanthius. This is the clear path to saving your fellow mortals,
including those standing near you now. Is your pride so strong that you will defy me even at the
expense of your friends' lives? I think not. No, you will wail and cry, but you will obey. And so
you will grow stronger and more valuable as my tool."

She heard Mordenkainen's voice, muffled and unclear. "Levistus, depart this place at once," he
demanded.

The voice chuckled again. "The mortal thinks he commands me. He thinks that because he has a
trickle of power, he can give orders to one of the Nine. Give him a message for me. Tell him that
the witch clone is here and seeks to undo his plans."

Pariah felt the cold energies leave her. She took a couple of deep breaths and then straightened up.

Mordenkainen was glaring at her. "This is not a place for you to deal with your personal business.
Our transaction is done," he said firmly. "Leave."

As before, Pariah felt a compulsion that pushed her towards the door but she stopped. She debated,
not wanting to do Levistus's bidding, but she was curious about Mordenkainen's reaction. "He had a
message for you. He said to tell you that the witch clone is here to undo your plans."

His anger faded into puzzlement. He looked away as he considered her statement. "Is she?" he
muttered to himself, lost in thought. He looked back at her. "Is that all?" he demanded.

She shrugged. "That's all he said."

He waved her away. "Then go."

Again the compulsion pulled at her, but she fought it and reached into her satchel to withdraw the
three pit fiend claws. "Are these worth anything to you? We don't need money or soul coins. I'm
looking for magic or important information on how to save Elturel."

He pursed his lips as he glanced at the claws. She could see the debate on his face, but then he
opened the coffer on the table and reached inside. He withdrew a monocle on a silver chain. The
lens was colored a foggy gray. "This lens allows you to analyze the details of a living target once
per day. I will trade it for all three claws."

The monocle was a less impressive object than she had hoped to get. Mordenkainen was harder to
read than the average person, but not as blank as people like Mahadi. Based on what little she
could see of him, he didn't seem to be lying or trying to cheat her, mostly just impatient for her to
be on her way. To be fair, though the lens seemed to have only limited usefulness, the claws were
completely worthless to her. "Fine," she said reluctantly, handing the claws over. She took the lens
and they exited the tower.

Nobody was waiting to enter the tower as they left. They crossed to their war machine under the
watchful eyes of a dozen or so fiends. Pariah said to Rowan, "So you know where we need to go?"

She had put the map away before they left the tower. "Yes. It's not that far, probably a day of
driving." She shrugged. "Depending on what's in between, I guess."

"Should we head out right away?" the tiefling asked uncertainly.

Lythienne said, "I think we should drive away from this place and find a good place to camp.
Between the long drive to get here and the unpleasant surroundings, even by Avernian standards, I
don't think any of us are well rested."

Farima said, "Elturel is in danger every day we wait," though her tone was not confident.

Pariah said, "No, I think Lythienne's probably right. I'm pretty beat, and we know we have a lot of
dangers in front of us. Better to be at our best."

"I suppose that is true," Farima admitted.

They had climbed onto the war machine. Lythienne looked at the gauge on the fuel tank critically.
"As we did before, I'd rather drive away from this place before taking my turn to provide fuel. I'll
drive."

She headed towards the driver's seat, but Farima said, "One moment, before the sound of the
engine makes conversation difficult." She turned to Pariah and asked suspiciously, "What were you
saying in there about betrayal?"

"What?" Pariah said in confusion. Then she remembered and grimaced. "Oh, that." She turned to
Lulu. "Lulu, can you read my thoughts?"

The hollyphant looked at her and then cocked her head. "No. It's like there's a wall there. Did he do
that?"

Pariah blew out a sigh. "Yes. He told me that I'm going to betray the rest of you, so he was going to
help me keep secrets. I told him to get fucked."

She looked at the others. Nobody seemed bothered except Farima, who gave off an aura of
mistrust. Pariah said to her, "I'm not going to lie to any of you."

Farima frowned but admitted, "I am inclined to believe your intent, but the fiends have a way of
tricking mortals, of corrupting them. I warn you to be very careful of anything he says."

Rowan said, "What did he ask you to do?"

"He said we have to speak to Olanthius."

Farima continued to watch her carefully. "And that was his only request?" she asked, her tone
heavy with skepticism.

Pariah grew angry. "Really? That's all it takes for him to turn us against each other? He just hints I
might lie someday and now you don't trust me?"
Farima looked contrite. "No," she said quickly. "My apologies. You are correct. I should not allow
myself to be so easily manipulated by evil."

Pariah was still annoyed at how quickly Farima had seemed to turn on her, but she forced out, "It's
fine. This place is getting to all of us."

She remembered the lens they had gotten. She took it out of her satchel and looked at it, flipping it
over to view each side. It was nicely made though simple in design. She frowned as she examined
it. "This is magic," she said.

"That's what he told us," Lythienne said.

Pariah shook her head. "No, I mean it's magic. I can tell." There was something about it, like an
aura just beyond the range of her seeing. She looked at the others. Farima's gauntlet, and
Lythienne's gloves and circlet gave off the same feeling to her. Even Rowan's mechanical hand
emitted a trace of it. "I think I can see magic now."

Rowan said, "That's something else Levistus gave you?"

"I guess," she said. She realized she had new knowledge in her head, new lines of power she could
sense, power that led to the frigid plane of Stygia. She looked up into the sky over the lake, just to
the right of the bridge. She reached out a hand and willed a trickle of Stygia's winter into the air of
Avernus. A cloud formed in the red sky about twenty feet over the surface of the boiling blood.
She continued to concentrate, and moisture began to fall into the lake. Colder, colder she willed it,
and the rain turned to sleet roaring down onto the roiling surface. She continued to focus, pulling in
more frigid air, turning the sleet to ice. The cloud released a barrage of hailstones the size of her
fist that splashed down into the boiling blood, agitating the surface even more. Steam began to rise
from the boiling lake as the hailstones hammered down.

Pariah relaxed. The connection faded, the downpour stopped and the cloud dissipated quickly as
the natural Avernian climate took over.

And she knew that wasn't all she could do.

"Huh," she said. "That was fun." She looked at the others and they seemed concerned by her
display of power, especially Farima. Pariah's irritation returned. "What? We can all do magic. Why
are you all suddenly worried about mine?"

Rowan said, "Because yours comes from a dangerous source. Look, Pariah, it's not that we don't
trust you. We don't trust him."

"So I shouldn't use this power?" she snapped.

"That's not what I said," Rowan said firmly.

Lythienne said, "Pariah, we just don't want to see you in his clutches. We know that you know to
be careful, but we worry about your safety anyhow. All of us need to be careful when dealing with
devils."

Pariah paused, noting the significant tone Lythienne had used for that last sentence, presumably an
unspoken reference to the offer she had received from Mahadi. "Fair enough," Pariah said.

She looked down at the lens in her hand. She held it out to Farima. "Let's see if this works. He said
it shows secrets. Use it on me. See if it shows if I'm working against you."
 Farima hesitated. "That will not be necessary," she said reluctantly.

"I'm serious," Pariah insisted. "Look, I'm not mad. Use it. I think it will make you feel better, and
we can see if it works."

Farima looked at the lens and then slowly reached out to take it. "I really do not think-"

"Just do it," Pariah said, keeping her voice gentle.

Farima glanced at the others and then raised the lens to her eye. "I am unsure how to use this. I
suppose I just concentrate on the information I want." She studied Pariah through it. Pariah tried to
relax. She wasn't trying to hide anything.

Farima looked startled. "You are telling the truth," she declared. "You are not conspiring against
us."

Pariah grimaced. "You don't need to sound quite so surprised," she teased.

Farima flushed slightly. "No, that is not what I meant. I truly did not think you were deceiving us. I
simply had not expected the device to give such a clear answer."

She handed it back but Pariah waved it away. "You keep it. I can already tell what people are
feeling." Wanting to change the subject, she said, "I think Lythienne's idea was a good one. Let's
get out of here and find some place to camp."

Chapter End Notes

Some of the new fiends are from The Book of Fiends.

I renamed the "Crypt of the Hellriders" to the "Crypt of Olanthius" because the
Hellrider name came later. That line about a protecting her mind is a narrative version
of giving her a Ring of Mind Shielding without making it a physical object. The lens is
a Lens of Insight from Hamund's Harvesting Handbook.

I can't remember if I've mentioned this, but each time Levistus visits signifies the party
gaining a level. They are now level 9.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!