Lady's Grace, cutters!

 

“Portals ... those blessed little holes in the fabric of the planes.

They are a thief's best friend, a planewalker's livelihood, and an archivist's nightmare.”

Addean, tiefling merchant

 

 

Second Void Day of Savorus, 126 HR

After it had been decided that the Chosen should search for the Keeper and the Proclaimer, everyone had taken a few more days to prepare for the journey. The grimace in the Hive that had spoken to Kiyoshi in the Old Tongue had said: " Find them under the skies of heaven. Find them where the land in the waves is like the stars in the sky. Find them where tears are like jewels . ” They had interpreted the last part to the effect that the grimace spoke of the gems called tears of heaven, found only in Elysium, and therefore declared this Upper Plane to be the destination of their journey. A portal to the Starry Rain Atoll had seemed most promising to them, and the key was even - significantly - a tear of heaven. Unfortunately, however, the portal was located in the Hive, so they had chosen inconspicuous, modest clothing in muted colors for the beginning of their journey, and nothing that looked even remotely Elysian. Morânia and Naghûl had met up with Sgillin and Lereia near the Great Gymnasium and then headed to the Barracks to meet Kiyoshi. Not only was it along the way, also no one felt quite comfortable letting the young Harmonium soldier walk through the Hive alone to said portal. The concierge, Lady Diana, immediately seemed to know what was going on and had a triaria named Jostos escort them to Kiyoshi's quarters on the upper floor. Morânia looked around with interest on the way there because, unlike her husband Naghûl, she had never been to the upper floor of the Barracks before. When they reached Kiyoshi’s door, Sgillin knocked and shortly afterwards the young prime opened. He was dressed in robes suitable for the Hive and held a backpack with luggage, obviously ready to leave. Just as he closed the door behind him, they heard swift, energetic footsteps coming down the corridor. It was none other than Factol Sarin himself, and Morânia, Naghûl, Lereia and Sgillin quickly bowed, while Kiyoshi immediately snapped to attention and saluted. The paladin did not seem surprised by their presence or their attire, so he obviously knew that they were on their way to the next mission. Mission. Morânia had to smile inwardly, for until recently she truly could not have imagined being on this kind of mission. Of course, strictly speaking, she wasn't doing this for the Harmonium, but for her own faction - but in Sarin's presence, it still felt a little like that.

"Lady's Grace," he greeted them with a curt nod. "Ready to set out?"

Naghûl nodded. "That's right, on our way straight to paradise, Factol."

The paladin raised his brows. "What tells me, Naghûl, that you do not mean Arcadia?"

His tone, however, was quite friendly and not without a certain tinge of self-mockery, so Naghûl only grinned mischievously and raised his shoulders in all innocence.

Kiyoshi, on the other hand, obviously had not quite understood the irony, for he looked at his factol in earnest. "To Elysium, venerable lord and master," he explained officiously.

Sarin shook his head with a slight grin. "Keeper and Proclaimer, I know. But it's good that I still meet you before you leave. I have something for you."

Morânia and the others watched with interest as he handed Kiyoshi a small pouch made of soft leather, embroidered with a few ornaments that mirrored those of the robes he often wore.

The young soldier accepted the gift with both hands and bowed. "Thank you, venerable factol," he said and then looked somewhat helplessly at the pouch in his hands.

"The pouch contains an amulet," Sarin explained. "It obscures a person's alignment, should the need arise. I'm not saying I have any fears ..." He waved it off with a short sigh. "Well, to be honest, I do have fears. Of course, I pray that everything goes well on this mission. But who can know for sure what lies ahead of you?"

Morânia nodded appreciatively. A useful gift, albeit not one to be taken for granted. Such pieces of jewelry were rare and expensive and could not be found on every corner of the Great Bazaar, even in Sigil.

Kiyoshi bowed again. "I thank you, venerable Factol Sarin-gensui," he declared. "A truly regal gift."

"Well, if you call me your daimyo ..." the paladin replied with a slightly raised eyebrow. "However, I am not normally so familiar with the troops. So please keep that to yourself, yes?"

"Your wish is my command, venerable Factol Sarin-gensui," Kiyoshi replied without hesitation.

Sarin nodded before also addressing the other Chosen. "Then good luck with your mission."

"Thank you, sir," Morânia replied, bowing her head slightly. "And the Lady's Grace to you."

"May the kami always be with you," Kiyoshi added.

The factol nodded curtly, now more distant and military again, turned and walked away down the corridor. Although she held Sarin in high esteem as the paladin he was, Morânia still felt a certain relief when he turned to leave. Despite the alliance of their factions and even after the meeting at Berronar's , she still had this vague feeling in his presence that she might have done something wrong or had something to answer for. And this despite the fact that she had held the title of countess on the Prime and had headed a religious order. And yet Sarin was able to cause this feeling. It certainly spoke for his inner strength, his charisma and the natural authority that surrounded him. But of course it was also due to his faction and the power it held in Sigil. A power that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands - as had been painfully demonstrated almost ten years ago. It was fortunate that this power was now back in the hands of someone she trusted to act in an honorable and sincere way - and she had no doubt about Sarin in this regard. She sent a short prayer to Lathander that it would stay that way for a long time to come.

"Well then," Naghûl said. "Let's meet Jana and then off we go to Elysium."

The others nodded and so they made their way towards the exit. Naghûl and Lereia led the way, having a casual conversation about a new exhibition at the Festhall that the Sensate wanted to introduce to the young woman - there it happened. Naghûl and Lereia were walking beneath one of the stone arches that supported the long corridors of the Barracks at regular intervals - and suddenly they disappeared in a swirl of fulvid light.

"Damn it!" Morânia exclaimed, alarmed.

A portal. One of them must have unexpectedly and unintentionally opened a portal right there. Whether it had been an object they happened to be carrying, a word spoken at that very moment or even a feeling or thought - it didn't matter. The key had opened the portal and Naghûl and Lereia had walked through it.

Sgillin stopped, horrified. "What the ... Lereia!"

Morânia did not hesitate for a second. If there was nothing dangerous behind the portal, all the better. But if there was, she couldn't leave her husband and the young Lereia there alone.

"After them!" she shouted and rushed through.

She felt the familiar tugging, a certain warmth that flowed through her for only a few seconds and the brief darkness, as always when a portal was passed. Then she saw Lereia and Naghûl in front of her - and heard Sgillin and Kiyoshi behind her, who had obviously not hesitated either. They were standing in a gloomy, apparently not too large room, in which she could only dimly make out the others due to the lack of lighting.

"What happened?" That was Lereia's voice, with a clear hint of nervousness.

No wonder, Morânia thought to herself. Stumbling unexpectedly through a portal without knowing the destination - that was a nightmare even for experienced planewalkers.

Sgillin immediately felt his way past Morânia to Lereia. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly.

"I think so," the young woman replied, albeit with a somewhat shaky voice. She seemed to be holding on to Sgillin's arm. "We ... opened a portal, didn't we?"

"Yes ..." Morânia replied, not without adding a quiet curse.

Meanwhile, Naghûl had taken some phosphorescent moss from his belt pouch and cast a light spell on his staff. Immediately, the room, about five by five paces in size, was bathed in a warm light similar in brightness to a torch. They looked around and realized that it was not a very inviting place. There were simple beds on either side of the room, but the sheets on them were rough and didn't look all too clean. Further back, they could see a table with several chairs, crudely and not very artistically made from dark wood. A thick red candle in a holder and a dented tin bowl were placed on the tabletop. The walls were painted black and red, creating a gloomy and aggressive atmosphere.

Kiyoshi sternly looked around. "Where are we?"

"It doesn't look very friendly ..." Lereia muttered quietly.

While Naghûl was still inspecting the room with a murmur, Morânia could feel something stirring inside her, unpleasantly and unmistakably. A feeling as bothersome as the scratching of fingernails across a slate, just on a spiritual level, mental, emotional or even deeper, if that was possible. She grimaced. "I can feel evil and depravity oozing from every corner here ... I'm sure it's one of the hells." She cursed in Abyssal again, heartily and from the depths of her soul, something she only did when she was really, really irritated or frustrated.

Naghûl laid a hand on her arm placatingly. "Love, please ..."

"Don’t!" Morânia replied fiercely. "Bloody mane shit! Rat piss!"

But then she restrained herself, took several deep breaths to calm down again. She knew that such outbursts were not helpful, especially when there were such inexperienced primes with them. If only there hadn't been this terrible feeling that irritated her like dozens of mosquitoes craving her blood ... She looked over at Lereia, who seemed frightened and took a step back - from whom was not entirely clear. It seemed more like she was trying to back away from the plane itself.

"I would prefer to take on my animal form," she explained in a low voice. "Maybe that's inconspicuous and no one here will care."

"You're too pretty an animal for that," Naghûl replied regretfully, and Morânia had to agree with him.

"Yes, not that they want your fur ..."

"It would be more believable if we passed you off as a slave," Naghûl said and then added with an apologetic clearing of the throat: "I'm sorry."

"Oh ..." Lereia swallowed a little, but then nodded bravely. "All right, but don't sell me."

"Certainly not," Sgillin promised and squeezed her hand.

"No one can pay that much," Morânia assured her and briefly put her arms around the young woman's shoulders to reassure her.

She was still shaken by the more than uncertain situation, but tried not to let Lereia notice and to give her a little confidence. The young woman smiled weakly, but gratefully.

Kiyoshi, who had been quite pale around the nose and even more silent than usual on arrival, seemed to have regained his composure - or at least feigned it somewhat convincingly. He looked at Naghûl. "What roles do you have in mind for the rest of us, honorable Naghûl-san?"

Morânia looked at her husband, who now lifted his shoulders with a sigh. "I don't have anything planned," he replied. "I don't even know exactly where we are."

At that moment, the bal'aasi felt something, but this time it wasn't the poisonous sting of a hellish plane, but something much purer, warmer ... She still winced a little. "I guess she senses this environment ..." she remarked quietly. "It seems to ... wake her."
She felt light and warmth flowing through her, a sweet, pleasant feeling of comfort and boundless freedom at the same time. Just like recently in the House of Visions ... She saw Sgillin turning towards her and also heard his question: "Morânia? Are you alright?" But she no longer had any control over herself. The celestial, who shared her soul with her, now had it. Morânia saw everything, heard everything, but she was just an observer who perceived the other people present as if through a sheet of glass. "I am the Envoy," she heard herself say, and once again her voice echoed like a bronze bell. "Ask and you will be answered."

Lereia gave the others a panicked look. "We have nothing prepared ..." But as none of the men were able to react in surprise, the young woman turned to Morânia again. "Have we already met any other Chosen apart from the six of us?"

"Yes," the Envoy replied through the bal'aasi's body.

Lereia seemed to be pondering the next appropriate question, but now Naghûl intervened.

"Are we on Baator?" he asked quickly.

"No," the Envoy answered without hesitation. It was a strange feeling to be just a spectator in her own body, no longer able to exert any influence - and yet, strangely enough, it was not frightening. It was more like sailing across calm waters in a boat, steered by someone she trusted blindly.

Now Sgillin came back into her field of vision. "Is one of the Chosen on this plane?" he wanted to know.

"No," came the prompt reply.

Morânia could see Naghûl give the half-elf a sharp look at this question, and Sgillin seemed to understand: Questions about their current situation might take priority at the moment.

"Is there a portal to Sigil nearby?" Sgillin quickly followed up.

But in an instant, it was over again. Morânia felt the light and warmth withdraw from her and she regained control of her body. However, she felt a slight dizziness and sat down on the nearby bed as a precaution.

"Ah." Kiyoshi nodded gravely. "Three questions at a time."

"Damn it ..." Morânia muttered quietly. If only she could have held the Envoy for longer, if only she had answered more questions.

Lereia took a seat next to her on the bed. "Not damn it," she said softly. "You helped us."

" She helped us," the bal'aasi replied with a smile. "But thank you."

"Guys, I have a request," Naghûl interrupted their conversation. "If we happen to get stuck in a hell again at some point, could we agree to ask questions that will help us get out, yes?"

"I didn't ask a single question," Kiyoshi remarked matter-of-factly.

Sgillin raised his hands apologetically. "I tried, I was just too late."

"You're right, Naghûl," Lereia explained calmly, but Morânia could sense a certain annoyance. "But then please speak up next time. My experience with the planes is limited and I thought it might be most important to ask something about the prophecy."

Morânia nodded understandingly and briefly squeezed her hand. She gave her husband a brief placating look to leave it at that. Everyone was stressed and nervous. Mistakes happened, but there was no point in arguing about it here and now.

Naghûl immediately relented and then fell silent for a moment to think. "So, we're not on Baator," he mused. "Which means that people might be more likely to buy some wild story here. If we were in the Gray Waste, for example ..."

"Then most people wouldn't care about us ..." Morânia replied with a touch of gallows humor. "That would be something, too."

"True," Naghûl agreed. "Except maybe the odd arcanaloth, who wants to make soup out of us."

Morânia nodded and had to smile. In situations like these, Naghûl often knew how to ease the situation at least a little with a light-hearted remark and his special sense of humor. One of the many reasons why she loved him. But then he became more serious again.

"Let's assume the Abyss," he said. "Just expect the worst case scenario. Does anyone other than Morânia and I speak Abyssal?"

The other three answered in the negative and Lereia sighed softly. "I assume, as a slave I’m not supposed to speak anyway ..." she muttered discouraged and Morânia squeezed her hand comfortingly once more.

"All right," Naghûl continued matter-of-factly and as calmly as possible. "I will analyze the portal here. Then we can decide what to do next. Yes?"

Kiyoshi, Sgillin and Lereia signaled their agreement and Morânia nodded as well.

"And I'll obscure my aura to be on the safe side." She put her face in her palms, much like a child who doesn't want to be seen, and concentrated on building a mental shield around herself, a barrier that would at least hide her true alignment from more casual glances or lesser fiends. When she felt that the protective prayer had successfully covered her like a warm, golden veil, she looked up again and watched her husband's actions.

He had taken a small mirror and a magnifying glass out of his belt pouch and was speaking a few words in Orcish: "Bunaho taogoh Moan mon kt raoh, uokphan Ozr rah. Toh har koghorrn kt gohthorn, gu moako rah Hoago kt Rok." He looked intently through the magnifying glass into the mirror, then resorted to swearing, this time in Abyssal: "Tsangoopga Pootaboomba! Mdlaoop Mbaenoosan Oomgnamb!"

"Please, love ..." This time it was Morânia who tried to appease her husband.

"Wouldn’t you know it!" Naghûl growled irritably and stuffed the magnifying glass and mirror back into his pouch.

"I suspect the worst ..." Sgillin muttered.

Naghûl continued to curse, albeit now in Common. "There's nothing here! Bloody rat piss! A rotten one-way portal! Or maybe it was a temporary portal ... doesn't make it any better. Or a wandering one, then it could reappear. At some point . Oh, frigging carrion crawler muck!"

Lereia, who had stood up again, shifted nervously from one leg to the other and Sgillin raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Now, now," he said, clearly just as disturbed by Naghûl's outburst as the others. "I really don’t know such verbal derailments from the two of you. Or are you just practicing for down here?"

"We're in the Abyss ..." Morânia replied with a sigh. "That's why."

Lereia's eyes flickered fearfully. "How do you know that, Morânia? That it really is the Abyss?"

The bal'aasi twisted her mouth. "All that is disgusting and foul here repels me as a paladin and sickens the celestial in me. But it tickles my succubus heritage ... I can feel the urge ... to become intemperate."

Lereia took a deep breath. "All right, let's summarize ..." She was obviously trying very hard to keep her composure and appear calm. "We can't go back to Sigil at the moment and we don't know when we'll be able to. That means we have to come up with a story, leave this room and find another portal."

"I could go into the shadows and have a look around outside," Sgillin suggested.

"I think that's too dangerous," his companion immediately objected. "If anyone discovers you, you'll immediately make yourself a suspect."

Morânia could tell by the look on Naghûl's face that he had come up with a story by now, and indeed, he nodded resolutely. "All right ... I am a merchant with some addle-coved business ideas. Lereia is my slave and carries my grimoire." He took a thick book from his backpack and thrust it into the young woman's hand. "The rest of you are mercenaries I've hired. Sgillin plays mysterious and Kiyoshi is the silent slasher. Fine, and I'll just call you Slasher and Lurker. And Morânia is a fierce fighter called ... hm, what do I call you? Bloody Barbara?"

Sgillin had to laugh despite their precarious situation and although Morânia only wanted to smack her husband because of the name, something completely different came over her lips: "I'll give you a bloody nose, you buffoon." Yes, this plane was a bad influence ...

But Naghûl laughed it away and grinned. "Yes, good name."

At that moment, Kiyoshi took out the amulet that Factol Sarin had given him with almost prophetic foresight. He held it out to Morânia. "Here, honorable Morânia-sama," he said. "Perhaps you need this more than I do."

"Thank you, Kiyoshi," the bal'aasi replied warmly. "But I have obscured my aura and am therefore at least somewhat protected. The question is whether those of you with a good or a lawful alignment are even more in danger. They hate one as much as the other here." She glanced at Lereia, fearing that both might apply to her.

The young woman sighed promptly. "Oh my. On the other hand, as a slave, I can be lawful good, can't I?"

She was right about that, and so the choice seemed to fall on either Kiyoshi or Naghûl. "Which do you think is more dangerous?" Morânia asked her husband. "Good or lawful? Playing with fire, I know ..."

Naghûl shook his head slowly. "Hm, I fear we might be mistaken for baatezu spies. If Lereia is a slave, it's maybe best to give the amulet to Kiyoshi."

Morânia nodded in agreement and so Kiyoshi put the amulet around his neck and hid it under his clothes.

Naghûl, on the other hand, looked at the others. "Everyone ready?"

"As ready as you can be here ..." Lereia replied tensely.

Naghûl nodded with a sigh. "Good, let's go. This is going to be an exciting experience ..."

Morânia refrained from commenting on her husband's faction philosophy. Even after an extended meditation and a visit to the sauna in the Great Gymnasium, she would have found it questionable to call this an interesting experience. In the current situation, she abstained from making any comments about it as a precaution. So they carefully opened the door and stepped into a long corridor. To their relief, there was no one there, so they were able to look around a little and familiarize themselves with the surroundings. The walls were made of dark metal, perhaps iron, and there were several doors on each side of the corridor that looked exactly like the one they had just stepped out of: made of rusty metal and each marked with an Abyssal digit. They were probably lodgings, perhaps for tanar'ri Blood War troops or mercenaries in the service of the demons. Further ahead, they could make out a staircase leading down and they heard several voices.

"There doesn't seem to be much going on up here," Morânia said quietly. "But judging by the noises, there's a large crowd down there, drinking and bawling. That's a lot of people who might be able to see through my disguise. I'm especially worried about the soul of the Envoy ..." Naghûl gave her a questioning look, immediately guessing what she was getting at. She sighed. "I think I'll stay up here for now while you look around downstairs."

Her husband nodded gravely. "Yes, that might be safer."

So he beckoned Sgillin, Kiyoshi and Lereia to follow him, while Morânia fell back a little. While the others went down the stairs, she hid in a corner and pulled her hood into her face as she cautiously peered at the lower floor. It was obviously some kind of bar or guest room, with a counter decorated with demonic grimaces and several tables and chairs made of black metal. Deep red flames in iron fire baskets lit up the room and bathed it in a hellish light. Fiends and other dark figures gathered there. They drank and bawled, some of them bullied a few manes for fun. Morânia was relieved to see that no one seemed to be paying attention to the lost travelers at the moment. Naghûl went ahead, Lereia with the book right at his side, while Sgillin and Kiyoshi kept a little further back. The dry heat that met her from below made the bal'aasi guess that it was very hot in the hellish tavern, 110 degrees for sure. From her position she could spot a table of Blood War mercenaries: several tieflings, two humans and a half-orc were sitting there. A little way off was a pool of blood, and further back the bar, behind which a dretch was making some noise. Naghûl sat down at a free table in Morânia's field of vision, and at a hint from him, Sgillin and Kiyoshi also took a seat. Lereia remained standing at the side of Naghûl's chair until he reached for her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. Morânia nodded gently. He quickly settled into his role, one he had played on many of their journeys together. Whenever they had ended up in dark, even hellish environments, Naghûl had always played the role of an opportunistic, money-mad merchant and her sister Raralia had been either his slave or his lover, depending on the situation. Not infrequently both. She herself and the other traveling companions at the time - the dwarf Tagnar, the githzerai Zerf and her half-celestial mentor Astaldur - had usually posed as mercenaries. Morânia had also mastered the role of slave or seductress thanks to her succubus heritage, but had preferred to leave it to her older sister whenever possible. After the group had found a place downstairs and were certainly exploring the surroundings now, Morânia retreated a little further into the dim corridor so as not to be seen from below. A quick, watchful glance told her that she was still alone up here. Nothing could be heard behind the other doors either. Where could they be? She spotted a single window at the end of the corridor and stepped closer to take a look outside. Just like in the bar below, everything there was bathed in a reddish light, but it didn't come from fire bowls, but from the lakes that apparently surrounded the place and were bordered by jagged, black mountains much further back. On closer inspection, Morânia realized that the lakes were probably not lava - the liquid moved differently, shimmered a little ... Could it be the Molten Iron Lakes? This series of steaming crucibles provided the iron that made up most of the weapons and almost all the fortresses of Pazunia, the first layer of the Abyss. This made the area one of the most fiercely contested regions of the plane. Morânia let her gaze wander inquiringly. The nearest lakes were glowing red, others further away were glistening white. They radiated waves of heat that relentlessly and intermittently broke through the window only grilled with iron bars. She knew that anyone within a hundred paces of the lakes could suffer burns if touching the ground unprotected or being exposed to a sudden gust of wind. Therefore, she hoped that they would not have to leave the fortress in a hurry because it would take Naghûl a while to magically protect them all against the fire out there. But which fortress was it? Morânia let her eyes wander over the banks of the lakes again and recognized the outline of a bastion on the opposite shore of the largest one. No, too big for a bastion, more like a town. In the dark buildings, countless red- and orange-lit windows glowed like mischievous eyes watching over the precious lakes. But some of the towers looked dilapidated ... This might be the abandoned town of Raazorforge . It was home to a large number of magma mephits, who had once been forced to run a huge forge here as slaves, but had managed to escape when an entropic chaos ship had destroyed most of the town. Demons avoided this site, which made it one of the safest places on Pazunia. But they obviously hadn't ended up there ... More likely they were in the iron fortress of Ferrug, which sat directly opposite Raazorforge on the shore of the largest molten lake. It was teeming with herds of armanites, murdering vrocks and countless Blood War mercenaries, led by a headstrong marilith named Galizsheth. Morânia sighed softly. Of course they had ended up here instead of the other side of the lake, with the strenuous, but in comparison much more harmless mephits.

"Hey, Lurker," she now heard Naghûl a little louder from below. "Why don't you get something to toss down?"

She cautiously approached the staircase again and peered down at her friends from the shelter of the protruding corner.

Sgillin had stood up. "Yes, master," he replied in a slightly lower voice than usual. "What do you want?"

"Animal blood would be fine," Naghûl replied. "From a carnivore, if possible."

Sgillin nodded and walked over to the bar, unobtrusively scanning the surroundings. In one corner, a couple of Blood War mercenaries were boasting about their exploits in their last battle. At another table, an alu fiend sat on the lap of an incubus, flirting with him fiercely to the point of lewdness. In yet another corner, a vrock was kicking a mane to a bloody pulp. A second vrock seemed to take less pleasure in the spectacle and also turned towards the bar. Sgillin kept a careful but not too conspicuous distance from the demon as he leaned on the counter.

"Hey!" he called over to the dretch barman.

The flabby fiend barely turned to face him, only giving him a quick glance from its protruding beady eyes as it put away some bottles. "Huh?"

"What kind of blood you've got there?" the half-elf wanted to know.

The dretch showed Sgillin a few bottles and mumbled something in Abyssal. The archer hid the fact that he couldn't understand the language quite well and simply pointed at two bottles of wine and one with blood. Then he returned to the table while a ridiculously disguised mane hobbled past him. Kiyoshi took one of the bottles of wine and poured himself a mug, but drank nothing, as Morânia noticed. Naghûl had Lereia pour him some of the blood, while Sgillin reached for the second bottle of wine. The vrock loitering further back in the room had now let go of the mane, of whom only a bloody heap remained, and went to one of the tables, where he started a conversation with a half-orcish Blood War mercenary. All in all, nothing about the current situation seemed particularly conspicuous or worrying - at least by Abyssal standards. Morânia was just considering whether she should venture downstairs after all, but just at that moment a turmoil started downstairs: the door to the barroom was wrenched open and an apparently injured human man stumbled in. He was covered in blood and panicked, throwing the door shut behind him ... but before anyone in the room could really react, the door was blown off its hinges. And a true nightmare entered ... The creature looked like a huge, misshapen spider with a body the size of a field ox and legs about four paces long. The chitinous exoskeleton was black and purple in color, the two front legs ended in razor-sharp barbs and a stinking liquid dripped from the fangs. Morânia's heartbeat quickened and her hand moved almost unconsciously to the hilt of her sword. A bebilith! Dangerous, spider-like demons that preyed on other fiends. Or even ordinary mortals if they were hungry and couldn't find any other prey. The injured man who had just stumbled in seemed to fall into this category. Morânia saw her friends immediately jump out of their chairs, as did many of the other guests. Sgillin grabbed Lereia by the arm and pulled her with him towards the counter and Kiyoshi grabbed his yari while Naghûl cast a protection spell. The injured man ran across the room in panic, but the bebilith was already upon him. He impaled him with a razor-sharp claw and slammed his jaws into him. It all happened in the blink of an eye and Morânia had only just run halfway down the stairs. The man in the bebilith's clutches went limp almost immediately. But suddenly, seemingly at the moment of his death, there was an explosion of dazzling light. All the tanar'ri spun around, blinded, most of them fled in panic ... some just stared ... Morânia, too, stopped in the middle of the stairs, stunned. But the vrock at the bar leapt forward ... Meanwhile, the glistening light seemed to shoot out of the dying man's body - and into the bebilith. The monster shuddered and trembled as the light entered its body.

"No!" the vrock shrieked. "It's mine!"

Morânia tried to comprehend what was going on in the few seconds it took for all of this to happen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Naghûl was also watching the spectacle in shock and confusion. Kiyoshi, Sgillin and Lereia also stood there frozen. Then, suddenly, the vrock seemed to split and a man with alabaster skin and white wings burst out of its shell.

"No!" he shouted desperately. "It's mine! It's mine!"

The man rushed towards the bebilith and Morânia could not believe her eyes. Was that ...?

"A deva!" hissed a quasit fluttering near the second vrock. "A deva in the Abyss!"

And he was right. Morânia felt with every fiber of her being that this was no illusion and no dream. There really was an angel standing before them - in the middle of Ferrug. Without a second thought, she drew her sword and hurried down the stairs, while the bebilith now lunged at the deva. Lereia, too, apparently felt an overwhelming urge to rush to the aid of the celestial being because of her good heart. She obviously wanted to tear herself away from Sgillin and run to the angel's side. But the half-elf gripped her tighter instead, doing his best to keep his companion away from the fight between deva and fiend. And this battle was now in full swing: The angel had drawn a gleaming silver sword and was thrusting at the bebilith, while the carapaced monster struck with razor-sharp claws. Morânia had now reached the foot of the stairs and covered the last few steps to the center of the room as quickly as she could to support the angel. Unimportant now was the recently carefully obscured aura, forgotten was the soul of the celestial within her, meaningless any risk it meant to draw a blessed weapon like her sword Heaven's Fire here in the Abyss. Only the angel mattered, only helping him was important. And Lereia obviously felt the same overwhelming urge. As if in a frenzy, she tore herself away from Sgillin, beginning to warp her body and take on her tiger form ... Naghûl acted no differently, for without hesitation he uttered an incantation and sent a hail of magical projectiles over to the bebilith. The moment Morânia reached the beast and stabbed it with her sword, Sgillin could no longer hold Lereia. Her clothes lay in tatters on the ground and instead of the petite woman, a strong, white tigress leapt towards the bebilith. It was the first time Morânia had seen Lereia transformed and she wished she could have witnessed the impressive sight in a less dramatic moment. So all she could do was nod briefly at her new friend while she tried to keep the bebilith away from the angel. Kiyoshi was now at her side to support her and Sgillin had put an arrow on the string of his bow. But the monster was strong and unusually aggressive, not letting blades, arrows, claws or magical projectiles dissuade it from its prey, the deva. It finally got hold of the angel and smashed its jaws into him. He cried out in pain and collapsed. Lereia roared in rage and managed to jump onto the bebilith's back with a powerful leap. She tried to penetrate the chitinous carapace with her claws and teeth, but to no avail. Kiyoshi's yari didn't do much either, but Naghûl's magic missiles had obviously weakened the beast and a hit from Morânia's blessed weapon, which pierced one of its leg joints, caused the monster to hiss angrily. Without hesitation and without flinching, Morânia continued to attack the fiend, obsessed by the one burning thought of helping the angel. Another hail of missiles hissed through the air from Naghûl's direction, and the glowing orbs rained down on the bebilith's back. Then Lereia's teeth apparently found a target, for there was a crack where she had bitten into the monster's neck. It reared up and, with a powerful shake, threw the tigress off. But Morânia, Kiyoshi and Sgillin took advantage of this moment. While the young soldier drove the tip of his yari between the carapace plates on the head and torso, one of Sgillin's arrows found its way into one of the front leg joints. Morânia finally found a gap to deliver a sword thrust against the softer, less protected abdomen of the monster. In the face of these attacks, the bebilith actually let the deva slip from its clutches. Heavily battered, it retreated towards the door, climbed through the destroyed wall and disappeared. Nobody made any effort to stop it or even follow it, everyone present was too relieved that the horrible monster retreated.

The angel lay on the ground where the bebilith had dropped him. "It ... belongs ... to me," he whispered weakly.

Morânia hurried to his side, looking around vigilantly. All the demons and mercenaries were staring at her and her companions ... many fearful, but some hostile and eager to attack. It wouldn't be long before they broke out of their stupor ... The bal'aasi quickly sheathed her sword and bent down to the deva.

He looked at her with sapphire-blue eyes. "Help me ..." His voice broke.

Obviously Sgillin also thought that the situation was getting too hot to handle. "Let's get out of here, and quickly," he whispered.

Morânia grabbed the angel under one arm to pull him up and carry him. "How?" she asked him urgently, desperately hoping that he had at least worked out an escape plan before his suicidal performance in the middle of hell.

"The kitchen ..." he replied, barely audible. "Portal ..."

Naghûl immediately turned to the nearby half-orc of the Blood War mercenary troop. "You! Tell me where the kitchen is! Now!"

His authoritative, aggressive tone of voice apparently caught the fellow off guard enough in addition to the already bizarre situation so that he immediately stuttered his reply. "Uh ... um ... back there." He pointed to a door behind the bar.

"If that's not true, I'll nail you to the wall with a hundred flame arrows!" Naghûl hissed at him before he hurriedly made his way to the door and kicked two brainless manes out of the way who were staggering around there.

Lereia followed him with a low growl, while Kiyoshi took the deva's other arm and dragged him towards the kitchen together with Morânia. Sgillin covered the retreat with an arrow on the string. Naghûl reached for the handle, opened the door and walked through, Lereia close behind him. But as Morânia and Kiyoshi followed with the angel, a golden light suddenly filled the doorway. Something the deva was carrying must have been a key. Before the bal'aasi knew it, they were already through ... Morânia and Kiyoshi with the deva and Sgillin walking close behind them. Naghûl and Lereia, who had noticed what was going on, had rushed through the portal from the other side.

 

the deva

Wherever they might have landed, it was wet. Morânia sensed this even before she could see anything and get her bearings in the new surroundings. Instinctively, she pulled up the angel, whose arm she was still holding tightly, but quickly felt that she could easily find ground under her feet. She was able to stand and the water only came up to her chest. The other exit of the portal was obviously a larger pool of water, in which she now found herself together with her friends and the senseless angel. The deva had finally lost consciousness due to the bebilith's poison and hung limply between her and Kiyoshi. Morânia quickly let her gaze wander around the room ... white marble walls, slender columns framing the pool, a red upholstered couch between two honey palms ... of course, and a decorative frieze of crescent moons and suns running along the ceiling.

"We are in the Great Gymnasium," Morânia stated. "In the most luxurious bathing room..."

This reassured her companions considerably, and she finally allowed herself to take a deep breath. The fact that they had not only found a portal out of the Abyss in Ferrug, but that it had also led them directly to her own faction headquarters, was more than unlikely and therefore an even more welcome relief. It had to be a one-way portal from the hell's side, because certainly the Ciphers would not have built one of their private bathing rooms where a gateway into the Abyss was known to be. But the fact that there was a portal here from Ferrug was still unsettling. Morânia sincerely hoped that the key was rare and almost impossible to get hold of in the Abyss. Nevertheless, this bathing room might have to be relocated ... One by one, they climbed out of the water basin, dripping wet, and carefully placed the angel on the cushioned divan. Although the deva was still alive, he was deeply unconscious.

Concerned, Morânia bent down to him. "Strange ..." she murmured. "A deva ... The poison shouldn't affect him like that."

"Well ..." Sgillin objected. "You've seen this creature."

Morânia nodded. "Yes, I know. Still, a deva has very strong resistances, especially against these kinds of poisons. I don't know ..."

Lereia, still in tiger form, approached the divan with dripping fur and scrutinized the angel with her turquoise eyes. "What was he doing there in the Abyss?" she wondered.

"A very good question," a warm, velvety voice sounded from the entrance to the bathing room.

They looked up - the others a little more startled and surprised than Morânia, who had recognized the voice immediately.

"Factol Rhys." Naghûl bowed. "How did you know ... no, I'd better not even ask."

Rhys smiled briefly, but then became more serious again and stepped closer to the deva, her hooves clattering softly on the marble floor. "Hm ..." She sat down on the edge of the divan, examined the angel closely and then gently placed her hand on his. "He's with us, but who knows for how much longer?"

Morânia felt her heart sink. Her factol never said such things without good reason, she knew that. "What should we do?" she asked anxiously.

Rhys lifted one hand, and with the other she stroked the deva very gently from his forehead to his chin. His eyelids fluttered, then his eyes opened. The factol withdrew her hand. "You are safe," she said reassuringly.

The angel looked wanly at the tiefling woman, then his eyes wandered around and caught sight of the Chosen. "Thank you ..." he whispered. "You have helped me a lot. But I'm afraid I'll have to ask for your help again."

"Speak," Rhys urged him gently.

He tried to raise himself up on his elbows, but it was visibly difficult. "My name is Ybdiel," he explained in a rough voice. "My goddess sent me on a mission. I was to uncover the plans of a powerful demon prince ... Graz'zt ... Unfortunately, the only trail I found led to the Abyss. I didn't want to endanger anyone else, so I decided to go myself. Of course, I had to hide, disguise myself ... But even the best illusion and a carefully obscured aura can be discovered and seen through if someone else is more powerful. My only choice was to give up what I had been given. So I gave up my spark willingly."

Startled, Morânia looked at the deva at these outrageous words. Gave it up? He had given away what made him an angel?

"The divine spark?" Lereia asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Yes ..." Ybdiel sighed deeply. "I gave it to a good person. He was to keep it until I had completed my mission. I found out what I was looking for. Everything, I was successful ... But then the bebilith came. The man it killed ... he had my spark. I don't know how he got into the Abyss." The angel's voice weakened. "Terrible things must have happened to him. When he died ... the monster absorbed my spark. It couldn't return to me. Without the spark, my powers will fade ... I will cease to be an angel."

Sgillin raised his brows meaningfully. "I guess we're supposed to get back your spark, right?"

Ybdiel shook his head wearily. "More important is, what I have learned in the Abyss. Please take me to Elysium. I must report to my goddess ..."

"They will take you there," Rhys assured him with her usual calmness. "Do not worry."

The deva wanted to say something else, but before he could reply, he fell unconscious again.

Sgillin sighed. "We'd better hurry before he kicks the bucket."

With a reproving shake of her head, Rhys put her finger to her lips. "Shh." When the half-elf gave her a questioning look, she ran her index finger gently across his forehead. "If acting and thinking are in accordance, that's one thing. But speaking without thinking is of no use to anyone." She pointed at Ybdiel. "He hears you despite everything. Choose your words carefully, as well as your every action."

Morânia had to smile. She knew the special ways of her often inscrutable factol. But even Naghûl was still confused by her sometimes, and the other Chosen might not fare any better. Since Kiyoshi had put on his usual expressionless face and Lereia was in tiger form, Sgillin's astonishment was most obvious. He cleared his throat.

"You may forgive my language," he said. "But have I not gotten to the heart of the matter, dear factol?"

"It's not just about the doing, it's also about the how," Rhys replied adamantly. "And about moderation."

Sgillin looked at her a little confused and shook his head slightly, but said nothing more.

Naghûl, on the other hand, scrutinized at the deva thoughtfully. "But which goddess does he serve?"

Rhys looked at Ybdiel again, bent down a little and seemed to be searching for something without touching the angel - then, without hesitation, she pushed back his left sleeve. On the pale skin, like a tattoo, was a light blue symbol: a horizontal infinity loop in a circle.

"Mishakal," Morânia stated.

Rhys nodded gently as she pushed the sleeve back again.

"Is there a way into her realm?" Lereia asked, almost shyly.

"Certainly," the tiefling woman replied calmly.

"If anyone knows it, it's factol Terrance," Naghûl said with a grin.

Morânia had to laugh a little despite the seriousness of the situation. The opportunity had been too good for her husband to let it pass.

Rhys grinned as well. "Naghûl, Naghûl ..."

He raised his shoulders innocently as Sgillin sat down on the edge of the pool and took out his pipe. When he had tamped and lit it, Rhys stepped beside him, took the pipe from his hand in one fluid movement, squeezed it out with one finger without batting an eyelid and put it back into his belt pouch. Then she turned back to the deva, all as if it had been a single action.

"Take him to the realm of his goddess," she instructed the Chosen, as if the incident with the pipe hadn't even happened. "We have a portal here in the Gymnasium that you can use."

Sgillin looked at Rhys with a meaningful look, but bit his lips and said nothing.

Morânia had been watching with a smile and now bowed her head at Rhys' words. "Certainly, factol. We will."

 

________________________

played on June 15, 2012

Jana's player was not there that evening, so the sorceress did not accidentally stumble through the wrong portal with the others.