37: Capture

[Start from the beginning]

"Let's…" said Tarissa, just as the corridor plunged into blackness, "…go!"

Her words vanished into the void as she felt herself being spun around, losing all sense of direction. The whirling stopped, but the light did not return. She steadied her breath, sword still held out in front of her, although how she would use it if she could not see anything she did not know.

"Is everyone here? Light!" she called out.

There was no response, and the way her voice echoed off the walls told her that the corridor was now empty. If it was even the same corridor, which she doubted. Whatever magic had extinguished the lights had also whisked them away to different parts of the complex, separating them, and making it difficult to find their way back together again – at least without giving away their location to their enemies.

The demon itself, she felt sure, would not be inconvenienced by anything as minor as the absence of light. The members of the harem should be as blind as she, though… assuming, of course, that Sashjant had not thought to equip them with some sort of magical item. The adventurers were at very much of a disadvantage, caught in a maze of corridors they did not know and could not even see. But how big could that maze be? There was no obvious limit, but surely magic could hide only so much?

36: Geska

[Start from the beginning]
Dolrim’s axe was already in his hand, and he stepped forward, shifting into a battle stance as the red-haired woman shouted out in alarm… and then, a moment later, slumped to the floor as Almandar’s spell hit her. Anyone else could be around the corner, perhaps the demon himself, or at least the more competent of his remaining slaves.

“Let’s…” began Tarissa, and then her voice cut off as everything went black and the world seemed to spin around them.

“One of you cast a light spell!” grunted the dwarf when, after a few seconds, neither of the magicians had done the obvious.

There was no reply. The spinning had not disoriented him, and he had thought at first that the physically weaker magicians had been affected differently. But no, they were not here, and Dolrim was on his own. He wasn’t even sure he was in the same part of the complex. For all that his eyes could adjust easily to the dim light of a dwarven cave system, nobody could see in the complete absence of light.

Unless, perhaps, they were a demon. He froze, straining his ears to catch any hint of what was around him – although he was blind, Sashjant might not be. He could hear, somewhere in the distance, Tarissa’s voice, muffled by walls of the fake stone, its texture just a little too regular to be the real substance, but otherwise similar in its properties. He took a step in the direction of the paladin’s voice, but then stopped again as he heard a quiet footfall.

35: Gut'rul

[Start from the beginning]

The place was evidently extra-dimensional in some way, a pocket of reality that did not fit within the regular dimensions of the physical world. Almandar had heard of such things before, had even seen them on a smaller scale, but he had never experienced one large enough to actually walk into. Judging from the doors that led off from the stone flagged corridor, it was even larger than they could see from here, an entire home hidden by what was presumably an easily portable door.

They stepped carefully and quietly down the corridor, not wanting to alert anyone inside. Luck, however, was not with them. Before they had moved even half way along, one of the occupants turned the corner at the far end and saw them, and let out a sudden yell. He recognised the red-headed slave he had met at the market – he seemed to recall her name was Kara – and immediately cast a sleep spell in her direction.

The woman collapsed, her legs falling from under her, and hit the floor heavily. Almandar darted forward, for a moment moving away from the others as the woman’s shout continued to echo through the magical space, evidently enhanced somehow. He did not want to hurt her, for she was an innocent victim, just as Mei-Xing was, just as all the harem were, but it was imperative that Sashjant and his slaves not have the chance to arm themselves.

“Let’s…” said Tarissa, but at that moment everything went dark.

34: Celestial

[Start from the beginning]

Nyvara looked at the water ahead of them, filling the tunnel as it sloped down into the depths. That Zarenis wanted her to swim though it was just ridiculous. She already regretted having agreed to help the tiefling out, but the problem was that she was too far into it to back out. The only escape route from this passage that she knew of was through a hideous barrier of flesh-eating vegetation that she had absolutely no idea how to neutralise. If she tried to leave, she would probably die in the attempt.

But going ahead looked no safer. She had to try to appeal to whatever sense of preservation Zarenis still had.

“We don’t know how far the water goes,” she pointed out, “we could drown.”

“It’s not that far. We’re physically fit; we can swim it.” The tiefling woman sounded quite positive. Nyvara almost asked her how she could be so certain, but bit back the question. It was the Presence, of course; that strange infernal entity that spoke to her in her head, or whatever it was it did.

“Well don’t forget, there’s a celestial waiting on the other side,” she said instead, “the creature we fought before was one thing, but how can we hope to fight a celestial? I don’t know much about them, but I do know they’re incredibly powerful. I bet even hardened adventurers would think twice about taking one on, and we’re going to allow it to jump us while we’re trying to get out of the water. It’s suicide!”

33: Rupinder

[Start from the beginning]

Calleslyn waited and watched nervously as Vardala fiddled with the lock on the door; they really didn’t want to be caught by anyone while doing this. She and Almandar were standing in the alley behind the house that Sashjant had rented in the city. There was no sign of life inside, although she knew that the demon was at home, along with, at the very least, two of his female companions, and probably all of them. Except, of course, Mei-Xing, and they did not yet know whether he had worked out what had happened to her,

Hopefully not, because that would give them the element of surprise. Sashjant was expecting Ornejirhs, and doubtless had warding spells in place to warn him of the approach of a dragon, whether in human form or not. But, with any luck, he had no idea about the adventurers, allowing them to quickly get inside and deal with him.

To her surprise, the lock on the back door to the house had not been enchanted, so it had nothing to do with the magical key they had stolen. That had to be for something, but evidently it wasn’t just for accessing the building, which used a standard Haredil lock on all of its doors. Which meant that Vardala should not be much longer.

32: Mei-Xing

[Start from the beginning]

The woman was most immediately notable for her flaming red hair; a rarity in Haredil. Her long skirts and the high collar on her dress marked her out as a native of the southern lands, far from her homeland. But that was no surprise to Almandar, for that was where Ornejirhs had followed her from.

Or, more accurately, that was where he had followed Sashjant from. As the dragon had indicated, the shape-changing demon travelled with a personal harem, and the redhead was one of that number. Almandar and the others had observed the group, confirming Ornejirhs’ story, at least as far as it could be. According to Lady Tarissa, Sashjant was an unusual type of demon called a rakshasa, and highly skilled in the ways of magic. Mind-affecting enchantments were clearly among his powers, and he had used them to gather the women, and to hold them in thrall.

It had soon become apparent that the women were the route through which they could tackle the demon. Each carried some kind of magical key that they used to enter Sashjant’s home; there was no other way in, which perhaps explained Ornejirhs’ failure to get close, especially since the demon could obviously sense his approach, and knew Imrilda’s identity.

It did not, however, know the adventurers, and that was the basis of their plan. Almandar would get one of the women on her own, allowing the others to capture her without the demon realising. Between himself, Calleslyn, and Lady Tarissa, they were confident of being able to end the enchantment, freeing the woman from her slavery. Once they had the key, they had a way to approach the demon, and deal with it permanently.

31: History

[Start from the beginning]

“I hope you know where you’re going,” said Nyvara, as the three of them trod the branching passageways beneath the city.

“I know the direction,” replied Zarenis, “I can feel it. This thing,,, the Presence, whatever you want to call it… it shows me images sometimes, but mostly I just sense the way I have to go. All I have to do is work out the details.”

“That doesn’t sound very reassuring,” complained the sorceress, “how do we know it isn’t lying to you?”

“It has no reason to. It wants to be released, and my demonic ancestry is the strongest link it has to this world.” She didn’t add that the Presence had already shown her that it had been responsible for her own birth, through a lesser demon. Since she had touched the censer, it could send her visions while she was awake, and she had experienced first hand its ability to manipulate the infernal taint in her blood, tying them together.

At least, she had now been able to gain some measure of control over the new powers in her blood. She was able to suppress all the transformations it wanted to make in her body, restoring her eyes and horns to their usual forms, and now looked as human as any tiefling should do, not like the hideous half-demon she had been at risk of becoming.

30: Ornejirhs

[Start from the beginning]

Calleslyn awoke suddenly. She felt refreshed, invigorated, as if she had just had a long nap and was ready to face the new day. And yet… she was sitting on a small, backless armchair, bound to it by her wrists, and with her ankles also tied together. There was a man sitting across from her.

“Welcome back,” said the man, “it would seem I owe you an apology.”

“You attacked me!” snapped the elf, as her memory returned.

“In fairness, you had just attacked my fighting companion. What was I supposed to infer?” His voice was calm, sounding reasonable, and almost affronted by the accusation.

“And now you’ve kidnapped me.”

“That was a necessary precaution. I did not know how you would react when you woke. I have not treated you badly.”

Glancing around to gain her bearings, Calleslyn had to admit that things could have been worse. She was not in a dungeon, or anything of that kind, although neither was she in the house where she had first encountered the pair. Instead, she was in what appeared to be a tent, a large and luxurious one of red and gold cloth, with soft cushions and mats upon the ground. The chair she was sitting in was padded, and would have been comfortable had she not been bound to it… with, she now noticed, white cords of silk that were tied firmly, but not overly tight.

29: Nariti

[Start from the beginning]

“She went to see a magician named Ornejirhs,” explained Almandar, as they stood outside the Wizards’ College, “he’s a visitor to the city, not somebody I’ve heard of before.”

“I have,” said Tarissa, unexpectedly, “he’s a demon hunter. They mentioned him at the Pardror temple. I was going to suggest we pay him a visit anyway.”

“And after seeing him, Calleslyn disappears? I’m not sure I like this, especially since we don’t know anything about him. We don’t even know where he’s from.”

“I was told that he was from the south,” replied the paladin, “although I suspect they may have got confused on that point – it’s not a name from any southern culture I’m familiar with.” Tarissa, of course, was from the southern lands, herself, as her blonde hair and blue eyes made apparent. “Although I was told that he does have a companion called Imrilda, who certainly is southern, from the description. She belongs to an order called the Shield Daughters, who have some rather strange ideas about dress, but are essentially honourable. From everything I was told, this Ornejirhs sounds a trustable person.”

“Then why hasn’t Calleslyn returned?” Almandar reminded her, “she went to see him yesterday afternoon.”

28: Leren

[Start from the beginning]

Two figures crept their way along a narrow tunnel beneath the city. The larger one held a small lantern, casting long shadows on the walls, and illuminating patches of glistening moisture where the warm air condensed against cold stone. The tunnel turned sharply downwards, uneven steps plunging into the darkness beneath. With a grunt, the larger figure extinguished the lantern.

“’Er ladyship don’t like no lights,” sad a gruff, masculine voice, “‘sept the ones already down there. So watch yer step.”

“Easy enough for her ladyship to say,” commented a woman’s voice, “drow don’t need light.”

“We do it ‘er way, and that’s that. Or you ain’t coming. I only brung yer ‘cause she asked. You ain’t one of us, I can leave yer behind and say yer’s too scared.”

“I didn’t say I needed light, did I? You’re the one going to have difficulty on those stairs, not me.”

The man grunted again, put out. “Yeah, whatever. You comin’ or what?”

27: Imrilda

[Start from the beginning]
Calleslyn crossed the lobby of the Wizards’ College, looking about for someone she knew well enough to talk to. The villa had been attacked by a demon, obviously sent to steal something, and Lady Tarissa had sent her here to find out what she could. Until now they had been reluctant to tell people what they knew of the infernal threat to the city, but having seen a demon openly, they could now ask questions without raising suspicion among the conspirators – whoever they were. Indeed, it would some strange if they did not.

The lobby, however, was relatively empty, so the elf decided to make her next port of call the library. It occupied a significant part of the building, and, while it was not a good place for socialising as such, there was always likely to be someone there. She stepped through the stone archway and looked around, the numerous stacks of books and scrolls hiding much of her view of the interior.

“Can I help you?”

She turned round to see the librarian peering up from a collection of scrolls, a slightly nervous smile on her face. Nariti knew a lot about books and scrolls, but rather less about the actual human world, which would not have made her Calleslyn’s first choice for uncovering any wizards that might be involved in the dark arts. But at least she was present.

“Yes, perhaps,” she said, coming over as the small, mousy woman reflexively smoothed her robes down. “I was wondering about the restricted section of the library.”

26: Skort

[Start from the beginning]

Vardala stepped warily into the back room of the inn, closing the door carefully behind her, as she had been instructed. The room was dark, heavy shutters closed across the only window. Outside, the sun would already be dipping towards the horizon, but the intent was not just to keep light out but to stop passers-by from looking in.

The rogue made out a shape standing next to the unlit fireplace, and could sense its eyes on her. She said nothing, waiting for the figure to make the first move. After a long silence, it did so, reaching forward across a low table to pull back a shutter from some metal object placed there.

A whitish-blue light spilled across the table, shining into her face. She had seen such things before; a metal box with a narrow shutter at one side, and a rod inside enchanted with a long-lasting light spell. It was safer than a regular lantern, and almost never needed refuelling. Because of its shape, the light poured out in only one direction, and the figure standing behind it was more in the shadow than ever, now that her eyes could not adjust to the darkness.

“The prodigal returns,” said the figure, his voice calm, with a rich timbre.

25: Rolgor

[Start from the beginning]

Yellowish eyes looked out at her from behind the little shutter in the door. “I not know you,” said a deep voice accusingly, “why you here?”

Elandra had already composed herself; she knew that the woman she had come to see had a half-orc assistant and bodyguard. She was no aristocrat, but still, half-orcs were not a race that she had had many dealings with before. This one, just from the sound of his gravely voice and crude grammar, seemed to fit the stereotype. Which made it easier to deal with him, in a way, so long as she didn’t show fear or disgust at his appearance. After all, his employer surely needed new customers every now and then.

“We are here to see Nyvara,” she said, keeping her voice steady, “we want to buy something.”

“We?” asked the half-orc, his eyes glancing about.

He could probably see far better than her in the dark of the night, but from his vantage point behind the door, her body was blocking his view of Tinberly.

“My daughter is here with me,” she said, reluctantly taking a half step to the side, so that he could see. Surely they looked harmless enough?

The half-orc grunted, “you wait here. I be back soon.”

The little shutter closed, leaving the two of them outside in the darkened alley. Elandra pulled her shawl more tightly around herself, although it was more the lateness of the hour and the unfamiliarity of the streets that was getting to her than any feeling of cold, for, if anything, it was quite a warm night.