Game: Blades of Git'riban : Primal State

Lind bows to Ar'dru. "I will provide you with a guide, one of my household. He will accompany you, and bear the proper paperwork should you be challenged by the Baatezu. Follow his lead, take flight if and when he does, slay only when he does. I will warn you, you may find each other ... disagreeable, but he will follow my orders to the letter, and so it would be wise for you to pay heed to his."

She sends one of the kobolds to fetch the guide while she chats with Ar'dru, mostly describing what he can expect on the other side of the portal. The portal, it seems, opens into a small border-burg on the edjes of Tiamat's realm populated mostly by abashai. Some serve Her Great and Terrible Majesty, while others are spies for the Lords of the Nine, so caution is advised. It is also implied, but not directly stated, that a donation to the temple is in order in exchange for their help.

After a short time (perhaps 20 more minutes), the guide arrives. He is a very stout draconic being, not quite Ar'dru's height but definitely out-weighing him. His scales are a tarnished silver, and unlike Lind sports wings. He is heavily armored in plate mail that looks to have seen action. He bears a greatsword across his back, and carries a very large heavy crossbow. His name is Bozzrundukarn (Boz for short), and his personality is ... abrasive to say the least, but just as Lind said, he follows her orders as if they came from Tiamat herself.

Yes, he would have had to remove it back in Haven Port in order for the mindlink to work.

Of course.

The actual portal is an archway back in the basement of the temple. Boz leads Ar'dru to a chapel underneath the main temple. The cobbles are bloodstained, and an altar lies before the arch, flanked by golden brazzers filled with incense. Boz, however, simply takes the dustman's corpse from the duthka'gith and dashes it uncerimoniously against the side of the archway.

The portal sputters to life, the smell of brimstone wafting through on a strong breeze.

***

The portal exits in an elaborately carved archway of black basalt. The archway stands on the top of a hill of dark stone. The landscape around is rugged, and similar hills to the one on which they stand, surround them, piling atop one another in great heaps of black stone, until they meet the great bluffs and chasms of The Mountain itself. The archway seems to be all that is left of a black tower, and similar ruins are planted like flags to decay atop most of the hills around. A few are void of all but a few wrought stones sitting atop the black rock, but a few, very few, seem to be in better repair, though no lights shine in this 'city'.

And a city it may be, for lines of smoke snake from some of the less damaged ruins, and from caves within the dark hills and gullies.

Boz crouches down as soon as they hit Avernus, and spends long moments scanning the terrain for any response to their arrival before flying quickly to another hill and laying low there for several minutes.

So it goes, they stay hidden whenever something is seen by either pair of draconic eyes, and move swiftly when the coast is clear.

It's too good to last.

You are high in the mountiains, the smaller hills dwindling behind, when you encounter the patrols. You must creep among the rocks and crags, for atop the sharp ridges stand towers and narrow fortresses shaped like sailing ships in a great black armada. Their windows smoke and winged abashai flock about the rooftops. The fortresses stand like a blockading fleet. Being stumbled upon by a partol was inevitable. The first bunch are a trio of black abashai that pop out of a cave as you are trying to circumvent yet another fortified tower.

"Look toothy, half-gith." Boz rumbles when they spot you.

They grip their spears and demand to see your travel papers.

"My 'travel pass' is right here, under my armor, lapdog of Bel." Boz growls in response.

[Evil DM - Here it is, they want your travel pass and you ain't got one. Make an intimidate check, but I will also make a super secret special modifier depending on your IC response. I will tell you your DC, though. 35.]

The baatezu hesitate for a moment. They glance back and forth at each other for a moment, then take flight. As soon as they turn to flee, Boz brings up his crossbow and shoots one. The bolt rips through its wing, causing it to fall behind the others.

"Bring them down, or we'll be hacking our way through a legion." Boz growls, and takes out his two-handed sword. Boz's blade proves to be a wavy-bladed sword of some strange black alloy.

Boz proves to be an extremely stong flier. Fast, and with his bulk, a battering ram on the wing. He quickly catches up to the trailing abashai and tackles it in mid-air. The devil drops it's spear and claws at him, but Boz crashes headlong into a cliff face, and the devil finds itself between a rock and a hard case.

The other two abashai are headed towards the closest ridge-fort, about a mile or so above them.

[DM - wow, pretty good search check.]

The old gith bends over his work with whetstone and grinder, but continues to make small talk. "Yes, Sigil has always been a violent place, with so many barbarian races living in close quarters. Open warfare is only kept in check by Her Serenity. I heard the illithid attacked Git'riban yesterday. Did you see any of the action, warrior?"

As Du'minh putters around the shop, he sees nothing unusual. The sharpener lives like he would expect an old Mlar to, with functional and spartan accomidations.

Du'minh does notice, however, as the old gith is working on the arrowheads, that under the thinning hair on the back of his head is the shadow of a scar. He cannot tell its shape, if it is a glyph or just an old wound, without shaving the back of the old gith's skull.

"I also heard a rumor that there was a ulitharid among the raiders, and that it was slain. Please tell me you know who the slayer is. She, he, or they have some free blade-work awaiting them here, as a token of my respect."

*** *** ***

Ar'dru continues after the lead abashai. His blade meets smokey air, though, as the devil dips and dives away from his attack. Suddenly, he feels a sharp pain in the side of his face, as the abashai he passed by hits him with its tail-sting. The wound sizzles and smokes, as acid pours from the abashai's stinger into Ar'dru's face. [7 damage, and make a DC 14 fort save]

He has succeeded in preventing the devils from flying straight back and sounding the alarm, but is finding the aereal accrobatics makes his opponents devilishly hard to hit.

The abashai tries to flee from Ar'dru, screeching at the top of its lungs. The black rock of the mountain seems to swollow the echoes quickly, but overtop the the ship-like fort on the ridge, more abashai circle. There is a patrol of about a dozen pulling away from the top tower.

"Finish him!" Boz yells. He rises painfully, the devil's spear portruding from his belly. He yanks it out, and even from the air, Ar'dru's draconic eyes see the splash of blood.

[Ar'dru gets additional 'attack of opportunity' on the fleeing abashai, but if you don't succeed, you'll be in hot water for sure.]

[Aw, man ... Well, make another attack roll, or whatever else you plan on doing this round, but also make a reflex roll. The severity of your fumble will be determined by this roll]

Ar'dru buries his heavy blade deep into the fleeing abashai's back, cleaving it nearly in twain. The creature's dying screams fill the air. Ar'dru looks up and sees a flight of about a dozen abashai from the fortress turn towards the cries. A dozen more pour from the windows and circle about, forming up.

Boz growls and struggles into the air. He throws the abashai's spear as far as he can down the gully. "I'm bleeding too much, I'll lead them away. Find a hole. Give it a thousand-count and wing it as fast as you can to the summit." He indicates the peak of the mountain they've been climbing, "There will be a cave. If I survive, I'll meet you back in the City of Black Smokes, the portal to Sigil may not be in the same archway, but it will not wander far."

"If you succeed, I will not have failed, and may Her brood look for Bozzrundukarn on the Shoals of Despond. If you fail ... " his eyes, steel-colored orbs with black reptilian slits, lock upon Ar'dru's and he hisses, "Do not fail."

He then flies off, trailing blood.

Ar'dru lies low under a slab of basalt until the pursuit has passed him by. He then heads with all speed into the smokey air and the peak of the mountain.

Patrols of thirteen abashai each scour the jagged landscape. One group catches sight of Ar'dru, but he has the distance on them. His muscles ache with the effort, but he maintains his lead. When it is fairly obvious that he will reach the summit before they can catch up to him, they break off the chase, and circle back down the slopes.

Ar'dru nears the top of the mountain. Beyond, other dark peaks stretch out into the smogy distance. Then he sees a shaft of red light, spilling from the mountainside. He lands on the wide ledge in front of the cave and strides in.

Within is a vast, but fractured chamber. Steep slopes lead down into a great rift, from which gouts of flame and lava errupt. There are many ledges and shallow caves in the sides of the rift, and within each are gold, gems, and bones. Many of the skulls bear crowns, or the helms of great heroes.

The duthka'gith glides through the rift, seeking the source of the brightest flickering crimson light. Hot gasses blast from the untold depths of the mountain. Ar'du reaches a wide crevasse, and suddenly, a great tornado of flame errupts from the depths. From within the pillar of fire, two great eyes like pools of lava shine. A thunderous, yet feminine, voice shakes the mountain, causing rocks and precious things to clatter down into the rift.

"I am Schakrashaa, brood of Ephelomon. What tribute do you bring, little cousin? What desire drives you? "

A deep rumbling chuckle shakes the rock. From the pillar of flame emerges the gigantic head and neck of a massive red dragon.

"When I speak of tribute I do not mean such baubles as these, but your gift is accepted nonetheless, little cousin. No, I speak of your conquored foe, for the head of one of the Souless pleases Ephelomon's brood nearly as much as gold. The Pact may have been broken, but a new Alliance arises from the ashes. Bring forth your foe, Ar'dru Cha-rir, for I sense there is much more to your story."