Chapter 10: An imminent end

Chapter summary: When looking to succeed, does one go for intimidation or seduction? No, I'm not talking about Jarlaxle.

Disclaimer: Jarlaxle and Athrogate are the property of R.A. Salvatore and Wizards of the Coast. Forgotten Realms and Karsus the archwizard are the property of Wizards of the Coast. Fan characters belong to me. Other canon characters may appear throughout the story. Preview image is the property of iDaisan, commissioned by me a few years ago.

Her face was beautiful even as she pushed against the dark wall that made up the binding circle. Amandus Albescu observed the demon queen Lilith alternate between hissing and glaring to pouting and sending him seductive glances. None of it worked, of course. He'd been selected among all the other arcanists exactly because neither intimidation nor wily seductions had any effect on him. Still, he appreciated the aesthetics of the succubus before him, especially as she grew more frustrated the less effective her methods were.

This was why the Shadow Weave would forever be superior to the Weave. Surely no Weave user could speak of trapping someone as powerful as Lilith with minor entrapment spells only. Not that Amandus was lacking in power – but the Shadow Weave circumvented the regular rules where bindings of creatures attached to the Weave were concerned. Lilith had eluded him long enough and while the princess had regrettably escaped, she wouldn't have far to go. Furthermore, night was approaching and as such, Cyriacus should have no trouble tracking her down. He was a bit delayed in his most recent trip to the beholder caves, but the arcanist was far from worried. Fuelled by the Weave though they were, beholders were powerful even to the likes of his warrior-wizard, though no true match for him, of course. No doubt his capable servant was just thorough in his work.

The ancient succubus' red, reptilian eyes and porcelain skin were forced to show themselves under his restrictions. The creature was tricky and could alter her appearance at will, but under the power of his magic were no such illusions possible. As such, her fingers and toes were claws similar to that of bears and huge, bat-like wings stood out on her back. Her tail was visibly wrapped around her torso and her form bare, which left nothing to the imagination. From ankle to thigh, however, she was covered in white fur. Amandus hadn't believed the tales to be true, for surely such a bestial trait was unfitting for a female sex demon, but now he witnessed the undeniable fact of it first hand.

"So then," he began, deciding to address the creature directly, "now that you have nowhere else to go, we begin the game of patience." She shot him a bored look. "You may be immortal, demon, but so am I." A slight raise of her eyebrow, but she didn't contest it. That meant his bluff had gone through. "I did indeed start out human, but as the centuries have passed, I too have learned the patience that your kind is known for. You will stay down here until you decide to tell me two things."

"What?" she asked, her voice echoing with sheer force despite her bindings, a testament to the power of this being.

"Karsus' plans for Felicia," he said. "Let's start with that."

"No dinner first?" Lilith shot back with a fake pout. Dark tendrils shot forth through her form, sprouting out of her nose, mouth and ears and suffocating any screams of pain she would have made. The suffering was obvious in her eyes, however, which had widened and reddened further. Her powerful form trembled from the physical torment that went through her body, held aloft in the air not by any effort on her part. Amandus took great joy in what he did, not only because it was necessary. Such were the ways of Thultanthar.

As the darkness receded from the demon, she crashed to the ground, coughing and sputtering before throwing the usual curses and threats his way. Amandus found solace in the knowledge that Shar's punishments would be far worse should he fail her and thus remained unaffected.

"It's not even my most powerful spell," he informed her some seconds into her tirade, which put an effective end to it, "yet it could defeat your inborn spell resistance and demonic resilience with ease. Shall I try another?"

"Your previous spell merely tickled," she spat.

He shot her a bemused look, and while he gave her credit for maintaining her defiance, he had his goals to accomplish and such stubbornness was only in the way. Another of his spells struck, this one psychological, and while there was no scream, not even a change in her expression, her teeth gritted and sweat broke out on her brow. Clearly she was fighting it off with all she had.

Unfortunately for her, spells targeting the mind were a Shadow Weave speciality. Soon enough the veins on her beautiful face became visible, her hair was on edge and her entire form trembled. She got stuck in her slightly upright position on the ground until her body was ridden with violent spasms. Amandus waited a few more minutes before he saw fit to end the spell – deception was one of the greatest skills of her kind, after all – and she collapsed in a heap. She didn't get up again from where she lay, however. He could tell she was breathing from the movement of her back and wings, but otherwise she lay very still. The Shade waited for a reaction, and eventually she got back up again.

Thus passed the hours between them. Amandus knew it would take a lot more to force any truth out of Lilith, but he did enjoy systematically shattering her defiance. Like so many other Netherese men, he couldn't stand defiant and domineering females, regardless of race, and believed himself superior to them on the basis of his manliness alone. Where female demons were concerned, he added his magic as an additional factor, but his belief in his own superiority remained as it was. Lilith would break, thus proving once more the irrefutable laws of nature.

Steps sounded and he turned to see Cyriacus approach him. The fighter appeared no worse for the wear after fighting Shar knew how many beholders, but such was what Amandus had come to expect from him. "Night approaches soon," the arcanist informed him. "Have you mapped out the places the princess could have gone?"

"She wandered into the desert," Cyriacus informed him, an unhappy look on his face, "and there she perished before I could get to her."

Amandus suddenly found himself at a loss for words, his thoughts jumbled together as he tried to make sense of these news. Felicia Helenus, albeit female, shouldn't have succumbed so easily. "Did you at least gather her corpse?"

The warrior shook his head. "There wasn't much to gather. By the time I arrived she'd been swarmed with vultures who had picked her apart."

"Fool," the arcanist snapped, "even her bones will suffice for a resurrection!"

"I shall gather them this night," the fighter said with a bow and apologetic tone. "Any clerics we know with a deity willing and powerful enough to restore her?"

Amandus pondered this question. Shar was unpredictable in everything except darkness and evil, and there was no telling if she would agree to bring Felicia back to life. After all, the princess was said to have worshipped a goddess that Shar and Selûne both abhorred and avoided. Then again, having lived isolated on the Plane of Shadow most of his life, the arcanist knew only clerics of that dark religion and no-one else. Unless he considered the priests of Kronos, whom he'd met in the city of Sigil once, but praying to a Dawn Titan slumbering away on Abeir was the same as getting sucked into a void of nothingness. Furthermore, they were said to devour a piece of the soul of the person they brought back to life, which included important memories. It simply wasn't worth the price.

It seemed Shar was their best bet. "I'll ask for a priest or priestess of the Hidden One from the city. They speak of divine reverence a lot, but their loyalty inevitably lies with Shade first, and it's in the city's best interests that we recover the princess."

"For the greatness of Shade," Cyriacus droned, not missing a beat.

"For our return," Amandus corrected him, though it was only a partial correction. "We must have our weapons ready to annihilate the phaerimm, and knowing Karsus, he no doubt left a lot of them behind. Felicia is our only tie to him and we must know what she knows."

"I can save you some trouble, then," Lilith suddenly spoke up, drawing the attention of both males. "The brat knows nothing. If you were to tell her how Netheril fell, she'd probably be shocked and surprised."

"As if I would believe your words alone, demon," the arcanist scoffed and sent her into another wave of pain.

"Beg pardon, My Lord," Cyriacus spoke up, "but after you succeed in gathering the information you need from the princess, what do we do with her? Will she go free?"

"Of course not," the wizard said with great distaste. "We can't very well have her reveal our plans prematurely to the people on the Prime."

"A 'guest of honour', then?" the warrior pressed. He seemed surprisingly curious about Felicia, but then again, Cyriacus was one to think of every contingency of a plan, and that also included the aftermath of the main events.

"To show our finest hospitality to a female with such an unattractive personality?" Amandus' face scrunched up in disgust. Though he knew her only from reputation, she'd been a thorn in the side politically – especially for the men – during her short time in Netherese courts. "Throw her in a prison cell and let your men do with her as they please. It should teach her some proper humility."

"I fear I find such a thing unacceptable," the fighter said all of a sudden. Before the arcanist could react, a black stone appeared in Cyricacus' hand – a chardalyn, Amandus' logical mind managed to put together – and then he tossed it to the ground, where it shattered into thousands of tiny pieces.

The form that had been the wizard melted away into nothingness as Felicia's spell took effect. Jarlaxle had seen that before and knew what to expect, so he jumped behind some boulders to hide.

A scoff sounded from the trapped demon. "I wasn't even tortured by the real thing? How insulting."

As always, the drow found himself most puzzled by the priorities of the denizens of the Abyss.

"Beg pardon, my dear," the voice of the arcanist sounded throughout the cavern, bouncing off walls and rocks and effectively hiding his location, "but my spells were still at full effect, if that helps any."

"Not really," the succubus argued back. Her voice rang out in a fashion similar to the Shade, but it echoed with ancient power. This was no ordinary succubus, the dark elf realised later than he cared to admit. Furthermore, the demon's evil bore a striking resemblance to that of his late mother.

"Pray tell, stranger, how did you manage to best my finest servant and assume his form in a way I couldn't recognise?" the man's voice echoed. Apparently he'd decided to ignore the demon, for now. "Not to toot my own horn too much, but illusions are a bit of a speciality of mine."

Jarlaxle put a wand against the side of his neck. "Perhaps you have a weakness against transformative magic," he said, his voice bouncing off the walls as well. Throwing a second chardalyn at his feet, he created a dead magic zone around himself, just to prevent any Shadow Weave attacks from reaching him.

"A weakness I shall be sure to inform my colleagues of," the Shade replied. "I thank you kindly for the information."

"Don't thank me yet," Jarlaxle replied and then the roaring laughter of Athrogate sounded somewhere behind the trapped demon. The drow chanced a look and spotted a swinging morningstar go out of view a little to the left of some large standing stones right behind the binding circle. Two more chardalyns shattering sounded on either side of the fiend, creating more dead magic zones, but outside the perimeter of the magic that kept the demon bound. No doubt neither beholder nor cat had any wish to free the evil entity. Jarlaxle readily agreed with such wisdom.

The dwarf's laughter drew up short, however, suggesting the wizard wasn't out of spells from his torture session, as they had first assumed. Another shattering sound came from the exact area that the Shade was, however, and a grunt that wasn't dwarven followed suit. Athrogate coughed rather loudly, but at least the sound confirmed that he was alive. The Shade appeared from behind the standing stones and the elf jumped up, ready to throw another enchanted stone at where the wizard stood. His enemy stepped up right next to the binding circle, however. Jarlaxle froze, for if he threw the stone there, he'd undo the magical bindings that kept the powerful demon trapped.

"You move far too gracefully to be human," the Shade remarked. "What are you?"

"Someone with a very different definition of 'unattractive' when it comes to female personalities," the drow quipped, but didn't undo his transformation.

"In that case, you should throw the chardalyn," the demon spoke up, opportunism shining strongly in her eyes. "I guarantee you no-one would take more pleasure in tearing apart that Shade than me."

Jarlaxle didn't move.

It was a peculiar situation to be in. The magic of the Shade couldn't reach the drow, yet the drow couldn't disarm the Shade, and in the middle of it all was a powerful demon. Athrogate was still coughing, and loudly at that, and the beholder wasn't in a position to attack the wizard, provided the treacherous thing was even still about. That basically left the cat and an unarmed Felicia. Well, somewhat unarmed.

"An elf, I assume," the Shade continued. "What's your interest in all of this, fairy? If you and your dwarven friend are looking for treasure, there's plenty to be had in the beholder caverns."

Jarlaxle found it more than a little ironic to be referred to by the racial slur that most drow used about their surface cousins. "I do indeed value treasure, adventure and the company of women," he said. "You may consider me and my friend adventurers, of sorts."

"Perhaps we can make a deal for you to fetch the bones of the princess, then," the wizard offered. "In exchange, you shall have treasures from the city of Shade."

It pleased Jarlaxle that the Shade had bought into that lie, at least, and he feigned curiosity. "My services are very expensive, and I can't say I care for the aftermath that you have planned for her."

"What do you care for the fate of a stranger?" the Shade countered.

"I don't care for rape," Jarlaxle clarified. "You may consider it a principle, however few of them I have. If you do not renege on this part, I decide she's better off dead."

"And how will you make sure I even keep that part of the bargain?" the Shade asked, smugness written all over his face. "After all, she will be within my power to do with as I please once we're done here, and you will be too far away to have any influence."

The succubus snorted. "You're both fools if you think having that brat under your influence is so easily accomplished."

"I have my way of keeping tabs on people," the dark elf argued, "and I already know one of the weaknesses of your magic, Shade."

The smugness died away to be replaced by a defiant sneer. "I think you will find me difficult to keep tabs on, elf."

This time it was Jarlaxle's turn to smirk. "Whoever said it would be you?"

"You won't get anywhere near her after she's been resurrected," the Shade argued.

"You're a terrible bargainer," the drow shot back, his annoyance with this arrogant mage growing with every second.

The Shade snapped. "I don't have to bargain! Fetch me those bones or I let Lilith loose upon the world."

"He says that as if it's such an original thing to do," the succubus droned and rolled her eyes. "I've been on the Prime for millennia and not once did it change drastically or become completely annihilated by my hand. Not that I don't have the power to do so, of course, but I simply can't be bothered."

So this was Lilith. Jarlaxle wasn't sure what to make of her, a demon though she was.

"I can set you free and leave this place faster than you can kill me," the Shade threatened. "You'll be left with nothing but an elf and a dwarf to sate your destructive anger, as all demons are wont to give into."

"All male demons, perhaps," Lilith countered and yawned. "Already you bore me so. You have no leverage over this elf and his companion, your typical Netherese arrogance is resulting in illogical and irrational behaviour on your part and you will die the fool for it." She fixed him with her indifferent, serpentine stare. "You're not even worth the attempt at revenge."

The Shade opened his mouth to speak just as Athrogate sneaked up behind him. Seeming to have eyes in the back of his head, the wizard leaned down quickly and placed his hand on the ground, uttering a single word. The dwarf went flying into the darkness of the cavern, sounds of one impact after another coming until finally, he seemed to have landed, although the drow figured it had been a most ungraceful impact judging from the flight. A groan sounded from Athrogate a split second later, testament to dwarven fortitude, but it didn't sound like he would get up any time soon.

The beholder was nowhere to be seen, and Jarlaxle figured the aberration had probably abandoned them to save himself. That meant he had the cat and Felicia left to assist him, and the latter really shouldn't show herself.

A shattering sound came, and far too close to the binding magic than the dark elf cared for. Both he and the Shade withdrew in instinctive fear of attack from the succubus. She rushed forth but was met with a dark, translucent wall that kept her trapped. A cry of rage came from her, but she couldn't break free of her bindings. The wizard looked confused rather than triumphant, however, but before he could make his next move did the beholder appear before him. Jarlaxle witnessed a single ray pierce the chest of the wizard and create a hole where the heart had once been. The Shade looked down with disbelief before he collapsed and landed in a very unflattering fashion on the ground, death spasms riding his body.

Relief didn't flood the drow as his innate scepticism and distrust of beholders remained, preparing him for what would be the inevitable betrayal. He thought to store his chardalyn in a pocket, all the while keeping an eye on the monster and getting ready to fire a bolt of lightning at it with the wand hidden up his sleeve. Not even the paranoid dark elf could have foreseen what happened next. Only one eye ray came at him, but it didn't strike him, rather it hit the dark stone in his hand. It was ripped from his grip by the force of the ray's telekinetic power and flew towards Lilith. Jarlaxle rushed forth to grab it, somehow resisting two of the beholder's rays before he was thrown back by the telekinetic one. He crashed into the boulder behind him, the pain of the impact shooting through his entire body and making him slump to the ground. An all too familiar shattering sound came next. Jarlaxle looked up as the demon stepped forth and could only watch as she walked past the perimeter of the circle, no dark wall stopping her this time. Her aura of power and evil grew even greater than before, and for a moment it was like being in the temple of Lolth in his home city.

"Now, beholder," she said, "as we agreed! Kill this Lolth-worshipping piece of drow filth and his companion! After that we go in search of the brat's bones!"

The aberration came into full view, covering up the physically beautiful form of Lilith with its hideous, beastly appearance. Somehow it didn't seem like much of a change, and that thought stayed with him even as three eye stalks aimed at him and fired.