True to her word, when I saw the Valsharess with my own eyes — not those of a dream — I was on my knees, Valen's alarmed cry ringing in my ears.
The Valsharess waited, towering above me on a platform of stairs, almost the same as she had appeared the night before.
Almost.
This time, she made no attempt at smiling; her eyes hard and lips pulled back in a sneer. Atop her head was a new addition; a massive crown of black metal webs, centered upon which sat a gleaming red jewel that hung across her forehead.
In her right hand hung the promise of pain — a long leather whip, coiled in her hand.
Behind her stood the menacing form of Mephistopheles, head bowed in subservience. Of his face, I could only see his midnight black hair and long twisting horns.
I swallowed.
His chest was bare, large expanses of muscled red skin showing from beneath his sleeveless robe. His massive hands were crossed at the wrist in front of him, and his signature trident was nowhere to be seen.
He didn't move, but for the steady rise and fall of his massive chest.
I blinked at the room; my skin tingling from the geas, and my head spinning from the teleportation spell. My satchel had fallen from my shoulder; hanging around my neck like a heavy necklace.
We were in a domed chamber, similar — but oh so different — to the entrance of the Seer's temple. The room was lit by an alter of red candles, light flickering across the harsh panes of the would-be queen's face.
Along the walls waited a coterie of women, all dressed in black with their own contrasting red accessories — a necklace, gloves, a cape, snarling lips painted to match narrowed eyes.
The Red Sisters waited for the command to kill.
And I had no disillusions about my abilities — They would be more than capable of killing me.
Alone, I didn't stand a chance.
"So," the Valsharess started slowly. "We meet again, foolish one." She sneered. "This time in the flesh." Her words ended in an almost purr, eyes narrowing.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, I forced myself to meet her eyes. She responded with a pointedly raised eyebrow; daring me to speak as smugly as I had in the earlier dream.
I held my head high.
"You won't win," I told her plainly.
"Oh?" Her eyebrow lifted higher towards her hairline. "I suppose it must seem that way to you." She took a step towards me. "Before I unleash Mephistopheles upon those pitiful insubordinates, I wanted to deal with you first… my guests and my prisoner."
All around me a circle of small glyphs lit up, red on black stone. My prison.
She smiled, but the twisted thing was nothing like the one from the night before. "I believe I promised you pain."
My eyes widened, pausing as it occured to me — all too late — that she might truly mean to torture me before commanding Mephistopheles to kill me.
Adrenaline flooded my system, pumping and beating through my veins as if it were trying to escape.
"You won't win," I repeated, voice shaking.
I reached down to move my satchel aside, eyes never leaving her own. Biting my cheek, I carefully pulled a small flask from the confines within — a move I'd practiced time and time again in the caves when I'd spoken to Valen on the march here.
I could do this with my eyes shut.
She threw her head back, laughing; so confident in her control of the situation that she didn't care to keep me in her sights. I palmed the flask, conscious of the Red Sister's eyes. Confident that I would neither drop it or expose it too soon, I pushed the satchel aside, standing slowly.
Next, I dared to remove my pack — my eyes on her all the while — the heavy comberance dropping to the floor with a dull thud, my bow with it.
'I'm here.' Enserric's humm sang through my mind, followed by a wave of reassurance.
Beads of sweat trickled down my cool brow as the Valsharess began pacing, a contemplative set to her harsh features, heeled boots ringing out around us.
"Do you see, now?" she said through a laugh. "Mephistopheles' power is mine to command. He's a hound on a leash." Her eyes flashed, voice dropping. "With him, I will become a goddess."
My eyes snapped from her to Mephistopheles and back. I wanted to run, I wanted to fight. The thudding of my heart surged so fast that I think I almost vomited right there on the temple floor. I could taste saliva thickening in my throat and I swallowed again.
"Mephistopheles," she purred over her shoulder, her eyes locked with my own. "I command you to show this fool surfacer what true pain is like."
She glided down the stairs, the click click click of her heels ringing in my ears. She didn't even look in the devil's direction as she made for her throne; the design a web of black twisting metal that matched her crown. She smiled as she flicked her red cloak out of the way, sitting back languishly.
My heart thudded louder in my ears as Mephistopheles started to lift his great head.
"Bring this wretched creature a slow and agonising death…. I wish to watch, and enjoy," she hummed, leaning back casually.
His hair fell back, slick black strands falling into his glowing red eyes. They locked onto me, and my stomach clenched like a vice.
He was smiling.
My breathing quickened, legs shaking under my weight.
And then the devil's voice was everywhere; booming, powerful. "I shall not do as you desire, great Valsharess."
It took a moment for his words to register with the Valsharess, her smile fading and then her eyes widening in disbelief. And — though she was staring straight at me — she seemed to notice me not at all.
"Instead…" he hummed languishly. "Instead I shall slay your precious Red Sisters."
They didn't die in a flash of fire, or a show of physical strength.
He wasn't even looking at them.
But they started screaming, all at once, all the same.
The symphony of sound tore through me like a great shard of glass, whilst my heart thudded in my chest and my pulse quickened to its limits. The screams were full of denial, pain, fear, and they were all together… human.
I gripped the flask tighter in my hand, the cool glass my lifeline.
The Valsharesss darted to her feet, her whip forgotten on the throne's arm as she considered the dying Sister's, eyes as wide as my own.
I dared to glance at one of the screaming drow as she began to quieten to a shrill whimper.
She was on her knees like I had been only moments earlier, her face washed and eyes wide as she tore at her arms, her face, everywhere.
And then her eyes rolled back in her head and the screaming stopped all at once, cut off as suddenly as they had begun.
She collapsed in a dead heap.
"What is the meaning of this?" the Valsharess spun on the devil, all spitting anger and wild fear.
He crossed his arms over his chest, a smile curving his thin lips. "You are a foolish mortal, drow, like any other. You know not the powers you tamper with." He flicked a hand in my direction and I knew this was my moment. "Now pay the price."
'Fight!' I saw red, and the force of Enserric's thought was enough to slow my erratic breathing.
The flask had already left my hand by the end of the devil's sentence, just as the glyph faded out of existence. It flew true and shattered as soon as it hit her metal-clad back, most of the green liquid fizzling harmlessly on contact with her armor. Most of it. The rest dripped between plates in the armour, some even splashing onto exposed expanses of her chest and face.
Her hiss of surprised pain only just covered the sound of sizzling flesh, as I dove over my pack and bow, drawing Enserric as I charged at her.
Her eyes widened, darting to her whip on the throne, all white around the edges as she realised she was unarmed.
She snaked out a hand; twisting, stretching.
I drew Enserric above my head.
Her fingers grazed the handle of her whip.
And then I cleaved her hand clean off her arm.
In a roar of effort, I slammed Enserric into the throne's arm with a resounding thud.
The Valsharess immediately pulled away, eyes wide in disbelief.
Her hand rolled to the floor.
Her scream was manic; high and pain-filled and pissed. She grabbed her bloody wrist, trying to stem the flow, colour draining from her face as she stared at the severed limb in disbelief.
Then her eyes snapped towards me, and we locked gazes over her bleeding stump, and I didn't have time to relish in the moment.
Blood slid down her arm, dripping to the floor. And yet, even though the pain was clear on her face, the defiant stance and angry crease through her forehead told me she wasn't about to go down without a fight.
I yanked Enserric free, conscious that he was complaining about my treatment of him, but unable to focus on the words.
I darted back, out of her reach as she slashed her uninjured arm through the air to catch at me desperately, magic lighting her fingers with flickering flames.
I darted away, easily dodging her desperate attack and taking on a defensive stance.
She didn't make to approach, instead raising her hand towards me and clenching it in claw as she snarled something in deep elven.
Her fist glowed red — as red as her flowing blood — with the promise of unknown magic.
I searched the room for somewhere to hide. Somewhere to run.
But it was too late.
Her spell grabbed hold of me and I stumbled under the sheer crushing force of it. I braced for the pain, for the coldness of death, but none of it came.
All I felt was drained, hollow. A shadow of myself.
"Oh dear, that looked like a powerful draining spell,' Enserric warned from somewhere far off.
She took a step forward, her clawed hand reaching again, as she shrilly hissed more words. My skin begins to glow, but it is nothing like the harmless faerie fire that I had been spelled with in Lith My'athar, what felt like a lifetime ago.
The pain increased in waves, small lulls giving false hope of an end, as I realised from the wild smile of red slashing her face that she was toying with me. Each peak robbed me of the ability to speak — to beg — sending me crashing to the hard floor, rigid and unable ot do anything else and the sheer force of hte pain.
I blinked in surprise, aware that we had come full circle so soon, but the thought was chased away by another wave of pain as it seared through my body.
Faintly, I was aware of dropping Enserris, from the clang of metal.
I braced myself, head thrown back and fingers of one hand splayed on the floor, the other holding my boot in an attempt not to simply curl up in the fetal position.
It felt as if my blood had become acid, intent on eating me from the inside out. All I could do was writhe, the occasional whimper escaping to echo beside unhinged laughter.
I forced myself to focus on the source of the laughter, gritting my teeth with the effort.
Her remaining hand clasping her bloody stump, the Valsharess stumbled towards me on long, shaky legs. Her eyes were wide and wild with manic energy as she approached me, stooping with effort to pick Enserric from where I'd dropped him.
She dragged his tip along the ground, her energy lagging, and I heard his indignant shout distantly, as I watched her approach.
She hauled his weight, lifting him with a giant heave until the blade rested atop my shoulder. The edge of the blade cut against the side of my neck, and I hissed with the fresh pain, twisting away as much as I could.
Preparing myself, I tightened my grip on my boot and pressed into the ground with my splayed hand.
I closed my eyes tight, stray tears escaping as I wept at my own suffering with great heaving breaths.
I shuddered as another wave of fresh pain from her spell took ahold of me, gasping as I struggled to breathe.
All the while, the Valsharess pushed more and more weight onto the blade.
I felt the tickle of her ragged breath on my face, the heat of her proximity.
It would be over soon.
My head fell forward and I forced myself to breathe; in and out, in and out.
Suddenly, the pain settled into a distant throbbing, keeping time with each of my desperate heartbeats, each of my desperate breathes.
In and out, in and out.
I bared my teeth. And then…
And then the blade bit deep and true and my eyes snapped open.
She blinked at me, gaping mouth opening and shutting as she tried to say something. Blood leaked from the corner of her lips, and more yet trickled from the knife I held in her chest.
The one I'd kept in my boot.
She sagged towards me — her blinking slowing, eyes drooping.
And then she collapsed in a heap, a small surprised gasp the last noise she made.
With a shout of effort, I pushed her weight away from me and she fell in a heap on the floor, blood pooling all around her.
I hissed, the burning of my blood finally, finally gone, with the death of the Valsharess.
I slapped a hand to the side of my neck to stem the steady flow of blood, as I gathered Enserric up with the other.
The blood moved over my hand, the thick fluid no warmer or cooler than my own burning skin
'That level drain won't have done you any favours,' Enserric hummed in warning.
I don't need to be at my best for this bit, was my single bitter thought as I twisted my neck to get a better look at Mephistopheles. He was leaning casually against the wall, an eyebrow raised and a lazy smile on his lips as he considered the death around us.
I felt the room shift for a moment, blinking in surprise and pausing to gain my balance. The blood at my neck didn't gush in a constant flow as it had only moments ago, but in the time with the stuttering beat of my heart. It was thick, flowing through my fingers as I clasped at the ripped flesh, already slowing as my fluttering pulse became slower, weaker.
I stumbled, reaching out a hand to steady myself and finding nothing.
'Sorry about that,' my sword — stained with the blood of both me and my enemy — offered sheepishly.
The devil stepped away from the wall, considering my struggle with a lazy smile. He clapped slowly.
"You've done well, mortal," Mephistopheles praised me in a low rumble.
I took a shuddering breath, stumbling to the nearest thing I could find and leaning against it with a sigh. The throne was cool, sending a wave of relief through my burning body as I lent my full weight against the arm.
"I thought…" I coughed, feeling blood welling in my mouth. Spitting it at my feet, I tried again. "I thought you were bound to do her bidding?" I hissed out my line.
"Indeed I was," he smirked, eyes twinkling at my pain. "But there are rules, and there are even older rules that I must obey, all of which supersede the bindings the fool drow placed me under." Another chuckle as he took in her still form. "Not that she knew this."
I did my best to raise Enserric, determined that — at the very least — I would die with a weapon in hand.
"She may have summoned me," the devil continued in a friendly tone; evidently someone who liked the sound of his own voice. "But to command me to slay someone that is an extension of myself? That was beyond even my power." His smile grew, showing his pointed eye teeth. "A pity."
"The relic." I nodded in understanding.
"Correct…" He hummed, eyes narrowing and momentarily put out that I had stolen his great reveal. He collected himself quickly with a nod. "Ever since you found my relic in the Plane of Shadows, you have been bound to it, as it has been bound to you. A most fortuitous event."
"Seems a silly place to leave a piece of yourself," I chided him, hand slipping away from my slick neck as another cough rackled my body.
The edges of my vision darkened, and I slumped against the back of the throne. I felt my eyes fall shut.
Just for a moment…
He barked a laugh, a deep booming thing that shook me to my core, causing my eyes to fly open.
He considered me with a shake of his head. "The relic was intended for the leader of my priesthood on this plane… but obviously, it was destined to be found by you instead." His glowing eyes bored into me. "That is why I called you here." Another chuckle. "I'm always pleased when a gamble turns out so very well."
I considered his pointed tone, throwing back my mind to a time that felt like so long ago, and so very detached from this moment.
The Yawning Portal's innkeeper, Durnan, had never personally sent word to me that Waterdeep needed champions. Instead, I'd seen a notice pinned to a board outside some church, merely days after Xanos and I had parted ways. It had come at a crossroad in my journey, unsure if I should continue to Waterdeep for the next stage in what should have been Emma's journey, or attempt to find someone powerful enough to portal me home.
The flyer had helped make up my mind.
That, and an idea that had formed in my head and taken root that fateful day…
My shoulders slumped in realisation at how far the devil's reach stretched, even bound as he'd been in the Underdark. He'd probably even sent the helpful priests that had traveled with me to the City of Splendor, when I had become lost in the Sword Mountains.
"And now," the devil's grin was gone, eyes roaming around the room as he planned his next step. "I am free. Able to roam amongst the mortals and bring suffering to whom I wish, when I wish. And not a one has the power to stop me now, not even the great Asmodeus." The last bit he spat, eyes snapping back to me at the unfamiliar name. "I would start with you, little one, but — since we are bound so closely — that would not be prudent. Instead, I will send you someplace that you may not interfere."
I jolted as my bag shifted, the flap opening of its own accord as the dried husk of flesh that was the relic floated towards the devil's outstretched hand, disappearing from sight.
I tensed, breathing in deeply through my nose.
"I wish you well in the Hells, mortal." He dipped his head, with a sly smile. "You have proven… most useful."
I closed my eyes slowly.
Breathe in, breathe out.
I don't know what I'd been so worried about, because between one moment and the next — room blinking out of focus as another materialised around me — I was back in the Reaper's nexus, Enserricc still clutched desperately in hand.
Cold air blew against the sweat on my skin, and I pulled my hand away in surprise, the blood was still there — still warm — but the pain was a dull memory, the flesh knitted and whole.
My breathing seemed to stutter in my lungs before I let it go, but as I did I felt the tension drain from my body. My breathing returned to normal and after a few more controlled breaths I felt as if I could finally move without collapsing.
I was ready.
I tried to remind myself that death had been the easy part. This next bit was going to be… well; hell.
I took in the silent form of the Reaper as he considered me, bare boned hands crossed against his cloaked chest as he awaited my approach. Behind him, a door glowed white with promise — slightly ajar — where before it had always been barred from me.
I took another steadying breath.
Now all I had to do was wait and see who of my companions had followed me to their death, and who would follow me into hell.
I felt my heart stutter at the memory of Valen's smile as he'd celebrated the Valsharess' armies defeat, stomach clenching as I remembered the low timber of his voice as he'd apologised.
But almost as suddenly, another memory rose to the surface — unbidden and unwanted — reminding me what he had looked back in the cultist's crypts; dead and broken.
This is what I hoped for him. For Nathyrra, I pulled my lips up in distaste, wrapping my arms around myself.
I held my head high and approached the awaiting Reaper.
NOTEBOOK EXTRACT
The following is in Jane's all too familiar messy scrawl. The pages in this section of the notebook are curled at the edges and more brittle than the others.
Cania - City of Lost Souls
The eighth layer of the Nine Hells of Baator. A relentless realm on seemingly living cold. The City of Lost Souls rests upon a large glacier, in amongst a mountain range.
Natives:
Gelugon (ice devils), cornugon (horned devils), pit fiends, imps, ghosts.
Other notable races: githyanki pilgrims, erinyes, cambion and tieflings (baatezu only). Note to self: sometimes a companion with tanar'ri blood is more trouble than it's worth.
Locations:
North-east: The Gatehouse
East: Quarry office (run by the pit fiend Gru'ul), carved post
South-east: Carved post
South-west: Hellbreath tavern, carved post
Centre: carved post, crystal
North-west: Carved post, Temple
North: Cave (Cania's very own Fortress of Solitude), carved post
Overall, would not recommend as a holiday spot if prone to frostbite.
1 star rating.