The subtle feeling of wrongness was something Aly couldn't escape, even as she walked down the hall towards the library. The halls themselves were a far cry from the austere quarters of apprentices, filled with paintings, framed magical texts, and graceful sculptures. She may have been noble, but she was far enough down in the ranks that people cared less about what she did, the only reason she had even been allowed to study arcane magic despite her sisters' best efforts to beat it out of her. The pain had only hardened her resolve to improve and study, her sole rebellion against her family. The Matron had thought it almost as amusing as it was frustrating and granted her permission in the end, though with caveats intended to set the budding wizard up for failure.
"There you are. We've been waiting for hours," Nede complained. The priestess-to-be was there waiting, wearing plain street clothes rather than the robes of a novice. She was standing beside a figure who made Alystin's heart stutter.
Sabal A'Daragon stood at an average height for her race, but she always seemed a little taller, even when she was smiling that barely-there smile. Her lean frame was lined with many scars even in youth and the angles of her face were sharp from malnutrition in her youth. Her amber eyes were as lively and wild as ever, perhaps the most expressive part of her face. "Took you long enough," she teased Aly.
"Sorry," Alystin said automatically. She could feel a surge of emotions boiling towards the top. Her eyes stung and her vision blurred.
"Goddess, Sabal, way to hurt her feelings," Nede said with a laugh.
"What's wrong, Aly?" Sabal said, eyes concerned. She stepped over and pulled the wizard into her arms.
Alystin rested her head against Sabal's shoulder, trying to stop herself from crying in relief. Sabal's hand stroking her hair was only making it harder not to. "I missed you," the mage said thickly.
"I'm sorry," Sabal said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you, ussta ssin. You know I love you."
Alystin froze. "Sabal," she said quietly. "You never said you loved me at the Academies."
The woman sighed. "We're not students any more, Aly." She looked hurt when Aly jerked back away from her suddenly.
Alystin glanced down at her lover's hands. There was no sign of the ivory band Sabal had worn faithfully for well more than a century. "Then where's the ring I gave you when we graduated?" she said, looking back up at Sabal. The wrongness was intense now. Why couldn't she remember what she'd been doing that had caused her delay? Why was she back at Sorcere? Her memory was screaming at her. Brief visions of her friends caught in battle started to flicker back to her.
"What?" Sabal said, looking suddenly flustered. "Aly, it's me. I—"
"Prove it," Alystin said as her hands balled into fists. She could feel a fury roaring to life inside herself. How dare they impersonate the people she cared about? She didn't have her staff or her spell-book, but she did have a few powerful evocation spells stored in her rings. "What did you say to me the last time I saw you?"
"Aly, it's been a long time—"
"You're not my Sabal," Alystin snapped. Without hesitating, she hurled a powerful fireball right at the two figures. Visions of Sorcere vanished in an instant, showing her a barren, dark hell-scape of twisted and polished black stone lit by dully glowing braziers. The two smoldering figures picking themselves up off the ground looked like Sabal and Nede still, but their demonic nature had been revealed: horns and claws, bat wings and tails.
"Clever thing," the one that had been impersonating Nede said, its words a hiss between clenched teeth.
The one that looked like Sabal advanced cautiously on the mage. "It's not my fault this place made me into a demon, Aly," it said softly. "I still love you. Isn't that enough? We can find a way to change me back."
"You're not my Sabal," Alystin repeated, gaining confidence from her anger. "You're trying to tell me what you think I want to hear. I know what you are, demon."
"Aly, please," the demon said gently. Before it could make any further plea, Alystin blasted it with another fireball.
While it was trying to regain its senses, Aly cast mage armor on herself. She had one fireball left. After that, she would be down to her fists. It was not an ideal situation. Why didn't she have any spells prepared? The answer was obvious to her: she must have already used them, which meant there had been quite the battle. The second succubus went to lunge for the wizard when a black blade burst through its chest from behind. Someone had run it completely through. The demon slumped over, revealing its assailant: their petitioner guide.
"Apologies," the creature said to Alystin. "It took me some time to locate you."
The succubus that looked like Sabal threw itself at Aly, knocking her over in a grapple, no doubt intending to use its draining kiss on the wizard. Delicate though the mage might have seemed, however, she was still combat-trained. Aly slammed her head into the succubus's face, earning a screech from the creature. Without a dagger, she couldn't end the creature, but that blow from her forehead broke the grapple enough for the petitioner to drag the demon off.
Without a word, the fiendish drow soul drove its ugly blade through the succubus's head. "Nice work," the petitioner commented, watching Aly pick herself up. "They wouldn't have gone down nearly so easily without those fireballs." It held out Aly's spell-book to her. "Take the time to rest and prepare."
"What about the others?" Aly asked.
The creature shrugged. "They won't be going anywhere," it said. "They are caught in their own webs, as you were. They are less skillful at breaking away. I imagine you are more trained in aspects of the mind than most, though I hear your cleric is doing an excellent job of not yielding to temptation."
Alystin cracked a smile. "That, or they're doing a poor imitation of Maev." On a more serious note, she continued, "I need a safe place to prepare and at least a few hours." She didn't want to have to take so long, but she was already cutting it close by not really resting. She would be exhausted by the end of this as well.
"This way," the creature said, gesturing for her to follow. As they walked, it said, "Drasira will know something is awry in a few hours, when they do not report back. But until then, we have time to recover our strength."
"I don't remember how we came to be here," Alystin admitted. "But if I'd used up all my spells…"
"It was a fierce battle," the petitioner said. "But then Drasira sprung her trap, using the magic of the plane to bind you and your comrades. For obvious reasons, I was not so contained. From there, it was easy for her to captivate you in an effort to learn your secrets. I moved into the shadows, waiting for one of you to break loose. I'm not surprised it was you."
The wizard wasn't certain she bought that excuse, but it was possible. She would have been in a very bad spot had the petitioner not come along, so she decided to let it go without any interrogation. It was charity repaid by a grudging sort of almost-trust. She followed the guide through side passages to a small alcove where the mage could conceal herself and study her spell-book. Alystin pressed herself into the shadows where she would be better hidden, though her white hair might give her away without a piwafwi to pull up over it. She wasn't certain where her cloak had gone. If they'd stripped her of items, they had done a poor job of it. After all, she'd still had her rings. It was likely overconfidence on the part of the demons, the succubi operating on the assumption that she would be so thoroughly ensorcelled that she wouldn't even think to use her stored spells.
Her guide kept watch while she studied and prepared, hand on its sword. It was silent as it watched up and down the hall, expression stern.
Finally, after some indefinite amount of time had passed—Aly hoped it had only been a few hours of brief rest and study, but it was hard to tell—the wizard rose to her feet. "I'm ready."
"Then let us begin," the creature said. It sounded confident of their chances, even though the odds were not necessarily in the favor of just the two of them. "I can take you into the visions of the others. They are not together, so it may take us a while to recruit them. I would suggest the priest first. He will not be able to hold out much longer."
Alystin nodded, wishing she had her staff as an extra level of security. "Let's hurry, then."
They hurried through the passages until they saw a blurring, swirling ward ahead. It was clearly designed to keep something in rather than to keep things out, because it offered no resistance as Aly and her guide passed through it. They broke out into a familiar setting: Maev's room in the manor house that belonged to her family. Alystin had visited many times over the duration of her stay in Silverymoon, so she recognized it immediately. She also recognized Maev's voice coming from the bathroom, faintly hurt. "…don't you love me?"
"I do," Camran responded, sounding troubled. "But it doesn't feel right, Maev. I don't want to take advantage of you."
The wizard had never been so glad her friend was almost stupidly honorable. She walked straight through the doorway to see a deeply torn Camran with a naked Maev in his lap. The succubus masquerading as the paladin was still wet from the bath that she'd probably been taking when he came in. "Camran, it's time to go," Aly said in her best authoritative voice, gripping her spell-book more tightly in one hand as she readied another vicious spell.
Camran went red. "Aly, what are you—" he started to ask, clearly embarrassed.
Maev ignored the mage for a moment, leaning in and pressing her lips against Camran's before he could react. Alystin could almost see the life leaving him. The cleric started to struggle, clearly aware of what was happening, but the powerful suggestive effects of that kiss were stealing the strength and conviction to fight from his body. "Protect me," the succubus ordered when she pulled back, climbing out of Camran's lap. She made no attempt to cover herself, dodging back further into the room to avoid Aly and the petitioner.
"Camran, I don't want to hurt you," Aly said when the cleric jumped up to his feet, drawing his dagger. It was the only weapon he had on him, his staff laying by the drowess's feet.
"I have no such compunctions," the petitioner said pleasantly. There was a horrible, banshee wail that split the air as some invisible force rippled forward in a surge that knocked Camran off his feet backwards.
Aly knew that sound very, very well: powerful psionics manifesting. She looked over her shoulder reflexively, hoping to catch sight of Sabal. But her lover was nowhere to be seen. When she looked back, she saw that Camran had been bowled right over and the petitioner was advancing on the succubus with a blade drawn. The human cleric was dazed, but starting to regain himself. Alystin would need to intervene before he killed the fiendish soul that was—no matter how temporarily—on their side. She stepped forward and caught her friend by the arm as he picked himself up, assisting. "You don't really want to fight us, Camran," she said in a reasonable tone, trying to appeal to the parts of Camran that were struggling against the compulsion. "I'm your friend, remember?"
"But Maev—" he started to say plaintively even as he halted his aggressive action. He wasn't looking in great shape between the psionic blow and the succubus's draining kiss.
"That's not her," Aly said. "We need to find the others."
There was a shrill shriek from the succubus when the petitioner hacked into it. "Camran!" it screamed.
Camran went to lunge at the petitioner's unprotected back, but Aly jerked hard on his arm to prevent him from reaching their guide. "That's not her!" she said again.
"Camran, please, you can't let them kill me!" the false Maev started to beg with tear-filled eyes. Before the demon could make another plea, the petitioner brought its blade down in a vicious arc that silenced the succubus forever. Once it was dead, the demon's true form was revealed.
The cleric of Sune shuddered a little bit. "Did you have to kill her?" he asked in a quiet voice.
Aly put a hand on his back. "I know it looked like Maev, but it wasn't her," the drowess said. "Your love is safe, sound, and waiting for us back in Silverymoon. Now let's get out of here so we can get you back to her, okay?"
Camran nodded, looking a little bit more certain even if he was still pale. "Where are the others?" he asked. "The last thing I remember is the entrance to the Labyrinth."
"Ahead, somewhere," Aly said. She looked to the penitent, ignoring the measuring and somewhat amused gaze of the creature. It seemed to be enjoying Camran's distress far more than Alystin was comfortable with. "Who's next?"
"I would advise the dwarf," the creature said, motioning for them to follow it again.
Camran picked up his staff without further word and set off after their fiendish guide. The wizard was right beside him as he moved, free hand glowing with the faint light of a held spell.
Storunn was not far away. The sound of revelry spilled through the halls, a dwarven shouting match easily audible above the roar of a crackling fire and the general sound of people having a good time. Aly lead the way through the ward to reveal Storunn in the midst of dwarves who could only be his clan, standing on the table and waving a tankard as he recited the tale of their adventures to his audience of disguised demons.
"There are a lot of them," Camran said uneasily.
"That might be a problem," Aly admitted. She sighed and focused on the task at hand. "Storunn!" Her voice broke through the merriment, drawing the attention of every demon in the room. "It's time to go!"
"What, don't Sabal be missing ye?" Storunn said with a chuckle. "Lass, ye oughta have better things to do than bother me and me kin."
"Storunn, do you remember what you were doing?" Camran said, trying to keep his tone from showing his nerves at all the demons present. They were likely less powerful, but there were quite a few of them.
"Aye, lad, I was drinkin'!" Storunn said with a big grin. "An' before that, I was fightin'!"
"Fighting who, Storunn?" Aly pressed. "This is important."
A look of puzzlement crossed the dwarf's face, which was enough to make the ringleader among the 'dwarves' stand up. "They're just trying to ruin a good time, Storunn," the disguised demon said. "Typical elf."
"Storunn, we have unfinished business," the wizard said. "You can come back here when it's done." It was a lie, but she didn't want to give him nearly as much room to object right now as insisting that he leave and never return would.
"Do ye listen to dark elves over yer own kinsmen now, Storunn?" one of them bellowed with a laugh.
Storunn frowned. "Ye watch yer manners with that dark elf," he warned thunderously. "Aly's a good un." With that, he looked at his companion. "Right behind ye, Aly."
"Then you die!" one of the demons snarled. The illusion suddenly evaporated and they were surrounded by bloated, putty-faced dretches. Storunn barely looked perturbed, probably because he was deep enough into his cups that slamming a tankard into the head of the nearest one seemed like a good idea. It was more effective than what Aly had been expecting, certainly.
The dark elf hurled a fireball into the midst of the group of dretches, narrowly missing Storunn. The dwarf didn't seem bothered in the slightest, wading into combat with the demons wielding his tankard as a blunt instrument and the lid of a keg like a shield. It amused even the petitioner with them, who joined the fray much to the displeasure of the dretches. They were cowardly creatures by nature and the moment the advantage was turned against them, they split and ran. Not that they made it far, between the spells of the casters and the powerful attacks generated by Storunn and the fiendish drow soul with him. By the end of the fight, Storunn and their guide were spattered with demonic ichor and a little bruised, but mostly uninjured.
"Little buggers," Storunn said calmly, watching them go. He went over and picked up his axe from where it was laying on the now-exposed stone floor. The illusion had vanished around them. "I'm guessin' that we didn't win yet, then."
"Correct," Aly said. "Now we just need to find Linnan and Nendir."
"Me?" a voice chirped from the door on the opposite side. The group looked up to see Linnan step through, looking particularly small and concerned at the moment. He was a little paler than last they'd seen him, ruffled, and spattered with demon blood.
"You freed yourself?" Aly said, scrutinizing him. There was no illusion active on him that she could see.
"Dunno about that," Linnan admitted. "Just ran away. Not sure any of us are really free yet."
"He is perceptive, for a surfacer," their guide commented. "Drasira's servants must have used the wrong bait with you, halfling."
"Yeah," Linnan said, brushing his shaggy hair out of his face. "They figured I'd be in it for the gold and the like. Don't get me wrong—I love coin. But I like having people to spend it with more and they didn't nail their impression of you guys."
"Good to have you back," Camran said with a grin, patting the halfling on the back as they joined him. "Now we just need Nendir. Then we can take on Drasira."
"We will be doing those two things at the same time," their guide said. "Last I heard, the yochlol was interrogating him."
"I suppose it's too much to hope that she'd play 'good copper'?" Linnan said, trying not to cringe at the thought of what his friend was going through.
The petitioner chuckled. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, halfling."
"Tell me you have healing spells ready, Camran," Aly said. She knew better than to assume Nendir would be in fighting shape when they reached him. The cruelties of demons were virtually limitless. However, she did know that the elf would be defiant to the last. Nendir was, in her estimation, a good soul. Occasionally almost stupid in his bravery, but fundamentally good. They got along far better than two ancient enemies should have.
"I do," the cleric answered, flashing his friend a reassuring smile.
Relieved, Aly nodded. "Then let's move," she said. "The sooner we find Nendir, the better."
"You will tell me why you are here," the yochlol said. It was in its natural form, a large eight-tentacled mass that resembled melted wax, its foul stench almost unbearable to the elf. He was shackled on a rack, limbs pulled until they were in agony and straining at the joints. It seemed to be gazing at him with a violently malevolent curiosity, though he also got the feeling that it was intensely puzzled by the appearance of an elf in the Demonweb.
Nendir maintained his silence, glaring at the one-eyed demon.
"Obstinacy will gain you nothing," the demon said. "Your friends have already revealed everything I needed to know. You are merely confirmation…and amusement."
The elf closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't believe the creature in the slightest. It wouldn't have been prying so deeply if it really knew their intentions. He chuckled faintly. "I hear the Hells are nice this time of year," he said dryly. "You should try them on for size."
The rack tightened another notch, wrenching his already stretched limbs. Soon things would begin to really tear. "You are plotting something. Revenge, perhaps." He could hear just the faintest trace of irritation and impatience in the creature's tone. "Did Corellon send you?"
Nendir caught a glimpse of the door creeping open ever so slowly. No demon would ease it open like that. He was confident that his back up was finally here. "You'll get yours, demon," he said with a sudden grin. "But if you want to know who sent me? No one. I came all on my own."
Before the yochlol could ask another question, it was set upon from behind by a furious Linnan, who had broken rank to assault the creature. The demon let out a shriek and abruptly changed forms, taking that of a giant spider as it whirled around. Drasira would be no easy foe to handle. However, the same could be said of the group that had just come through the door with spells and weapons at the ready. Alystin's lightning bolt narrowly missed the halfling, aimed with her usual precision. It was followed by a roaring assault from Storunn and the banshee wail of psionics manifesting. The arachnid-shaped demon wielded its legs and fangs to dangerous effect, flinging Linnan out of the way as it focused its assault on Camran. It recognized a healer as a problem.
"You have forsaken your mistress!" the demon snarled at their petitioner guide, recognizing the creature for what it was.
"A temporary betrayal, something you should appreciate," the fiendish drow soul said with a grin. "We all while away the time somehow." The grin was wiped off a second later when a leg struck the petitioner, hitting the creature with a vampiric touch. The wounds on the yochlol seemed to heal as the demon inflicted fresh ones on the group's guide.
Storunn hacked through one of Drasira's legs with his axe only to find himself on the receiving end of a venomous bite that punched through his armor. Then the creature shifted back to its natural form, lashing out at Aly with a tentacle that knocked the wizard against the wall hard enough to crack ribs. The demon whipped all seven of its remaining limbs at its assailants with considerable effect, bludgeoning Aly again, as well as striking the petitioner, Storunn, and Linnan. It couldn't quite reach Camran, who had fallen back to heal the damaged wizard from behind.
Drasira was giving as good as it was getting, but the group had two healers between Alystin's tailored spells and Camran's divine magic who could bolster the group. The relentless psionic attacks from the fiendish drow soul were brutal as well. They forced the hissing and enraged yochlol back against the wall, giving Camran space to release and start to heal Nendir. The elf pushed past the cleric towards his gear despite the ache in his limbs, grabbing his bow and an arrow. He grit his teeth through the pain as he drew his bow and let an arrow fly. The projectile hit the yochlol right in its single, red eye. Drasira let out a shriek and lashed out wildly, flinging Linnan and even the normally steadfast Storunn backwards.
The demon surged blindly at the source of the arrow, crashing forward and bulling Camran out of the way as it sought out the elf. Alystin grabbed it, ice suddenly exploding across the gelatinous surface of the demon. "Nendir, watch out!" she called to the elf even though she was fairly certain that he was well aware of the rapidly approaching danger.
Drasira suddenly and abruptly changed directions, using its body to slam Alystin up against a wall and pin her, making it almost impossible for the wizard to cast. Tentacles entangled the struggling drowess, twisting her limbs and seeking to crush the life out of her. The demon again used its vampiric touch spell to drain strength from the mage and heal its own wounds. "You will die here," the yochlol hissed to its current victim.
Camran hit the demon with his staff, but couldn't draw its attention from Aly. She was saved instead by the piercing of Linnan's daggers into the yochlol's back and the cleave of Storunn's axe. The wizard gasped when Drasira dropped her, pulling desperately needed air into her bruised lungs.
It was Nendir's sword that finally put an end to the powerful yochlol. Beset on all sides and still blinded, the yochlol was not prepared for the blow coming out of nowhere. Nendir was weaker than usual by far, but his aim was still good enough to do lethal damage to the already fading demon. However, it was no easy victory. Alystin was battered nearly to pieces by the end, and Linnan didn't look much better. Their guide was just as wounded as the halfling, though the fiendish soul appeared largely immune to the pain of its wounds.
Drasira slumped to the ground with a hiss, melting into a vile puddle that let off a nauseating gas. Nendir stumbled back away from the corpse, gagging at the reek. "It's dead," he said once he'd regained himself.
Storunn hacked at the body a few more times, just to make certain. "Aye," he said once he was satisfied that it was properly dead. "Gods, but they don't go down easy."
"How's Aly?" Camran asked, approaching the fallen wizard and the battered halfling. The petitioner was currently bending over the barely conscious drowess.
"Hardly time for beauty sleep," their guide said, stirring the mage with a foot. "Get up, wizard."
Alystin struggled up to her feet, swaying and shaking from the effort. She held her side with one arm, the other hand using her staff to support and steady herself. "I'll sleep whenever I please," she snapped at the creature.
"Fiery," the fiendish drow soul said with amusement. "Good. You'll need the burn."
Their cleric of Sune reached out, healing the worst of Aly's injuries with a touch. She would still be bruised and battered, but it was the best he could do while maintaining enough spells to heal Nendir and Linnan as well. Storunn was sporting a few contusions and lacerations, but he seemed to be enduring the poison bite of the yochlol with relatively few ill effects. The dwarf was a little pale and queasy, but his strong constitution was in full showing.
"Goddess," Alystin hissed out when she felt her cracked ribs. She'd expended her few healing spells during the fight—for the most part, she'd prepared evocation spells like a proper battlemage. Not being able to rely on summoned creatures made things a little bit more dangerous, but she wasn't going to risk being turned on by a demon. Elementals were an option she should probably start considering, she knew. Not that knowing that would have helped, considering she hadn't thought to include summoning spells in her list.
"Try not parrying with your body," their guide advised the mage and the rogue with that same black humor. "I hear proper defense is all the rage in the rest of the plane."
Alystin and Linnan both glared, but they also bit their tongue…at least, for the moment. The wizard was holding off for a different reason than Linnan. That wounded throat, the psionic powers, the red cloth, being a creature kept on a leash in life, understanding obligations and vows…the mage had an inkling now of what creature she was dealing with.
"We need a way out, before more demons come," Nendir groaned as Camran finished the incantation for his healing spell.
"Aye," Storunn said by way of agreement. "Let's not be wastin' time now."
"This way," the petitioner said, nodding its head towards the far door. "I would advise taking what you can."
"Xullae, wait," Alystin said without a hint of fear.
The creature's head whipped around in automatic response, a remnant of its past life, and then its crimson eyes narrowed. "Don't push your luck, wizard," it said abruptly before starting towards the door.
Alystin knew then that she was right. She knew exactly who the creature had once been. It was a conversation to be had at another time, now that she knew enough to have it. The group limped onwards, grabbing potions and assorted gear as they went to be identified and divvied up later.