It was finally over. Wasn't it? Perhaps it was fair to have assumed so, even if it was done incorrectly- after all, for weeks on end, months even- the Five were all that mattered. All he had heard about from the Solar in his Pocket Plane, all he'd planned against, everything he'd sacrificed and done… all in pursuit of the Five. The last of the Bhaalspawn, his kindred. And now… they were gone. Illasera, Yaga-Shura, Sendai, Balthazar, Abazigal. Every one of them dead, leaving only himself and Imoen. It *had* to be over. If it weren't… that would mean only a few things, one of which he simply couldn't take.
Greywulf pushed himself off the ground, shaking his head once to remove the fog from his mind that always accompanied him whenever he was pulled between realms unexpectedly- though he'd gotten good at anticipating it in recent days. Usually at the death of one of the Five- and not a moment after Minsc had ended Abazigal, that familiar light had shone once more, whisking them through the planes of reality and back to… a room? Greywulf looked at the floor under his feet and frowned, finally taking into account the wooden paneling, the completely… unremarkable setting. No cavernous maw, no demonic aura. Just a simple room with two chairs. The rest of his companions were nowhere to be seen- that worried him more than anything- he'd seen Minsc's suicide play. He knew how close the big man was to his own personal end… and despite Imoen's efforts, could any of them really force him to another path?
Greywulf smoothed his robes, gripping his wind-enchanted quarterstaff and moved slowly, quietly to the center of the room. His mind was supposedly the epicenter of these tests- the Solar had told him that much. That was why they always seemed so familiar, why he always had some kind of instinct or clue as to their purpose or their nature. This… was alien. All of it. As much as he reached out within his own consciousness and taint to exert some kind of mastery over this place… something held it back. No… not something. Someone. There was a presence, a dark consciousness behind the fabrication of this piece of mundane curiousness. That there were no doors or exits to this place made his options quite clear- Greywulf spared a single thought for Imoen, Jaheira and the others… then exhaled and sat down in one of the two chairs.
"Ah… I thought you'd never take the hint."
The wry tone echoed through the room as a figure shimmered into view upon the other chair- Greywulf felt his head begin to hurt with the very presence of the figure- the power he radiated was intense… even more so than that of the Solar. It did not take him long to decipher what he was dealing with- there were few beings in the Realms whose power was so great that it could be physically felt by those around… and it was not exactly old news that the gods themselves had taken an interest in the dealings of the Bhaalspawn.
"Well now… let me have a look at you." The man smiled wider, though his grin was nothing if not unkind. Raven colored hair on his head was slicked back and the red and black vest he wore hung loose around his thin frame. The skull buckle on his belt seemed to glow with an inner light- if squinted at, it almost reminded Greywulf of the logo of Bhaal… no. Not Bhaal. Greywulf swallowed, bowing his head lightly with respect.
"Lord Cyric, I presume?"
Cyric chuckled, raising both hands on either sides of himself. "Guilty as charged. I see Bhaal did spread some of his seed intelligently then? And here I thought I'd have to appear as a giant floating head or some grisly avatar like the Slayer for you to pick up on my identity. That's still an option, should you prefer…?"
"Ah… no. No, thank you." Greywulf shook his head, trying to remain as polite as possible. Though he did not believe he was in any danger from the god before him- the amount of talk he'd heard about the gods not being permitted to interfere too much with his destiny gave him that assurance at least- there was still nothing good that could come of insulting a deity to his face. "Though since this is my own Plane, I feel I must ask… why are you here?"
Cyric appeared miffed, arching a pencil thin eyebrow upon his handsomely harsh features. "Do you mean to say that I should not be here? And where else would I be, oh offspring of my old foe? I would submit that a chat between you and I is long overdue. I even arranged for privacy…" the god snapped his fingers and afterimages of the other members of the party faded in and out of the room, ethereal, frozen in time.
"What the-" Greywulf's query was cut off by a wave of the hand as Cyric grinned wickedly. "Pay them no mind. I simply left them floating between Realms. Not here… but not there. Wherever there happens to be. The sooner we have our discussion, the sooner they can return."
So… this was how it was to be. Greywulf grit his teeth and nodded, knowing he had little choice in the matter. "Very well- I know who you are, Lord Cyric, god of strife, lies and illusion. You know who I am. What is it you want?"
Cyric's lip curled upward with disgust- he disappeared in a puff of black smoke that shot from one side of the room to the other, manifesting behind Greywulf as he stood, bent over and whispering into the half-elf's ear. "You forget… I am also the reigning god of Murder. A little fact that *everyone* seems to forget these days…"
The god stalked out from behind Greywulf and back toward the center of the room, waving away the chair he'd been seated on with a quick motion, setting it ablaze before it burned to ash in seconds. "You see, little man, I'd recently recovered from a little bout of madness...not that that's important to you... only to find the seedlings of the former holder of my office everywhere… like weeds." Cyric watched small figures of men and women rise from the ground as he spoke, pausing to pick one up and examine it for a brief moment… before crushing it in his hand with a glare at the sorcerer.
"Thankfully, there's only a bare few of the spawn left now. Like you and your sister. I've watched you two for some time now… and while I'm not quite convinced either of you've the temperament or desire for the office of murder... one can never be too sure. You can imagine my concern, hmm?" Cyric said with clasped fingers as he stood opposite Greywulf, still seated.
"You could have just asked." Greywulf offered, leaning forward for a moment. "I don't think either of us want the power. Given the opportunity-"
"And therein lies the rub, now doesn't it?" Cyric cut Greywulf off with a hiss, small death's heads in Cyric's black pupils flashing for a moment with his rage. "I know lies, little man. And I know the heart that beats in your breast and hers. Deep down, deep in the little center of lust that both of you try to hide, you want the power of Bhaal. You crave it, you *need* it, just like all of your kindred. And oh, how that part of you burns so brightly every time you say otherwise. Like a signal fire in the night, I can see it within you, desperate to be freed and be acknowledged. Do your companions know just how much you want the power for yourself? Could they even comprehend it, not being god-children themselves? Somehow I doubt it… the feeling of divinity, that siren's call is never forgotten. Look me in the eyes, Greywulf. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want the Throne for yourself. And don't lie to me; I'll know…"
Greywulf felt the anger of Cyric calm and he remained quiet- for all of the god's manic accusations and mood shifts, he had a point. There was a part of him somewhere… even if it was buried deep down, that would always lust after the Throne. Cyric had leaned over the top of him, was staring him down- Greywulf nodded, his voice a low whisper. "Yes. There is a part of me… always a part of me that wants the power. I will admit that. But if you're looking for your next rival, then look elsewhere. Imoen will tell you the same. What you're seeing within us, that call for blood- that's the taint within calling to itself. We've fought against that our entire lives. And so far we've won. That's the difference between us and the rest of the Bhaalspawn. That's why you don't have anything to fear from us."
Cyric moved back a moment, smiled broadly and wagged a finger at Greywulf. "Mmm… you assume so very much, don't you? So confident that you know your own depths of depravity, that you know your sister's most intimate desires and urges as well? Perhaps you do. And perhaps you're gravely mistaken. And perhaps it doesn't even matter what you want." Cyric shrugged, turning on his heel and walking away once more. "Taking the power, denying it… the essence of a god does not simply cease to exist. Whether you or Imoen want the power of Bhaal in the end may be meaningless. I sincerely doubt anyone truly knows what will happen come the end of this little saga. If only I were simply allowed to kill you and the others… it would make my life so much easier…"
A burst of light shone from the ceiling of their illusory room, causing Cyric to curse violently as he raised his hands to protect himself, he glared upward and snarled aloud, "Calm yourself, it was simply… a wish verbalized! Nothing more…"
As the light faded, Greywulf tried to hide his own smirk. "I assume there are other gods who didn't take kindly to your words?"
"Something like that." Cyric growled, running one hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall with a shake of the head. "It is as you have surmised- if I get too involved in the whole Bhaalspawn mess, then my own opponents amongst the gods would intervene. Mystra, Torm, even Kelemvor, perhaps. And it seems that Ao, the Overfather, has an interest in this as well... which is very odd. He wishes this little climactic end for the Bhaalspawn to play itself out without interference from the rest of us. The enforcement of that rule is left to Helm, who takes his duties quite seriously, as you saw."
"I suppose I should feel honored?" Greywulf questioned, finally moving to stand before the god, only partially unnerved that the chair burned itself away the moment he stood up. "I admit, I don't know what you want to hear from me, Lord Cyric. You've more knowledge in divine affairs than either Imoen or myself…"
"And what? You imagine that living as a deity grants me omniscience in the knowledge of other spheres? I should have become the new Overfather by now if that were the case." Cyric snorted. "To think that I, the great Cyric, am restricted to watching and observing this whole mess. And yet if there is anyone who should feel threatened by a child of the former Lord of Murder, it is *me*. There is just no justice anymore, despite what that self-righteous bore Torm says. I ask once again… how much should I fear you?"
"You have seen my actions on Faerun. You have seen Imoen's actions. Do you think one of us will ascend to the Throne? I could say anything and I imagine you'd make up your own mind." Greywulf challenged him in return, folding his arms.
Cyric sighed theatrically, throwing his arms up in the air with exasperation. "I see. I would have expected you to say as much. Who could have expected that this level of the Abyss, this 'throne of Bhaal' would give me such problems? Hmmm... I might've avoided many of these issues had I simply destroyed it to begin with."
Greywulf frowned, not wanting to set the volatile god off again, but curious nonetheless. "Why didn't you just take it over, then, when you became Lord of Murder?"
The god spun in place, eyes wide with what appeared to be indignance. "I didn't need it! I didn't want it! I have my own plane in Pandemonium, thank you very much...much better than anywhere in the Abyss. But obviously I should have paid more attention to this dismal place. But it's no matter. Can't undo what's already been done... and if you try, well, that leads to all sorts of different problems. And I'd rather not open *that* bag of worms once again. As for you..."
Cyric strode to Greywulf and smirked, letting his bony fingers rest at his side as the entire room seemed to darken, disappearing into a void that left only the two of them in a sea of darkness. "I doubt you will seek my realm of influence. If you even get that far, that is… you have a few more tests to pass, I think. But I have little desire to see yet another godling who might be a possible opponent... if you even have any power worth noting. I think you need to be tested. That *is* what you created these little rooms for, isn't it? To test yourself? Mystra and Ao couldn't fault me for aiding you towards that end, now, could they?"
"Here is my test, little godling." Cyric whispered in Greywulf's ear, stalking all around the sorcerer as he spoke. "You say you want to deny the Throne… if that much is true, then listen to my offer. When the time comes to take the power of Bhaal, do so. Give in to the lust you feel within yourself… and once you have established yourself as a divine power in the heavens, give your power to me. Acquiesce the station of Murder to me once more and I shall make you my most favored mortal. Wealth, power, women, every possible blessing I can offer a mortal will be yours if you simply step down from the Throne and offer it to me once you have claimed it."
"Is that… is that even possible?" Greywulf blinked in disbelief, shaking his head in uncertainty.
"Think on it." Cyric grinned wickedly before fading, even as the rest of the room, Greywulf's companions included, returned to view.
X
In the main chamber of the Pocket Plane, the normally green-tinted skies were set alight, a golden yellow infused within them by the presence of the Solar, floating just inches off the ground as she awaited the arrival of their company from the room where Cyric had met with Greywulf. She watched as the mortals ascended the stairway, still talking anxiously amongst themselves- there was much for them to consider, and much for her to speak of- the end days of the prophecy were upon them.
It did not take long for the nine mortals to notice the celestial being awaiting them- the Solar raised a hand and spoke, "The time is almost upon you- I know the challenge you have faced, the testing at the hands of the Black Sun. Take some time to renew yourselves, to speak of what was presented to you. Decide for yourselves how much to believe when faced with the god of lies and illusions. For lies to exist, there must be truth. And for every truth, there are infinite lies. Speak to me when you are ready to proceed to your final destination."
The godchildren, Imoen and Greywulf- they nodded and bowed to the Solar, turning back to the others as the group gathered, moving to confer amongst themselves, to regain their confidence, if she were to be truthful with them. They spoke in quiet tones, as though she could not hear every word they said. The Solar allowed her wings to relax, lowering her to the ground as the unholy magic that held this realm together peeled and burned with the touch of her armored boots to its surface. The Solar allowed her golden eyes to close, letting conscious thought fade as her presence spread throughout the whole of the Pocket Plane, listening to everything and everyone-
"I don't know whether or not Cyric was telling the truth- but it's an idea, isn't it? Not his promises, but the idea of giving up the power. At the very least we can consider-"
"And you think you can believe anything he says? The god of lies himself? The one who stands the most to lose from this whole affair? We cannot believe a word he spoke. There is nobody we can trust now except ourselves…"
The Solar smiled, listening to the arguments made by their fellows, their thoughts and fervent wishes in regards to the taint. The power of Bhaal was not something to be taken lightly… it could not simply be destroyed. Could it be locked away? Perhaps, thought it would always be in danger of a hungry god with designs on expanding his or her own power. These two… Imoen and Greywulf. Either of them would be worthy candidates for godhood… were they to choose such a path, the Solar intended upon staying with them for a time, acting as their advisor, should they want her aid in their new roles. Assuming they could hold onto their own morals and personalities as it meshed and became one with the divinity. Men like Sarevok would embrace the evil willingly… lesser men than Greywulf or Imoen would be corrupted by it. Ones such as them though… they might be able to channel the god-essence into something else. Not that it would be easy. The true nature of the taint would take eons to shift permanently. It would be ages before the mortal who dared try to change Bhaal's power to something more would be finished wrestling with it. And yet… the Solar believed that one of these two could do it. If any of the mortals who sought it could, it would be one of these two.
"Do not speak to me! It was not your decision to make! My purpose is gone, my witch..."
"You dishonor yourself, rivvil. The elf is dead, and you must find your strength or you have no place with us. Your sorrow will get us killed, and I have no intention of martyring myself to this cause."
"Enough! None of us can speak for Minsc…"
Attempts to spur the ranger beyond his self-imposed loathing were futile- the man's spirit was broken, irrevocably so. She could feel his will, faded and gone. No amount of prodding or encouragement would fix the ache in his heart. For him, there was only one thing left- a glorious death in battle. The Solar wondered if this man could be redeemed to a higher existence- it was not unheard of for those seeking a higher cause to be recruited as angelic warriors- not that she would be allowed such interference while the last of the Bhaalspawn conflicts remained.
"You aren't even one of us. I don't even know why you're still here! The Five are dead, you should be gone, am I wrong here?"
"As if you could force me to leave. I will not miss the culmination of my life's journey. Aside from that- I still have a tiny spark of the Bhaal essence within me, remember? It is small enough that I am no longer a contender for the Throne… but I shall see the finale of this story, one way or another."
"Ah, my raven… such interesting folks we find ourselves traveling with…"
The Deathbringer wasn't wrong… his spark was inconsequential, next to the others. Whether it was what was keeping him alive or if it was the piece of Imoen's soul, that was a question that not even the Solar could answer with absolute certainty. Still, it was not hidden from her that there were other, tiny pieces of the Bhaal essence that remained out in the world. Parts that could be considered… inconsequential as well. Not enough to stop the convergence here and now, but… enough. Enough that she would keep a vigilant eye on them.
"Well, it would appear that this... this is close to the end of our journey. I trust you, Greywulf. Remember that."
"I'm glad someone does. Seems like the gods want to hold my hand through it."
"I will too, if you like."
"Oh, aren't you sweet. Ok beautiful, you and me."
The quiet, whispered words between two lovers were a welcome sound- the Solar had considered the role that love played in denying the call of Murder to the Bhaalspawn. Those who had someone in their lives, someone to call on and lean on during the hardest times and the strongest calls of blood seemed to have been the most successful in walking a different path. There were exceptions, naturally. Sarevok had been unable to let his feelings for Tamoko pull him away from his perceived destiny. But Imoen's love for her brother and this group that she called family had provided an anchor point that kept her darker side suppressed. And Greywulf… Jaheira might not ever know how important her role had been in the passage of history.
"So… is this the end? The Five are dead, are they not? Have you finally reached the end of your journey? If so, it was an honor to see it through."
"I don't… I don't really know. I don't feel any different, but… maybe I'm not supposed to? Damn it all, there's only one way to figure it out. The Solar's right over there waiting for us… it's possible that once we talk with her, everything changes. Or maybe nothing changes, I don't know."
The worries, the anxiety that the Bhaalspawn felt were not unfamiliar to the Solar- despite the calm, the unending serenity that could be seen reflected across her azure-colored features, the Solar's fate was tied to the Bhaalspawn just as heavily as anyone's. It had not been… easy, for the gods to allow a celestial general to guide two specific Bhaalspawn to their destiny. Still, it was not a chance she had intended to miss. She had volunteered for this role, relished the task… to guide godlings into gods themselves, shapers of the realms to come? It would be an honor for her, a privilege.
Except… she could not serve a god of Murder. Her nature would not allow it- such a wicked creature would be repellant. Those evil gods like Shar and Cyric had agreed to her involvement on two conditions- one, that she would be as neutral as possible when showing Gorion's wards the destinies that lay before him. She could not push him toward the path of light, as much as she might've wished. The second… the second was the true test of her faith. Should the god-children truly abandon their current path and ascend to the role of Lord of Murder… she would follow. She would follow, a warped and fallen version of herself, devoted to the darkness as completely as she was devoted to the light now. And as the nine men and women approached her, the Solar felt her own heart beat just a touch faster, knowing that her destiny was approaching as well.
"I greet you once again- you are near the final stage of your journey. All will become most complicated very soon."
"Is it not over, then?" Greywulf asked, his head arched upward to meet the Solar's glowing golden eyes. "I had thought… after the Five were destroyed, we would be down to just myself and Imoen. Are there are other Bhaalspawn that have yet to be dealt with?"
"I do not think it is the Bhaalspawn we have to worry about- there is one actor in this play who has yet to reveal her role." Haer'Dalis shook his head, hands on his hips as he nodded to Sarevok, the Deathbringer's eyes narrowed.
"Melissan… she is our final obstacle, is she not?" he growled at the Solar. "Tell us, angel. Point us to our target and let this be finished."
"You are perceptive. And while you claim to know your enemy… you do not understand the true nature of the foe that you claim." The Solar considered, her halo glowing brighter for a brief moment before she returned her focus to Imoen and Greywulf. "You have fought against brother and sister in recent days... fought and prevailed as they arrayed their forces against you. Despite all of this, you have done well. The most powerful children of Bhaal gathered themselves together years ago- you know them as the Five. Together, they hoped their power would destroy all others of their kind. But what you do not know is why... what purpose your siblings have for their actions. You may suspect...but hear the truth from the lips of one you have murdered..."
The Solar raised her gleaming golden blade high, then thrust it hilt deep into the cracked and burned ground before them, letting steam and blue flame surge all around her as the holy magic bound spirits that had passed beyond, pulling a familiar, massive form from the ether as it slowly came into view, hazy and indistinct.
"Wh… why am I called?!" The dead fire giant, the spirit of Yaga-Shura stood before them all, his furious eyes darting back and forth as he surveyed his new surroundings. For their part, the rest of Greywulf's party immediately took up defensive postures, as though he would assault them as quickly in death as he would have done in life- it proved to be unnecessary as he tried to take a step forward, only for the Solar to raise a hand, sending the giant rebounding backward as though caged by her angelic powers. "Why is Yaga-Shura disturbed?!"
"You shall explain the truth of your actions, spirit, to the ones that killed you." The Solar commanded, gesturing with one hand to Greywulf and Imoen who watched warily, but unable to quell the curiosity that was filling their hearts.
"Hmph. If I was killed by that one, then I don't owe nobody nothing!" Yaga Shura boomed with a laugh, spitting in the direction of the party- the ethereal fluid landed at their feet, Greywulf glancing down at it for a brief moment before looking back at the fire giant, preparing to speak- but there was no need. The Solar had the giant's spirit under complete control- she squeezed a fist and the fire giant bent over at the waist, howling in pain as she tortured his soul with holy fire. "Your vanity and pride matter little in death. You *will* answer our questions about the Five."
The fire giant raised a hand in submission, grunting and exhaling heavily as the Solar finally relented, letting the slain Bhaalspawn gather his breath. He fixed Greywulf and Imoen with a hateful glare, but finally began to speak. ""So… you wish to know of the Five, eh? Hmph. If I must. It will change little, now. I was approached when I was still at the temple, still being taught the powers of Bhaal by the old witch of the woods. The greatest of all the Bhaalspawn were joining forces, I was told. We would defeat all others before us! Yaga-Shura didn't trust the others. Figured sooner or later the Bhaalspawn would turn on each other. Figured I was stronger than the rest of them, maybe. But not all of them together. So I joined. Raised an army of men and slaughtered all the Bhaalspawn we could, waiting for enough of the essence to collect in the Abyss..."
"For Bhaal, the dead god and your father, to be resurrected as he had planned before his death." The Solar continued, folding her arms and looking down at Greywulf and Imoen as though to gauge their reactions to this news- that it had not been ascension to the Throne that was the plan for the Five. Not their own rise as Lords of Murder. The rise of Bhaal himself. A god reborn…
"We would have been his right hands, all five of us. That's what we were promised. We would live as demigods, ruling Faerun with our power!" The shade laughed, grimacing as his short burst of humor faded. "At least, it would have been, had all of us been willing to make the sacrifices necessary. Damnable monk never had the stomach for it, I think. And the witch, that Melissan… do you know how completely she has played us all? I found out after death… you will too, Yaga-Shura thinks!"
The spirit of Yaga-Shura faded from view, his mocking laughter echoing quietly as the nine of them watched the Solar yank her sword from the ground, returning it to her sheath. "Sarevok? Is what they said possible? You know the prophecies better than any of us. Did any of them talk about Bhaal being reborn through his children's death? I thought the prophecies spoke of one of the Children taking the mantle of Lord of Murder…" Solaufein asked quietly, the rest of the group turning to stare at the Deathbringer, his own brow knit in confusion.
"I… it is possible, I admit. The prophecies spoke of Bhaal's progeny and the chaos that would be sown in their passage. They spoke of the power that the Children would wield… and the essence of the god that would be accumulated as the numbers of Children dwindled. I had always looked at it to mean that the last of the Children would be the inheritor of the Throne. But you have certainly not gathered all of the essence to yourself." Sarevok grimaced, looking at Greywulf and Imoen. "It has to have been gathered elsewhere…"
"The Throne of Bhaal itself, yes?" Anomen asked. "Lore of Bhaal's realm states that it is a physical place, deep within his own Realm of Pandemonium. Cyric said as much to you, did he not, Greywulf? The essence of the god must have returned there."
"And that is where we will find Melissan, yes?" Viconia smirked, hefting her mace with one hand. "This woman seeks to resurrect Bhaal… or perhaps she seeks the essence for herself? It matters little. No mortal has stood in our way so far- One more rivvil will make little difference."
"No… something still doesn't add up." Imoen glanced at Greywulf, trying to suppress a shiver. "We would have sensed it if Melissan was one of us. She isn't a Bhaalspawn. What could she even do if she were at the Throne? There's something we're missing… I don't like it. We need to find her… I can't help but feel like we're running out of time."
Greywulf smiled in spite of himself- "All the time we spent trying to run from this and now we're out of time… figures, doesn't it? All right then. Solar, can you tell us what the final leg of this journey is? Who Melissan actually is?"
The Solar clasped her hands, nodding quietly. She walked to the massive maw that comprised the entrance and exit of the Pocket Plane- the jaws opened wide and turned into a mirror, comprised of shimmering glass and radiant flame. With a gesture, the mirror lit with golden fire that eventually turned into a dark void- within it, the symbol of Bhaal began to form, droplets of red blood forming around the skull as it finally turned into a familiar face- Melissan. And yet… it was not the woman they had come to know. She wore a brass helm with razor feathers emblazoned on either side. A green glow filled the pupils of her eyes and her formerly pretty features were sharp and angular; obsidian pauldrons that protruded from her shoulders were just in view with a red cloak clasped upon them, draped behind her. "The dead god, Bhaal, has not been resurrected- your spirits, your senses will tell you that much. The dead god cannot be brought back to life without all of the remaining essence. And yet, the final gambit of this saga has begun- to understand what awaits you at the end of your journey, the one you know as Melissan must explain for herself."
The image in the mirror began to move- Greywulf stepped back as he heard the visage speak, her voice booming through the Pocket Plane, arrogance thick in her tone. "So… the time has come, has it? I knew this moment was at hand from the moment that Balthazar and Abazigal's essences returned to the Throne. I had rather hoped they would manage to kill one of you… but it does not matter. My ascension has come!"
"You are here at my sufferance to fulfill the final stages of the prophecies of Bhaal," the Solar said, frowning as though offended by the woman's tone. "You will answer our questions, not glory in your perceived power."
"Perceived? You lack perspective, angel." Melissan sneered, and without warning, a blast of green energy leapt from the portal and struck the Solar, sending the angel stumbling backward in surprise. "You have called a living goddess to you... had you opened a full portal to my essence, I would simply kill you all and be done with it."
"You… you are no goddess yet, mortal." The Solar managed, struggling to her feet as Anomen and Solaufein immediately rushed to the angel's side, as if their strength would suffice when her own would not. "The prophecy has *not* come to fruition."
"It will soon enough!" Melissan screeched, reaching out with another gauntleted, clawed hand- a second blast of green power leapt from the mirror, but the Solar was ready this time- she raised a hand and absorbed the radiant god-essence, dissipating it with what looked like an extreme effort. "Everything has happened as I wished it."
"If that's true, then you owe us an explanation." Greywulf stepped in front of the Solar, demanding the mad woman's attention. "You say you've won, that everything has gone according to plan? I'm still alive. Imoen is still alive. Unless your plan involved us keeping our parts of Bhaal's soul, then you haven't won yet. You haven't even faced us yet."
Melissan eyed Greywulf as though she were a cat eyeing a mouse- she smiled wickedly, clasping her fingers with a shake of the head. "Oh, Greywulf… you and your little ragged sister have no clue what you've done for me. Do you know how difficult it would have been to kill the Five on my own? That much Bhaal essence comprised in five dangerous, paranoid individuals? They could've succeeded on their own… bringing them together, I made sure I could control them. Could use them to prevent anyone else from claiming the Throne… like you, Sarevok."
"What?!" the Deathbringer stepped forward, surprise in his eyes as he listened Melissan speak. "Do not attempt to toy with me, woman."
"You think I did not monitor your rise to power in Baldur's Gate?" Melissan sneered. "I watched you climb the ranks of the Iron Throne- the thought of recruiting you as the first of the Five had crossed my mind, but it was rapidly clear that you would never submit to control or shared power. Your ascent was coming too soon, too quickly- I was preparing to stop you myself, and may have been too late… if not for Greywulf. Glorious, righteous Greywulf. You were my greatest ally, wiping the most powerful kin from the face of this planet quicker than any of the others. Did you even realize that every step you took, every kinsman you slew brought Bhaal one step closer to resurrection?"
"I have said it before, and I will say it again- you underestimate Greywulf, Imoen, all of us at your own folly." Jaheira declared, pointing at Melissan with no fear in her emerald eyes. "You chose to fight Greywulf and Imoen instead of the Five you recruited, the ones you knew intimately? A decision you will not live to regret."
"Do you truly think so?" Melissan laughed. "Every one of the Five presented a threat to me- the half-dragon and the drow both had armies potent enough to challenge me had I opposed them. Illasera was close to discovering my true purpose- given time, she would've informed the others of my plan. Yaga-Shura was invincible, until you brought him down. And that self-righteous Balthazar… does it pain you to know that his plan, his ritual suicide would have done exactly as he had hoped? That the magic he would have harnessed upon killing himself would have locked away the Throne from everyone, including myself? Believe me when I tell you I prayed for your victory every moment that you dueled with the foolish monk… only through your victory could my victory be assured."
"And what victory could you hope to achieve?" Sarevok laughed, folding his arms with disdain. "You are not one of the Children. The prophecies deal with the resurrection of Bhaal, either in his reborn form or as one of the spawn he laid. The rituals to bring the dead god back are… are…"
Sarevok stopped, and for the first time since he had been resurrected, Greywulf saw shock, realization fill the warrior's face. He understood. Melissan's laugh turned into nothing less than a cackle as dark magic shattered the mirror itself, allowing an ethereal image of Melissan to step into the Pocket Plane itself, towering over them all, even the Solar. Her breastplate was dark as ebony, hard as adamantine. The leg mail she wore shifted and moved with each step, as though alive like dragon scale. In one hand she held a brass spear that flickered with lightning and magic at the tip- it was over ten feet long and the entire ground shook as she slammed the shaft into the stone below her. "Do you finally understand?! My name is Amelyssan the Blackhearted, High Matriarch and greatest Deathstalker of my Lord Murder's Bhaalist temple. T'was I who led all the chants in His holy name! T'was I who harbored his avatar when the Lord of Murder was cast down to walk amongst us in the Time of Troubles!"
"She has come to us in spirit form… do not fear, but listen and learn." The Solar reminded the group, but her drawn sword said more to the group than any words the angel could offer- it was becoming rapidly clear just how powerful this priestess had truly become.
"Fear? I shall show you fear." Amelyssan growled, raising both of her armored hands as she summoned another spectre- beside her, overshadowed yet never underestimated was the form of the Slayer- it did not even acknowledge the group, instead turning to the priestess with what appeared to be… regard? Respect? Something foreign for the beast that had plagued Greywulf for so long.
"To my most trusted Deathstalker did I entrust the secrets of my resurrection." The Slayer rumbled, raising its claws to the cheek of Amelyssan, brushing them across her as she closed her eyes, remaining still despite the attentions of the monstrous form. "One of my priesthood needed to have access to the essence that would be collected from the Bhaalspawn... one of my priesthood would have to perform the necessary rites to give me back the essence I had dispersed. I, great Lord Bhaal, entrusted that duty to you. After my death, you alone retained access to the essence. And your power grew as each one of my mortal children died, their divinity returning to the source."
"It is true, great Lord Bhaal… and yet… you draw no closer to resurrection than when we started, yes? The time draws nigh and no rites have been performed…" Amelyssan laughed and swung her spear through the image of the Slayer, banishing it in a moment. "Remain dust, my foolish god."
"You betrayed him. Your Lord and Master… even to a god as wicked as Bhaal, I would not dare renege on a command I had agreed to." Anomen clutched his shield tightly to him, shaking his head as though unable to comprehend the magnitude of her treachery. "Should your plans fail and you find yourself answering to the Lord of Murder himself… I would not wish that manner of punishment upon any soul."
"Bhaal is dead, and can stay dead for all I care!" Amelyssan sneered at the squire, pointing her spear at the group. "It was I who loosed the god-spawn at each other's throats, all the while promising those fools in the Five that they would serve at Bhaal's right hand. Well they can... in Limbo! It was I who masqueraded as the protector of Bhaalspawn, herding the ones that the Five could not find to their doom. I led the last Bhaalspawn to Saradush and had them slaughtered!"
"You couldn't have known that I would be at Saradush." Greywulf shook his head, feeling rage rising up within him at the callousness, the sheer reveling in murder that characterized the full essence of Bhaal realized before him. "You say that everything has happened according to plan. You say that you've already won. That this is all your 'destiny'… but you haven't killed me. You haven't killed Imoen, or the rest of us. You got lucky that we showed up when we did. You got lucky that Balthazar didn't win against us. You got lucky I killed Sarevok before he could finish his plans. You've gotten by on luck for so long, you've mistaken it for skill. For planning. And I've been planning for this moment for days. Months. Years, since I discovered what I was. The moment when I could end this whole saga. That moment is now."
"Bold words. Is that all you have to offer?" Amelyssan faded back into the shattered portal leading from the Pocket Plane- it crystallized, but no longer a smooth mirror. It was a shattered, jagged image of the dark priestess behind it, staring mockingly at the party. "I have most of the essence of Bhaal under my control. I control the entire Abyssal realm that was once Bhaal's, all of the Throne of Blood. Do you dare come and face me there? Or shall I have to hunt you down like the sorry dog that you are?"
Greywulf glanced to his right, then his left. Minsc and Sarevok responded each- both rushed forward in a split second, jamming their enchanted swords into the crystal as though to strike the woman within- she laughed, finally fading from sight as the two warriors removed their weapons in frustration. "A battle here would solve nothing, god-child…" the Solar shook her head, gesturing for them to return to her. "Your course is set. Your pocket plane... when you are ready, you will need to end its existence, with you and your closest companions inside it. Then you will be within the Throne of Blood... and Melissan will be at hand. She is not yet done taking the essence of Bhaal's children. You have time… time enough to for one last test."
"A test? What kind of test could possibly be left?" Imoen shouted in shock, raising her hands in disgust. "We're finally here, we finally know what we have to do! She's the one we've been working towards ever since we left Candlekeep! We kill her and put this whole mess behind us. There's no reason for us to wait anymore!"
The Solar paused- either she was waiting for Imoen to pause, or simply uncaring to the thief-mage's protests. Regardless, as soon as the girl was done, she raised a hand and swept away all of the accoutrements of the Pocket Plane- all of the statues, everything but the rock beneath their feet vanished, even the staircases that had led to the rooms of Greywulf's psyche below. The Solar reached out to Imoen and Greywulf and rested one hand upon either of their chests- both of them gasped in unison as she pulled something… something critical from them. Something unfathomable. Both god-children dropped to their knees as the Solar struggled to hold the writhing, red masses in her hands, the manifestations of their taint. The solar forced them together with an extreme effort, then thrust it to the ground, a pool of red syrup that bubbled and frothed with a mind of its own.
"Greywulf? Was that…" Imoen began, clutching at her heart with wide eyes. "The essence of Bhaal, it's…"
"Not gone." Greywulf dragged Imoen's attention back to the Solar, pointing with increasing worry as the red pool of murder began rising, forming a shape that was all too familiar. And yet… it was more than that. The Slayer was familiar, recognizable by now. This creature was even more savage than that- it stood taller, nearly thirty feet tall from hoof to head, a long tail covered in two rows of spines that dripped with poison whipping back and forth behind it. It possessed two mouths, one above the other, both of them edged in blood-red razors. Seven eyes dotted the forehead of this beast alongside two massive horns. Instead of the four arms of the Slayer, this beast only had two, each fist comprised of giant bones that creaked and flexed with every movement. Each arm was flanked by long tendrils that whipped back and forth like tentacles extending from the creature's back. Its skin was hardened scale like that of a dragon- and yet, somehow Greywulf could not imagine a dragon defeating this creature in battle. It was death itself. It was the final form of Bhaal, his utmost savageness and bloodlust taken flesh.
"From your first days adventuring, you have faced every enemy before you and emerged victorious." The Solar intoned, her wings beginning to flap as she rose into the sky, beginning to ascend into the green skies above them as thunderclouds gathered all around. "You have used whatever you could to wrench victory from the jaws of defeat. Allies, artifacts, weapons of old and spells beyond belief. You have mastered all of these and more… now, show that you have what it takes to claim the Throne of Bhaal from Amelyssan. Show that you have mastered the essence of Murder."
As the Solar disappeared from sight, the avatar of blood stepped forward, roaring a challenge. "I am what lies within you. I am the ultimate expression of your power, godlings. I am the last of the barricades you have erected between yourself and destiny. Defeat me and this plane is no more...there will only be the Throne of Bhaal. But you will not defeat me. For I am the Ravager."
X
Deep in the bowels of Watcher's Keep, in the darkest depths of the tower of Helm, a pinhole left by the exit of a god-child into a plane of existence shone brighter and brighter as two tentacles struggled with the opening, forcing it open bit by bit, tasting freedom with every moment. The Demogorgon was still the Imprisoned One, still held captive by the God of Neutrality… but that would change soon enough. The avenue of escape that had not been closed was still there… but even as the Prince of Demons listened to the Solar speak, looked at the sight of the Ravager being born within- the tentacles piercing the veil between planes withdrew, swirling back and forth as the twin baboon heads of the demon glancing to one another, calculating, planning.
If the Pocket Plane of the god-children was nearing destruction, then so was his avenue for escape. And yet… even he respected the sight of the avatar of Murder before him. It was a being of god-like power… his own powers would be diminished with the final efforts needed to break the barriers that kept him here. As the battle commenced, the Demogorgon simply paused and watched, licking its lips as it bore witness to the duel of essences. He had not been this close to escape for millennia- he could wait a few moments longer.
X
Fear, Melissan had said. She would show them fear. Had this been what she meant? The full essence of Bhaal unleashed, with no hesitation or restriction? This was what death looked like… there was no question of it. Greywulf's heart, his mind was numb as he threw himself backwards, just narrowly avoiding the slam of one of the Ravager's fists… a fate that Minsc had not been able to avoid. The remains of the big ranger were lying in a pool of blood and gristle after the Ravager had drilled his charging form into the ground with a single blow- a better fate, a quicker death perhaps, than the one that had been afforded to Anomen. A tentacle had wrapped itself around the squire, choking the spells and incantations from his throat as he'd tried to struggle, to aid his allies- even as Solaufein had attempted to cut the tentacle from the Ravager's back, his blade had done nothing, simply rebounded from the hard scale and left Anomen to choke, then ultimately break under the sheer power of the murder beast.
Greywulf swallowed, feeling ash and copper in his throat as he summoned another spell- a Horrid Wilting materialized in his hands and he hurled it as hard as he could, letting it ignite on the Ravager's head- it stomped out of the brown magical cloud, eyes peering down at him with rage as though nothing had happened. Imoen stood beside him, loosing an arrow of lightning that struck one of the Ravager's eyes- her aim was as true as ever, Solaufein watching the missile strike and leaping forward to attack while it was recoiling. Had it been a cyclops or a hill giant, it may have blinded the creature, given them the opportunity to turn the tide of battle. As it was, the arrow simply clattered to the ground- and it was too late to call the drow warrior off. Solaufein's charge was met with a striking tendril, one of which was dodged, then a swinging fist that was rolled away from. As Solaufein came up from the roll, another tendril pierced his spine, sending blood spurting from the drow's chest and mouth as he dropped his sword in shock. The tendril raised Solaufein up, then flung his corpse across the room with a clatter of metal and flesh on rock.
"Damn you!" Imoen screamed as she dropped her bow and began to summon the most destructive magics she could conjure- Greywulf tried to warn her off, tried to shout a warning that the beast had been immune to everything he'd tried. She refused to stop, continuing to chant and channel the power through her hands- Greywulf cursed and joined her, praying that perhaps this was the key. The beast was a combination of both of their taints- it only made sense that it would take the two of them together to bring it down. Lightning leapt from Greywulf's fingertips and wrapped itself around the Disintegration magic that Imoen was channeling- the twin streams of destruction struck the Ravager square in the face, and despite everything they'd seen… it actually stepped back. It staggered away for a moment, raising a hand in fury- the sight was enough to spur them onward, to keep up the power as those companions that remained renewed their assault, buoyed by the thought that they had finally hurt it. Greywulf refused to stop, feeling sweat pour from his brow as he heard Jaheira's battle cries and the echoes of Viconia's incantations, listened to Haer'Dalis' blades ricochet off the scales of the Ravager, seeking purchase and entry. He glanced at Imoen, trying to smile, trying to give her hope that they could conquer this taint together-
A scream chilled his blood and Greywulf's head whirled back, his mind going numb as he watched Jaheira in one of the Ravager's hands, grabbed in the blink of an eye and held tight as the great beast lifted her up, now ignoring the beams of magic that assaulted him. Greywulf exerted every ounce of will into his magic, refusing to quit, refusing to let the taint within him claim one more life… the sound of bones crunching echoed through the cavern and the Ravager hurled Jaheira's corpse at Viconia, sending the drow diving for cover as the druid's mangled body skidded to a halt, her eyes wide and unblinking in death.
The world seemed to grow cold, distant as Greywulf felt his magics fail- Imoen's shouts were like a distant echo as he looked down at the bodies of those all around him. Viconia was next- her move to save herself from the hurtling missile of Jaheira's body gave the Ravager an easy opening. With no regard for Imoen's spells or Haer'Dalis' attacks, the drow woman had no avenue for escape when a massive cloven foot left her body in a mess aside Minsc's remains. A shout caught his attention for a brief moment- Sarevok came hurtling in from nowhere, tossed aside in his initial assault, but not dead yet. His leap took him to one of the tendrils which he used to propel himself up further, climbing the Ravager's back and dodging the writhing tendrils to finally perch atop the creature's shoulders. The Deathbringer let the fury take him- he swung like a whirlwind, blows landing faster and faster such that the creature fell to his knees. Was there anything that could stand before Sarevok's fury? It was possible that he could conquer what the others could not- no. Greywulf saw it coming, and could not muster the will to shout a warning. Three tendrils sought him from behind, each one piercing the warrior and digging through his body, pulling him off as the warrior's shouts became screams- all three tentacles ripped out of him, tearing the man's body to pieces.
Haer'Dalis backed away from the beast as it pushed itself to his feet again, the bard glancing at Greywulf and Imoen with a grin. "Strange… I would welcome oblivion, but I had thought our journeys were not yet completed. Still, I cannot imagine that this one sparrow's strikes shall accomplish what the rest of our esteemed group could not. My raven, my wildflower… it is up to you, methinks."
"It's… it's not possible." Imoen whispered, tears streaming from her face as she shook her head, broken by the sight of the dead before her, the Ravager roaring in triumph as it regained its footing completely. "The taint… it can't be killed."
"Perhaps. Or perhaps killing it is not the point, hmm? The story is everything." Haer'Dalis said with a wink, flipping the grip he held on Chaos and Entropy, flipping one lock of hair behind him as he settled to a low stance, fixing his eyes on the Ravager. "Remember what the Solar said. You must master the taint, not kill it. I hope for your sake that the two of you can discover what it all means. You have… oh… I'd say fifteen seconds. I imagine I can last that long. Come then, demon! Let Haer'Dalis have another round at you!"
"Haer'Dalis!" Greywulf shouted, watching as the bard darted at the Ravager, dodging left and right, ungodly agility keeping him alive as the fists and tendrils of the demon narrowly missed time after time. "You can't-!"
"Of course not!" Haer'Dalis bellowed, slashing at the Ravager's leg before spinning and using his twin blades to parry an incoming tendril, shunting it aside. "Oh, but the stories they'll tell of this fight! Do not be afraid to embellish, my raven! Do your sparrow justice!"
The Ravager sent another tendril at Haer'Dalis, rumbling in annoyance as the bard spun around it, then another that was pinned to the ground by one of Haer'Dalis' swords, his arm trembling in exhaustion as he attempted to keep it from striking. A third tendril came for the bard- Haer'Dalis moved his sword in a blur, knocking the striking tendril back and forth keeping it at bay for what seemed like an eternity- the leg of the Ravager kicked out and sent the tiefling tumbling across the ground, skidding to a halt as both Chaos and Entropy flew from his grasp. The bard turned over, looking up at the crimson eyes of the Ravager- he grinned and opened his arms out wide as the hoof rose to come down upon him. "Heh… twenty seconds. Better than I thought I'd do…"
Even as the Ravager left Haer'Dalis' corpse in the dirt and rock, Imoen swallowed the vomit threatening to rise in her throat, turning to Greywulf, grabbing him by the shoulders desperately. "We have to… I don't know! Tell me you have a plan?! You always have a plan, please! This… this *can't* all be for nothing! We won't let it!"
"No… no, it can't." Greywulf closed his eyes, taking Imoen's hands in his own. "He was right… about what the Solar had said. It's not about killing the Ravager. It's about mastering our command of the taint. It's about taking control… just as we may need to if one of us assumes the Throne. We've been fighting the essence of Bhaal since we learned about it… but fighting it isn't the answer, not now."
Greywulf spun and turned to the Ravager as it bore down upon them, raising an arm to crush him- he mirrored it, raising a hand in defiance- and the downward blow stopped, halted midmotion. The other arm moved to strike, tendrils whipping out from the creature's back in place of its frozen limb- Imoen clenched her hands at her sides, focusing every ounce of her will into driving the creature back, into holding it at bay- and it was working. The Ravager howled and howled, trying desperately to move, but to no avail. Was it over? Had they won at last?
Seconds passed… then minutes. No sign of the Solar returning to end the conflict. No sign of the Ravager relenting and submitting to the two Bhaalspawn before it. Greywulf watched as drops of sweat poured from his forehead down his face and to the ground, pooling below him. It… it wasn't working. They'd stopped him, but only for the moment, after the loss of everyone he and Imoen held dear. They couldn't keep this up forever- Greywulf felt blood begin to trickle from his nose- Imoen's face was contorted with the effort of keeping her demons at bay- veins pulsed in her forehead and she seemed on the verge of screaming as she tried to fight it… but it wasn't enough. Greywulf felt his control splinter, his whole spirit break apart as the effort he'd been maintaining shattered and the Ravager threw itself free while both Bhaalspawn collapsed, utterly spent and defeated.
"Greywulf…" Imoen whispered as she looked at her brother, lying across from him, their fingers slowly, desperately reaching out to entwine, understanding what they'd lost. "I love you…"
"I love you too, Im…" Greywulf smiled weakly through tears as he felt the hands of the Ravager pick him and Imoen up in either limb, raising them to eye level, ready to crush them as easily as they had done to Jaheira. Greywulf would have struggled, would have fought if he'd had the strength, but it was gone. And what was the point? Fighting was meaningless… the taint was too…
No. Greywulf felt realization hit him as the bone fists surrounding him began to tighten- he understood. It wasn't about fighting the taint. It was about control. Even what they'd been doing moments ago, it was still fighting the taint, just on a level they were capable of matching the beast for a few moments. There was only one place they could control the essence of Bhaal. Only one thing that could keep it in check. Greywulf felt his hands on the constricting bones of the Ravager- he willed the beast into himself, willingly accepted the taint back inside him, into his soul. The beast screamed and began struggling, letting both of the Bhaalspawn free, both Imoen and Greywulf hitting the ground with a thud, Imoen glancing at Greywulf in disbelief. "What did you do to it?"
"It's not about fighting. It never was." Greywulf coughed, stumbling to his feet and stalking toward the rapidly recoiling Ravager. "This thing is the embodiment of Bhaal's essence… our portion of it. We can't kill it. But we can contain it, as we always have."
Imoen listened… the import of what he was saying wasn't lost on her. How long had she wished desperately to be free of the taint that strangled their souls? And now, free of it for the first time since they'd been born… the only thing they could do to make the deaths of their friends worth a damn was to accept that blight back inside of her. At another time she might've hesitated- thoughts of Aerie, Jaheira, Minsc… all of them gave her strength. She strode forward with Greywulf, brother and sister. Their hands rested on the Ravager and golden light began shining all around them both- the creature began shrinking, misting into red smoke, flowing back into both of them as all traces of the Ravager vanished.
"You understand. Well done, god-children. Well done."
The Solar descended from the heavens as the Pocket Plane shimmered, revealing the demonic statues and small amenities that Cespenar had summoned for them, still scattered around here and there. "You have understood what must be embraced by all Bhaalspawn- that to control the Throne of Bhaal requires you to embrace the taint, not fight it. To control it… that is what you have done here today. You have shown your own willingness to sacrifice everything… your friends, you desire to be rid of the taint… everything you hold dear to find victory. Where your destinies lead, you must both be willing to make that same sacrifice again if need be. Godhood cannot be claimed lightly… what will you be willing to sacrifice to see this all through?"
"We have nothing else!" Imoen shouted bitterly, gesturing at the corpses of their companions. "We are *all* that we have left! What ELSE?!"
"Each other, perhaps? That is a possibility." The Solar replied quietly, undeterred by Imoen's anguish. "The time for ascension is almost at hand. But your tests, the hardening and forging of your spirits to ready yourselves for this moment… it was meant for you, not your loved ones. Not for your companions- had you died in battle against the Ravager, your parts in this story would be over. But those who follow you… their time has not yet come. I return them to you now… may they find a better end than the one they found here."
A mass resurrection spell flowed from the Solar's hands- her halo flashed a bright white and the two Bhaalspawn could do nothing but wipe the tears from their eyes as every one of their slain friends and loved ones were restored before them, bones knitting and flesh reforming- Greywulf smiled in spite of himself as he watched Imoen leap at Jaheira, embracing the druid with relief. He extended a hand to Haer'Dalis, nodding with appreciation. "You were right. Thank you."
"No, thank *you*, my raven." Haer'Dalis laughed, patting himself down to make sure he was as whole as he felt. "Whilst touching the face of Oblivion is my life's dream, the transition is… unpleasant. I sincerely hope we will not be enduring that again anytime soon?"
Greywulf laughed, then turned to the Solar, preparing to say thanks- a sound like that of a sword piercing meat echoed through the cavernous plane as the Solar stiffened, looking down at a scaled, blue-green tentacle piercing through her stomach and out the front of her silver armor. Golden ichor and blood dripped from the wound, and the Solar managed a scream as she was flung away from the group, revealing a wide tear in the fabric of reality- out of which the Prince of Demons was pulling himself through, both heads gnashing their teeth and hissing in triumph. Unspoken words echoed like thunder in their minds, each word so dark and potent as the creature's very communication tried to pound their minds into submission. "You knew me previously as the Imprisoned One, mortals. Know me now by my best name. You face the Demogorgon, Prince of Demons. Die."
There would be no time for tearful reunions, no time to celebrate the life restored to them. Greywulf swallowed as the party immediately entered a defensive frustration- no orders necessary. They all knew their places, their roles in a battle like this. Not that it had helped much against the Ravager- they'd fought just as hard, just as tactically against the avatar of Bhaal and it had brought them nothing but failure. Would that memory of death so recently mar their edge, their confidence?
A bellow from Anomen answered his question- "You were the one who escaped our wrath last time, demon. You should have remained in your cell- there will be no safety for you here!"
A chorus of challenges followed- Greywulf closed his eyes for a brief second and smiled- how blessed was he to have found such a family in times like these? How had he been so lucky? He didn't deserve it… and if they could conquer this last, impossible challenge, their only reward would be fighting Bhaal reborn within Amelyssan. No rest for the weary. Greywulf lowered his quarterstaff and began his incantations as the Demogorgon pulled himself fully through the portal leading from Watcher's Keep, lunging for the group- the Solar flew into view with ivory feathers fluttering in her wake, holding her stomach with one hand as she swung her massive flaming sword with the other, slicing one of Demogorgon's questing tentacles clean off in a single blow. The demon screeched as the Solar came to a landing in front of the party, breathing heavily as the wound in her body began closing, slowly but surely. "I am a Solar, an archangel of the Heavens! You shall not slay me so quickly, Prince of Darkness! And you will not delay the destiny of the Bhaalspawn! God-children! Away with you, banish this realm from your consciousness and depart for the Throne of Bhaal!"
"What'll happen to you?!" Greywulf shouted back, loosing a flurry of flame arrows that landed in Demogorgon's hide while the Solar flung herself forward with her wings, ensnared in mid-air by the Demogorgon's tentacles. She did not respond, only grunting as she swung her blade in a wide arc to try and free herself as one of the heads of the demon bit down on the Solar's shoulders, drawing fresh golden blood from the wound. "We won't let you fight this thing alone-"
"Shiny angel not alone, master! Cespenar be good servant, oh yes!" the fluttering imp butler shimmered into view, his glittering black eyes narrowed in determination as he watched the angel and the demon do battle. "Cespenar told you long ago- the statues of this place are the guardians, yes! Cespenar is the butler- Cespenar controls them all! And they will fight, oh yes! Fights the nasty Prince of Darkness!"
Greywulf watched in amazement as the assortment of demonic figures and carvings all along the pillars that lined the Pocket Plane tore themselves from their bases, leaping toward the Demogorgon and pulling the wounded Solar from its grasp. Statue after statue was shattered to pieces with swings of the Demogorgon's tentacles, but they accomplished their goals through brute strength and sheer numbers. The Solar found herself freed for the moment- she raised her blade tall, rejuvenating the holy power within and impaled the Demogorgon with it entirely. The beast screamed a cry that nearly killed them all with its intensity- Imoen jammed her hands over her ears and bit down on her lip to try and deaden the pain. As the tone faded, she looked up to see Cespenar curled up on the ground, rolling back and forth with blood drizzling from his ears and nose, trying to crawl to his feet again- he screeched a cry as the Demogorgon fixed his eyes on Cespenar, the gaze of the left head refusing to move as the statues of the Pocket Plane slowed their assault. The Solar saw what was happening and responded, soaring high into the air before divebombing the Demogorgon, slamming feet-first atop the beast, driving the demon into the ground as she hacked and hewed with her blade, desperately trying to kill the beast faster than his blue-green scales were regenerating.
"Cespenar!" Imoen shouted, dashing to the collapsing imp as Anomen and Viconia hurriedly cast their own spells and protections upon the Solar, hasting her actions and sending elementals of air and fire to join the fray, trying to keep the demon prince from completely overpowering his foe as it pushed the Solar off, climbing to his feet with a snarl. "Are you okay?"
"No…. no, Cespenar not okay…" the imp whimpered, holding his head as he fluttered back and forth, looking up at Greywulf and Imoen with tears in his eyes. "Master… you must go! Demogorgon will controls me eventually- Prince of Demons has dominion over all demons, includes me, master! Will control me with his gaze, and then all of the statueses will follow him! No time to argue, master, you must hurry!"
"You and the Solar are still here, if we destroy this place to travel to the Throne…" Greywulf interrupted, before Sarevok grabbed his arm with a snarl.
"There is no time! We must begone from here! The Demogorgon's ability to ensnare wills is not limited to demons. He will control your pet here, then one of us, and you will feel the pain of losing someone once again. Make your decision!"
Greywulf looked up once more at the unholy battle in the distance- the Solar's wings flapped madly as she zipped through the air, trying to avoid the writhing tentacles of the Prince, her sword cutting limbs as quickly as the old ones regenerated- as she flew, she shouted holy incantations and summoned a storm of vengeance into view, drenching the combatants in hail, lightning and acid. For a moment, it looked like the magic storm was doing its job; the Demogorgon struggled and staggered in the midst of so much energy… and yet, it would not fall.
Even as blocks of burning hail rained down upon the Demogorgon, trying to batter him into submission, the creature screeched a command into the void- in the midst of the shrieking, swinging forms in the storm, unholy magic swirled and several abyssal gates opened within the Pocket Plane, spawning dozens of pit fiends, glabrezu and balors- the statues diverted their assault of Demogorgon, moving to intercept the demon army, leaving the Solar to duel the Demogorgon alone within the maelstrom. As the great demon jammed its claws into the Solar's side, lifting her off her feet and using her as a shield against the storm above, the archangel intoned a Holy Word and thrust her palm down upon one of the heads of the Demogorgon. White magic flared up and exploded with the touch, sending the Prince tumbling backwards and the storm of vengeance dissipating. She paused for another moment, channeling another holy spell- a blade barrier settled around the Solar and she planted her feet, only breaking from her focus to turn and shout a single command. "Go!"
There was no time for anything else- the Demogorgon was upon her yet again, burned flesh and blood spewing from the injured head as the demon threw itself at the Solar in a mass of whirling claws and tentacles, still showing no sign of slowing.
Greywulf swore, nodding to the others. He turned to Cespenar, the little imp butler directing the guardians of the Plane toward fighting the hordes of demons that were pushing their way toward the group, slowly but surely. Other demons were joining their master in battle, taking bites and clawing chunks out of the Solar's armor and flesh as they pushed through the razors surrounding her, chewing up the protections of her magic as the Demogorgon tried to ensnare her yet again. "Damn it! Okay… okay. We're gone. Cespenar… I'm sorry."
"It be okay. It an honor to serve the new master." Cespenar smiled sadly, his wings ceasing their fluttering as he landed on the ground, bowing one last time as Greywulf stepped away from the imp, closing his eyes and releasing his hold upon the residency, banishing it from reality. The imp's final words barely reached Greywulf's ears as everything began turning white. "...did Cespenar do good?"
"Yeah… you did good, Cespenar. You did real good…" Imoen whispered sadly as the Pocket Plane and its combatants fell into oblivion, the sounds of tentacles slicing flesh, wings beating the air, and an imp's last cries echoing after them into nothingness.