Chosen of Eilistraee

by Anja Kidd

Far beneath the doomed city of Waterdeep, Eilistraee's unlucky Chosen (and his minions) find themselves set on a collision course with destiny. Rated M for language, sexual content, drow humor, and violence. This story is cross-posted on AO3 and WP. COMPLETE.

14. Hell

Much credit and love to Trisa_Slyne for helping me out with this story.

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NATHYRRA

The massive, spiky temple that had been built around the sleeping body of the fabled Sleeping Man jutted out of the snow and loomed menacingly before them in a manner that Nathyrra felt it didn't deserve. A wary githzerai pilgrim outside the temple gave them annoyed looks as they entered, and Nathyrra was suddenly struck by how tame and muted the inside was compared to the downright demonic outside decor. Walking into it, one could forget they were in Baator. Conversely, Nathyrra noted out of the corner of her eye that Valen's hand flashed toward his flail's grip and his swagger deepened, as he immediately went on high alert. He had explained his guarded nature to her once, which is when she put it together that it wasn't that places put him ill at ease, but doorways themselves. 'Never wander into an empty doorway,' was the advice he'd given her, as if he were advising her on matters of life and death. This was, apparently, quite a problem in Sigil, and Valen had carried this caution throughout his life. Nathyrra felt only amusement at his caution, however, when they went inside.

Inside the temple, Nathyrra felt a bit more at home. It was warm, and she was able to shake the snow off her form and pull her hood down comfortably. Lush carpets lined a tile floor, leading to a wooden podium centered in a massive room, with a tome opened up in front of it. Bookshelves lined every wall with books in every language imaginable, and an excited part of Nathyrra wanted to stay inside for a few hours - where it was at least warm - and peruse to her hearts' content. She glanced over at Solaufein curiously to see his reaction - it was one of utter distaste for the library that they had found themselves in - and she chuckled a bit at his expense, knowing his challenges with reading.

"Vel'bol nempori ap'za skrel natha zmenkh wun ghil?" Solaufein grumbled to her in Ilythiiri.

"Ol zhah ulu zah'har dos," Nathyrra replied swiftly. He glared at her, and she couldn't help but smirk at his suffering.

"Ugh, elgg uns'aa," he begged, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Ussta keeshe zhah zik'zil rin'ov," she offered, still smirking. The female dhaerow innately took pleasure in the sufferings of males - and Solaufein was always an interesting study of action and reaction. Nathyrra found she enjoyed the easy, quiet, and perhaps even dark humor that had developed between them as a condition of their circumstances. It felt familiar, and that was welcome in their presently unfamiliar circumstance.

"What be this book?" Deekin wondered, approaching the massive, opened tome and fingering the pages with his little claws. Nathyrra circled around and examined the page it was opened to, half of which was inscribed with scrawling, neat cursive hand-writing in Common. She speed-read through it over Deekin's little shoulder quickly and ascertained its contents.

"This is a dream journal," she summarized. "It seems this Sensei woman is somehow monitoring the Sleeping Man's dreams and is trying to interpret them. She notes he was searching for something in the wastes of Cania—"

"Excuse me," a polite voice interrupted from over Nathyrra's shoulder. She stepped away from the tome and her hand flew to her sword, as did everyone else's - except for Deekin, who simply blinked in place and stared.

She turned to face a tall, gray-skinned, almost lizard-like githzerai woman, whose eyes the color of brilliant ochre bored into Nathyrra's own searchingly. Her thin lips wavered but a moment as she cleared her throat gently. This could be none other than the Sensei Swift and Aribeth had mentioned, and she could believe that the woman had given Arden quite a beating. This githzerai positively rippled with muscles beneath her brown robes, apparently designed more for functionality than comfort. Her demeanor seemed monkish - perhaps they had interrupted her meditation with their entry - and now she looked at Nathyrra and Deekin demandingly.

Nathyrra made a noise of understanding and stepped away from the tome. The Sensei took her place in front of the podium and cleared her throat officiously once more.

"Greetings, pilgrims," Sensei Dharvana offered, "and be welcome."

Aribeth stepped forward and said, "May I introduce Sensei Dharvana to you all," she explained. "As for introductions, you'll find them unnecessary because—"

"Hail, Solaufein," the githzerai greeted the male with a slight bow of her head. "Like all who come to Cania, I knew you would eventually come here to lay your troubles at the Sleeping Man's feet. Welcome back, Aribeth," she addressed this to the lost soul, who seemed startled and annoyed by the sudden attention. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"You have misconstrued the nature of our—xa, that is . . . Precisely why we are here," Solaufein said, and upon seeing Nathyrra's hands rapidly signing denials at him in the silent finger-language from behind the Sensei's head, he decided to drop the matter. Nathyrra knew that the Sensei would not take kindly to their informal plan of waking up the Sleeping Man to interrogate him about Mephistopheles and the Reaper.

"See what I mean?" Aribeth piped up a little petulantly. "And I suppose I did, in a manner of speaking," she added to the Sensei, answering her question. "It's better than the alternative, at any rate," she added quietly, upon reflection, which made Binne snort.

"Better than doing and becoming nothing in a bloody cave you mean," Binne translated.

"Right," Aribeth agreed contemplatively.

"Names are written plain upon the surface of our minds, easy enough to decipher, like wrinkles upon a brow," Sensei Dharvana intoned. "The only true mystery lies with the True Name, written in secret upon our hearts."

"Eh? You're reading our wrinkles?" Binne chimed in, confused, and touched her forehead self-consciously. Valen had to snort back a laugh.

"You know our names from our minds?" Nathyrra presumed and guarded her thoughts carefully as she had once been instructed to do by the priestesses of Lloth. She then felt foolish for a moment when she remembered she still possessed the emerald circlet that protected her thoughts, though it was in Deekin's bag of holding, and of assistance to no one in the moment. She inched closer to the bard protectively.

"Worry not, Nathyrra," the Sensei intoned somewhat ominously, which didn't help Nathyrra not to worry. "I am no mind-reader so skilled as to pry thoughts from the unwary. My insight allows me to see the dreams of the Sleeping Man, which I interpret for pilgrims who wish to see him and follow his path to insight."

Nathyrra had expected very little of Hell and was consistently surprised. A functioning Inn? A new religion? Binne, the heir of Cania? The world's loudest, most disruptive trumpet? A lost paladin? When Solaufein called her across the planes, away from Eilistraee's sweet and soothing presence, she hadn't expected much. When she had died, her transition had not been painful. Her memories of it were steadily fleeting, but certain things about the state of being she knew she could never forget. She, also, had long ago trained her expectations to be low, and to mentally prepare for any eventuality. It was what made her such a successful assassin.

"Well I don't know what things are like on gith-world," Binne shot in brusquely, "but in most civilized places it's a bit rude to read someone's mind before you get to know them. I'm Binne, that's Valen, and the little one is Deekin."

Deekin cleared his throat. "Hi gith-lady!"

"I know who you are, Heiress," the Sensei replied, sparing the kobold a glance but nothing more. Deekin seemed very disappointed.

Binne's responding glare was vehement, and glowing. "Call me that again," she growled out. This was punctuated by the large hellhound at her side emitting a low snarl.

Nathyrra felt the need to step in before the situation grew predictably violent, as it always seemed to whenever she was not there do so. "What do you know of True Names?" she cut in, changing the subject.

The Sensei's expression lit up, like this was a subject she was quite excited about. "To know one's True Name is to know oneself," she said, perhaps unnecessarily cryptically, as if she were reciting this spiel from memory. "To find one is to find the other. As to the how, perhaps that is an answer the Sleeping Man may grant you."

"How? He's bloody sleeping," Binne grumbled, and patted Boon on the head until the three-legged hellhound calmed down. "Not exactly a forthright conversationalist, is he?"

"The answer to your question lies within the five-fold mysteries of the Sleeping Man," Sensei Dharvana answered. To her credit, she seemed completely nonplussed by both the snarling hellhound and Binne's brusque manner.

"And this is the part where you try to sell us on this whole joke-religion, is it?" Binne went on carelessly. "Because I'll tell you right now, after traveling with Eilistraeens for—"

"Binne," Nathyrra cut in. Her tone was friendly, amused, and not at all stern, but Binne seemed to get the message and cleared her throat gently.

"I'll shut up now," the cambion finished sheepishly.

"Oh no, go on, I was entertained," Valen said, chuckling.

"Maybe later," she promised. Solaufein looked at the two of them with a warm expression.

"Sensei Dharvana, what are the five-fold mysteries?" Nathyrra inquired politely.

The githzerai Sensei explained to her patiently: "Before seeing the Sleeping Man, pilgrims must answer the five-fold mysteries surrounding him. Who is he? From whence did he come? Why? What did he seek? And finally, what was the answer?"

Nathyrra sent a look Solaufein's way, and signed with her fingers, figuring that the Sensei wouldn't understand the silent language or mind the quick communication. 'What should we do?' she asked Solaufein. Solaufein replied back, 'no time,' referencing their limited schedule. Nathyrra could agree easily enough that they were on a bit of a time crunch, but she saw no reason not to indulge the Sensei while Binne and Solaufein's armor was still being repaired. 'Armor, smith,' she signed back. 'Three hours.' Solaufein nodded, and Nathyrra continued to address the Sensei with her verbal queries. "He is a celestial, yes?" she said, questioningly.

"This is the first of his mysteries," the Sensei said. "He is a celestial planetar, traveling the planes, like the rest of us pilgrims."

"And the second, is from whence he came?" Nathyrra queried again.

"Mount Celestia, right?" Binne suddenly piped up with wisdom. Everyone turned to look at her, surprised. "What? Gru'ul said he was from Celestia. Isn't that where all celestials come from? That's why they're called celestials!"

"That be kinda racist," Deekin piped up with some criticism. "Just because he be an—"

"Yes," the Sensei announced with a nod. "This is the second of his five-fold mysteries. He traveled down from Celestia."

"Hah! I was right!" She stuck her tongue out at Deekin who guffawed. "Seems a long way to go just to take a frosty Hell-nap, though," Binne mumbled, burying her fingers in the hellhound's fur contentedly.

"That is the third of his mysteries," the Sensei explained. "Why did he travel to Cania?"

"Good question," Binne complimented. "Why would anyone? This place is colder than Auril's cunt and just as miserable to be in." Aribeth let out an unexpected laugh that sounded as if she were startled to hear it emerge from her own mouth. Binne gave her a sly grin. "We'll corrupt you yet," she promised the former paladin, who emitted a challenging raised eyebrow.

"He left most likely in search of something vital to his being, for a celestial to travel low with no intent of waging war upon demons is rare," Nathyrra inferred. She pondered the significance of names and remembered what Eilistraee had given to her when she left the great lady's domain. "He was driven by something great, a desperation or devotion. He sought a True Name?" she guessed. Everything in Hell since their arrival seemed to revolve around True Names.

The Sensei seemed startled, judging by the widening of her eyes, but her expression remained calm and neutral. "Yes," she uttered. "That is the third, and fourth of his mysteries."

"What is the fifth?" Solaufein wondered.

"The answer that he sought. The reason he waits, sleeping," the Sensei explained.

Solaufein signed at Nathyrra quickly. 'Guess,' he suggested. Nathyrra racked her brain, quickly diving through possibilities and eventually settled on one that seemed most likely: "Fate," she said. "He knew he would meet his ultimate fate here. Perhaps he was warned of it beforehand, through a dream or oracle of some nature, and now he sleeps awaiting the next step in his journey," she inferred.

The Sensei seemed quite impressed. "That is the fifth mystery. Well-done, pilgrims."

"Even though it was all Nathyrra's doing," Valen muttered quietly behind them, to Binne's answering snicker.

"May we see him now?" Nathyrra inquired.

Sensei Dharvana seemed momentarily hesitant, but then gestured to the side of the room, where a doorway lay that led down to a hallway. Nathyrra looked at Valen and couldn't help but smirk. "You should go first," she suggested.

He glared at her, but it wasn't out of anger and it quickly faded to amusement. "How about Aribeth goes first?" He shot back. "She's got less to lose here."

"It's not trapped," Aribeth shot in, rolling her eyes. "I fail to understand this hesitation, but I will go."

"Before you do," the Sensei piped up, and took a necklace that was a simple blank pendant attached to a silver chain from around her neck that Nathyrra - oddly and to her consternation - had not taken note of when she first saw the woman. She handed the necklace straight to Nathyrra, who took it with trepidation. "You will require this, to know him," the Sensei explained cryptically.

They made a line, with Valen keeping up the rear, as Aribeth marched through the doorway and down a torch-lit hallway. It had been a while since Nathyrra had seen and felt real fire, and she lingered near one of the torches as she warmed her fingers up to it. She eventually caught up to the group that had decided to wait for her at the end of the hall, Boon last of all following Nathyrra, and they entered the wide chamber of the Sleeping Man together.

The first thing Nathyrra noted was her faint surprise at the fact that the Sleeping Man was so large, and green. Placed in his sleep, perhaps more ceremonially than needfully, on a large circular cushioned altar in the center of the room, he was a shocking shade of viridian that nearly glowed with life. His form suggested impressive height, perhaps towering over all of them - Nathyrra immediately estimated that she was perhaps the size of one of his wings, which flopped from his back to the floor, back and forth occasionally in his dream. A cloud of feathers stirred on the floor as the air was disturbed by this instinctive motion, and one of the feathers floated to Nathyrra's foot. She picked it up with her gloved hand, noting its size and weightlessness, its seeming ethereal aura about it that made it shine in every color in the spectrum like a white raven's wing, and it reminded her of being in the presence of Eilistraee with its strange, tingling warmth. She tucked it in her belt for no reason other than whim and approached cautiously.

They formed a circle around the stirring Sleeping Man, and Deekin alone was brave enough to approach the celestial's great green body and pry open his eyelids with his claw. The celestial's shimmering golden eyes rolled about aimlessly, dilating and contracting at random, suggesting a deep and disturbing dream he was immersed in. Nathyrra could not help but to wonder how many restless centuries he had been here, and how exactly time might be different depending on the plane one was in, and its powers. Undermountain had been on Prime after all, a seemingly immutable place compared to the elemental planes - and yet time in it stretched days into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years.

"Deekin, care to do the honors?" Binne piped up after everyone was silent for a moment, each taking in their own thoughts and observations.

"Eh, Deekin thinking now that maybe blowing trumpet not be such a good idea," Deekin said a little nervously. "What if Sleeping Man be mad when he wakes? What if he tries eat little Deekin? Kobold not be good eatings but drow eats kobold and so does beholders, so Deekin thinking it be best not to take his chances!"

"He's not a dragon," she scoffed.

"Dragons, Deekin can handle," Deekin said confidently. "Deekin been handling dragons all Deekin's little life! Weird religion surroundings sleeping celestials? That not be Deekin's area of, uh, expertise."

"You're a bard, aren't you?" the cambion scoffed. "Do what you did before, and just blow into the bloody thing. We'll cover our ears and hold off the Sensei if she gets pissy with you. Swift had the right of it in this, and this only, but he was alone and a complete fopping moron. She may look tough, but there's only one of her, and we have a Valen with a mighty flail. Oh, and Enserric of course, can't discount him, especially after he broke Beth's sword in half."

"Damn right!" The sword cried out from Solaufein's sheath, greatly muffled but still passionate, much to Solaufein's consternation. "About bloody time I was recognized for my exquisiteness!"

"Only because I had Rizolvir enchant you," Solaufein grumbled. "At no small expense."

"I know. You spoil me, wielder," the sword gushed.

Aribeth turned to look at Binne with a strangely pinched expression. "'Beth?'" She said questioningly.

"You don't like it?" Binne frowned.

Aribeth considered this. "It's . . . Fine," she conceded after a few seconds of hesitation. She tapped her translucent chin. "It has been a long time since anyone called me that. I don't mind it. Rather, does anyone else feel . . . Uneasy, in this room?" She asked of everyone, eyes searching for validation. "I cannot help but wonder how aware of us he is, in his slumber."

Solaufein frowned and said, "I like not this faith. What keeps him here? What need would bring him this low?"

"Let us find out," Nathyrra suggested, and held up the necklace for everyone to see. "I believe this will allow me to communicate with his unconscious mind," she explained. "The Sensei saw his dreams and recorded them down, and her religion grew around these observations."

"Seems easier and faster just to wake him," Binne complained.

"I would rather this not escalate into violence, for once," Nathyrra said with some amusement in her voice that she unsuccessfully disguised.

Binne grinned. "Aw, but that's our idiom!"

"We will wake him if we cannot find the answers we seek with this method," Nathyrra promised. "Is that acceptable?"

"So, Deekin maybe not have to blows trumpet? Whew!" Deekin was relieved and sat down on the floor, his pack's weight causing him to lean on it as he let out a long sigh.

"Sure, I suppose," Binne shrugged. She eyed the sleeping celestial contemplatively as she scratched Boon's ears. "What do you suppose his name is?"

"Perhaps that is something that time has forgotten," Nathyrra answered. She approached the sleeping celestial and knelt near his form, and put on the amulet, since it seemed to be silently and unanimously decided that she should be the one to wield it, having answered the five-fold mysteries for them. She touched the Sleeping Man's shoulder with her un-gloved hand, and Nathyrra's mind expanded like a balloon and something swelled within her that changed her world entirely, forever.

Nathyrra was gone.

He was staring down at the lines in his hands, pale green and suddenly familiar as the breath in his chest, as the sound of wing beats, as the rushing of the rivers, as the wind whipping around the mountain. He was as old as they, had witnessed their miraculous creation and learned to marvel with all his kind at the wonder and beauty in it. He dwelt in the land of the sun, in the high mountains. Celestia itself was adrift on the great astral sea, kept intact and ruled by the House of the Triad. He knew it was by Torm's mighty grace that he should have form, and thought, and dreams, but something in him was discontent. His dreams were of a lonely, howling ice-field of endless battle and death. He did not understand them.

His heart was restless, and full of questions about the future. In the seven heavens, one aspired to one-ness, with the highest of all - the divine. Every aspect of one's life revolved around service to the creators and creatrixes. He had been to the mightiest of thrones with his questions burning in his heart - of the why of his restlessness, the source of his discontent. He knew not the name of what he yearned for but knew that the ones who had made him would understand - they would know what they had made, and how to unmake it.

Many stories were said of Chronias, the highest layer. He had been born there, once. He knew the name of his creatrix, and sought Her out, begging the goddess to burn the lies away from his soul with her light and let him know the truth. His goddess granted this request, knowing he had never asked for anything before, and had only served dutifully as he must.

He knew then what the true question in his heart was - for half of it was missing. He had been born with a soul-mate, who had been born to another time, in another place, far across the planes. There was only one race of beings who could help him find what he was looking for - the Knowers, the First Ones, who held the all the secrets of the universe in their lofty minds.

She was kind enough to tell him where the Knower of Places might be, who could inform him of his desire. The place his other half might be found. He would, however, have to travel far.

He raised his mighty wings and leapt from the top of Mount Celestia and fell. He passed through shining Jovar, over the fountains of Empyrea and through Mertion. He soared through Solania's silvery skies and descended through the fertile valleys of Venya, past Bahamut's magnificent palace and touched the waves of Lunia's starry seas with his toes as he wandered past beyond their borders. Farther than he'd ever been before, past the many heavens and layers of beautiful Elysium and the wild Beastlands he soared until he reached the roots of the Great Tree in Ysgard, and then finally - the plains of Limbo.

He focused on his mission, and it maintained him through the madness of Pandemonium. His focus kept him forthright and strong in the face of every foe who opposed his path through the Abyss and Carceri. He passed through the gray glooms of Hades and fiery Gehenna until he reached the first of the Nine Hells and felt closer to his destiny than ever before.

He did not stop falling until he reached the Eighth, Cania. There it was - the place of his dreams, the endless icy fields of dead and dying, lost, and forgotten. There, he found the ancient Knowers, used by the powers of Baator as tools in their games for control of the planes. He watched as the Knower of Names fell from grace, only to be banished by her lover for loving him. He saw the price of love in the Abyss. He sought out the Knower of Places, led to her by the tools given to him by his goddess, and thought long and hard about his question to ask her, for she agreed only to answer one. He knew he could ask for more - he could ask the place of the Knower of Names, who would tell him the True Name of his other half - but at what cost? How would he find his other half? Knowing the name of this person would not help him if he could not find them. No, only the Knower of Places would know where they might be found.

The winged, fey Knower smirked at him, and said, "She will find you at the gates of Cania."

And Nathyrra was pulled away from the Sleeping Man's shoulder, grounding to the tiles beneath her feet once more, becoming herself again.

It was an extremely disorienting experience, but not defeating, not for Nathyrra who had been polymorphed multiple times as punishment for part of her sorcery studies, had been under Lloth's thumb for decades before finding Eilistraee, had been a memory-less golem in a haszak city . . . She was able to compose herself in a few moments with some deep breathing. At her shoulder was Solaufein's hand, the male looking worried upon her behalf.

"Dalninil?" He queried, cocking his head to the side. "Are you well?" he asked in their mother tongue.

Nathyrra's eyes caught the edge of the altar where, glinting gold in the torchlight, the letters, 'She will find you at the gates of Cania' were carved and lovingly painted onto the altar. Her feelings toward this were mixed - mostly due to part of her mind still feeling the attachment to the dream of the Sleeping Man. She found purchase in Solaufein's hand on her shoulder and went up to grasp it with her own. The hellhound came up beside her and bumped her other hand with his nose, and she rested her hand upon his head for balance.

Nathyrra, due to the amulet, could sense his concern through their touch as it pooled in his mind and grew the longer she kept her silence. Nathyrra looked up at him and nodded, putting him at ease. She let go of his hand, disconnecting their minds. "I know what it is we seek," she said aloud in Common, for everyone's benefit.

"Great! Er, what is it?" Binne wondered aloud. After a few moments of silence, she guffawed. "Wait, do we even know what we're looking for?"

"We're looking for the Reaper's True Name!" Deekin chimed in.

With Solaufein's help, Nathyrra was able to stand. She wasn't certain how long she'd been sitting there, but her legs felt stiff. She stamped the feeling back into her feet and addressed everyone on what she had seen, summarizing it to the best of her ability: "In the Sleeping Man's quest," she began, "he sought out a race of beings that are called the Knowers. Ancient ones. First Ones, he referred to them as. One of them is the Knower of Names. One of them is the Knower of Places. Only the latter knows where the former might be, and I know where we might find the latter, for this planetar came into contact with her in his journey before he took his rest here."

"Why did he come here at all?" Valen had to wonder, his nose wrinkling, most likely due to the presence of the celestial aura. Both he and Binne were further from the Sleeping Man than the rest of them.

Nathyrra hesitated to answer - because it was the one part of the Sleeping Man's journey that she fundamentally could not relate to. She had felt something was missing in her life, sure, until she met Eilistraee. Never since had she doubted herself, except when she felt she deserved it. Never had she felt hollow, or as if half of her were gone. She could not imagine needing someone else so desperately for emotional relief that she would rather sleep than wait for them while doing something else. Yet here the Sleeping Man was, dreaming of his quest, dreaming of his love, dreaming of fulfillment rather than seeking it. Why? "He sought his other half, his soul-mate," she struggled to explain. "He - felt discontent, in Celestia, and sought the answer to the source of it. This was his answer. He asked the Knower where his true love might be found, and she answered him. His path took him here, where he now rests, waiting for her to arrive and wake him."

"As if that'll ever bloody happen," Binne scoffed. "Let me guess - he first had a dream? Presumably, of Cania?"

Nathyrra was a little baffled by how quickly and certainly Binne had reached this conclusion. "Yes, in a manner of speaking," she concluded. "He dreamed of Cania and felt that something was missing in his existence. In short, that is the reason why he is here."

Solaufein looked disturbed. "We should wake him," he insisted.

Nathyrra cocked her head to the side curiously. "I might be able to lead us to the Knower of Places without such measures," she said.

"Yes, and that's all well and good," replied Binne contemplatively, "but he's not exactly accomplishing much here, following his dreams, is he?"

"And here we are, about to follow his dreams," Valen criticized.

"All because Boss had a dream about the Valsharess," Deekin reminded everyone.

"That the Seer shared," Valen added.

"That was given to them by Eilistraee . . ." Binne trailed off as she and Valen exchanged a disturbed look that spoke volumes. "Not to mention that bloody weird dream I had of Cania before ever coming here," Binne mentioned anyway, now looking horrified as Valen's expression also became alarmed. The fiendlings' natural inclination to scoff at the interference of the divine in their lives undoubtedly was affecting them both, now that they had realized just how far Eilistraee's influence had led them.

"I . . . Do not understand this vendetta against dreams," Aribeth shot in, "but I understand that we are deciding to wake him now?" Thankfully, bringing everyone around to the point.

Nathyrra glanced at Solaufein uncertainly, but the dhaerow male nodded quite insistently and looked at Deekin. Nathyrra accepted this outcome, as it would allow her to ask the Sleeping Man further questions about his journey, and there was a chance some of his advice would be pivotal to their own quest. She signed at Valen to follow her to the door, where they awaited the surely angry githzerai Sensei who would no doubt hear trumpet's cry and come to the Sleeping Man's aid, as well as the aid of her religion when they suddenly debunked it by upending the sole pillar it stood upon. The hellhound trailed after Valen without command, and oddly enough Valen seemed to have entirely grown used to Binne's 'pet' and patted Boon on the head as the hound took its place guarding the door with him. Binne remained back at a distance, with no scythe (as Rizolvir had to make a new one, which was a separate project), facing it and ready to cast a spell at a moment's notice.

Nathyrra covered her elven ears as everyone followed suit. She looked at Solaufein pointedly, and Solaufein nodded. He indicated to Deekin, who reluctantly took the trumpet out of his bag of holding, placed it against his thin scaled lips, and blew a short, enthusiastic note.

The entire temple shook. Stones were knocked loose from the walls, bits of grout between the tiles loosened and cracked, and dust drifted down from the rafters wildly, disturbed by the sudden eruption of awful, horrible sonic force. It was a short note, thankfully, that still lasted longer than Nathyrra would have liked. At the end of it all, when Deekin was pulling the trumpet's mouthpiece away from his face, Nathyrra finally lowered her hands from her ears and heard the strident scream of the Sensei as she ran to the Sleeping Man's aid through the halls.

Nathyrra swiftly and instinctively cast an invisibility over herself and Valen as Sensei Dharvana charged into the room, livid beyond belief. She went for Binne first, who was visibly closest to her - Binne for her part simply cast a spell from her fingertips right at the Sensei, who blinked, brushed it off, and kept charging up until the point where Valen clothes-lined her into the ground. The Sensei rolled back and onto her feet in seconds and charged Valen next who had flickered into visibility as his spell de-activated around him and revealed his form.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nathyrra noted the sudden stirring of the Sleeping Man's wings, and the fluttering of his green eyelids. She felt a moment of disorientation as she realized she was still wearing the Sensei's amulet and likely still connected to the Sleeping Man's unconscious mind, and so she slipped it off, let it fall from her fingers, and snaked around behind the Sensei for the opportune strike.

Boon kept charging Sensei Dharvana and kept getting kicked back, earning progressively louder yelps every time. The Sensei was clearly an experienced warrior and was simultaneously able to hold Valen off as well, even though Valen had drawn his flail and was swinging now with deadly intent. His eyes had yet to flash red, and Nathyrra was still hoping this would end without violence, but her hope was rapidly disappearing with each strike the Sensei managed to land on Boon or Valen.

Sensei Dharvana kicked out with a mighty cry at Valen's chest when a moment after his strike, he left his side open, and he took the blow against his mithral breastplate, flying back onto the ground with a clatter. Nathyrra took this opportunity to level her blade and knife at the Sensei's side and neck, and de-activated her spell when she drew a bead of green blood from the githzerai's neck with her dagger, to make her point. "Stand down, and you will be unharmed," Nathyrra suggested blithely.

The Sensei was in no mood for their party's shenanigans and leveled a powerful kick behind her to Nathyrra's gut. Nathyrra let her dagger and short sword fall away from the Sensei's neck and side as she dodged the blow, and then Valen was back up on his feet and charging her in a moment. Sensei Dharvana was put on the defensive between the two of them, but still managed to dodge their every blow to their growing frustration.

They eventually managed to incapacitate the githzerai monk, largely in thanks to Aribeth, whose new broadsword - compliments of Rizolvir's stock he had upgraded from metals the interplanar dragon hoarded - was made of star metal and cut through the monk's enchanted robes like butter. The Sensei, no longer able to stand due to a lack of tendons in her legs, collapsed to the ground with a pained grunt - and to her credit, she did not cry out. Tears welled in the Sensei's eyes and soundlessly fell. She did not sob. She stared at the ground with angry tears at the corners of her eyes that stubbornly refused to fall.

Though no longer a paladin, Nathyrra had doubts in regards to Aribeth's atheism based off of a few observations, namely the strange aura that she still emitted that their fiendlings seemed to detect - and watching Aribeth soundly defeat Sensei Dharvana while she and Valen had actually struggled had certainly added evidence to her doubts. It was not by godly intervention that Aribeth won, but by simply sneaking up on the Sensei while she was occupied with fending off Valen and Nathyrra. Aribeth cut the githzerai woman down without hesitation in a distinctly un-paladin-like maneuver that was nonetheless effective but would not have been out of place in the Underdark. It forced Nathyrra to reassess the woman, in a healthy way. Aribeth was far more dangerous than she seemed to be on the surface.

"They teach you that dirty trick in paladin school?" Binne wondered in Aribeth's direction.

The lost soul shrugged, adjusting the dark plates of her new darksteel armor. "Not exactly, but she's down, isn't she?"

"I still think Valen deserves to win that one for getting fully monk-kicked in the chest," Binne replied.

"I'm fine," Valen defended, sounding amused, and brushed the dust and dirt off of his burnished armor. "Though she might have hurt my armorer's feelings."

The Sleeping Man, after centuries of stillness, creaked and hobbled his way back up into a standing position. Deekin was nearby but not of much help to the considerably larger man, whom for his part seemed mostly confused about Deekin's presence at his side and didn't know how to address his confusion. So, he ignored what were no doubt a series of internal questions about his situation and focused on one: "You made short work of your attacker," he commented in a voice that had gained a rasp from disuse. Still, it thundered through the room like wing-beats. "Who might she have been? Am I yet in Cania?" The Sleeping Man demanded to know.

Solaufein stepped forward, since of their party, he seemed to gather himself first, and Nathyrra was busy internally debating on whether or not they were going to have to kill the Sleeping Man if they answered his questions in the wrong way: "What do you remember last?" Solaufein asked as Nathyrra planned out the Sleeping Man's assassination step-by-step.

The Sleeping Man addressed the considerably shorter dark elven male as he re-traced his memories. Nathyrra probably could have re-traced them for him in half the time, so deep she had accidentally slipped into his dreaming mind. She eyed the amulet she had dropped on the ground, given to her by the Sensei, and picked it back up again, pocketing it carefully. "I knew . . . I knew she would find me here, near Cania's gates. So I waited. And I waited so long," the Sleeping Man went on mournfully. "I lost track of time. How long have I been asleep?"

"Er, Sleeping Man—well it seems silly to call you that now, you're no longer sleeping are you?" Binne mused aloud, tapping her lip. The hellhound circled her for a moment before coming to rest at her feet. "You have a name? Never you mind, I'm calling you Jo!"

"Jo?" The Sleeping Man queried, very confusedly.

Binne blazed past his question like he hadn't said anything at all. "So, Jo, you see here, you took a little nappy, and then a few centuries-possibly-more dragged by, and this githzerai traveler woman here - that's Sensei Dharvana, who has presently been maimed by Aribeth," she pointed, "say hello Sensei! Oh, she's not feeling very talkative," Binne babbled, ignoring the Sensei's violent yellow glare, "and anyway, she looked at you and thought, 'I could make a religion out of this!' And so, she bloody well did and she's been here for some time bangin' on about your dreams and whatever, until we came along and woke you up because we had some questions about how you got here, and those Knowers who know things."

Oddly enough, the No-Longer-Sleeping-Now-Named-Jo-Man, seemed to accept his new nickname and focus on one thing in the same breath, "A religion?" He breathed. He seemed incensed. "What utter blasphemy! A religion, of me?"

"There are worse religions, Jo," Binne promised him. "Trust me. You know there's desert folks who worship Ao? And Cyricists? At least she's not one of those, yeah? Count your blessings."

"I . . . Are you she?" Jo blinked, and stepped off of his altar, reducing his height slightly. He still towered over Binne, who herself towered over most of them, and Binne shrunk back instinctively as the Now-Named-Jo-And-No-Longer-Asleep planetar knelt before Binne and, of all the things to do, grabbed one of her hands in his own and gazed up into Binne's face hopefully. "I have waited so long for you - and now you have found me—"

"Let me stop you right there, Jo," Binne snapped, a little embarrassed, and pulled her hand away and quickly took a few steps back. "There's no way in the Hells — I mean, we're in Hell, so I mean — listen, I'm not — Nathyrra, a little help here?" She blundered.

"She means to say she is not your destined true love," Nathyrra summarized, guessing at what she was trying to get at.

"Right, there's no way I'm your destined whatever, I've already got so much destiny it'll make you sneeze, and I'm a cambion so, uh, you're a little close for comfort here, Jo," she wrung her hands and started to back away, bumping into the very amused Valen who righted her with both hands. She looked up at him gratefully and smiled back.

"Then . . . It must be you!" Jo cried out, stood up, and walked over to repeat the same routine to Nathyrra.

She was less amused than Valen, who started laughing and was ill-concealing it. The No-Longer-Sleeping-Man tried all their females, including Deekin to everyone's confusion until Nathyrra recalled the kobold genders were a little more fluid than most other humanoids. But when even Deekin refused him, Jo seemed downright depressed.

"She is not here," Jo mourned. "I thought that when I awoke . . . She would be waiting for me, by the gates of Cania as I was promised . . ."

"Don't see any gates here, and you really must not have ventured far into Cania if you think this is where—I mean—never mind," Binne babbled until she saw Nathyrra giving her the sign for 'stop.' "Sorry about all this Jo, I know you wanted your true love, but you might have to actually work for it instead of napping and flapping about."

"Perhaps you are right," Jo conceded, surprisingly. For his part he did not seem to mind the presence of the fiendlings, although they certainly minded his presence judging by their distance and shifting, itching stances. "Perhaps I waited too long, and she has left . . ."

"Or maybe she isn't here yet!" Binne tried to cheer him up. "You don't know and you can't know. Don't be morbid and put yourself down. It just happens to not be one of us."

"Definitely not," Aribeth added firmly.

"Are you sure?" Jo looked at her, still with a little hope in his eyes.

Aribeth valiantly resisted the urge to roll her eyes - Nathyrra could tell she wanted to, because Nathyrra would do the same thing in her position - but Aribeth remained calm, cool, and collected as she told Jo, "I arrived to Cania through direct fault of my own. I would not describe it as 'destiny.' That is a word used to justify the choices of gods in hindsight - I would suggest you seek out your true love, stop sleeping and waiting for her, and see what answers you might find elsewhere."

"But, the Knower of Places said—" Jo began, but Aribeth surprisingly cut him off, continuing her lecture (which at this point Nathyrra suspected was more about Aribeth than about Jo, but she let it happen anyway because it wasn't worth the effort to stop it):

"That she would 'find you by the gates of Cania,'" Aribeth said, pointing to the altar where the words were inscribed in gold. The Not-So-Asleep-Man shuddered at the sight of them, clearly fundamentally bothered by the idea that he was unknowingly the center of someone's religion. "And yet you put an end to your entire way of life in search of someone you did not know. This Knower did not exactly give you a specified time, from what I gather, correct, Nathyrra?" Nathyrra nodded. "So she told you just that the woman of your . . . Dreams," Binne snorted and Valen concealed a cough. ". . . Would find you here, with no given time or exact specifications. That, to me, sounds like the Knower told you a bunch of, ah, what do adventurers call it — cryptic nonsense—?"

"It's actually called a bunch of poppycock," Binne threw in.

"How do poppies grow on cock?" Solaufein was very confused. Binne burst out in snorts of irrepressible laughter as Aribeth went on.

"—In essence, the Knower of Places gave you the bare minimum of information and let you form your own conclusions about your 'destiny,'" the lost ex-paladin finished.

Jo seemed to consider this carefully. "Are you certain you are not she?" He asked, looking hopeful again Aribeth's way. "I would wish my love to be intelligent, and forthright, like you."

Aribeth was consternated. "Absolutely sure," she nodded. "Coincidence does not merit destiny, but even if my fate is responsible for my being here, I would still deny that I am your true love. Personally, I don't believe in any such thing. I've been in love too much to say it's unique and lasts forever. Part of its precious beauty is that it is temporary."

Jo sighed. "Then I must wait until she arrives," he said, sounding depressed. "Why did you wake me to this desolate time?" His expression and posture were positively moping, and Nathyrra looked down at the maimed Sensei, who was still silently staring at the ground with angry tears in her eyes.

"We seek the Knower of Names," Solaufein announced with a shrug and no flair whatsoever. "You are the only one so far who has any idea of where they might be."

"I know only how to find the Knower of Places," Jo answered him, "but you may ask her where the Knower of Names might be."

"Then you have what we seek," Solaufein summarized.

Then, a light seemed to appear in the Not-So-Sleeping-Man's eyes, and his posture became more confident and hopeful. "I would strike a deal with you, mortal."

Solaufein glanced at Nathyrra. She shrugged at him. "Your desire?" Solaufein queried politely.

"I would know the name of my soul-mate," Jo said desperately. "I will give you the key to finding the Knower of Places - and when you find the Knower of Names, in exchange, you will ask them what her True Name is, and bring me back this name."

Solaufein again looked to Nathyrra, and Nathyrra shrugged once more. It did not seem a bad arrangement, and if there was more that the Sleeping Man's dream-memory did not reveal about their task, his help would no doubt be needed. "I agree to your terms," Solaufein said cautiously.

"Insofar as we are able to fulfill your request," Nathyrra amended.

Jo - a name that seemed to stick no matter how Nathyrra tried to rationalize her way out of it - slipped a ring off his forefinger, a curious contraption that interwove with itself in seemingly three continuous bands. Nathyrra had seen elven and dark elven craftsmanship of equal quality - shar'krrja, they were called, jewelry that puzzled the mind which could fit together only in a certain formation. Solaufein looked annoyed by the thing when it was given to him and studied its markings needlessly, as his eyes and mind could not make sense of the letters. Nathyrra wondered how exactly he had managed to get through his sorcerous schoolings without being able to read effectively, but then internally reasoned that he could have easily been read to or simply worked twice as hard to disguise it.

"Dalninuk," she addressed Solaufein as brother, as easily as she had regarded Vaendrith, and the consideration made the older male smile. Nathyrra smiled back and held out her yet-ungloved hand. "Allow me," she requested politely, and he deposited it gratefully into her waiting palm.

She examined it from a few different angles with an appraising eye. In celestial, characters were inscribed with the sigils for hope, faith, and love respectively on three shining golden bands that interwove like rope. The ring came apart easily enough, and she was able to put it back together in a moment after looking at how it fit together. It was certainly enchanted, with an effect that seemed only to activate with the ring was in its final formation. She looked up at Jo and asked, "Did you make this?"

"It was given to me by my Lady," he acknowledged in an even lower, trembling voice. "I do not part with it easily. I have chosen to entrust you with the gift she gave me. It will lead you to the Knower of Places."

She accepted his word as truth, because she was holding the Sensei's amulet in her pocket and still felt a faint connection to his mind. Much like Binne, there was not a dishonest bone in this dreamer's body. She felt the memory he spoke of, when he had asked his creatrix for direction - and suddenly felt a vital connection to this moment in time as she recalled meeting with her own goddess, in death.

"I know what it feels, to be held by the divine," she told Jo simply. The celestial planetar's attention was arrested upon her. "To be given a gift such as this - it is a great thing. I do not accept it easily."

Jo seemed satisfied with her answer and smiled radiantly. "Then go in peace and bring me back the most beautiful name in all creation."

She nodded and put the ring on her ungloved thumb that had previously been gripping the Sensei's amulet in her pocket. The ring fit on her appendage, as it twisted to close the gap in size to make itself snug - but not tight - around her finger.

"Anyone have any ideas on what we should we do with her?" Binne wondered aloud, pointing to the downed Sensei.

Everyone turned to look at her just as Nathyrra's world flashed into a brilliant shade of deep magenta. She could make out the details of everything around her, but the colors had changed - and a certain glow around some of her companions began to assert itself. There was a steady one surrounding Binne and Valen, as well as Jo, but a rather brilliant one emerging from Solaufein that almost hurt Nathyrra to look at. By contrast, Aribeth and the hellhound were almost invisible in the enchanted ring's spectrum, as was little Deekin. Curiously, Nathyrra focused on the Sensei, who had no light at all surrounding her, and was still intently studying the floor, unable to move due to the severed tendons in her legs. How she was not howling in agony spoke to her extreme discipline.

Solaufein pressed his hand close to the Sensei's head - not quite touching - and a light emerged from his hands that was silver, beautiful, brilliant, and familiar as it settled over the Sensei and healed her wounds. She stood once she was able to and seemed mostly angry and confused.

"Sorry about all that misunderstanding, Sensei," Binne addressed, more or less speaking for all of them as Solaufein stepped back and seemed to defer to her. "Debunking your religion wasn't what I had in mind when I woke up, really all I had was buggery the mind," Binne at least admitted honestly, "but, all in a day's work! I figure we'll just leave you here with Jo while we make our merry way. Maybe you can take this opportunity to get to know the object of your worship better? Just some friendly advice, take it or leave it, we're about to leave anyway."

"Get. OUT," was all Sensei Dharvana could manage to say between gritted teeth.

"Well done," Binne agreed cheerfully and looked to Nathyrra. "Where to, Nath?"

Nathyrra thought leaving seemed like the best idea so far, even if Jo was giving them pleading looks as they ventured out to not leave him alone with the Sensei, but Nathyrra felt it might be good for the napping celestial's character if he confronted the religion that had grown around him in his negligence. It was his responsibility, after all. Her strangely pinkish-purplish vision started shifting as lights coalesced out of the air to form massive red arrows over her head, pointing toward the exit. Pleased that at least this time their path was exact and direct, she and Solaufein led the way out back into cold darkness.

"Our armor should be ready soon," Valen reminded them, and they decided to head back to the tavern to gear up. Nathyrra glanced into the distance and saw the red arrows leading them away from the tavern, and so slipped off the ring momentarily and kept it next to the Sensei's amulet in her pocket.

Rizolvir had successfully managed to repair Solaufein's mithral-enforced leathers and add fur to their linings, but he had to scrap most of the breastplate of Binne's armor and replace it with something else he had in stock. Luckily, the new set was made of sturdier materials - though Nathyrra would be hard pressed to judge any metal as sturdy as adamantine due to her innate dark elven bias (or loyalty), she could not deny that it was useless in the sun of Prime's world, and thus her old armor would be of no benefit to Binne should they escape Cania and she ever return home. Thus, the hopeful cambion received a resplendent breastplate made from the scales of the blue dragon bartender, not so much 'donated' as 'scavenged' from his last molt. Deekin was extremely jealous of her shiny, deep-blue armor, but he had traded for an armor set that enhanced his bardic abilities and spell-casting, courtesy of the d'jinn, and thus had no luck persuading Rizolvir to make him one.

Most vitally, Binne received a replacement mithral scythe of similar make and enchantment to her last, and an open-faced burgonet helm made of the same blue scales. One was offered to Valen but denied, to Binne's frustration, though Solaufein did accept one of dark elven design made of mithral, as it did not obstruct his eyesight and fit quite comfortably over his elven ears, in addition to being fur-insulated against the cold with part of a winter wolf's pelt. Binne's helm was similarly outfitted, with the added bonus of holes being cut out of it for her curving horns. She was happier than Nathyrra had seen in a while, and this made the drow female glad - the less distractions they had on their minds, the better their chances of survival out in Cania.

They were clad in Rizolvir's (retro-insulated) finest gear and it was the best that Nathyrra could have hoped for them. She pondered, again, on Eilistraee as they stepped out of the Hellsbreath Tavern one last time, and into the endless snow.

In all her years as student of sorcery in her first House, Zau'neld, and in all her years as a priestess in House Kan'tar, and in all her career as an assassin in the service of the Valsharess, Nathyrra had never died. Not once. She was entirely too careful for such nonsense and had simply never encountered anything fatal in her ninety-some-odd years. The first time Nathyrra had died had been in the jaws of Vix'thra, but she had not been aware of it at the time and had to be informed of the circumstances of her death by the tearful Binne after. It had been a quick affair, and she did not remember it very vividly. In the midst of the fight as she was attempting to spell-cast, Nathyrra simply found herself flying upwards, and then hitting something hard enough to break her concentration and lose the incantation to her spell, to her frustration. It was breathlessly painful for a split second, and then blessedly painless - just disorienting, as one second she was engrossed in an incantation, and the next she was dead. She had been aware of being dead for an indeterminate amount of time and remembered nothing of what that state of being felt like upon her resurrection.

When she had died for the second time, Nathyrra expected it to be her last. She had felt satisfied with this death, as painful as it was against an overwhelming horde of demons and undead, but she felt it could not have been a better death - for she had the privilege to die in battle alongside her abbin. That was not a privilege granted to many, and she felt fortunate for her brief time in the Seer's camp. Her only hope upon the moment of death was that Malla Seer made it out safely and escaped.

Nathyrra had fully expected to find herself in Orth Orb'cress, awaiting the pincers of Lloth as her soul would no doubt soon be devoured by the demon-queen. Instead, she was bathed in radiant silver light, and welcomed to the night-palace of the goddess of the moon. Eilistraee greeted her with open arms, and an open heart. She took the form of a tall dhaerow woman, much as Nathyrra expected, with eyes that were blue and sincere, much like the Seer's. She wore nothing at all and was unadorned, hair free, and completely comfortable. She greeted Nathyrra by name, not as one would a child - but a dear sister, or close friend - and took Nathyrra into her confidence. Nathyrra knew that if she ever met Eilistraee, she would no doubt have too many questions, but felt it would be ungracious of her to interrogate her insanely forgiving goddess as to the 'hows' and 'whys' of her divine whimsy. Instead, she only asked, "Is Solaufein truly your—?"

Before Nathyrra could even finish her question, Eilistraee started laughing - not the cold, cruel laughter of the Lloth fanatics, but the sweet, surprised, and genuine laughter of someone wholly amused. When Eilistraee finally deigned to explain the source of her amusement to Nathyrra, she spoke in a voice that was somehow the Seer's, and also Nathyrra's own: "When I will see you next, Nathyrra, it shall be through his eyes."

Nathyrra did not entirely understand this, until she heard Solaufein's voice calling her across the void, as a whisper in her ear, beckoning her back to life. Eilistraee smiled at her, giving her permission to depart, and Nathyrra left that night-palace with grace as a wisp on the wind. Eilistraee sent her away through light and sound until she emerged in the Reaper's Realm, and by the power of it, she was graced with life once more. One moment she faced her Lady, and the next, Solaufein. Part of her wondered then, when she returned to life in that moment, if they were not the same.

Certainly, now observing Solaufein as he trudged through the snowdrift alongside her, one would deny any similarities between the male and the goddess. Part of Nathyrra wanted to deny him the status simply on the basis on him being male - but Nathyrra knew and reasoned that gender had very little to do with divinity. If Eilistraee chose to present herself as female at times, why should Eilistraee also not be male? Why should she not incarnate into any form she chose at all? Who was she to question Eilistraee's will?

Solaufein stared at her. "What?" He questioned her in their mother tongue. "Point your eyes elsewhere, dalninil. A female's scrutiny is a dangerous thing to put on a male."

Nathyrra smiled. "There is something on your face." She tapped twice at the tip of her nose. While Solaufein wiped at nothing to get something off his face, Nathyrra stepped ahead and led the way that the red arrows in her violet vision were leading her. She twisted the puzzle ring around her finger as she spotted something unusual that she knew had not been there before, when she had scouted the area on her own. Protruding from the wall and supported by two massive monolithic pillars was a door with a single, round nob. A strange feeling welled in her gut as she watched the arrows point inside the door and lead her on.

"I think . . . We should hold hands," she reasoned. "I am the only one who can see this door, correct?" Everyone looked at her like she was crazy, so she took that for an affirmation and grabbed Solaufein's unresisting hand in her own. "Everyone, link hands please," she requested, and watched as everyone formed a semi-circle with Valen pulling up the rear of their line. Once they were all connected by one to another, she led the way to the astral door, grasped the knob with her ringed hand, and pulled.

And pulled again. It wouldn't budge.

She pulled a third time, and finally, embarrassed she hadn't thought of it seconds ago, pushed inward on the door and it gave way easily. She heard Binne, Valen, and Solaufein chuckling at her expense, and found she did not mind it much, for it reminded her of the few pleasant memories she carried of being amongst the Red Sisters. Often they would joke with each other, usually cruelly or at another's expense, but it was rarely heartfelt. It made her conversion very hard for them to swallow. She could understand why they had all wanted her dead - in their place she would have felt no differently.

Nathyrra was taken away from her memories by a gust of bitingly freezing wind that blew her hood down and tore through her short white locks, stirring them restlessly into the air. She forged on ahead, leading them toward the next red arrow that pointed the way, even though she was snow-blinded and could detect no heat or visible light in either spectrum. She tugged her hood back up, tightened her gloves, and wrapped part of her cloak around her face to protect her nose from the cold.

"Brrr!" Deekin chittered. "Ooooh, Deekin is glads Boss talked him into gettings boots."

"You would lose your feet in this cold," Solaufein lectured sternly.

"Losing Deekin's aesthetic is worth it, if Deekins toes be warms," the kobold agreed.

"Stand behind us fiend-types, chicken legs," Binne suggested, pointing to herself, Boon, and Valen with her mitten. "We'll keep the wind off your front, at least, and Boon's got hellfire he can bark at us if it gets bad."

"How far do you think it is?" Aribeth stepped forward as she brushed snowfall off her armor, perhaps a useless gesture in light of all the snow that was falling down in thick, wondrous clumps from the gray sky. Nathyrra looked up and had to close her eyes as a few snowflakes had caught in her eyelashes. She brushed them off her face and wrapped her cloak a bit tighter.

"The path leads on," was all Nathyrra could confirm. "For how long, I cannot say."

"I hope this Knower has a fire going," Binne grumbled. Boon rumbled beside her.

"We have rations to last us for weeks," Valen spoke up, perhaps trying to comfort Binne or settle everyone's fears.

"Waterdeep can't last under this, even with the zalantar-spear griffin cavalry," Binne shook her head quickly just as Boon did the same thing with his entire body, both of them sending snow flying. Valen took a step back from the sudden assault, annoyed.

"Ooooh!" Deekin cooed. "Deekin cants waits to see Waterdeep griffins in action! Boss, we has to hurry to finds this Knower! Deekin is missing out on important story-action!"

"What sort of a name is 'Knower of Places and Names,' anyhow?" Binne continued to grumble, even as Nathyrra started forging ahead where the red arrows over her head were coalescing in the air and leading her.

"What sort of a name is 'Jo,'?" Valen asked right back.

"I think it suits him," Binne reasoned. "And I didn't hear any complaints! It's not as if he bothered to correct me."

Their humor kept them moving, but wherever the astral door had led them, it was twice as cold, and the bitter winds whipped past them, cutting through their clothes, and chilling their skin. For their part, Binne and Valen seemed largely unbothered, and Deekin was clearly suffering the most. For their sakes, Nathyrra prayed to Eilistraee that they would find something warm soon or have the means to start a fire with their spare velox. She spied a few velox bushes along their path, a short distance from the red arrows, and pocketed as many as she could with everyone's help.

Soon, their path led them into a narrow crevasse, the other side of which was a snowy field, guarded by a balor. The arrows pointed straight to him. The winged fiend towered over them, wielding a massive glowing claymore, and spied them immediately at a distance as he snarled through rows of sharp teeth - or perhaps he was smiling at his next meal. Binne threw a spell ahead of them with her fingers, thinking faster than any of them, and a cage of pure blue-glowing energy forcibly trapped the balor behind its translucent walls, to its immense frustration. It pounded and wailed against the walls, and even attempted to plane-shift - to no avail, as a skilled enough warlock could easily bind any demon in place.

"Everybody come up with a plan, it won't hold forever!" Binne exclaimed.

"Banish him!" Aribeth immediately suggested.

"I can't exactly banish him if we're in his home plane!" Binne pointed out, and Aribeth for her part considered this and then immediately felt foolish, judging from her expression.

"Oh," was all the ex-paladin could say. "Right. Let's kill him, then."

"You're a lot bloodthirstier than I remember, Beth," Binne commented. "I'm liking this new 'you.'"

"We should circle him, and I may hold him in place when your cage falls," Nathyrra offered. "Deekin should stand by with the trumpet - if we fail, it may stun our enemy and give us an advantage."

Solaufein nodded. "When the cage falls, Valen and Aribeth charge with me," he commanded. Valen and Aribeth nodded and took to standing ready with their weapons on opposite sides of the balor. The guardian of their path, for his part, seemed aware of what was happening and was growing increasingly frustrated and angry with his inability to stop it. He lashed out violently against the translucent cage of energy, fruitlessly.

Binne warned them a few seconds before the force-cage fell, allowing Aribeth, Solaufein, and Valen ample time to ready themselves for their simultaneous charge. Nathyrra hung back at a distance with Binne, Boon, and Deekin, monitoring the battle as it erupted and running through a list of memorized spells that might be useful in their present situation. Her preparation, as it turned out, was unnecessary, as the battle was relatively short.

They'd caught the demon in a disadvantageous position. With Valen behind him taking out his knees first with his flail, Aribeth facing him and breaking his sword on her own as the claymore came down to try and behead her, and Solaufein charging faster than anyone in lighter armor and executing a practically flying cut that opened up the demon's throat completely. The balor fell to the ground with his broken blade, life snuffed out, in a heap. Overall, it lasted a matter of seconds.

"Well, that was mildly disappointing," Binne complained half-heartedly. As if to punctuate her statement, the dog lolled and panted, the snowflakes melting on his hide as soon as they hit. "I mean I'm glad it went so well, but I didn't even really get any licks in," she went on. "We're getting to be too good at this."

"You are complaining we are too good at killing our enemies?" Nathyrra did not understand her position.

Binne frowned, and for her part seemed genuinely - or perhaps mockingly - distressed. Nathyrra was unsure. "It's just no fun anymore, without one of us dying or at least being brutally maimed," Binne sighed plaintively. "Oh, for the old days, when we tripped over each other into battle . . ."

"You are a strange person," Nathyrra realized.

"You have only just now realized this?" Solaufein was incredulous.

"She is fairly normal by our people's standards," Nathyrra said.

Solaufein considered this as though it was a novel concept, and then nodded. Binne laughed. "I don't know whether that's a compliment or insult, but I'm taking it as the former," she announced cheerily. Nathyrra was pleased to see that some of her old humor had returned, despite her odd somber moments when she thought no one was looking.

They elected to quickly ransack the body of the balor for anything useful, but it seemed the only thing of value on his person had been his now-broken claymore. Oddly enough a scroll was strapped to his body that Binne quickly perused, announced it was in Abyssal, and summarized as some type of warning left by her dread father to those who might try to find some individuals called the Molikroth Rebels. It was inconsequential as it did not pertain to their mission, but Deekin decided to tuck it into his adventure journal for safekeeping and Nathyrra led the way to where the arrows were pointing them next. Strangely enough, it was straight through a stone wall.

Nathyrra, confused, placed her hand against the rocks and cast a diagnostic spell. In her mind's eye she could see the cracks between the rocks, too heavy for her to exploit but most certainly present, as the rock-wall had been artificially made and only hardened by years of ice. It was fragile enough to break, but too big for her to attempt, and she ran through the possibilities in her mind while examining it, oblivious to the others behind her.

"Nathyrra?" Valen called out over the wind, as it began to howl. She pulled away from the wall and turned to the General.

"We must get through this wall," she announced. "Does anyone have suggestions?" She decided to out-source the problem to everyone in the hopes of solving it faster.

"That wall?" Binne whistled. "It seems Beshaba's been smirking at us. Five gold says my crusty ol' crotchety father put this here, at least judging from the note."

"Aren't we following the Sleeping Man's path? The wall must have been placed here after he made his journey, and fell asleep," Aribeth reasoned. "Perhaps these Molikroth Rebels followed in his path as well."

"Without this ring, they would find that incredibly difficult," Nathyrra cut in. She started rubbing her arms, as they experienced a chill.

"We should find a solution quickly, or a place to make camp," Solaufein suggested.

"Anyone have an amulet of explosions?" Binne wondered, tapping her chin with a black claw. Boon nuzzled her side and she patted at him absently.

"A few big enough hezrou or balors could knock it over, I bet," Valen added.

Something began to warm against Nathyrra's leg, and confusedly she went through her pockets until she found the offending object. It was the Sensei's amulet, the chain wrapped around her fingers. The pendant was humming with energy. Solaufein looked at Nathyrra for a moment, alarmed, before suddenly he disappeared.

It took Nathyrra a second to realize it wasn't that Solaufein had disappeared or that anything other than Nathyrra herself had changed - she was suddenly taller, and wider, and couldn't feel anything in her body anymore. It was disconcerting to a degree, but she still remembered being a golem, which was not a very different condition. She tried to speak, but suddenly had no mouth, and could only make grinding noises, as her entire body had been turned into a massive series of rocks.

She was an earth elemental. Confused about her circumstances but pleased that she had found a solution somehow to their problem, she took advantage of her condition and raised one of her rock-fists to the wall in front of her made of ice and stone. It shattered in two blows, and then suddenly something fell from her body into the snow and she was back into her normal, non-polymorphed body and size. She examined the snow with a careful eye and found the Sensei's amulet again, as it had fallen from her form, and she put it back in her pocket.

"Warn us next time you do something crazy!" Binne objected, from some distance away. The hellhound barked at her in a friendly way, as if he were warning her not do it again. Nathyrra realized the others had scrambled to get away from her massive form as she had attacked the wall without warning them, potentially endangering them.

"I apologize," Nathyrra began sincerely. "I found myself suddenly polymorphed into an advantageous form for our position and decided to do something about the wall. It seems the Sensei's amulet has latent polymorphing properties, in addition to its mind-linking enchantment."

"That's a dangerous bauble then," Binne commented. "And of course only you'd be so practical you'd dismiss your sudden transformation as trivial in light of our goals. Gods love you, Nathyrra, but you are brilliant."

"Are you alright?" Solaufein wondered, concern lacing his rasping voice.

Nathyrra nodded, and smiled, although he could not see it through the cloak that had been wrapped around her neck and face. She hoped her smile shined through her voice. "I am and am pleased with our progress. We should continue until we find a place to set up a velox berry campfire," she reminded him, and started making her way over the fallen rocks and ice chunks that had once made up the artificial wall.

It eventually led to a cave in the ice, which opened into an icy tunnel that led back outside to a new area. While they were sheltered from the wind, they decided to set up camp for a moment and warm up before venturing out again, to avoid frostbite.

Deekin was ostensibly in charge of their velox supply and got to work on the fire with Binne's and Boon's help, and Aribeth - needing no warmth or sleep - volunteered to keep watch for them while the rest of them got a little bit of rest and rations in their bellies. Binne immediately took the opportunity to fall asleep on Valen's leg after rapidly eating, while Solaufein and Nathyrra distributed their dried foods amongst them. It was dried fruit and meats, largely, though they had more in their supply thanks to the dragon and the d'jinn than Nathyrra would have ever thought possibly available in Baator. Once more, Aribeth politely refused, and brooded at a distance.

Nathyrra became so focused on enjoying her small meal that she almost missed Solaufein's question, in Ilythiiri: "How did you come to the Seer?" She glanced around and assumed at first he was speaking to Valen but saw Valen's eyes on her and then put it together in her head that Solaufein had directed this to her. She felt a little unexpectedly shy at the sudden attention from the Chosen and hoped Deekin wasn't recording their conversation details for 'posterity' as he always seemed to do.

"How I came to the Seer, is how I came to Eilistraee," Nathyrra explained after swallowing. Solaufein's eyes were curious and earnest, so she went on, despite feeling uncomfortable about sharing a vulnerable truth with a male (Chosen or not) - "I was once a Red Sister, as you know. My task, given to me by the Valsharess, was to assassinate an Eilistraeen priestess, and place the blame for the deed on a neighboring House. When I found this priestess, I . . . Stayed my hand." She found herself unable to verbally justify why she had stopped in her assassination, the last one of her career, and Solaufein noted this.

"Why?" He queried.

It was an innocent query with a complex and heavy answer. "I am not sure," Nathyrra admitted carefully. "At first it was because I thought I recognized her. She had once been a part of a great House that too had been conquered by the Valsharess, much like mine. Before that task was given to me, I had many questions in my heart about the veracity of the Valsharess' cause. I was not certain of myself after that. The priestess I was required to assassinate directed me to the Seer's encampment, in Lith My'athar. I surrendered myself there and asked for judgment. Instead, Malla Seer welcomed me with open arms."

"What happened to this priestess?" Solaufein wondered.

Nathyrra hesitated. "She died in a skirmish, later. I have regretted her death since. I vowed to avenge her against the Valsharess, but I think Eilistraee does not care for vengeance. What of you?" She caught herself asking, but then went on, "I am curious as to how you came to Eilistraee, Solaufein. You did not know of others in her faith for some time, is that true?"

Solaufein's tone was even more hesitant than hers, but perhaps because he had declared her dalninil, he went on: "I found Eilistraee in the Underdark as you did. Only, when I did, I knew not her name. There was only a feeling at first - a doubt in Lloth's principles."

Nathyrra nodded. "I felt something similar."

"When my House fell, Ousslyl, I felt nothing," he revealed. "I was fully devoted to Lloth at that time. It was not until later that I experienced doubt, and then fear. It would be many years before I reached the surface and found my way to Eilistraee."

Nathyrra found it amazing that one who was Chosen could be so blind about their fate for so long - but perhaps this was Eilistraee's will, to shelter herself in shadow amongst Lloth's most faithful, to lure away the faithful from the Spider Queen's side. "Heirs of the blade? You had a long history of weapon mastery in your House, I see," Nathyrra noted.

"What was yours?" Solaufein wondered.

"Zau'neld," she said. "We were the children of the arcane. This was why I was spared amongst the others of my House - I had superior talent in wizardry."

"The matron of Despana spared me for identical reasons," said Solaufein. "You have satisfied my curiosity. It seems you and Valen have much in common, in terms of your devotion to the Seer. I will do my best to see you returned to her," he vowed.

"There is much of the surface I would like to explore and see, one day," Valen added in, rather unexpectedly. Binne started snoring against his leg lightly, which made him and Solaufein smile. "If we ever make it out of Hell, at any rate," he added.

"I am with you on this, Valen," Nathyrra stated. "I have heard too many tales of the surface to remain confined to the Seer's grove forever. I should like to see it, and build a home there, but adventure out when it pleases me."

"Dhaerow are not looked kindly upon the surface, females even less so than males," Solaufein cautioned. "A glamour would be best for places outside of major cities. I have learned this the difficult way."

"This is why I carry a shadow door in my contingency," Nathyrra said slyly, causing Solaufein to chuckle.

They tore down camp perhaps an hour later, after a few of them took small cat-naps and one of them took a dog-nap. Once out of the ice cave and back in their gear, they ventured forth with Nathyrra's direction toward the red arrows and encountered none other than a horde of ice trolls.

It was not a battle worth repeating, and Nathyrra was certain Deekin would embellish details of this encounter in the final version. She'd used a few acid arrows and fiery cantrips to seal the wounds of the trolls with Boon's help as he barked fire at them toward the end, but Nathyrra spent most of the battle running around and trying not to get hit along with the hellhound. Binne was by far the most useful with her scythe, which did not require her to be up-close and personal to the flailing fists of the ice trolls. Thankfully Valen had a flail that made short work of most of his enemies, until he was briefly swarmed and knocked out of the count and had to be rescued by Aribeth and her superior sword. Solaufein kept killing trolls left and right, but they would get back up after a few moments of troll regeneration and attack him again, and it wasn't an altogether effective system. Meanwhile, Deekin was ransacking his bag the entire time to find fire-bolts that he had stored at the bottom, and eventually did find them, helping to kill the trolls by allowing them to stab at the wounds with fire to keep them from regenerating. It was a bloody, annoying, and harrowing affair that Nathyrra was happy to put behind them.

(She would revisit that thought later when they entered the mimic's den.)

The arrows did eventually, seemingly, lead them astray as it led them to an icy cliff with a ledge too high for any of them to climb up to or jump to. The arrows led straight up it, and Nathyrra realized with frustration that this would not ordinarily be an issue for a planetar with massive albatross-wings. She informed everyone of their dilemma, and rather than try and find a way up the impossibly slick ice cliff, they decided to try and find a detour around it. All they found instead was another ice cave.

This one was warmer than any of the previous ones, as the further they ventured into its darkness, the less narrow it got, and the more hot it became until finally there was no ice coating the stone walls at all left, and a nearby lava flow made itself known.

"This feels a bit more like Hell, aye?" Binne spoke up and took off her helmet to shake out her black hair for a moment.

They followed the flow to a large, central stone cavern with a ceiling so high that Nathyrra couldn't see it in the visible spectrum, and the heat was overwhelming enough to make her wary of slipping into the spectrum of heat. Solaufein stepped forward closer to the edge of the lava flow and held out a hand in front of him as if to test its heat.

Abruptly, a shucking noise alerted Nathyrra to the presence of something. She immediately assumed it was an enemy and drew her sword, only to find herself staring at what appeared to be a large tongue stuck to the outside of Solaufein's armor. He looked down at it, confused, and tried to slice at the offending appendage with his sword. Through the smoke and heat the tongue snapped back before Enserric's edge could touch it, and took most of Solaufein with it, in the form of his armor. He was wearing nothing but his new helmet, boots, and gloves, with his sword in hand just a moment later - nearly completely naked, and furious. "Vel'bol xondyerna uoi'nota zhah nindol?!" He growled demandingly into the air.

Nathyrra couldn't help it. First she heard Binne hold back a chuckle, and then couldn't repress the laughter herself. It fountained out unexpectedly and cathartically. Moments later, the appendage appeared again in their midst, and grabbed onto the edge of Valen's pauldron, and they stopped laughing.

Valen went for it first - with his flail - only for the strange tongue to wrap around the handle of Valen's weapon and attempt to wrest it from him. Valen nearly fell into the lava trying to hold onto it - but the strange theft of Devil's Bane allowed Nathyrra to get a better look at the thief, as the smoke dissipated enough for her to catch the glimpse of a demonic mimic in the shape of a furniture chest, with a wide sinister mouth in the place of opening, and a thirst for shiny and deadly objects.

Valen was possibly even more furious than Solaufein and tried to charge the mimic, only to get repelled by lava flows in every direction. There was a narrow path through them that he could take, and before Nathyrra could warn him about it, he and Solaufein were both charging down it at full speed, just about ready to kill everything in their path in order to get back their hard-earned gear. Nathyrra had forgotten that nearly everyone had received similar enchantments as what she and Solaufein had, except Binne who had politely refused 'speedy-gear' because she was an 'uncoordinated oaf on a good day.'

Nathyrra held back with Binne, Deekin, and Aribeth, and sighed at the return to their usual form. Their handling of the ice trolls and demons so far had been with such excellence, that she forgot about their idiom. Binne couldn't suppress her laughter anymore and started snorting uncontrollably, then coughing from the smoke, and then laughing some more in-between coughs until she calmed down. When she did, she placed a hand on Boon's head (who was quite comfortable with the heat) and suggested, "Well, we should probably go after them, aye?"

Nathyrra turned to Aribeth, whose eyes were unstung by the smoke. "Lady Aribeth, can you see them ahead?"

Aribeth squinted. "They are not far. They are running about and activating strange levers on the ground, which seem to emit . . . Jewels? And then the mimic eats them? What in all the Hells . . . ?" Aribeth trailed off uncertainly.

"I'm sure whatever nonsense this is, they can handle it," Binne said with confidence. "It can't be worse than a dracolich."

"A dracolich?" Aribeth queried, distracted.

Deekin perked up. "Ooh! Deekin tell this one. This one be good storys . . ."

As Deekin rambled on, Nathyrra peered through the waves of heat and smoke distorting the air and eventually heard a strange, awful, demonic scream that brought them all up short. Barely a moment later, Solaufein was back in his armor holding a strange appendage with what appeared to be hand of purple flesh on the end of it, and Valen had Devil's Bane back in its holster along with armfuls of what appeared to be enchanted and strange items. "That mimic had to die, and left this behind," Valen said nonchalantly and dumped it all at Deekin's feet.

"He better not have scuffed me in his stomach. What a wretched experience!" Enserric chimed.

Deekin abruptly stopped in his retelling to examine the gear, and as Nathyrra moved to help him, Binne resumed Deekin's story with more accuracy, and more profanity.

By the time Binne had reached the end of her tale, Aribeth was baffled. "I cannot believe Mephistopheles did not take advantage of this dracolich in his bid for power."

"Oh, he probably tried, which is why we put an end to it," Binne summarized. "Who knows what that dracolich was really about anyway? Vix'thra was hardly the chattiest dragon. Nothing like that blue bartender."

They decided to take their loot and sort it out back in the cavern, where there was less smoke from the lava. Strangest off all was Solaufein's grim trophy, which seemed to have a life of its own and would randomly twitch when the sliced part of the appendage was fiddled with. Nathyrra decided to examine it first, and to her surprise, discovered a useful quality to the strange, severed hand/tongue - that if it was wielded as a weapon, it could be thrown and grip anything it was aimed at. It very nearly stole Solaufein's armor again before Nathyrra discovered how to control this ability, by letting it go slack and peeling it carefully off its intended target.

"This is the goriest, strangest lasso I've ever seen," Binne commented as they made their way out of the cave and back outside. "What should we do with it?"

"I want to see if we can use it to scale the cliff. Perhaps by attaching a rope to it, we can climb across whatever it grips," Nathyrra reasoned.

"I want to agree with you, but I don't want to touch it," Binne complained. "It's just so . . . Yick!"

Nathyrra stared at her for a moment, confused, as she recalled, "You disemboweled a bebilith to acquire its organs to bind it in a ritual, but this is where you draw the line?"

Binne laughed. Boon came up beside her and nudged her elbow with his nose, causing her to instinctively reach down and pet him. "Well I feel silly when you put it like that," she conceded.

There was a ledge that they could not cross without proper equipment, and a cliff before their eyes that would be no trouble to skilled mountaineers, of which they were not. They were, however, able to purchase ample supplies of long rope from the d'jinn in Solaufein's pocket (and why did everything strange and cursed happen to be in his pocket? Was there room to discuss this with him?) and were able to identify and trade the gear they'd taken from the mimic's cavern so it did not weigh them down as they attempted to scale the crevasse and go up the cliff. Nathyrra tied tight nooses around the demonic hand, keeping it locked in her grip as she held the severed end of it and secured the rope as she went up the initial ascent.

It was quite a task and included several failed attempted before she got the hang of it. Privately she wondered why Solaufein was not doing this task, as he seemed happy enough to leave it to her, but then she was not certain that she trusted anyone else to do it right. Once she got the hang of it, Solaufein took it upon himself to scale the rope attached to the hand first, and largely ignored the un-ignorable fact that the hand had extended magically across the chasm and up the ridge to grip on a secure rock outcropping at the top that Nathyrra had spotted. Everyone else was completely baffled with this feature of the strange limb, but Nathyrra eventually shrugged and went about it Solaufein's way, wasting no time pondering the strangeness of her life. She was in Hell. It was nothing compared to their recent misadventures, really.

She tied the severed end of the mimic's appendage to her belt and scaled after Solaufein, with Aribeth behind her and Deekin last. They had to leave Boon behind since he could not climb, and Binne reasoned that when they reached a more secure location she could summon him again, which seemed to make Boon happy. He trotted off back to the caves to take a nap while Binne and Valen climbed the rope up and across. She and Valen helped pull everyone up, even as the winds began to whip around them, bitterly chilling them all. Once again, only Aribeth seemed unbothered - the lost soul had grown used to the chill in her time in Cania, and likely adjusted on account of being frozen so long.

Nathyrra scouted ahead briefly with Jo's ring and noted the presence of many ice trolls. As she went back to warn everyone about them, she felt confident that they could overtake their enemies with stealth on their side, on account of the winds disguising their sounds and erasing most of their tracks. Deekin put them all under a spell of invisibility and they crept ahead, mindful of the sound of their weapons being unsheathed. Just around a bend of rock around an obviously unused path was an ice troll shaman and his tribe, gnawing on a fresh wolven kill.

She had counted the enemy's numbers and knew they would attack on sight. Invisibly, she crept up behind the shaman - she had volunteered to take care of this assassination herself - and quickly and suddenly ripped her short sword out of his throat, sealing the wound with a spell of burning hands. Solaufein executed a simultaneous, silent, and nearly identical kill on one of the larger members of the troll's tribe, and Nathyrra could quite easily believe that he was an assassin in his day. He was nothing if not efficient in his movement. Valen on the other hand had less finesse and simply destroyed the head of his, throwing stealth out the window instantly as the three of them popped into visibility.

Binne had been hiding behind a rock, chanting in Abyssal as she summoned Hugo right on top of another troll, not really desiring to engage more trolls one-on-one as in her words she'd 'had plenty of taste of that before, so fuck that idea, I'll just summon something.' It was not as effective as her scythe, but it was significantly more dramatic and distracting for the other trolls, which was to their party's advantage.

Deekin started firing firebolts into the midst of the trolls as they all tried to descend on the mad baatezu, who simply floated above them and cackled as a stoneskin slid over his features, turning him into a laughing, nude gargoyle. Solaufein and Valen went to work immediately killing trolls left and right and sealing them with velox fire beads that they'd produce by snapping a berry onto the wound and hitting it again. It made their blows fiery and explosive. Binne began to fire entropic javelins as Aribeth charged in with the others and raised her sword high, while Nathyrra stood back, reassessed, and decided this was the improper angle. She summoned a shadow door and scurried around the battle quickly, getting to the other side of the crowd of trolls and re-counted them quickly. She saw some trolls fleeing into the hills while only the strong and older ones remained behind, and determined they were about to win - if not the war than at least this battle.

She cut her way through the other side to her allies and re-joined them, and they made short work of the rest. She cast a few more burning hands, but all in all had used very little of her repertoire in the battle and felt good about their improvements. There was not much of value on the trolls, so they took a moment in the troll's area of shelter against the wind to build a small velox fire and eat to keep up their energy. When they were finished, Nathyrra led the way by following the red arrows in her ring-enchanted violet gaze through the snow and toward another astral door.

They linked hands, and entered without hesitation (except for Valen, who had to be almost dragged in, and lectured everyone within earshot about the dangers of entering strange astral doors).

What greeted them on the other side of it was not something Nathyrra could have ever predicted. Initially she felt relieved as they suddenly entered a dim cavern lit with low visible lighting. As Nathyrra slid into the spectrum of heat she detected four life forms immediately in front of them. All but one were humanoid, while a minotaur hulked over the others. It had been some time since they had seen other living beings - at least since the lost city - that the sight of them immediately put Nathyrra on edge. Everything else had attacked them in their path after all, so why should this situation be any different? She calmed herself when she remembered Eilistraee's teachings and recognized that violence was not always the first answer.

The other group however had something else on their minds. "YOU!" One of them cried out and pointed a finger directly at Binne.

She looked very baffled. "Me?" She pointed at herself and looked at all of them. "You sure you don't mean him?" She pointed at Solaufein.

It was a bald, angry dwarf that had pointed accusingly at her. Judging from his attire he was a monk, of what order Nathyrra could not immediately identify, but he seemed decidedly un-monk-like in that moment, almost literally snarling at Binne. "You don't even remember me!" He shot out, maddened.

"I—Sure I do! You're—! Uh," she trailed off.

"Grimgnaw?" Aribeth identified, and Nathyrra was now even more confused. As if sensing her confusion, Aribeth went on, "This was a monk of the Long Death Order that aided Neverwinter during the plague. I believe he died in combat, however."

"Combat?!" Grimgnaw seemed offended. "COMBAT?!"

"Ah, Aribeth," another one of the humanoid figures spoke up. "We meet again, at last." It seemed an idiotic thing to say, and Aribeth seemed to agree as she squinted at the figure, and then seemed horrified by what she saw.

"Maugrim?" Aribeth intoned. Then, she smirked. "Ah, of course you would find your way to Cania. You belong here as much as I do," she assessed.

"Oho, I have loftier ambitions than when you last—" Maugrim was about to say, but Grimgnaw interrupted him.

"You set me on FIRE!" Grimgnaw couldn't contain himself and pointed at Binne again, who seemed like she was taking what he was saying seriously and may have even believed it, but also half-didn't. "You set me on fire and dropped my body off to a bunch of TYRRANS! YOU AND THAT FUCKING RANGER! How do you not remember someone you set on fire while laughing?!"

"Oh, I think I remember that," Binne vaguely recalled, tapping her chin. "Yeah, that was my doing, I thought that'd be funny but I was sure they'd treat you right since they were, you know, they weren't Helmites. Also rum was the drink of choice that day, I believe."

"Was it?" Valen said dubiously, with amusement.

"I remember now, it took me a second," Binne reassured everyone in earshot.

"TYRRANS?!" Grimgnaw couldn't get over this fact, apparently.

"Well, yeah, remember all the fake ones that were running about?" Binne went on, ignoring Grimgnaw's growing fury. "Anyway, technically Bishop was the one who killed you with the arrow through the eye, I was just the one who set you on fire when you attacked him. After he repeatedly insulted you. Ahem. If you'll recall."

Grimgnaw apparently did not, or simply had a different recollection of the events. Either way, his expression indicated he was ready for combat and made Nathyrra instinctively draw her short sword. "Prepare for the embrace of the long death," he hissed at the slightly affronted-Binne.

"Now Grimgnaw, those who swear allegiance to us will—" Maugrim tried to steal focus, but Grimgnaw was having none of it.

"Balpheron, Koth, Crimson?" Grimgnaw intoned. "Kill them all, and Maugrim too if he doesn't shut up."

"I knew that one would bite me in the arse one day!" Binne complained, drawing her scythe. She hissed out an Abyssal command and Boon returned to her side. "Sic 'em!" She commanded, pointing at Grimgnaw, who had to face down a vicious hellhound with a maw of hellfire and doubled backward, only to meet Solaufein who sped right up to him and bore down Enserric. The cackling sword was repelled by the monk's bracers, and the battle was on.

Nathyrra directed her attention immediately to the lich that she spied amongst them, abruptly realizing that this was because he was undead and she had not bothered with the visible spectrum until that moment. One could not mistake a name like 'Balpheron,' however. She knew the monster would already have some kind of magic immunity in effect, so her window for taking him out was short. She had no doubt that he had already cast True Seeing on himself, so she did not waste time on invisibility and called out to Valen to aid her. The tiefling, thanks to the new enchantment, swiftly caught up to her and together they began to bash and batter the lich into a state of complete distraction before he could fire off a single necromantic spell. Valen did more damage than she with his twin flail heads, and soon the lich was completely destroyed. It would take the lich time to commission himself a new body, but without knowing the location of his phylactery, Nathyrra knew it would not be the end of him forever.

She relied on the battle instincts of the others to direct them to the areas of most need - Deekin had already cloned magical bodies of himself and they were running about causing distractions, while Aribeth sized up the minotaur and charged him without fear. Binne dropped her Eryines on the head of Maugrim, which kept him occupied and prevented him from healing his allies.

Nathyrra felt something pierce her shoulder behind her pauldron - it was a bolt, fired from afar. She followed its source to a rogue hiding in near invisibility, firing crossbow bolts into the fray. Nathyrra yanked the bolt out immediately and drank a potion in her belt, and quickly twisted the purple dragon ring around her finger that was enchanted to neutralize poisons when activated - a necessary item for a Red Sister.

Solaufein was matching the monk blow-for-blow, nearly - although neither one of them were able to get significant strikes in. Ultimately it was Boon who ended the battle by burping fire onto the monk and causing him to panic, which gave Solaufein the opportunity to test Enserric's fine edge on Grimgnaw's neck. His head went sailing through the air and landed near the minotaur, who tripped over it and nearly fell onto Aribeth's sword. He caught himself at the last second but ultimately he was too top-heavy and he toppled right over Nathyrra, who suddenly found herself floating in the air above the battle the size of a pixie, no doubt due to the polymorphing amulet that happened to function at only the most convenient of times. As a result, the minotaur rolled and landed at Binne's feet who quickly ended his life with her scythe across his throat.

"Now this is more our style," Binne cheered just as a poisoned bolt glanced off of her helmet. "See? Helmets are useful, Valen!" She said pointedly.

Valen seemed to answer this by charging and head-butting the rogue that had been firing on them from afar and ended her life rather violently in a swift twist of his flail that resulted in her head nearly falling off her shoulders. He turned back to them at a much calmer pace as his eyes had flickered to red for a moment, and then came back to blue when he was closer to them all.

"I guess it makes head-butting less fun though," Binne conceded with a thoughtful nod.

Nathyrra had been paying less attention during the battle, but now that she was calm enough, she noted that she still perceived the coalescing red arrows leading them further into the cavern that they'd found themselves in. More curious than driven, she offered to scout ahead while the others laughed at her size and appearance and got to looting and trading with the d'jinn; she decided to take advantage of it while it lasted and flitted ahead, flickering into invisibility as she did. Operating the wings of her tiny body was as instinctive as casting the spell - it seemed her abilities had changed as well as her body.

She noted a large door that was too heavy for her to move in her small form, so she went back to report to the others and mid-sentence found herself back in her normal, dhaerow body. "I was wondering how long that polymorph would last," she commented.

"Oh good, I can understand you now," Binne said with much relief. "It's impossible to make you out when you're just a chittering pixie."

"Considering your history with pixies . . ." Solaufein trailed off, and Binne's eyes widened as she shushed him.

"What did you see?" Valen asked.

"The path leads on. There is a door in the way."

"In the cave? A cave-door?" Binne was confused, and then alarmed. "Oh, bloody Hells. Are we back in Undermountain?"

"No, this is Baator," Valen assured her, and then sniffed the air distastefully. "And it definitely still smells like Baator."

"That has to be a dungeon door," Binne insisted, turning back to Nathyrra. "We're in for some kind of Hell-puzzle, I bet. Like the mimic, but worse. It always gets worse the further down you go. I bet there's fire traps - lightning traps! Sonic traps! LAVA traps! Lava where floor should be and floor where there should be lava!"

"This is not Undermountain," Solaufein objected.

"All dungeons are built the same!" She argued.

Binne could not have been more right. When Binne, Valen, and Aribeth pressed on the heavy door to open it (as she, Solaufein, and the hellhound stood back with Deekin and watched them struggle with some innate amusement), they were greeted by a heat wave and the sight of a strange and wide room situated on top of a small lava lake. The heat was intense to the point of instant discomfort, and bolts began to thud at their feet as some guardian or enemy must have perceived them. Afraid to slip into the heat spectrum, Nathyrra squinted up at where the shots were being fired and saw winged beings, much like Eryines, floating about and firing projectiles at the interlopers.

They backed out immediately and formed a plan. Binne summoned her Eryines, Deekin an elder air elemental to disrupt their enemies' flight, and Nathyrra spelled everyone else under invisibility while she prepared her only ranged weapon that she had rarely had to use, if at all - a small, foldable crossbow she kept with poison bolts as a standard dark elven sidearm. She knew their lack of ranged weapons would be a liability in this battle, and they were relying on protecting Deekin as much as possible, who quaffed a potion that granted him eagle's sight, and cast a spell of true-strike on himself.

As they went back in, Binne first triggered herself back into visibility as she cast a spell into the general area where most of their winged enemies were flying, flinging a spell of horror and confusion that reacted differently and violently to all five that it caught in its fray. One flew straight into the lava, on purpose, and started to scream and sizzle away. One started attacking the individual next to him who had no choice but to defend. Another ambled off in a random direction, and one was seemingly unaffected until she began to laugh uncontrollably and lost the ability to operate her wings in her hilarity, tumbling down to the ground where Valen rushed forward and instantly killed her.

The air elemental took advantage of the waves of heat disrupting the air and redirected a few of them, who collided into each other or simply drifted away. Two were forced to land and pressed their attack on Binne and Valen, the only visible enemies, only to be intercepted by Solaufein and Aribeth with their swords. Aribeth shined and Enserric cackled as they flickered into the visible spectrum and their strikes landed, Aribeth impaling one through the chest and Solaufein quickly beheading the other.

There had been approximately eleven of them - Nathyrra had not had time to precisely count during their initial retreat. Losing seven of their number already must have disheartened them, because no others approached and a few flew away into the distance, possibly to regroup. Nathyrra counted it as a victory and fired at the retreating enemies with Deekin, successfully hitting and slowing down at least one with her poison.

"Well-planned," Aribeth spoke up, looking to Nathyrra. Indeed, suddenly everyone was looking at her, and agreeing with Aribeth's sentiment, which made Nathyrra flush.

"We should press on, the arrows indicate the path is across this lake somehow," Nathyrra told them as she watched the red arrows point over their heads toward opposite end of the room.

Binne did the opposite of volunteer, saying, "I'm not doing it, if it's another lightning puzzle."

Nathyrra shrugged and examined their surroundings. "I am certain we can deduce the secrets of this place." Though there were inaccessible floating platforms, a lever did exist on their side that was installed into the floor and begged to be moved. She approached.

"Hitting strange levers is a sure fire way to get yourself teleported back to the beginning, or roasted, speaking from personal experience in Undermountain here," Binne commented as she worriedly followed Nathyrra to the lever.

Nathyrra glanced down at one of her rings - a pilfered ring of elemental resistance from one of their enemies. She felt safe enough and looked back to the others. "Shall we?" She offered.

Though Binne looked very nervous about it, Solaufein nodded, speaking for all of them as everyone tended to defer to him (with the exception of Binne who couldn't contain her colorful opinions most of the time). "Xun ol, xun ol," he repeated to her, gripping the hilt of his sword as he naturally anticipating more flying enemies descending upon them at a moment's notice.

"Asanque," she agreed, and yanked on the lever with all her might when it initially wouldn't budge. With a rusty thud, it clicked into place and suddenly Nathyrra was somewhere even hotter - in the middle of the lake on a platform, with stars in her vision. She cleared her head by shaking it and realized a spell of teleportation had been attached to the lever's activation. On the small platform she had been transported to was an arrow on the ground, pointing to another platform, just as the arrow quickly shifted on the ground soundlessly to another platform. She stood next to another lever and knew immediately what she had to do.

It was a simple matter to get all the arrows aligned, or rather wait until their rotations could be disrupted enough by her transportation that they would align. She found her way to the other side, and back to the beginning, and reported back to the others that she had discovered the path quickly. As the arrows glowed blue, they teleported their way across to the other side of the platforms and finally to where the red arrows were pointing her - yet another door, leading to yet another type of dungeon. Once more they had to leave Boon behind, but the hellhound knew the drill and seemed content in the heat of the lava-room, curling up next to a flow to take a nap.

The next room had no platforms, and even more winged puzzle-guardians tossing crossbow bolts at them. They were prepared for resistance this time however, and the most heavily armored of their number - Valen, Solaufein, and Aribeth - stood guard over Deekin, Nathyrra, and Binne as they spell-casted and fired bolts and magical arrows at the enemy until they scattered.

Despite the lack of platforms in this room, Nathyrra was able to work a way to travel via the demonic mimic's appendage, which allowed them to skirt the edges of the room and cling to chains that were dangling uselessly from the ceiling as evidence of this strange dungeon perhaps having another purpose. Following the red arrows once more, Nathyrra led the way with her violet gaze from Jo's ring and landed them right in the path of a death Slaadi.

Though the black Slaadi was a fierce foe, he was no match for them and their swords sliced through him with ease. Valen didn't even break a sweat or land hardly any blows, and Nathyrra only landed one before Aribeth and Binne quickly finished the creature off, finding themselves immune to its death fog when Nathyrra dispersed it with a simple spell of redirecting winds, and slicing up through its neck and neatly gutting it in a blissful display of teamwork. Binne even high-fived the confused Aribeth after it, and together - after Deekin stopped them all for a moment to take note of their progress while they had a bite to eat - they entered the last room, fully expecting to find themselves in another lava-puzzle.

Instead, what they saw through that gateway gave them pause. Valen most of all literally paused, refusing at first to enter the mysterious doorway that led into utter darkness while the rest of them forged on fearlessly. He trailed behind, bumping into Deekin's back as he entered the new dimension they'd found themselves in. There was no lava, nor were there any enemies, only a wide and stone columnar room lit like twilight by floating mage lights that surrounded them over their heads.

Nathyrra stared at the floor, where a final red arrow was coalescing and leading them on, pointing to the center of the room. "DUCK!" Binne suddenly cried as a tree flew over their heads and into the walls, where it met no resistance and passed through quite easily. It was followed by a tall sandstone tower in the opposite direction, that barely stirred the hair underneath Nathyrra's hood as it whipped by and also passed through the walls.

"Alright, what the bloody Hells is this nonsense?" Binne demanded to know.

"That tree . . . !" Aribeth seemed haunted.

"What, did that tree kill your parents?" Binne guessed.

"No, don't be ridiculous, my parents were killed by orcs," Aribeth dismissed. "No, I recognize that tree that flew by, from Neverwinter Wood!"

"You memorize all the trees in the Wood, do you? Fucking elves," Binne muttered to Valen's chuckling amusement.

"That one in particular was the tree Fenthick first kissed me by," Aribeth went on, trembling slightly as she summoned a long-resting memory. "When he died, I went there to that tree, and laid in its roots, I cried for what felt like days and I knew I could never be a paladin again. I don't understand how it could be here, in this strange place."

Solaufein meanwhile was staring after the tower that had flown by, and quickly ducked under a floating podium at a more leisurely pace that careened in and through the walls. He seemed disturbed. "Let us be done with this place as soon as possible," he declared.

"Agreed," Aribeth nodded firmly, still staring after the disappeared tree. Deekin immediately tore out his journal and started scribbling notes.

Nathyrra stepped forward, hearing the others back her up, and followed the arrow to the center of the room. There, sitting on a small platform, was what appeared to be a butterfly-winged pixie with short blond hair, stubby legs and arms, and a cherubic face. She was watching the floating objects idly, with dispassion, and did not seem to make note of their appearance.

Nathyrra cleared her throat. The pixie flew up into the air and turned around quickly, but her eyes did not seem to see them, glazed over and suddenly fixated on the ring on Nathyrra's hand. "Tired of waiting, planetar?" she addressed Nathyrra only in a voice that piped high but cracked from disuse. "Tired of waiting and now twice you've found me? I only have one answer for you."

"I am not a planetar," Nathyrra gently corrected. "You are the Knower of Places, yes?"

"Well, you're wearing his ring, aren't you?" The pixie snorted. "You wear his ring, you ask his questions, so you are the planetar. I know things, so I'm the Knower."

"That certainly solves that identity crisis," Binne laughed. "I think she's barmy. Just our luck—"

"Ooooh, but you're new!" The pixie, now identified as the Knower of Places, fluttered her blue butterfly's wings over their heads and passed over one of the floating, flying projectiles they'd been dodging to land neatly on Valen's surprised shoulder.

"Excuse me?" the tiefling nearly begged. He leaned his head far away from his own shoulder and seemed affronted by the attention he was getting. The Knower of Places untied Valen's ponytail and ran her small fingers through his hair, much to Valen's chagrin, and buried her face in his crimson locks with a sigh.

"You smell like the outside!" said the Knower more lucidly, and with glee. "You're not the planetar, no, no, no. Tell me, do you have a question?" She addressed Valen alone, with wide, adoring eyes.

Valen didn't seem to know what to do with this attention and looked to Solaufein for help, who was busy bending over in rasping, quiet laughter to answer Valen. Eventually Valen spoke up, still leaning, and said carefully, "We're trying to find where the Knower of Names is."

"Oh, you don't want to know that," the Knower of Places said dismissively over the sound of Deekin's scratching. "She's so boring. Not like me. She was the youngest of us, born after the devils claimed the ice of Cania . . . An ancient baatorian like me. But then she caught his eye . . . And then once you know, I'll become more like the question, and you'll leave me all alone here! I can't have that, not when I've just found you!"

"Should I be jealous?" Binne laughed, and Valen glared at her.

"Help me!" He hissed.

"You said she caught 'his' eye?" Binne cleared her throat, seeking clarification. "You don't mean—"

"Mephistopheles," the Knower sighed. "Our sister loved too fast, too passionately, too—"

"Ew, I don't need to hear about my father's past relationships, thank you," Binne interrupted. "You've satisfied my curiosity."

"Please," Aribeth interjected, drawing in close to seek out the suddenly shy Knower's eyes, who sheltered herself in Valen's crimson hair. Valen flushed. "Please help us," Aribeth pleaded. "The fate of a world depends on us finding the Knower of Names."

"Hmmm . . ." The Knower thought about it for a few seconds, before saying, "No. I already gave you an answer, planetar."

"We're obviously not planetars, you barmy baatorian," Binne said tiredly. "Is there anything we can offer you in exchange for an answer, besides Valen? We sort of need him."

"Sort of?" Valen seemed mildly upset.

The Knower thought about it again, looked pointedly at Nathyrra, and then extended her hand toward Nathyrra and twisted her fingers in an arcane gesture. Nathyrra felt tingling in her hand and glanced down at the puzzle ring, which had become bound by black, shadowy tendrils to her startle. "This fourth band I have fashioned you will lead you to her, as it has led you faithfully to me," said the Knower. "I cannot tell you where she is, but this will lead you to her. Is that what you seek?" She seemed petulant, and not at all eager to let them leave.

Solaufein nodded and seemed more at ease. "Very well. Thank you for your aid. Valen, stay here and keep her company - we will return for you." Solaufein turned on his heel, as if to leave the room while Valen stared after him, shocked.

"Wait, no!" Valen objected.

Binne started laughing. "Ah, it'll be alright!" She jested. "I'm sure you'll make all sorts of cute little pixie babies in the meantime while we're off gallivanting. See you later, Valen."

"Very funny," he glared.

After she and Solaufein had a good laugh at his expense (that Nathyrra also chuckled at but tried not to, because Valen was glaring at her), they managed to shoo away the Knower of Places from his shoulder and out of his hair. The Knower of Places fluttered back to her place sullenly but perked up when Valen promised - against his will and at Aribeth's suggestion - that he reassure the Knower that they would return to her after they found the Knower of Names, and free her from this dimension.

"I like this dimension!" The Knower objected, as she was visually bisected by a flying post that they had to dodge but passed right through her without stopping like she were made of air. "I made it so I could escape Cania, why would I want to go back there? Just leave me!" She sobbed into her hands wildly suddenly and seemed to despair. The black and shining band on Nathyrra's hand pulsed with energy.

Nathyrra approached her and placed a gentle hand on the Knower's shoulder, which seemed to calm her down. "I just kept hoping my planetar would come back to me," the Knower of Places finally said. "I told him what he wanted, and he left after promising he would stay. Everyone always leaves me."

"What is it that you want?" Nathyrra wondered.

"Someone to stay," she sniffled.

Binne summoned Boon in that moment and the hellhound paced a bit before approaching the Knower at Binne's direction and butting the leg and hand of the pixie-like woman. She giggled and petted the hound, smiling despite herself. "Boon will keep you company until we come back," Binne promised. "And we won't take you back to Cania. Somewhere else. Promises."

The Knower buried her hands and face in Boon's fur and nodded absently, and they took this as their cue to leave.

Red arrows had disappeared from Nathyrra's violet vision, and this time they were black. They pointed to a small portal that had opened at the end of the room, that led away from where they came and seemed to emit the occasional bout of windy snowdrift. As they approached, Binne sighed. "Back to the wastes, aye?" She groaned.

Valen tied up his hair once more and seemed back to himself. "Whatever we face, we can conquer," he assured her grimly.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. I'm just worried that this other Knower will be barmier than that one," she bemoaned.

"Always a risk," Valen conceded with a smirk, "but what are the odds of that?"

She glared at him. "Thanks, Valen. Now you've gone and cursed us."

"No, that's Solaufein's job," he pointed out, ignoring the male dark elf's pointed glare.

Nathyrra smiled, opened the door - knowing to pull this time rather than push - and led them through to the deeper, perhaps deepest wastes of Cania, where the bitter cold that assaulted them chilled them almost instantly to the bone, and the ragged and unforgiving landscape took no mercy upon its inhabitants. Closer to their goal through a path Nathyrra could not have predicted even while on morimatra, they were all eager to see the end of the puzzles, tricks, and enemies. So they pressed on, occasionally stopping to warm up near a velox fire or to pick from a nearby bush while Deekin crackled his gloved little fingers over his notes. He had to request that Aribeth take notes for him, since her fingers were not affected by the cold in the same way, so she briefly took over for the little bard while he rested his hands and wrote what he dictated to her in a neat, pointed script while they rested for but a moment. As the former paladin made record of their accomplishments (according to Deekin), Nathyrra bundled herself up, thanked Eilistraee for her ring of elemental resistance, and prayed they would live to see the end of their journey through this Hell.

---

Drow-to-Common Dictionary:

Vel'bol nempori ap'za . . . Alright, what sick fuck put a library in the middle of Hell, and why? (Solaufein is dyslexic)
Ol zhah ulu . . . To punish you, I presume
Elgg uns'aa . . . Kill me now
Ussta keeshe . . . I sharpened my dagger this morning, hoping you might say that
Dalninil, Dalninuk . . . Sister, brother
Shar'krrja . . . In context, a puzzle ring
Vel'bol xondyerna . . . Dammit, what fresh fucking hell is this?
Xun ol . . . Dooooo it do it do it do it
Asanque . . . Alright, alright I'm doing it