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11.20.22

Blade & Bow, Hammer & Axe

by Steel Claw

So, in a way, Nord is back. He is twined, somehow, with M'Crush -- and would like to free M'Crush's soul in Stygia as well.
 
At home, Dazim Frey has finished his painting, and we have a gate to Stygia via Ibrithil.

 
We met in the same cafe, quietly talking. Once Nord arrived, he and I laid out my most recent works:
 
For Milo, bracers of defense styled after Nord's armor of Vrianna, and a new blessing of infused enhancement on his greatsword. For his contingency,
 
For Murg, an improvement to his giants' belt, for greater constitution, and a layer of enchantments on his cloak to sharpen his mind at all times. For his contingency,
 
For Theo, a pendant of Vrianna as a periapt of wound closure would function, and an enhancement to his moon-touched focus to focus his magics. For his contingency,
 
And for myself, aside from the two newest editions of the Claw & Fang, my Oathbow of Vrianna -- Vrianna's Truth, the Sharptooth, the bow of Prince Steel Claw. It was my focus, my
 
 
 
After that, we collected Dazim and headed toward Ibrithil. Via teleportation we made to Grandwatch, and though we were warmly welcomed, we had to bring some associates with us to hell.
 
Theo called on Ciarcias, to get us to the altar of Gadazh in the mountains near Eastgate. He obliged, so long as Murg saw to his comfort at Hrothamari's peak.
 
And so we flew.
 

Judges Calumnai & Tylarus


The altar was protected by a demon, who called herself "judge". She stood, waiting, in the melting and refreezing snow, and taunted us. "Champion of Glasya am I," Calumnai called herself.
 
And at her side, Tylarus, a demon that had assaulted Milo and Murg prior.
 
When prompted, the pair asked for a tribute. Dazim offered his painting -- which they accepted.
 
For the second half of their tribute, they drew blade and bow. It was no match. They surrendered, far earlier than I would have thought, and we collected ourselves.
 


 

Welcome to the Nine Hells


Thousands of devils greeted us, watching from near and afar on the stones as far as the eye could see. This part of the hells was red stone and a brackish fog. Here, Tylarus and Calumnai greeted us in their full demonic splendor: "Welcome to Malbolge." The erinyes curtly explained that our trip lay only to Glasya's halls, and to nowhere else.
 
The very stone we stood upon was our ferry, flying us towards Glasya's halls with the twin judges as our burning escorts. The erinyes left us as the threshold -- the red stone porticulus -- to fly inwards and 'let' us inside. The dead welcomed us, with fountains of magma inside obsidian tombs.
 
And there, atop her black throne, a veritable god within her realm, sat Glasya, Queen of Malbolge, Rule of the Sixth Layer, and Daughter of Asmodeus. At her side stood her duke Tartach.
 
Our Auditor of Abadar spoke for the Vanguard: "We are here for the name of your father, to banish him from our plane." She was not pleased, to say the most very least. But thanks to Murg's preparations, she was bound by the code of the devils themselves and Murg's -- our -- transaction.
 
"Dispater," she spat. "The Second Archdevil. That is whom you will speak to." She paused. "But when he is finished with you, you will return here. And then I will have my way with you." A burning ring erupted in the middle of her throne room, and at her behest we strode in one by one.
 


 
When the fires lowered, we found ourselves in a cell overlooking the impossibly tall tower of Dis. The iron city was infinite, with iron guards roaming to smite any and all things that moved -- immortal or not. And behind us: the Iron Tower, where Dispater sat in his throne room.
 
Except he hovered behind us, the Master of Lies in appearance, next to us. And with him, the chained form of our lost, the withered M'Crush.
 
Each of us, in turn, nearly passed out.
 
Again, Murg spoke: but it was Dispater who spun his own fate. "I am compelled by the order of the cosmos to surrender the tortle." He explained, having done the reasoning himself, that M'Crush's soul -- a part of which that Nord now holds -- is owned truly by the twin lords of Stygia, Eros and NAME, the gods of death. Dispater believed that Nord was here to enforce the gods' claim to M'Crush -- the tortle was already dead, and they had allowed his soul to walk the material plane again.
 
As for Asmodeus' claim, Dispater wanted a gift instead, "and the wizard will be the one I speak with. Not you, mouthpiece of Abadar."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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