The Hammer and the Devils

In point of fact, Sack had wandered off rather further than the other two guessed. Uninterested in the displays of combat skill being given in the arena, the half-orc had flipped himself back to Vorsand, intending to pick up the arrows Skufruss was building for the group. Alighting as usual in the town, he made his way to Skufruss' tower, noting with some surprise that the imposing pinnacle was nearly complete.

Reaching the door, he was greeted, not by the Lord of Dragons himself as usual, but one of his most trusted followers, Bruukr.

Bruukr was a wily operator and a fantastic organizer, easily capable of handling the everyday running of Vorsand, and probably much more than that as Skufruss' empire expanded. Her grasp of procedure and protocol was first-rate, and she was an expert negotiator. The fact that she was stunningly beautiful, for all that she had a clear something in her ancestry from the lower planes, didn't detract from her capabilities, though it sometimes distracted males from perceiving them. Sack knew she'd also had some training in the art of the thief, for she understood cant and thiefsign.

With the rebuilding of Vorsand's fortifications and the construction of his tower, Skufruss had bestowed the post of Castellan on her. It was in this capacity that she came to meet Sack.

"The Lord of Dragons sends his apologies, Sir Sack," she began in her smoky contralto. "He is occupied with matters of High Magic, and offers you his hospitality until he is free to meet with you." Sack indicated that this was satisfactory, and was guided to a comfortable room within the tower, where he was invited to make himself at home.

As they passed through the corridors of the tower, Sack thought he caught a glimpse of a strange form, flitting through a side passage, its' form shifting shape and hue even as he watched. He started, and then remembered Hozzk. Hozzk was another of Skufruss' unusual retainers; a peculiar creature, of wildly morphic appearance - sometimes tall, sometimes short, and with an infinte variety of faces. Skufruss had said that even he was unsure what Hozzk's true form was; but the strange gangrel creature was arguably the best spy it was possible to conceive - able to appear as anyone.

Respecting his host's privacy, Sack made no attempts to break into significant areas of the tower that night. He did locate and open a secret door in his room, and followed the passage behind it for a while. It led to similar doors in each of the rooms on the level. Most were empty of course, but in five he found what were clearly apprentice wizards, studying under Skufruss. Four were human, but the fifth was a surprise - a Fae Mhor female. Her room showed signs of long occupancy, and she was not a prisoner; she seemed to be a genuine student. Her gear bore none of the house or clan symbols that were normally blazoned everywhere on Fae Mhor equipment, and Sack concluded that he was looking at some sort of renegade.

Sack returned to his room, reflecting on what he'd discovered.

The previous day had been uneventful, and when Sack awoke on the third day of his wait for the Kin Lord of Tarlanor, he was wondering how much dull waiting he could take. However, today was going to be anything but dull.

His first sensation was of a dull pressure behind his eyes. Gradually this developed into a headache, and eventually his training in minor magics identified the sensation. Somewhere in the tower, massive amounts of magical energy were being channeled.

This grew and grew, becoming almost unbearable, until near dusk, when suddenly there was a brief instant - the gap between two heartbeats - when all the magic vanished. For just that briefest instant, he felt his spells fall away from him, his magical equipment fail, his arcane abilities disappear. Then came the shockwave; a rush or surge through the arcanosphere, bringing back with it his powers, but bearing a resonance of some massive magical happening somewhere within the tower.

Then it was gone, and normalcy returned.

When he recovered himself, Sack realized he could hear slow, heavy footsteps. From outside the tower. Gradually it dawned on him how loud they must be to be audible from a closed room three floors up. Moving to the window, he looked down.

Below, in the courtyard, Skufruss was standing, speaking to another figure - giving orders, Sack realized. The creature he addressed was larger than the Kin. Much larger. A towering humanoid figure of shaped, fastened iron pieces a hundred feet high, it appeared to be a statue at first glance, but when Skufruss had finished speaking (Sack caught words like "Belamir" and "Destroy" and "without mercy"), the behemoth straightened and marched away, its' footfalls shaking the ground. Stepping over Vorsand's walls, it strode away southwards. Its' stride was slow, but huge; Sack reckoned it would be twenty miles or more away within the hour. Skufruss watched it out of sight.

A few minutes later, Skufruss entered Sack's room. The half-orc thought he looked tired and drawn, as if he'd expended a great deal of energy. None the less, he smiled at his vistor as he took a seat. Sack raised his eyebrows, and made a dumb show of stomping around the room, arms and legs held stiffly. Skufruss chuckled dryly. "So, you saw the Hammer," he said. Sack looked at him, and saw in his eyes the power of presence that had first struck him in Karennal, crackling with strength. "I will not take such insults from remnant races," continued the Kin. "I am who I am - my father's son and heir - and I have made my response."

Sack shrugged, and enquired by sign language whether - once the Elf Hammer had done its' current work - it would be any use against the vampires. Skufruss indicated a maybe with a rocked hand. "The average vampire is a solitary, stealthy hunter, dissolving into the flow of humanity in the night, hidden underground in the day. Whatever its' powers, the Elf Hammer is not very intelligent, and such foes are beyond it. What you describe, however, in Stryre - an undead army readied in a castle - is very much within its' capabilities. If this situation requires attention when its' current work is done, we can discuss it."

Sack, impressed anew by the Kin lord's ruthlessness and power, noted that he hoped Skufruss would remember who his friends were. Skufruss smiled thinly. "I made your arrows first," he said, producing them from ...somewhere... and handing them over. "That should reassure you. However, the creation of the Hammer drew much strength from me; it will be a while before I can make their like again. Use them wisely." He rose. "I am tired. Please excuse me, for I must rest." Sack thanked him, and left, leaping back across the miles to his rooms in Thornal.

The next morning, the three heroes arose to a well-cooked breakfast - Hansen the Bard was honouring his side of their agreement, and his cooking - originally rather poor - was improving all the time.

Hildraft and Surya asked Sack where he'd been the last few days, and he told them he'd been to see Skufruss, handing them their Arrows of Slaying. Their attention focussed and they asked him what the source of the magical surge yesterday had been - and what the Elf Hammer was. He shrugged, and signed that he'd been in a different room, and that the Hammer was "Big trouble for the elves"; all true, if economically true.

Surya turned his attention to bows. His constant regimen of excercise and battle had been developing his musculature, and he had reached the point where this - combined with his Bulls' Strength amulet - was making his longbow creak alarmingly when he drew it. He needed a bigger bow, and for that he needed a bowyer.

Stepping into the street, he found the lad Rolc near at hand as usual. The boy's prestige with his street-rat friends had clearly increased considerably as a result of being "in command" of the band of youths who'd watched the Vintares Gate before the battle there, and he clearly regarded the group as his passport to futher street credibility.

Surya asked the youth where the best bows could be bought in Thornal. Rolc narrowed his eyes, and reeled off half-a-dozen names of craftsmen and merchants, but admitted he knew little about archery or quality of make of bows, and suggested that Surya ask his "fighting friends" - such as Dran Trasutor - for a recommendation.

This seemed good advice, and Surya headed off to the Golden Fist academy. There, he discussed his needs with Dran, who directed him to the bowyer Maranus - one of the names on Rolc's list. "He's done work for us in the past," he commented.

As the Tellaran walked the streets, he realized that he'd become something of a celebrity in Thornal after his victory in the Games. Not everyone recognized him; his own equipment and armour was radically different to that in which he'd fought; but enough did that he was beginning to feel rather a celebrity by the time he reached the Craft district. Some, on recognizing him, smiled and congratulated him on his win; some gasped and drew back in fear. Nothing new there, then.

Arriving at the workshop, Surya found it a low, cramped building, filled with steam from the shaping of the bowstaves, and with various half-completed bows hanging from the ceiling. Maranus himself came to meet the Tellaran. Surya explained what he wanted, and Maranus measured him carefully for a bow to match his draw. Then Surya stopped him, explaining that he needed a bow beyond his normal strength. Maranus looked blank for a moment, then asked the warrior to invoke the magic so he could re-measure him. Money was discussed and agreed upon, and Surya headed off to his next stop.

Thornal had two major magical training centres; the Sorcerers' Guild and the Academy of Magic. There was little difference in size between them; no other school of the arcane arts in the world approached the size of either. Surya started with the nearest, and went to the Sorcerers' Guild.

There, he explained that he was having a bow made, and wished to have it enchanted with spells of accuracy and damage. The Guild representative he spoke to replied that he'd be glad to make a booking, but that the Guild Warsmith was very busy at the moment, and that it would be at least a month before he could address the project. Surya blinked at the man, and then stressed that money was no object here. The sorcerer shook his head. It wasn't a matter of money, he explained sententiously; it was a matter of prestige... Surya left, angered.

The Academy of Magic were more accessible; when the Tellaran produced enough money, the project was accepted with eagerness. Surya gave instructions for the transfer of the bow from Maranus' shop when it was ready, and went back to the rooms.

The next step was research. Surya and Hildraft repaired to the Library of Aderra, and commenced reading up on the Planes of Hell. Over the next few days, they scoured books of diabolic lore, searching for references to Avernus and Zerhal Avara. Sack, feeling more and more strongly that he didn't want to go along if the others went to the Lower Planes, took no part in this, instead releasing his tension by teleporting around Thornal and setting fires.

Their research turned up the following facts about Avernus.

"It [the Nine Hells] is the ultimate plane of Law and Evil, the epitome of premeditated, crafted cruelty. The devils of the Hells all obey a higher law than themselves, but all that really means is they chafe and rebel in their caste. Most undertake any plot or action, no matter how foul, to advance themselves. At the very top of the heirachy is Asmodeus, who has yet to be bested. That is the law of the Nine Hells."

The Nine Hells compete with anoy other lower plane for their sheer diversity of vileness. Devils are more cunning, more subtle, and more dangerous than any other fiends - so they say. A demon revels in slavering, insane, evil power, but a devil always has an agenda, a plan of attack, and a carefully conceived plan for retribution if necessary."

"Devils of every sort delight in making complex deals with travellers and with mortals on the Material Plane. Those dealing with a devil often live to regret it, even if they only live for a little while."

"Avernus is a hostile place, the first layer of the Nine Hells, and one of the major battlegrounds of the Blood Wars. A wasteland of charred, rubble-strewn plains, with mountains and talus-sided foothills breaking up the monotony. Legions of mail-clad devils are on perpetual watch here, always assembling for some new cross-planar Blood War sortie. Blood-red light suffuses the air, and fiery balls flit randomly across the sky, sometimes detonating to terrible effect. Runnels of blood flow in streams across Avernus, finally joining the River Styx. The origin of the blood is uncertain, though the devils claim it comes from Avernus’ mortal victims."

"The centre of the Bronze Citadel holds the personal fortress of Bel, a pit fiend of great power who controls Avernus; in addition to being a Lord of the First, Bel is also a general in the Blood War, though not one of the Dark Eight."

This description, grim as it was, caused Surya and Hildraft to start considering other possibilities for getting hold of Zero-One. Hildraft reflected on the magical powers with which Kord had equipped him, and recalled that fiends - demons, and devils - could be summoned onto the Prime Material Plane; where they were considerablky weaker than in their natural habitat. There were two ways of doing this; if the creature's True Name were known, it could be summoned perforce; if not, the would-be diabolist could open a Gate into the desired creature's presence. The target would then have the option of stepping through, if it so desired, in the few seconds the Gate would be open. Once through, the summoned devil must be dealt with by the summoner. Devils weaker than the caster could be controlled by the magic of the Gate; but somehow Hildraft doubted Zerhal would qualify for that.

One of the texts they'd read had mentioned something about True Names. They riffled back to it, and discovered that a devil's True Name might be known to some of its' trusted underlings, and would certainly be known to its' superior. Zerhal's superior would have to be Bel himself. They looked at each other. While neither fancied summoning Zerhal Avara himself - with Zero-One, he would still be a really tough opponent - maybe, if they summoned Bel himself, they could negotiate with him; either for Avara's True Name, or perhaps for the sword. Maybe they could convince the Lord of Avernus that his underling was plotting to unseat him with the Primal weapon.

Hildraft worked a Divination, asking Kord's advice as to whether their course of action was a good idea. The answer was two-fold; that it was incredibly dangerous, and that the wisdom of any bargain depended entirely on what they promised Bel in return for his assistance...

Sack had collected Billy the Bear and teleported to Vorsand. He had no doubts about whether this was a good idea or not!