Holy Opposites 65

Chapter Thirty-Six


	Vorthane looked up from his psychic node stone as the Ryairans kicked their way in.  “That door does tend to stick,” he said mildly, “but I doubt that was necessary.”

	I felt my skin crawl as I walked into the office at the end of the hallway.  It was brightly lit, decorated like a chapel, and utterly repulsive.  Knick-knacks packed all eight corners of the room, but they were all trophies of a sick mind.  One corner held a collection of dust jars that I couldn’t have forgotten anywhere – they were the remains of the children fed to the soul-extraction ritual.  Another had what looked like a chunk taken from a Beholder’s eyestalk, with no eye attached to either ragged end.  Another had a pile of what looked like common ivory, but which I could tell were pieces of a Hell-Herd’s skin.

	Worst was the large piece of black and red stone lodged in the far wall.  It pulsed with an energy that just felt wrong, like scraping fingers over sandpaper.  Two men stood beside the large wooden desk.  One looked like the woman Axio had killed below, all armor and blades, while the other looked like one of the security team they had fought by the portal in the basement.

	“I suppose you feel proud of undoing all my work,” the third man said from behind the desk.  “You haven’t, of course, Ryairan.  The souls we harvested from the Grist are feeding my master, even now.”

	“Why would anybody work for a god who demanded a sacrifice like that?” I snapped.

	“Because, girl, all things should strive to be more than they are.”  The old cleric leaned forward and his eyes flashed purple.  “As you shall be, when I lay you before my master.”

	“You don’t get to make threats, you meaningless fraction of a man,” Axio hissed, and he hurled his dart as hard as his deific muscles could propel it.  It slammed into the un-armored guard’s forehead so hard his skull turned concave, and he toppled back over the desk to land on the floor.

	I hurled my javelin at the armored guard, who deflected it on his breastplate, but not fast enough to dodge Kyria’s blast of eldritch fire.  He staggered and fell to one knee.


	Vorthane grimaced.  He had hoped he would not have to use his trump card in the first round, but so be it.  His eyes flashed again, and the stone on his wall pulsed black.

	The two drow fell to their feet in an instant, shrieking in agony.  The dark elf woman looked at them in confusion, and Vorthane shot her neatly in the head with his concealed hand crossbow.  The pulsing waves of energy from the stone were more than just psychic imprint waves, as a cursory examination would have revealed.  They were the psy-shock of Menzobarranzan itself, the death screams of the Illithids and duergar who had died in the ancient drow capital’s streets, collected from their roiling souls in the Blood Rift through years of careful effort on Vorthane’s part, and there was no drow alive who could withstand them.

	Axio roared his wrath at the old Baneite and sprang onto the desk, swinging his mighty blade.  Vorthane kicked off the desk and landed several feet out of range, then threw his hands up.  He knew a Paladin of Axiopistos’ level of power would be immune to disease, but perhaps not pain.  “Flame Strike!”


	Axio’s roar of anger turned to a howl of pain as a wall of fire engulfed him.  I finished off the armored guard with a blast of divine light from my glaive lodged in his flank, and rushed to the Eilistraeeans’ side.  Kyria was dying, that much was clear, but the other two were thrashing about, garbling their words and foaming at the mouth.  I looked around desperately for any source of their pain.

	Suivi grabbed my arm and pointed.  “The crystal!  It’s doing something!” he said urgently.  “Smash it!”


	Axio staggered out of the column of fire.  His tabard was ablaze, and his spell component case had burned away in the inferno, but his magic armor had allowed him to weather the pain and move.  He jumped down from the table and brought his sword down on Vorthane.  The old cleric rolled his shoulder aside to dodge the blow and kicked his chair at the Paladin, who cut it in half with one blow.  Axio circled the older man so his back was against the wall and lunged.

	Vorthane staggered back against the stone wall as the Paladin’s sword slammed into him through his armor.  He was wearing his psychic-enhancing slats on the outside of his chain mail, which provided excellent protection, but the Paladin hit like a Frost Giant.  Vorthane’s breath left his mouth in a rush, and he nearly gagged.  “P-psychic wave,” he managed, and a blast of purple scattered from his hands over the Paladin.  Axiopistos stumbled and fell as the stone beneath him turned to water.  He managed to roll clear of the effect, but Vorthane was on him.  The old cleric slid a blade into Axio’s back through a crack in his damaged armor, and Axio nearly ripped his own shoulder off as he wrenched clear.

	“You’re tired, angel-boy,” Vorthane snarled.  “Why not go to sleep?”  He cast the spell at the highest level he could, and Axio’s eyes sagged shut.


	I drove my glaive through the crystal on the wall, and it shattered.  Vorthane’s head snapped up as he saw his artifact explode.  “NOOOO!  You foolish bitch, do you know what you’ve done?” he demanded.  He left Axio’s inert side and rushed over to where I was standing, knocking me aside.  “The psychic energy-”

	The crystal exploded.  Vorthane flew backwards, impaled by a dozen shards of black glass.  The desk practically disintegrated as pieces of hot shrapnel tore it up.  Luanea looked up from where she had been seizing and quickly pulled Kyria into her shadow.  She cried out in pain as two chunks of stone cut through her anyway.  Suivi managed to duck behind one of Vorthane’s statues, and emerged unscathed, but a piece took Doshellas right in the chest and drove him back to the floor.

	My vision swam as a huge block of the evil thing crunched into my chest.  My amulet exploded as it smashed between my metal armor and the psychic rock.  I tried to speak, but all I could produce was a hissing noise.  I looked down and distantly noted that one piece of the psychic rock was actually penetrating through both sides of my chest, which was certainly novel.  I tried to remark on it before chuckling to myself.  Of course, I couldn’t speak now any more than I had a moment ago!  How silly.

	I collapsed.


	I awoke with a feeling of glee racing through my body.  I was laughing before my eyes even opened.  I felt hot thrills rush through me from head to tail, from wings to claws, as something hot and wet lashed my aching groin.

	“Oh, yes, master, destroy me!” I mewled.  “Never stop!”

	Asmodeus loomed over me, looking quite bored.  “Is that all it takes?” he asked disgustedly.

	I focused on him, despite the attention of the creature tonguing me.  “W-what?”

	“My High Succubus, the handlady of the Sinners, is satisfied by a simple creature?” he asked.  He kicked the dog-like devil between my legs and it slunk off.  I reached for it as it went, but I suddenly couldn’t move.  I cried.  I wanted more!  “What a failure you were, little whore.”

	“Master, no!” I wailed.  “I’m not failing you!”

	He laughed and kicked me in the flank.  I cried out in pleasure.  “Look at you!  So full, now, of me and my blood, and yet so weak!”

	I flicked my wings and tail, trying to rise.  I flexed my claws and bared my fangs at him.  “But I am so much!  Look upon me, Master!  I can lead any soul to you!”

	He glared.  “You dumb thing of meat, you can’t even seduce a Paladin whose bed you share!”

	“I play a long game,” I said, licking my fangs.  My horns tapped against the stone tile beneath me as I tried to twist my head.  “Give me another chance!”

	The archdevil rolled his eyes.  “No, Vreugde, I think I will leave you right where you are.”


	Axio struggled to rise.  He planted one foot against the wall and feebly pushed, trying to force movement into his body.  There was a great blast of energy from somewhere in the room, which forced him right back down.  Something hot clattered off his armor, and then all he could hear were sounds of pain.

	The young Paladin drove himself upward with a titanic effort and surveyed the room.  It was an utter mess.  All three Baneites lay dead.  Cavria was bleeding horribly from a stone shard through her chest.  Suivi was unharmed, and pouring a potion down Luanea’s throat.

	Axio cried out in anguish when he saw Cavria’s state, and Kyria’s.  The peppy wizard was lying still on the cold ground, bleeding fitfully from a hideous head wound.  He struggled to knee-walk over to his partner, and took her hands in his.  He wanted to say something, to tell her to stay alive or fight it off.  He poured every drop of his divine energy into her ravaged body, and he thought he saw her eyes shift behind their lids.  She coughed, but did not awaken.

	Luanea rose, hacking up blood.  When she saw the state of her young friend Kyria, she immediately rolled over to her and cast a spell.  “Lady Dancer, I ask you to Spare the Dying!” she whispered.  Kyria twitched feebly, and she cast another.  “Revivify!”

	Kyria moaned as the arrow from the hand crossbow fell from her head.  She coughed and put her hands to her wound.  “Oh, ow… he’s a cleric, crossbows are cheating…”

	“Lie still,” Luanea commanded, and she turned to address Doshellas’s wounds.

	Axio cradled Cavria in his arms.  “She… she isn’t dying, now, I don’t think, but there’s still something wrong,” he said desperately.  “Does anybody have healing left?  I’m spent!”

	“I have one cure wounds left,” Luanea said.  She moved beside her friend as Doshellas stirred.  “Axio, we’re all hurt badly, except Suivi.  We need to contact your grandfather.”

	“And the children downstairs will need help, too, I imagine,” Suivi said grimly.

	Axio’s face darkened with fear.  His sister.  “I… I have to go, but…”

	“Suivi, run back to the temple of Ryaire, right now,” Luanea said urgently.  “Get more healers, and the Watch.”

	“On it!”  Suivi threw the door back open and took off at a sprint.

	Doshellas slowly sat up patted himself down.  “Anybody… got any more potions?” he asked with a cough.

	“All I have left is feather fall!  I used the others in the battle downstairs,” Kyria said.

  	Axio pulled one gauntlet free and rested his hand against Cavria’s head.  “She’s burning up,” he said fearfully.