Velentham did not know how much time had passed - his mind was locked in a state of perpetual rage and lethargy. The glow in his eyes blinded him to everything but the darkness of evil which seemed to be everywhere. His mind cleared only at his father's touch, "Velentham, come. We must prepare to leave at once."
"Will we battle them?" he asked, staring out at the dragons in the sky.
"Let us hope not this time..." Gilean said.
"Long ago," Telfenham began, "a celestial name Asmodeus was born and thrown from the realm of Elysium. He was ejected so far, so fast, he shot through the plains and made that crevasse you see. This citadel... is not the true citidel. It is in that hole... along with his body."
At the mere mention of the name, Velentham grabbed his father by the shoulders. "Why? Why did you do that?!" Velentham knew about the legend. He knew the consequence for speaking the name aloud. None had ever survived longer than a day after speaking it.
"We will fly hard, fly fast... once we leave this tower, they will see us and they will follow. There will be no time for hesitation. You will have to follow me to the portal and question nothing."
Why his father did what he did, Velentham did not understand. It upset him greatly, but perhaps the myth was nothing more than a childhood tale meant to make new Celestials behave. "Are you ready?" his father asked.
"Remember, question nothing, and move with haste. Your life depends on it."
"All of ours do," Gilean replied.
At the last moment, in horror, Velentham watched his father take off his own amulet. With nimble fingers, his father placed it upon Velentham's neck, and with a look of pain filled regret, the elder Celestial lept from the spire and into the sky.
"NO!" Velentham lept from the spire but no matter how hard he strained, he could not keep pace with his father. Far behind them a black dragon caught wind of the excitement, it's undulating body coiling through the air to close the gap. Still, Velentham sped after his father. "FATHER! NO!" He knew then what the elder meant to do, and he had to do everything in his power to stop him.
Brief Respite
Telfenham and Gilean both arrived on the ground, blasted by a downdraft but able to keep themselves from further harm by landing more delicately. Velentham laid on his side, howling with pain, his baying echoing with the sound of hundreds of Gelugon feet as they tromped down the sides of the pit. "Hurry, we must get through the portal," Telfenham said, encouraging Gilean to heal his son.
Velentham rose, swaggering drunkenly, spittle and blood dripping from his mouth, whispering incoherently. Telfenham knew they had only moments. "What is he doing... wasting his energy?" Gilean asked.
"He may well get us all killed. We should never have attempted this."
"And I suppose him being sent into a bloodlust as he wades through all of those guards with swords in hand would have fared better."
There was no time to argue. Telfenham located the portal and dragged all three through. They arrived at the tallest spire in the citadel of Malsheem. They were in the ninth level and the very smell of the air told of the millions of hell spawn of all kinds that called the place home. In the air, black dragons sailed among the sweltering air currents. Purple clouds let loose arcs of jagged lightning. For the first time Telfenham was faced with what looked like an utterly impossible situation.
"We need to find a place to rest," Gilean said over the sound of Velentham vomiting.
"We are in grave danger, Gilean. Those dragons will certainly detect us if we fly from here."
"Then how are we to descend?"
Telfenham rose and walked to a crenelle, scanning the horizon before spotting a mountain. "We must go there. Do you see it?" Gilean walked over and nodded his agreement. "Before that mountain is the deepest crevasse in this entire plane. If we need rest, we should do it here. For the moment we leave this spot..."
"Then that is what we must do," Gilean said. "Velentham needs to gather himself and I do hot have the strength to heal myself."
"This is as gathered as he will be. This is the warning I gave. It is only with effort that I am not as reduced as he. I better understand how to ride the rhythms of my body... he... does not."
"That is why I did not want him on this journey."
The comment was all Telfenham could stand. He knew his son was a danger on the journey, but after nearly five months time spent together, he could not understand how Gilean could still harbor such resentment. "Do you honestly intend to sit here pitying that my son is along on this foolish journey? Have you no sense of camaraderie at all? Can you not for once simply be grateful for the company that surrounds you?"
"I... I'm sorry."
"We will go when you are ready," Telfenham said, settling down on the tall rampart.
Velentham rose, swaggering drunkenly, spittle and blood dripping from his mouth, whispering incoherently. Telfenham knew they had only moments. "What is he doing... wasting his energy?" Gilean asked.
"He may well get us all killed. We should never have attempted this."
"And I suppose him being sent into a bloodlust as he wades through all of those guards with swords in hand would have fared better."
There was no time to argue. Telfenham located the portal and dragged all three through. They arrived at the tallest spire in the citadel of Malsheem. They were in the ninth level and the very smell of the air told of the millions of hell spawn of all kinds that called the place home. In the air, black dragons sailed among the sweltering air currents. Purple clouds let loose arcs of jagged lightning. For the first time Telfenham was faced with what looked like an utterly impossible situation.
"We need to find a place to rest," Gilean said over the sound of Velentham vomiting.
"We are in grave danger, Gilean. Those dragons will certainly detect us if we fly from here."
"Then how are we to descend?"
Telfenham rose and walked to a crenelle, scanning the horizon before spotting a mountain. "We must go there. Do you see it?" Gilean walked over and nodded his agreement. "Before that mountain is the deepest crevasse in this entire plane. If we need rest, we should do it here. For the moment we leave this spot..."
"Then that is what we must do," Gilean said. "Velentham needs to gather himself and I do hot have the strength to heal myself."
"This is as gathered as he will be. This is the warning I gave. It is only with effort that I am not as reduced as he. I better understand how to ride the rhythms of my body... he... does not."
"That is why I did not want him on this journey."
The comment was all Telfenham could stand. He knew his son was a danger on the journey, but after nearly five months time spent together, he could not understand how Gilean could still harbor such resentment. "Do you honestly intend to sit here pitying that my son is along on this foolish journey? Have you no sense of camaraderie at all? Can you not for once simply be grateful for the company that surrounds you?"
"I... I'm sorry."
"We will go when you are ready," Telfenham said, settling down on the tall rampart.
The Pit
No sooner than they had entered the portal than the assault of cold hit them full on. They had come upon the city of Mephistar, but of course, not being invited inside, they were left out in the cold. The City of Ice as it was known was not a welcoming place, less because of the denizens that walked huddled against the chill of the streets, but more for the outer boundaries where massive ice-floes ran full speed across the landscape, crashing into one another and creating giant avalanches. The constant sound of crashing giants rattled the very ground like an earthquake, and at each rush, Velentham spiraled deeper into madness. His eyes glowed constantly, seeing nothing, and Telfenham was forced to guide his son by the hand most of the way.
Flying was precarious and on more than one occasion, Telfenham had to whisk the group out of the way of a speeding glacier - some complete with frozen bodies that stared out in soundless horror as they rushed to their doom. Across the landscape, yet another deep chasm yawned. It was the Pit and it was filled with narrow switchbacks all the way down to the bottom. Air would rush up suddenly and stop just as fast, excluding the ability to fly to the bottom. They would have to climb down and fight if needed.
They only made it mere feet down the path before a devil sounded the alarm. Gelugons rushed out, their insectoid chatter suddenly filling the pit. Dozens ran from the guard posts and began heading up the side of the pit, and Telfenham felt his heart sink. "We have to fly!" he yelled. "Try your best to avoid the downdrafts! Grab Velentham's other arm and dive!"
Telfenham and Gilean, Velentham in tow, lept from the ledge. Unable to follow, the Gelugons screeched their commands and began to head down the sides of the pit. Flight was indeed a challenge as the sudden onslaught of rushing air tore the three apart, sending Gilean higher and Telfenham lower. The elder celestial stared upward in horror as his son, delerious with Celestial rage yet cowed by the amulet, twisted in the air until he was pushed down by the force of a gust that slammed him into the bottom of the pit.
Flying was precarious and on more than one occasion, Telfenham had to whisk the group out of the way of a speeding glacier - some complete with frozen bodies that stared out in soundless horror as they rushed to their doom. Across the landscape, yet another deep chasm yawned. It was the Pit and it was filled with narrow switchbacks all the way down to the bottom. Air would rush up suddenly and stop just as fast, excluding the ability to fly to the bottom. They would have to climb down and fight if needed.
They only made it mere feet down the path before a devil sounded the alarm. Gelugons rushed out, their insectoid chatter suddenly filling the pit. Dozens ran from the guard posts and began heading up the side of the pit, and Telfenham felt his heart sink. "We have to fly!" he yelled. "Try your best to avoid the downdrafts! Grab Velentham's other arm and dive!"
Telfenham and Gilean, Velentham in tow, lept from the ledge. Unable to follow, the Gelugons screeched their commands and began to head down the sides of the pit. Flight was indeed a challenge as the sudden onslaught of rushing air tore the three apart, sending Gilean higher and Telfenham lower. The elder celestial stared upward in horror as his son, delerious with Celestial rage yet cowed by the amulet, twisted in the air until he was pushed down by the force of a gust that slammed him into the bottom of the pit.
Long Lost Visitor
Sanria had managed to get Colin to let her go outside on her own. After his kidnapping, he followed her everywhere, reluctant to let her out of his sight. Convinced that to do so was only to let Arlenia come in and take *her* away instead - to kill her to get her out of the way. Sanria had a hard time believing it at all. It only took her asking Colin if it were possible that her dissatisfaction with him before her memory loss might have been due to his overbearing nature for him to relent. And such is the way she found herself outside, picking herbs, with the sound of soft footfalls assaulted her ears.
The man was dressed in brown robes with a long staff and looked utterly lost - but he knew her name. In an effort to calm her, Sanria also learned the stranger's name, Thasmudyan. She sent Orn inside as she spoke to Thasmudyan. She told him about her husband being kidnapped. She told him about Throm dying, which seemed to perplex the man - if her Throm was here, then how was he dead. The question hung in the air, as Sanria tilted her head in confusion. Colin had always said things between them had never worked out. How could this man think that Throm was her husband?
Before anything further could be said, a very frazzled Colin rushed from the cavern. "Thasmudyan? Well, hi there."
"Hello, Colin. Good to see you're doing well."
"Y-yes, you as well. You have been away for a while."
Sanria could hear the tension in Colin's voice. Something here wasn't right. Colin held a certain something... fear. "Were you a friend of Throm's?" she asked the stranger.
"We... were all friends," Colin interjected. "I'm sorry Thasmudyan, you'll have to excuse Sanria. You see, her memory..."
"I'm just sorry I broke the news like that. I wasn't sure if you were good friends or..."
Sanria could say nothing as the men spoke about the length of time Thasmudyan had been away. She could remember nothing of which they spoke, and whenever she did attempt to speak, Colin spoke for her. Only when they explained how long it had been in terms of her pregnancy, how Orn had been given the ability to grow quickly because of him - did Sanria suddenly understand who this man was. She had just come face to face with her ex-husband. And Colin knew it.
The man was dressed in brown robes with a long staff and looked utterly lost - but he knew her name. In an effort to calm her, Sanria also learned the stranger's name, Thasmudyan. She sent Orn inside as she spoke to Thasmudyan. She told him about her husband being kidnapped. She told him about Throm dying, which seemed to perplex the man - if her Throm was here, then how was he dead. The question hung in the air, as Sanria tilted her head in confusion. Colin had always said things between them had never worked out. How could this man think that Throm was her husband?
Before anything further could be said, a very frazzled Colin rushed from the cavern. "Thasmudyan? Well, hi there."
"Hello, Colin. Good to see you're doing well."
"Y-yes, you as well. You have been away for a while."
Sanria could hear the tension in Colin's voice. Something here wasn't right. Colin held a certain something... fear. "Were you a friend of Throm's?" she asked the stranger.
"We... were all friends," Colin interjected. "I'm sorry Thasmudyan, you'll have to excuse Sanria. You see, her memory..."
"I'm just sorry I broke the news like that. I wasn't sure if you were good friends or..."
Sanria could say nothing as the men spoke about the length of time Thasmudyan had been away. She could remember nothing of which they spoke, and whenever she did attempt to speak, Colin spoke for her. Only when they explained how long it had been in terms of her pregnancy, how Orn had been given the ability to grow quickly because of him - did Sanria suddenly understand who this man was. She had just come face to face with her ex-husband. And Colin knew it.
Vanishing Gladiator
Arlenia's eyes were red, swollen, puffy, and full of tears that marched a never-ending parade down her face. Things were perfect the night before. They made love so loudly that Sanria had to have heard it. Colin even agreed that what they did would drive away his ex wife. Then she woke up to find his side of the bed empty. No one had seen him leave, which drove Arlenia into such a frenzy that even Brant and Hector avoided her.
The knock at the door brought her momentarily from her sobbing. Banion smiled gently and put his hands on her shoulders. He brought her into a hug and patted her back. "There, there."
"Banion, he - he..."
"I heard, child. So our plan did not work as it should. Perhaps it was not meant to be."
"But, he's the father of my child, Banion. What can I do?"
"Nothing - let him be."
"No... no..."
Arlenia pulled away from Banion, wiping furiously at her eyes. She turned them on him, her teeth bared, her eyes looking wild. "I know. I'll kill her."
Banion stepped into the hut, gripping Arlenia by the shoulders, giving her a light shake. "No, child. There will be none of that."
Arlenia looked up, her features smoothing. "Of course not. Of course."
"Good. You will heal, and you'll raise a perfect child." She smiled as Banion left and then sunk down into the chair, staring at the fire. She would have her child, she would deliver it to Colin, and she would dispose of Sanria in a way Colin wouldn't suspect. She patted her stomach and whispered into the fire, "four more months to go."
The knock at the door brought her momentarily from her sobbing. Banion smiled gently and put his hands on her shoulders. He brought her into a hug and patted her back. "There, there."
"Banion, he - he..."
"I heard, child. So our plan did not work as it should. Perhaps it was not meant to be."
"But, he's the father of my child, Banion. What can I do?"
"Nothing - let him be."
"No... no..."
Arlenia pulled away from Banion, wiping furiously at her eyes. She turned them on him, her teeth bared, her eyes looking wild. "I know. I'll kill her."
Banion stepped into the hut, gripping Arlenia by the shoulders, giving her a light shake. "No, child. There will be none of that."
Arlenia looked up, her features smoothing. "Of course not. Of course."
"Good. You will heal, and you'll raise a perfect child." She smiled as Banion left and then sunk down into the chair, staring at the fire. She would have her child, she would deliver it to Colin, and she would dispose of Sanria in a way Colin wouldn't suspect. She patted her stomach and whispered into the fire, "four more months to go."
Saving Guardian
The door to the hut opened and Colin's massive frame momentarily blocked the light. "Colin!"
"Shhhh," he hushed her as the door closed behind him and no sooner than they were left in the darkness than Colin closed Sanria in a massive hug. "They've kidnapped me, they took me and have been drugging me."
"You didn't leave on your own accord?" Sanria asked, careful not to wake Orn or speak too loudly.
"Of course not. Why would I?"
"The note..."
"What note? I didn't write a note." Colin shook his head. "We have to leave here. If I have to take them all out to clear the way I will."
"No, there must be another way."
There was another way. Colin would go back to Arlenia. Convince her of his love, and return by night to collect Sanria and Orn. Sanria would then cast another moonwell and they'd escape back to their home. It was a perfect plan - Sanria just didn't count on the convincing being what it was - as loud as it was... Colin being with Arlenia, right beside her. Sanria felt a sickness in her stomach, a knotting, and knowing she had time, she let tears flow from her eyes.
From the time of the final peal of pleasure until Colin arrived in the hut, Sanria doubted Colin's story. How could he truly want to leave and be able to do that? She felt like a pregnant cow - one of many - one in a herd. She kept her thoughts shoved deep down as Colin returned.
They left without arousing any sort of suspicion. Orn's limbs swung limp in his father's arms, the child in a deep sleep. Sanria cast the moonwell and watched Colin step through before following. That night, with Orn back in his own bed, Sanria listened to Colin telling her everything that had happened. His kidnapping, his drugging, his three-week absence. She thought of the days she had spent with the note in her hand - feeling lost and alone - night spent dreaming of another man while Colin spent those same night in another woman's bed. She felt sick.
Though Colin had explained, cajoled, and helped her to understand why he did what he did - deep in Sanria's mind, a damage had been done. The love she felt before Colin left had been tried, it had been isolated, and most recently, it had been insulted. She wouldn't let him know it. She'd try not to let him see it. But Sanria loved with conditions. Sanria waited for the next shoe to fall.
"Shhhh," he hushed her as the door closed behind him and no sooner than they were left in the darkness than Colin closed Sanria in a massive hug. "They've kidnapped me, they took me and have been drugging me."
"You didn't leave on your own accord?" Sanria asked, careful not to wake Orn or speak too loudly.
"Of course not. Why would I?"
"The note..."
"What note? I didn't write a note." Colin shook his head. "We have to leave here. If I have to take them all out to clear the way I will."
"No, there must be another way."
There was another way. Colin would go back to Arlenia. Convince her of his love, and return by night to collect Sanria and Orn. Sanria would then cast another moonwell and they'd escape back to their home. It was a perfect plan - Sanria just didn't count on the convincing being what it was - as loud as it was... Colin being with Arlenia, right beside her. Sanria felt a sickness in her stomach, a knotting, and knowing she had time, she let tears flow from her eyes.
From the time of the final peal of pleasure until Colin arrived in the hut, Sanria doubted Colin's story. How could he truly want to leave and be able to do that? She felt like a pregnant cow - one of many - one in a herd. She kept her thoughts shoved deep down as Colin returned.
They left without arousing any sort of suspicion. Orn's limbs swung limp in his father's arms, the child in a deep sleep. Sanria cast the moonwell and watched Colin step through before following. That night, with Orn back in his own bed, Sanria listened to Colin telling her everything that had happened. His kidnapping, his drugging, his three-week absence. She thought of the days she had spent with the note in her hand - feeling lost and alone - night spent dreaming of another man while Colin spent those same night in another woman's bed. She felt sick.
Though Colin had explained, cajoled, and helped her to understand why he did what he did - deep in Sanria's mind, a damage had been done. The love she felt before Colin left had been tried, it had been isolated, and most recently, it had been insulted. She wouldn't let him know it. She'd try not to let him see it. But Sanria loved with conditions. Sanria waited for the next shoe to fall.
Deeper Hell
Telfenham's experienced eyes knew as soon as they landed on the deep crater in the ground that they had found the way to Maladomini. It would require skill to make it to the bottom without flight. At times, the going was so treacherous that they had to lean against the wall, their toes hanging over what little portion of ledge there was.
At last, they reached the portal and peered through. The deepest chasm in all Malbolge deposited them at the highest part of Maladomini - an incredibly tall and straight spire in the city of Malagard. Far below, demons worked inexhorably to create the straightest and most perfect city for their Lord, Baalzebul. As far as the horizon reached, were the ruins of cities past - all built then abandoned for their lack of perfection.
Here the trio could fly undetected and the space between the demon spawn and Velentham seemed to clear his mind by a fraction. Telfenham breathed an inward sigh of relief - he could focus a little more on the task at hand. Mythology had informed him that one of the abandoned cities held a sewer system so flawlessly designed that it was the envy of every sewer system in the planar realms - save one part that dipped too far down. That single part was what they needed to reach the Plane of Cania, the eighth level of hell.
The small but impecably built city was far from abandoned and only fortune kept the band from being discovered by passing fiends. The sewer system literally crawled with blobs, algae demons, weresnakes and rats. Telfenham knew deep in his soul that Velentham was reaching the breaking point, but there was nothing that could be done. They could not turn back, they could not stop. There was nothing he could do but guide and hope that fortune kept her vigilant eye upon them.
At last, they reached the portal and peered through. The deepest chasm in all Malbolge deposited them at the highest part of Maladomini - an incredibly tall and straight spire in the city of Malagard. Far below, demons worked inexhorably to create the straightest and most perfect city for their Lord, Baalzebul. As far as the horizon reached, were the ruins of cities past - all built then abandoned for their lack of perfection.
Here the trio could fly undetected and the space between the demon spawn and Velentham seemed to clear his mind by a fraction. Telfenham breathed an inward sigh of relief - he could focus a little more on the task at hand. Mythology had informed him that one of the abandoned cities held a sewer system so flawlessly designed that it was the envy of every sewer system in the planar realms - save one part that dipped too far down. That single part was what they needed to reach the Plane of Cania, the eighth level of hell.
The small but impecably built city was far from abandoned and only fortune kept the band from being discovered by passing fiends. The sewer system literally crawled with blobs, algae demons, weresnakes and rats. Telfenham knew deep in his soul that Velentham was reaching the breaking point, but there was nothing that could be done. They could not turn back, they could not stop. There was nothing he could do but guide and hope that fortune kept her vigilant eye upon them.
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