This post takes place in Westport Manor immediately after Jarath was charged.

“It’s an outrage I say!” Stallac’s voice boomed like thunder in the room. “I say if they continue this foolishness we stand with Jarath and resign our station. Let them find new heroes to fight their battles.”

Gunther drew the bottle of whiskey from his mouth. Amber liquid spilled and beaded in his beard. “It’s bigger than that Stallac. What about the greater good?”

“Bah!” Stallac sneered. “How about you Devon? What are your thoughts.”

The Highlord, who had been sipping a glass of green liquid only moments before, placed it down on the table. “Thoughts? None really. I stand by my friend as I already have and always shall. You however should distance yourself from the whole affair brother. I was there. I’ve placed myself in the spotlight with Jarath. You and Gunther need not throw yourself into this quarrel and create hard feelings with the parliament.

“You think I give a rat’s ass about what the parliament thinks of me?” The armored warrior shot back.

“Not for you.” Jarath said calmly. “What of Ziva? Gunther has Lydia. For certain Devon is not making things easy for Talisa.” He scoffed. “And you saw the crap they tried to pull on Keira.”

“He gave souls to demons Gunther. DEMONS! They should have been put down. Destroyed! We should have been there!” Hadryllis ranted and howled through the psychic rapport shared with the barbarian. At the same time, muffled yells of disappointment and outrage emanated from his scabbard.

Gunther resumed his drinking trying his best to drown out the screams with potent alcohol.

Devon, Jarath and Maya turned their heads toward the door of the private banquet room they had been using, a disagreement no one else seemed to hear drawing their attention..

“I’m sorry miss. You can’t go in there. It’s a private party ya know.” A barmaid pleaded with an unseen woman.

“I’ll go where I please thank you.”

“But…” There was a silent pause. “Where did she…?”

The door opened and the very familiar face of Holly stepped inside. “I heard some riff raff had arrived in town. What sort of trouble are you scoundrels in to be here unannounced?” She asked with a smirk.

Jarath immediately rose to meet her. “Hello Holly.” He greeted her brightly and he gave her a hug.  “Please sit. Have a drink.” 

As she looked around the room her eyes were immediately drawn to Devon. “Thanks.” She smiled.

Maya watched with wariness as the arch mage walked behind her to take a seat next to Devon and she scowled as he stood, embraced her warmly and kissed her softly on the cheek. Two sat and Holly leaned forward toward the black dragon, her left hand braced on Devon’s shoulder. “Hello Maya.” She said pleasantly.

Maya forced the thinnest of grins and lifted her head slightly in acknowledgement. “Holly.”

“What have you heard?” Jarath asked. 

“Nothing really.” She answered, turning her attention to him. She reached for a discarded goblet filled with what could only be described as liquid air, clouds forming and swirling in the clear blue tinted liquor that filled the glass. “Word of your arrival reached the tower the moment you appeared. The magister was just curious.” She paused “Is this safe?” 

“Of course.” Stallac answered beaming with great pride. It comes from Armun Kelisk. A most delicious libation old friend.”

Her expression tightened. “Never call a lady old bald guy.” She took a sip and smiled. “It’s wonderful.”

Stallac grinned happily.

There was a flash of brilliant white light. Two figures appeared in the room. One was a beautiful celestial being with dark brown hair, white wings and sharp talons. The other wore long blonde hair, soft blue eyes and white feathery wings. 

“Keira!” Holly shouted with glee.

The redeemed succubus rushed over and hugged the wizard. The two shook with excitement.

“Have you come to collect your wayward children?” She grabbed Devon by the arm. “I hope this one isn’t causing you too much grief.” Her tone held a hint of sarcasm and playfulness both.

Maya’s eyes darted, her glare fixated on the mage’s hand.

“Hey! Why does everyone always assume it’s me?”  Devon asked, feigning insult.

Keira tilted her head and smiled through a grimace.

“Because it usually is my lord.” Maya answered dryly.

“You too darlin?” Devon shook his head.

“Anyway.” Holly continued. “Is everything ok.”

“Hmm. That’s a complicated question to answer. No one’s in danger but there is trouble afoot. Vembra?”

“Thank you Keira.” The asura began. “We don’t have much time. The parliament has taken a short recess but we’ll be missed if gone for too long. First I want to let you know Jarath, that I vehemently oppose what  you have done. The fiends should have been put to slaughter. They deserve no mercy.”

“Preach!” Came a yell from Gunther’s scabbard.

“That said. I voted against any action of censure or removal levied against your… girlfriend?” She looked at Keira as if to determine whether she used the word properly. “Know too, that I will also support you as best I can and defend you from the slanderous accusations brought against you. I have not forgotten what you and your companions did for me on Phlegethos. I remember who my friends are. Be aware Lord Thim has been very vocal, insisting your crimes and arrogance must suffer dire consequences.” Her eyes sparkled with flashes of white hot flame. “Interestingly enough the other lord marshals disagree with his assessment. Even his sister legion, The third, refuses to endorse his rantings.”

Jarath smiled appreciatively. “Thank you Vembra. Arnet is a zealot. A good man mind you just a bit too narrow focused for my taste.”

Vembra chuckled. “My people are often referred to as zealous. I prefer the term proactive. Speaking of which…are you familiar with the myth of the Chalice, the story his order’s beliefs are built upon? 

“Yeah. It’s said Heironeous had a daughter who was stolen by his brother Hextor. It’s widely believed she was given to a demon or devil or some other fiendish being, though, I don’t think anyone knows to whom. Her name was Chalice”

“Hmm.” The asura thought aloud. “It’s a pity you don’t know anyone who may have an infernal contact. Someone who might be able to learn the whereabouts of Chalice. It would certainly be miraculous if you were to succeed where an entire order has failed for centuries. Alas, who would have such a source of information?” Her gaze moved about the room settling on Devon. 

“Absolutely not my lord.” Maya turned and protested.

“Well then. I’ll leave you to it. Come Keira. We should head back before we’re missed.”

Keira walked over to Jarath and kissed him. “It’ll be ok.” She turned to Devon. “Do be careful…whatever you decide.”

He bowed slightly. 

A flash of brilliant white light filled the room and they were gone.

“Would you like me to make an inquiry?” Devon offered.

“It’s up to you. How difficult will she be?”

Devon smirked. “No more than usual I’m sure.”

“No Devon. It’s too dangerous. I won’t allow it… Our queen…”

The entire room tilted their heads and looked at Maya.

“Doesn’t need to know.” Devon interrupted. “Maya. I have a task for you if you’d be so kind.”

The black dragon’s eyes were fixed with reproach. “My lord…” She growled.

“Please, check on Mads for me would you? See they she and her mother are well and need for nothing. Send my apologies that I could not visit in person and promise I will do so in the near future.”

“Devon don’t you dare…” She hissed in the draconic tongue.

“Please Maya.” He said reassuringly. “I’ll meet back at your place when I return.”

She stood in a huff, glared at Jarath and nodded to her liege. “As you say my lord.” She stormed off, angry and indignant.

As the door closed Holly asked. “Is she always this friendly?”

Jarath laughed. “No. Today was a good day.”

“I heard that priest.” The words echoed from down the hall.

“It’s settled then.” Devon rose from his chair. “I’d best be going. Goodbye Holly. It was nice to see you…even for a short time.”

She grabbed his hand. “Seriously Devon. Be careful. I’m not sure where you’re off to but based on what I just heard and saw it can’t be anywhere good.”

“Definitely not anywhere good.” He kissed her cheek. His form shimmered for a second and he was gone. 

“Fatoush my friend, it appears we have some work to do. Please return home with these bottles. Enjoy them.”

“Are you certain my Emir?”

“Of course my friend. We’ll be fine. When have you ever known us not to be.”

He paused, then opened his mouth to speak but Stallac interrupted him. “Don’t answer that.”

“Very well Emir. May the winds carry you safely home.” The air began to swirl about him and he too was gone.

Gunther grabbed a fresh bottle of whiskey. “I’m going to check on my people. You know where to find me.” He grumbled as he walked out of the room.

Jarath looked at Stallac. “I’m heading to the hunting lodge. Meet me there when you’re ready.” He hugged Holly and he too vanished from the room.

“Wow. You guys come and go rather quickly.” Holly remarked.

“Indeed. Could I show the lady back to the Magister’s Tower?”

“I’ve lived there my whole life Stallac. I think I know the way.” She answered with a wry grin.

“Fine. Be a bitch then.” He teased, strolling toward the door.

Holly whispered a few arcane words. Inexplicably, the normally surefooted and dextrous warrior stumbled, falling into the table.

She snickered as she walked past him.

“Petty much?” He laughed after her.

“Always.” She grinned and left.

……………………………………………………………

Malboge. The corrupted Sixth Layer of Hell was formed from the body of the hag countess, former ruler of the land. Unseated by Asmodeus she was torturously dispatched as rule of the realm was turned over to his very own daughter, Glasya, now Archduchess of the domain. Devon has had a peculiar relationship with the archfiend. Nearly two decade agos he was trapped here, betrayed in fact, and left to suffer what was assumed to be a most horrible fate. True to her nature Glasya took great delight in torturing him, inflicting upon him indignities and disastrous treatment that would have broken lesser mortals. It may have been his perseverance or perhaps her attraction to him that caused the Princess of Suffering to spare his life. Then again it could have been a mere whim, a chance of good fortune that Devon seems to test time and again. He’s never really been sure and he’s certain that’s by design. The two came to an understanding of sorts and Glasya gifted him her pendant, more than mere jewelry, the charm marks him as a member of her court granting him safe passage in Malboge and audience with its ruler. As Devon invoked its power, the copper disc grew white hot searing the flesh beneath his armor. The scourge imprinted on it took on a sickly green glow and wounds opened on his back as if he had struck by the weapon, even the favor of Glasya comes at a cost. 

He appeared in an antechamber, a comfortable parlor located just outside her main audience hall. His sudden appearance startled a few of the paeliryons, causing imps to fall about in mocking laughter. An erinyes in revealing mail armor stepped forward. “Are you expected Darkstar?”

“Hello to you too Arieseli.” He said in a most charming manner. “I’m afraid not. I was hoping though that the duchess would favor me with an audience.”

A barbed tail flicked at his throat drawing blood. The eriniyes watched for his reaction as she licked the droplets from the spur. Devon didn’t even flinch. “Welcome Darkstar.” She smiled. “You can’t be too careful you know.” She opened the door and announced him. “Lord Devon Darkstar wishes to beg the favor of your time my liege. Glasya was sitting on her throne, leaning back with a goblet in her hand as a horde of devils separated, clearing a path to their mistress.

“Ah. Devon. It is so nice to see you again.” She shifted sideways in her seat, drawing her legs together and exposing the naked skin of her outer thigh. “No dragon armor? Have you left the service of your queen? Have you come to bend the knee to me?”

Several of the assembled devils started snickering.

“I’m afraid not your grace.” He said bowing low and deferential. 

The room grew quiet.

“No? That is unfortunate. It does make me wonder why you’d travel all this way, risk such peril.” She sat quietly for a moment. “If my memory serves, you are dressed in the formal attire of your official station in Sanguinar.” She rose from her chair. Glasya stood better than a foot taller than he. She sashayed between the divided groups of devils and approached him. The devil queen ran her taloned fingers across the leather and eyed him up and down. “Single kukri? Where is its sister blade?”

“Secured in the dragon realm. I thought it would be bad form to bring such a thing into your presence, your grace.”   

“Are you not afraid that one of the many devils here today might seek to waylay you, without your proper weapons to fend them off…?” She mused, her tone rising an octave.

“Last I recalled duchess, I’ve been granted safe passage by your decree, unless something has changed…”

More snickering.

She ran her finger behind his ear, the razor sharp nail cutting into the soft flesh and drawing blood. She brought it to her lips. Devon did not react. “No… You wear my pendant, correct?”

“I do.”

“Then you are here by my will.”

“A most generous gift, your grace. But to allay your concerns for my safety, let me assure you, that even with this single blade I could cut through the assembly of the fiends here today with little effort.” 

The snickering stopped again.

Glasya smiled. “Not so funny anymore?” She stared at them. “Hmm?” She glared at the devils in her court. “Leave us!.” She commanded. The chamber emptied save for Arieseli. “Are you here to beg my assistance Devon or is this a social call?”

“I require your help.” He answered truthfully.

A malevolent grin worked its way across her face. “Are you willing to bargain?”

He nodded. 

“Good. Arieseli. Prepare a room for my guest. He’ll be staying.” She smiled at Devon, fangs gleaming in the light of the room. She draped her arm through his and drew him in front of a large oval window. “This structure was once the head of the hag countess. The realm has been reformed from her body. Look outside to what I have wrought. This is her eye we peer through now, the orbital at least.”

 “It’s grotesque and disgusting, a shocking contrast to one so beautiful as you Glasya.”

“Thank you.” She grinned. “Now… what is it you want?”

“Are you familiar with the myth of Chalice, the daughter of Heironeous?”

“I am.” Her claws bit deep into his arm causing excruciating pain. She watched him grimace and lit with satisfaction.

“Would you know who has her?” He asked

She turned to face him, lifting his chin up with a sharp black talon. Once his face was in the desired position her tail shot forward, penetrating the flesh between his left shoulder upper ribs. The forked crescent of the appendage resting a breath away from his chin. “Not the face. I like you pretty.”

Devon gasped and gritted his teeth. He had endured worse.

“Dispater. She’s a prisoner of the Iron Fortress, somewhere in the thousand mile footprint it covers. I’ve no idea where but I’m certain there must be a record of it. Devils are meticulous after all. I’ve heard there is a room where he keeps such things, somewhere near his prison. The problem is this though. Dispater never leaves the Iron Tower and you and your merry band would never survive an incursion while he is there.”

She twisted her tail. The agony she was causing felt intoxicating to her. 

“Then there is the issue of moving about the place. There are no doors. Teleportation is the only means of travel room to room. Which begs the question…How can you teleport to somewhere you’ve never seen? Madness right? It would be nearly as foolish as treating with an arch devil of hell.” She smiled playfully. “But I may be able to help with that.”

“What must I offer in return. Nothing is free.”

“No. That’s true. Even for one I’ve favored so. Three days, Darkstar. You will remain with me for three days to do with what I wish. That is the price for the help you seek. You have my word it’ll be worth your while.”

“Is that so.” He asked.

“Unless you wish to fail and throw your life away in the process, then yes. It is so.”

Devon took a deep breath. “Agreed.”

“Wonderful. She grabbed his face then plunged her tongue into his mouth. It felt like a hot poker that had been sharpened and coated in acid. When she broke away he coughed noxious fumes and blood. He felt a burning in his veins as Selene’s celerity attacked the poison introduced to his body. “Do not fear Darkstar. I won’t impugn your virtue… this time… well not much. You see, I’ve been developing new virulent toxins and debilitating diseases but my work has come to a halt. I find myself in need of a test subject that won’t perish at first exposure. Your Sanguinari immunity to poison and draconic immunity to disease make you the perfect person to try them on. There should be very little risk of you dying.” She paused, raising an eyebrow. “Though… it will be incredibly unpleasant and painful. I’m afraid you are going to suffer quite a bit. Now… Why not see yourself to your room? I’m sure you remember the way. Refresh and I’ll be along shortly.”

Devon bowed. His eyes flickering blue. “Thank you Glasya.”

A broad smile formed on her face. “You’re welcome.”

…………………………………………………………………

“How are you feeling?” The Arch Devil asked as she sat on the bed and leaned over to inspect him. 

“How do I look?” He rasped, his throat raw and burning. 

“Handsome as ever, surprisingly so in fact. You know…” She began to trace a rune on the chest piece of his armor. “You could choose to stay. We would have such wonderful fun.” 

He forced himself to sit up breaking the line of the rune she was working. “A most generous and tempting offer but I can’t. You know this.”

“I could make you stay.” She threatened in a low growl.

“True. Is that what you’d want?” He countered.

“No.” She answered plainly and stood. “I hold your end of the bargain fulfilled, Devon. There is going to be a convention of all the devil lords in nine days time. All are required to attend. All must be present. No aspects, no representatives, no trickery. By the order of my father, all must appear in person. In nine days time, Dispater will leave the Iron Fortress. How long he will be gone, I can’t be sure. I do promise to delay the proceeding as long as I can. “As for getting around…” She looked into a full length mirror and ran her talons through her hair. “You will go to the border town of Ribcage and venture to a tavern called The Dark Secrets. You will be met by one of my servants who will have a key of sorts. Dispater uses magically enchanted flowers to assist petitioners in moving around. Each room is represented by a rune. Some petals are inscribed, others blank. An inscribed petal will take you to the location designated by the rune. A blank petal can be inscribed to take you to any room to which you know the representative rune. I’ll have the library and study inscribed for you. The other ten will be blank. Use them sparingly. All you need to do is pluck the petal and place it against the wall. I’ve kept you for three days, Darkstar. As per the rule of three I have given you three concessions. Our bargain is complete.” The Arch Devil leaned over him kissing his cheek. “You are free to go. Perhaps your next visit will be pleasure and not business.”

“It’s always a pleasure to see you Glasya.”

She grinned. “You’re charming. That is why I allow you to live. Go. But should some unfortunate calamity befall you Darkstar. Pray to me and I’ll gladly bargain for your soul.”

“You are most generous, your grace.” The amulet grew hot once more and the sickly green hue of the scourge danced in the devil’s pupil. She smiled, pleased to witness one more act of suffering inflicted upon him before he vanished. 

Devon appeared in the Boglands. The underground haven Maya kept secret from the world. He fell to a knee and she rushed over to him.

“Damnations to the gods Devon. I told you not to go. What has that bitch done to you.”

“No less than I expected. He said with a forced grin, the pain causing it to look more like a grimace than a smile. 

His armor was damp to the touch. She pulled her hand away and saw it was wet with blood. “You’re hurt. Get that armor off and let me have a look.” 

“Daleko.” He commanded and the armor faded away revealing torn, blood stained clothing, scorched and discolored.

“All of it.” She hissed angrily. “Strip it all away.”

He did as she asked, taking off the tattered garments. Some of the silk was stuck to the healing wounds and had to be peeled away, causing them to open again where clots had begun to form. His condition was grievous. There was a puncture wound the size of a cake serving knife off to the side of his left shoulder. There was blistered, blackened skin chafing on his abdomen. Sickly pustules ran down his leg dried and crusted. Long flayed cuts ran across his back oozing green liquid. There was a festering nick behind his ear and holes poked into his forearms as if a great hawk had perched there, cutting its claws into his bare flesh. His right hand was charred and burnt.

“You’re a mess. Never again Devon. Do you hear me?!” She admonished him like a child. She stood mumbling to herself. Devon could pick out parts of her self contained conversation. “How am I supposed to protect him when he does this? Where the hells is it Maya? Aliyeah would be furious…There it is.” She walked back and knelt next to him. “Here drink this.”

“What is it?” He asked.

“Healing potion. We’ve got to get you mended up a bit before we find you some real help.”

“No.” He responded.

“What?! Don’t agitate me Devon. We can get more. Drink it.”

“No. You don’t understand.”

“Enlighten me.” She said with unmasked irritation.

“The wounds were caused by the Princess of Suffering, the Devil Queen of Torment. Do you really expect it to be that easy to fix? Sorry darlin. I danced this song before. Time and time alone will help. If I drink that it’ll only make her angry, cause me a whole lot of pain and work the opposite of what you expect.

Maya grew quiet, her scowl changing to worry. “What can I do, my lord.”

“Bind and wrap them. I don’t have a lot of time. I’ve got to tell Jarath what I’ve learned.

The anger returned, fury raging in her eyes. “The hells you do. He can wait.”

“No. We have nine days to complete this quest. We have to move now.”

“I don’t understand Devon.” She said softly. “Why would you do this? You’re in no condition to fight. Jareth won’t even be able to heal you. I must protest.”

“Please Maya, just dress the wounds. There is no one else I can trust to see me like this.”

“I hate you.” She growled.

“I know.” He smiled. 

She cleaned out all the wounds, draining the toxins where she could. She dressed them tightly. Even so, the wound on his shoulder continued to bleed through. “What did that?” She asked.

“Tail.” He coughed and spit a bit of blood.

“You’re bleeding on the inside too!” She shook her head. “I can’t…You can’t.” She turned away. “I’ll tell Aliyeah.” 

“No you won’t. I’m fine.” He insisted while dressing. He lost his balance for a moment and stumbled. Amaya instinctively reached for him, steadying him. Devon could see the tears in her eyes.

“It’s what I do Maya.” He took a deep breath. “Plat’ye.” The black leather of his armor closed over his form.

“Fine.” She scowled. “Go. Get yourself killed. I’m tired of taking orders from you anyway! Leave and never come back!” She threw the potion bottle at him. It missed smashing against the cave wall.

He closed his eyes, shimmered and was gone.

The black dragon fell to her knees. “Come back.” she whispered.