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Infernal Infiltration

Siegfried knew that Nishrek was Gruumsh’s realm within Acheron, ostensibly located on one of the gargantuan cubes that spun like gambler’s dice in the astral void of Avalas. It was the home of the Orc pantheon. Varien knew that if there was a hierarchy of targets on Fiendsbane’s blade, Rimmon was second only to Levistus. Fiendsbane had guided Varien through research on this very topic, and from his time in study, he recalled that Rimmon was at one time the Archduke of Cania, one of the Nine Hells of Baator, making him an equal to Levistus as one of the Lords of the Nine, subservient only to Asmodeus himself. Fiendsbane knew that Rimmon had been replaced as Lord of Cania by Mephistopheles, the Cold Lord, who now ruled the Eighth Layer of Hell with a coldwrought iron fist. In compensation for the loss of his realm, Rimmon had been offered a position in Asmodeus’s court as a Duke of Nessus, one of the generals marshalling the army of fiends in the eternal Blood War and securing Asmodeus’s claim on the Nine Hells. He led five companies of gelugons – ice devils – into battle. Now it seemed that he had lost even that position. I care little for infernal politics, Fiendsbane said. I care about stabbing infernal politicians. “Soon, soon,” Varien said, patting his sword’s scabbard. The party had wind walked through a firestorm of antiaircraft fire and looping flying machines as the immense airship cut a swath of destruction across the pockmarked face of a moon-sized battle cubes below it, unleashing cannon blasts from scorpion turrets, rocket fire, and burning beams of destructive energy from its infernal searchlights that harkened back to the Eye of the Coast that the Hand of Nessus had used in the Leaning Lighthouse. Airbursts of flak, magic missiles , and ground-based artillery fire turned the air around the zeppelin into a maelstrom of fire, smoke, and shrapnel that sent more than one winged airship spinning towards the cube’s surface, their fuselages in flames. The great flying machine’s armour, however, allowed it to move impassively through the firestorm. The aerial punishment was meted out on a vast orc formation of infantry marching endlessly across the flat surface of the cube in open terrain, ripe for such a strafing. The closer the party breezed towards the airship, the more difficult it was to maintain their telepathic link.   As the party drifted like low-lying fog through the service tubes of the airship, they heard announcements in Infernal over a crackling loudspeaker system. Varien translated:   A THING COVETED IS WORTH THE WAIT!   FLAWLESS SERVICE GUARANTEES PROMOTION!   Varien thought back to what he knew of the hierarchy of devils. Every devil wanted to climb the ladder. Gelugons were rather high up in the ranking, serving as commanders of lower-level devils in battle and were known to tirelessly pursue promotion, and needed to endure 777 years of flawless, perfect service to their master before becoming eligible to ascend to the rank of Pit Fiend. Gelugons were concerned with success and service, so there was a streak of loyalty running through the ice in their veins, because any misstep sets them back in their pursuit. “Devils hate this one weird trick,” Siegfried said. “It’s called true polymorph. ” “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Siegfried,” Varien warned. “Hear me out,” replied Siegfried. “What if we were to pull a surprise inspection?” “One of these days when you become a devil, a devil is going to become you, and I’m going to have to end that,” Varien said. “Varien, I’m far more evil than these devils are already!” Siegfried protested. “I’m better at it.” “Nope, I’m not hearing that,” Varien said. It was true that making out one another’s voices telepathically was nearly impossible within the infernal iron matrix of the airship. “What if…pit fiend…said I was from the union…inspection…” Siegfried’s voice, muffled and glitched out, was continuing the argument.   The temperature in the corridors of the airship was very cold, and the ironwork was rimed with frost that seemed to spell out infernal warding runes across every surface. “Gnash, how close can we get to the bridge of this airship?” Siegfried asked. “Oh, uh, I can get you pretty close,” Gnash said through a hissing static headache. “The bridge is going to be well defended but it is accessible. Using the imp tunnels the imps might notice this out-of-place burst of steam or fog or what have you and file an alert with the command deck. They might look into it or request assistance.” “If we’re in walking distance this is as good a place as any,” Siegfried said. “Well, yeah,” Gnash replied. Air-wen started re-materializing in the corridor nearest the imp roost egress point. There was a tense sixty seconds that seemed to pass very slowly, but the party was unmolested during the time taken to become corporeal again. The party materialized in a technomantic ironclad corridor forged from infernal iron. Beneath their boots were ironshod deckplates, into which was set a pentagram-like rune that was giving off a dark reddish light to illuminate the antechamber. A deep basso thrum reverberated throughout the corridor, perhaps the vibrations of whatever dynamo was helping the airship stay in the air. “What did I tell ya?” Gnash beamed. “We’re golden!” Before them was a heavy bulkhead with a portal that appeared to have a translucent grey film skeined across the open door. “Well, lead the way to the bridge!” Siegfried said to Gnash. “Will do!” There was a slight pop as Gnash climbed through the portal. There was a popping squelch as he passed through the bulkhead. Siegfried followed and immediately felt the scourging of necrotic burn all over his body. There was a sizzling sound as he passed through the portal that ended as he entered the second area. Varien followed and was similarly afflicted by the acidic necrosis. “Siegfried, do you know any beasts associated with the Devil?” Airwen asked Siegfried. “Rams? Goats?” Siegfried replied without hesitation. Varien gave him a suspicious glance. Bob winced as he passed through the portal and was scourged. Airwen drifted through the portal and appeared unaffected by the film over the doorway. He howled triumphantly, which echoed down the corridor. “Nice surprise infiltration we had going there,” Siegfried grumbled. Varien and Airwen noticed that Gnash appeared to have been unaffected by the portal’s scourging security feature. “Gnash, is there something you’re forgetting to tell us?” Airwen growled. “What do you mean? What do you mean?” Gnash replied nervously. “Because forgetting could cost you your life,” Airwen growled again. “Well, you could write a book about the things I’ve forgotten,” Gnash said. “Specifically, did you forget about the anti-mortal aura on this doorway?” Siegfried said. “Oh, that must be a new defence mechanism they put in,” Gnash said. “Why, did you get tagged by something?” He brushed goo from his greatcoat with his long, metal claws. “It’s a bit chilly in here, isn’t it?” He popped his coat’s collar around his goblin-like face. Airwen decided to cast polymorph on Gnash. “H-hey, why are you lookin’ at me like that, Erwen?” Gnash stuttered. “Because you’re a rat,” Airwen replied. “What?” Gnash protested. “I’ve been nothing but straight with you!” Airwen frowned. The spell should have worked, but Gnash did not change shape as expected. “Wait a second,” Gnash said. “I thought we were friends here!” Gnash held up his metal claws in protest. Siegfried cast true seeing and considered Gnash for a moment as his eyes shone bright white. What he saw was not merely the augmented goblin that stood before him with prosthetic arms and legs, but a large, muscular canoid creature, its spine bristling with spikes and a swishing tail. A goblin-wolf hybrid with a jaw full of sharp teeth. Something seemed off about it though, as if the creature was oscillating between goblin and creature form seemingly at random, unable to fully transform. This was a barghest, a fiendish, lupine creature native to Gehenna. Varien cast divine sense . The presence of strong evil all around him stank like rotting flesh in his nose, but he pushed past the background desecration and focused on Gnash, identifying him as not a goblin but rather a fiend. In his most authoritative voice, Siegfried commanded Gnash to “sit!” Airwen sat immediately. Gnash cringed and took a knee. “I SAID SIT!” Siegfried shouted. “Okay, okay!” Gnash said, sitting on the deck. “Shake!” Siegfried barked. Gnash offered his scissorhand in greeting. “Okay, okay, cool.” “Paw!” Siegfried commanded. Gnash shook his head. “I don’t…what?” He raised his other claw. “Roll over!” Siegfried continued. “I’m not into that sort of thing, but fine,” Gnash said, obligingly somersaulting. “Good dog,” Siegfried said. “Heh, well, I do enjoy a good affirmation as much as anybody,” Gnash replied. “Now, stop pretending to be a goblin and tell me who feeds you,” Siegfried commanded. Gnash protested. “What you see is what you get, right?” Varien drew Fiendsbane and pointed it at Gnash’s throat. “That’s one lie.” Still crouching on the deck, Gnash let out a nervous chuckle. “All right, all right, so we’re playing this game, are we? Fellas, fellas. When I say ‘what you see is what you get,’ what I mean is, I am a goblin’s nightmare. All right? But I’m also living a nightmare of my own, in case you cared, because I can no longer be my true self thanks to these abominations,” he clacked his claws together. “But even I know when the jig is up. I am indeed what’s known as a barghest.” “A shapeshifting hellhound who has lost the ability to shapeshift,” Siegfried said. Gnash winced. “I’m temporarily embarrassed, okay?” “Three strikes and you’re out,” Airwen growled. “Whoa, okay,” Gnash said. “Erwen, remember you like dogs,” Siegfried said. “I like dogs,” Erwen repeated. “He’s a dog,” Siegfried said. “He’s a bad dog,” Erwen said. “Well, uh…” Gnash’s face fell. “There are no bad dogs,” Siegfried said. “There are dogs who have had bad masters.” “One more mistake and he’s dead,” Erwen growled. Gnash snapped his fingers with a metallic spark. “You know what? I think this is the perfect time to come clean with you guys. I’m really glad we’re having this conversation, though I wish it were elsewhere and under better circumstances, all right. Let’s speedrun this, okay? I am a barghest, like others of my kind I was created by the will of the General of Gehenna, and it is my sworn duty and living impulse to consume the souls of seventeen goblinoids who I have killed. When I do that, these souls are prevented from joining Magubliyet’s forces here on Acheron. Now, you may ask, ‘why seventeen? Why seventeen, Gnash?’ Well, let me tell you why. Because, uh, Magubliyet and the General of Gehenna they had an agreement and made several oaths, and Magubliyet broke seventeen of those oaths in his contract with the General. So the General of Gehenna says, ‘alright, I’m going to create this nightmare creature to terrorize goblin, hobgoblin, and bugbear alike and prevent you, o god of the goblins, from getting full use of their souls here on Acheron. All right? So, I was doing my job, quite well actually, but before I could get to my seventeenth soul, to placate the General, I was tricked, summoned, pulled back to Gehenna, without those souls in my possession. And usually when that happens, a barghest under those circumstances, becomes enslaved by yugoloths, or worse, annihilated, whatever, it’s awful. But, good ol’ Gnash here, he is an enterprising barghest, he is an entrepreneur, he’s consumed with self-preservation I think, moreso than others of his kind, so I skipped. Out of Gehenna. And now I’m trying to get to my quota through what I think is a pretty ingenious activity. You see, more than a few ambitious bugbears and hobgoblins, have made deals with devils like Rimmon, to avoid serving in Magubliyet’s armies here on Acheron, so what I like to do is, I’m trying to find their contracts and I’m trying to find their soul coins, and give back to the General of Gehenna what these devils have legally stolen. So, uh, that’s kinda what I do, you guys kinda surprised me there at the tower, while I was trying to close one of those deals, and I had to do what I had to do so you didn’t wipe me out along with the rest of those poor saps in the tower, alright? Now you know why I want to get into Rimmon’s private reserve, you know?” “So, you were made by a god,” Siegfried said. “As an orc, I can sympathize. You were made by a higher being’s tiny dick insecurities.” “I’m not sure that’s how the General would put it,” Gnash said. “It’s how I say it!” Siegfried said. “You were created to answer for another being’s insults, and that’s not fair.” Gnash’s eyes widened. “Hey, yeah! All right!” “That’s actually why I’m hear, to talk about the raw deal the orcs have been given. Did you know that we are built to be angry? To lose our temper? Just because an elf god named Corellion poked Gruumsh’s eye out?” “Yeah, I’ve heard the legends, believe you me,” Gnash said. “Yes, we’ve both had failures as creators,” Siegfried said. “And they should answer for that.” “You know, you need to talk to my current patron,” Gnash said. “You might have heard of him. Obould Many-Arrows?” “Get out of here!” Siegfried exclaimed. I just usurped the throne of the heir of Many Arrows!” “Well then, he might find that a very interesting story!” Gnash replied. “We should definitely talk to him on the way to Gruumsh,” Siegfried said. “Keep ol’ Gnash alive and Gnash will deliver you an audience!” Gnash said. “I think the two of you might hit it off.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ll tell you right now one of my side jobs is fomenting rebellion and revolution in the hobgoblin ranks in their strongholds here on Acheron. I do what I can, sowing dissention in the enlisted ranks, trying to turn the tide, because already I’m not in favour of hobgoblins gaining the upper hand in this endless war. So Obould has been very good to me, very good indeed.” “And we could liberate the goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears from Magubliyet as well!” Siegfried continued. “Harrumph!” Gnash harrumphed. “Well, now that we understand each other, let me show you the way to the Man himself!” “Yes, and a little bit of warning for anything that might harm us mortals along the way, if you please,” Siegfried said. “Sure, you’ve seen what this portal can do, I mean, you might have to deal with some ioun stone turrets and wandering security patrols. I don’t think the demon detectors are going to get you, though.”
“Gnash, now if we were to have a pit fiend walking among us, how far would that get us?” Siegfried asked. “Again with the pit fiend,” said Varien. “You’re not thinking-” Gnash considered this. “Well, I mean…” “If I claimed I had rank as a pit fiend, how far would being a pit fiend get me?” Siegfried asked. “In terms of blending in, you’d certainly fit in easily enough,” Gnash replied. “With some of this ship’s regular occupants, that is. But yeah, that’s one way to do it!” “Solid, I think this is a good idea,” Siegfried said.  He true polymorphed himself into a magnificent pit fiend. “All right Gnash, that’s enough,” Airwen said. “Lead the way.” He cast whirlwind and sent the barghest spinning down the hallway. He then howled and fell into step beside Siegfiend as if he was the devil’s dog, matching the pit fiend’s purposeful stride thorugh the airship’s corridor. Bob and Varien shrugged and fell in behind. “Look disheveled,” Siegfiend said over his spiked shoulder. He turned and bellowed down the hallway in Infernal, “STAND READY AT MY ARRIVAL, ANTS!” The party marched down the corridor past several illuminated pentagrams and reached an intersection. There was a mechanical whirring sound as a hatch opened in the ceiling and a construct popped down, looking like a clockwork cannon with glowing ioun stones whirling about a focusing crystal. The construct crackled with ethereal energy. “HALT!” an amplified voice barked from the construct. “IDENTIFY YOURSELF. YOU HAVE 20 SECONDS TO COMPLY.” Siegfiend lunged at the construct. “I WILL NOT BE ORDERED ABOUT BY LESSER FURNITURE!” Air-wen turned to Gnash the Slash. “Let’s get this party started,” he growled as he cast fire storm from his heartwood relic , which hung around his neck on a dog collar . “I have a feeling this room’s going to be lit!” There was an explosion and whoosh of flame as sheets of fire raced around the room, blasting the construct and billowing down the intersection in all directions. Siegfiend stood with his hands on his hips as the flames raged about him. “I admire your enthusiasm Erwen, however please bear in mind that devils are typically immune to fire.” Air-wen shrugged his haunches. “Whoa, fire!” Gnash screeched as he danced out of the way of the flames. “No, no, no!” The construct, flames licking its gearwork, rocked back on oiled gimbals. “YOU HAVE CHOSEN THE WAY OF…PAIN” One of the spinning ioun stones stopped behind the focus crystal aperture and blasted Air-wen with a bolt of magical energy. Air-wen was suddenly crippled by a wave of intense pain that wracked his body from tip to tail. His howls of rage turned to howls of agony as he collapsed to the deck, inconsolable. Siegfiend reached up, tore the construct from its mount with one claw, and bashed it with his infernal mace, smashing it to smithereens. There was a crackle of arcane energy as the ioun stones exploded. “I EXPECTED A BETTER RECEPTION!” Siegfiend bellowed. “THIS IS INSUFFICIENT SERVICE!” Spinning from the wreckage was a small coin, about five inches across, marked with infernal runes. It bounced and rang against the iron deck with a sound like a satanic bell. Siegfiend caught the soul coin on the first bounce and examined it. One of the coin’s faces had the likeness of a handsome devil and a large letter R inscribed upon it, likely a reference to Rimmon. The other face had runes that described the coin’s provenance, indicating where it was minted and that it was “good for all legal transactions within Baator” and, in small letters, a name. “Darius.” “Darius doesn’t sound like a goblin name,” Siegfiend huffed. He tried to speak telepathically to Gnash, but discovered that his telepathic spell wasn’t working. He tossed the coin to Gnash and continued down the hallway. Air-wen whimpered, favouring his paw, as he tried to drag himself down the corridor. He dropped out of wildshape and the pain disappeared. He then wildshaped back. Gnash pointed the way to the command deck. ‘Why are you giving him loot?” Air-wen whispered like a breeze to Siegfiend. “Gnash is full of shit anyways.” “Gnash has incentive to not steer us wrong,” Siegfiend hissed back, “and even if he does, you’ll kill him and we’ll get the loot back. If we keep him alive, I get to talk to his employer afterwards. More to the point, none of us know how to fly this thing. If he betrays us, he betrays us, but for the time being let’s assume he’s slowing opening up and learning to trust us. It’s like when a scared and nervous cub tries to bite you when you feed him. You’ve got to give them the benefit of a few nibbles while they’re still training.” “Upwards and onwards,” Air-wen said. “You just had to bring up the animal analogy. Now I’m totally on board.” “Yes, he’s just a puppy who had a bad owner. He’s a rescue,” Siegfiend said, warming to the subject. Air-wen wagged his tail as he looked at Siegfiend, then glared and growled at Gnash, before looking back to Siegfiend with a waggy tail. “It’s not his fault, and it sounds like his current employer is the most reasonable of the current orc deities,” Siegfiend reasoned. Siegfiend projected an aura of confidence as he strode down the hallway, to ensure any onlooker thought that he knew where he was going. For Gnash’s part, the barghest was true to his word, leading the party through winding corridors and passageways, deactivating the ooze traps wherever he encountered them, and generally playing the herald of Siegfiend. There was a crackle of static and a loudspeaker announced “DAMAGE CONTROL TEAM TO INTERSECTION THETA. INTERSECTION THETA.” Siegfiend smiled. The party remained unmolested until they arrived at a guarded entrance. Beyond the phalanx of guards was a circular staircase leading upwards. Gnash turned to Siegfiend. “Time for you to finesse these fiends,” he whispered. The leader of the squad looked like an over-armored, 12-foot-tall bipedal grasshopper with armor plates that radiated cold and boiling vapour like dry ice. The gelugon wielded a barbed spear. The ambient temperature dropped noticeably as the party approached. Under the gelugon’s multifaceted gaze were four fimbrul devils that looked like evil snowmen with teeth and claws like jagged icicles. The guards tensed at the approach of a pit fiend and air elemental. “You!” Siegfiend pointed a claw at the ice devil. “My business is with Rimmon. STAND STRAIGHT WHEN I ADDRESS YOU!” The gelugon drew itself up to its full height. “FALL IN FOR INSPECTION, YOU FROZEN DINNERS!” SIegfiend bellowed as he strut before the squad of devils. “IF I FIND ONE SNOWFLAKE OUT OF PLACE I WILL BUST YOU DOWN TO LEMURE AND SEND YOU SCREAMING TO AVERNUS BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU’RE DEAD.” The devils became as solid as ice and the gegulon stood frozen as he took the dressing down. “IS THIS THE STANDARD THAT RIMMON KEEPS ALL OF HIS SOLDIERS?” Siegfiend barked. The gelugon blinked its multifaceted eyes. “Sir! We were not expecting a parade inspection, sir!” “THAT’S WHY IT’S CALLED A SURPRISE INSPECTION YOU GRASSHOPPER!” “Yes sir!” The gelugon gargled. “C-Commander Rimmon is on the bridge, sir!” “WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT POSTING AT THIS LOCATION?” Siegfiend bellowed. “Sir! Guard duty, sir!” The ice devil replied. “AND WHAT ARE YOU GUARDING?” The gelugon gestured sharply with the end of his spear to the circular staircase behind it. “Sir! Access to the command deck, sir!” “WHAT IS YOUR NAME, GRASSHOPPER?” Siegfiend asked. “Sir, Optio Dundarth, sir!” The gelugon replied. “AND WHY SHOULD I NOT REPRIMAND YOU AND RESET YOUR YEARS?” Siegfiend bellowed. “Sir! That is of course within your purview, sir! Dundarth is a loyal guard who does not let unauthorized and unannounced intruders onto the command deck, sir!” “AND HOW MANY YEARS OF SERVICE HAVE YOU COMPLETED SO FAR?” There was a puff of frost as the gelugon braced itself. “Sir! Seven hundred and seventy-six, sir!” “AND HOW MANY DAYS LEFT IN YOUR CURRENT YEAR OF SERVICE?” “Seventy-one, sir!” Optio Dundarth replied. “SO CLOSE, SO CLOSE, YOU WOULDN’T WANT TO LOSE ALL THAT HARD WORK, WOULD YOU?” Siegfiend said. “No sir, I am a short-timer, sir!” Dundarth said. Bob, Air-wen, Varien, and Gnash crept behind Siegfiend towards the stairwell as the pit fiend kept the devils’ attention. Gnash and Air-wen glided silently. Varien struggled to keep his armour from creaking. Optio Dundarth’s multifaceted gaze flicked to the human paladin trying to sneak upstairs. “BRAVO OPTIO DUNDARTH!” Siegfiend bellowed loudly. “NEVER BEFORE HAVE I SEEN SUCH VIGILANCE! NOT EVEN ZARIEL HERSELF FIGHTING IN THE RIVER STYX HAS DEFENDED BORDERS AS WELL AS YOU HAVE DURING THIS TEST, IN THIS EXAMINATION! YOU MAINTAINED YOUR DUTY AND KEPT CAREFUL WATCH EVEN IN THE MIDST OF REPRIMAND AND A DRESSING DOWN THAT THREATENED TO RUIN YOU! I AM SO PLEASED WITH YOUR SERVICE THAT I HAVE HALF A MIND TO COMMEND YOU TO BECOME A PIT FIEND THIS VERY DAY!” Tears began to flow from the gelugon’s insectoid eyes, freezing instantly in ice-blue streaks on its mandibles. “YOU ARE THE ONE SHINING DESOLATION OF THIS INSPECTION!” Siegfiend thundered. “AND I WILL SOON BE PROUD TO HAVE YOU JOIN ME IN THE RANKS OF THE PIT FIENDS!” Optio Dundarth stood at attention. “Sir! I live to serve, sir! A thing most coveted is a thing worth waiting for, sir!” “EXCELLENT! NOW I SHALL CONTINUE MY INSPECTION AND DELIVER A REPORT TO RIMMON, RIGHT UP THESE STAIRS, CORRECT?” Siegfiend said. “Sir, that is correct, sir! Commander Rimmon is on the bridge, sir!” Optio Dundarth roared. “HE WILL BE MOST PLEASED TO HEAR MY REPORT!” Siegfiend replied. “I EXPECT GOOD THINGS IN THE FUTURE IN THE WAKE OF MY REPORT BASED ON WHAT I HAVE SEEN THIS DAY. STAY HERE AND CONTINUE YOUR WATCH.” Siegfiend brushed past the stunned gelugon and covered Varien’s ascension up the stairs. Optio Dundarth turned to his minions, positively beaming. “You see boys, you put in your time, seize the moment, and in that moment your future is decided. I’m going to listen to the sound of that pit fiend extolling my praises to Commander Rimmon, and I’m going to tell all the other short timers down in the hive that it was me who let him through. They all laughed at me – they thought this was a crap detail, one step up from mucking out the stalls of the Cerberus Spawn, but I sure showed them, this was a choice posting that put me over the top. I can’t wait to see the looks on all their faces when my promotion papers come through.” Optio Dundarth leaned towards the stairway expectantly. The party moved upstairs into an antechamber. Siegfiend turned to Gnash the Slash and asked where Obould Many-Arrows was located. Gnash hemmed and hawed. “Well, his citadel is on the Battle Cube, that’s for darn sure. This is one of the bigger cubes, definitely, but it will be easier for us to traverse the astral sea between cubes in this contraption.” “Very well,” Siegfiend said. He turned and hollered, “CHANGE COURSE – WE MAKE FOR THE NISHREK BATTLE CUBE AND THE CITADEL OF MANY-ARROWS! ADJUST ALL VECTORS ACCORDINGLY!” He strode forward. The party entered a hive of infernal activity. Winged imps flitted here and there delivering messages while others sat at strange stations with inscrutable instrumentation, speaking into message horns while hammering away on typewriter keys. Orders regarding targets, approach vectors, and positions were barked from the jaws of various officer devils who walked the crew pits, whips in hand. Looking forward, the command deck had large observation windows affording the bridge crew a nearly 180-degree view of the airship’s surroundings from the ventral command deck pod. The glass plates extended into the floor decking, allowing gunnery officers and bombardiers a bird’s eye view of the shattered surface of the cube far below, and the ant-like crawl of the orcish hordes over the battlefield. Here and there, incendiary bombs were bursting to great effect, and the scorching searchlights were sweeping hither and yon, carving up the terrain with hellfire. There was an honour guard of gelugons and fimbrul devils about the perimeter of the room, guarding the exits. Standing forward on a pedestal was a shapely chain devil whose hooked chains were connected to a steering apparatus embedded in the floor. In the very centre of the command deck there was a grand throne on a dais, and reclining supine upon it was a very large, resplendent devil idly taking sips from a glittering goblet as he watched the battle unfold before him. From the neck down, he looked like an overmuscled gelugon with insectoid chitin that featured a dusting of dragonscales, and limbs including a stinger tail, but from the neck up he bore a handsome humanoid head with two majestic horns, the envy of any pit fiend, balrog, or worse. “You may fire when ready,” the archdevil was murmuring imperiously to his minions as Siegfiend spoke. The archdevil’s goblet appeared to contain an icy concoction that he was swirling with flicks of his wrist as he delicately savoured each sip. “Oh, belay that pitiful attempt of an order, my lovelies.” There was a grinding noise as the dais rotated, allowing the party to come face to face with none other than Rimmon, former Lord of Cania, late Duke of Nessus. Rimmon’s horned eyebrows narrowed at the intrusion. “What in the hells is this?” he said in a voice dripping poison. “Who let this impostor onto my command deck? I would have their name, and their demotion will be at the top of the day’s agenda.” From the bottom of the stairwell, the adventurers heard a strangled “Oh no!” from Optio Dundarth. Varien stepped out from between Siegfiend’s legs, Fiendsbane in hand. Rimmon sighed. He snapped his fingers and an impish servant flitted over to accept the goblet from the archdevil’s outstretched claw. “Well then, this is most interesting, indeed,” Rimmon said, his arms crossed, claws clacking on chitin.   “Now, I only have one question: “Did Hutijin send you?” He shook his horned head. “No, impostor pit fiends aside, using mortals really isn’t his style. Of course, Mephistopheles wouldn’t challenge me directly, he’d send his errand boys instead.” At this he pointed at Fiendsbane. “Oh, you don’t know who this is yet, do you?” SIegfiend said darkly. “By all means, enlighten me before I have you destroyed,” Rimmon replied, his voice like ice. “This is the one Levistus tried to buy off,”  Siegfiend pointed at Varien. “This is the one from Lorelei. This is the one with the List, and he’s been crossing the names of the Sinister Seven off his blade. Not because he has any reason to, but because he likes it. This is the one who commands the Arcetalos.” “Ah, yes,” Rimmon sneered. “As for me, I just don’t want to walk to my next destination, so I’ll be having that seat, and I’ll be having your crew, and I’ll be having this ship. And he,” Siegfiend pointed at Varien, “will be having your soul.” Rimmon chuckled, throwing his horned head back. “I think the only thing you’ll be having is a hard time.”