The Last Ride of the Zen JihadPostcards From the Abyss
Richard of Fusler
So I'm running from the demon-bugs with the rest of the jihad until
Doomsday swings by on his deathhorse thing and tells us all is ok with the
demons now. Apparently he has been in contact with the demon lord of
this plane, and the insect demons stopped attacking when he told them
about it. Of course, he told the demons before he told me. Typical.
After the battle, they pass around the regeneration ring. Not to me, of
course. They couldn't care less if I bleed to death here. I keep having to
swat away little bony worms that get too interested in my bandages.
I suppose if I went out there and threw myself at the biggest demon I
could find in every battle, they might start healing me, but I'm not playing
their game. No way--I've heard the stories. There's 160 corpses out there
who played that game. Most didn't last a month.
Anyway, we collect everyone together after the battle with the insect
demons and head back to the ruined city. Of course, I am assigned to stand
watch. I'm not good enough to be healed, no, but I guess I'm good enough to
stand watch.
You'll love this. Middle of the night, we hear this voice saying
"Doooooomsdaaaaaaaay, Doooooooooomsdaaaaaaaaaaay." So, after much
excitement it turns out to be a zombified old party member who had been
abandoned by the jihad years ago. He probably trusted the party and threw
himself at big demons and look at him now. As the deathpriest is fond of
saying, this guy looks "unwell."
So, ok, here we are in the Abyss to fight Orcus, king of the undead, or so I
was told--they wouldn't bother to tell me if we switched targets--and
they welcome the zombie like an old friend. They'll probably heal him, too.
I saw them heal the demon gnoll already.
After we've slept we head out again into the hot dusty plain. Nobody
bothers to mention where we are going and I don't ask. The
devil-worshipping paladin keeps staring at me. He'll get a fucking surprise
to the side of his head if he tries to pull anything. Guy went down like a
cheap whore when that 3-headed demon hit him. Even so, the jihad loaded
him up with as many magic items as he could carry, Standard reward for
dying pointlessly keeping a big demon from removing part of a mage's
stoneskin, I guess.
At least twice we meet demons and the self appointed head jihad honchos
talk to them. The first bunch of demons don't want to talk, but the second
time, on the distant outskirts of a large battle over a great rusty iron
fortress, the demons talk. These demons are heading to loot the city of
Razorforge, which sounds like a worthwhile endeavor, but the powers that
be in the jihad aren't interested. They're asking directions to the gates to
the levels of Orcus and Demogorgon and Scar's Bane. The demons point in
the directions of the gates. Two of them are on the plains, and the third,
Scar's Bane, just happens to be in the middle of a range of volcanos.
Guess where they decide to go? I break down and ask the spider what the
hell Scar's Bane is. It hasn't a fucking clue. Typical mage. Shouldn't
have bothered.
It's miserably hot and my wounds ache and I spend the entire march
cursing my luck. I should have been back in the Great Dale by now, with
Elise all impressed that I had almost gone to the Abyss over her. She'd
marry me and I'd be just one unlucky accident on the stairs away from
being Grand Duke. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
So we start climbing these mountains. They're black and sharp, flint and
obsidian as far as I can tell. The "dwarf" would probably know. He left the
party once, apparently, but nobody seems to hold it against *him*.
Bastards. At the top of the mountain, we can see lakes of molten metal on
either side of us, and more volcanos ahead. Off in the distance, a flying ship
circles over a burning city. Behind us, the battle over the iron fortress continues.
We trudge on.
Halfway up the second volcano, a swarm of firebreathing skeletal
bat-things pour out of cracks in the mountain and cut loose all over us with
the flame breath. We kill them all, but I'm burned pretty bad. Like
anyone would care.
I have the feeling things are only going to get worse . . .
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