Demiplane

Ginafae moves next to Zenithral to help him read the scroll, pointing out some of the tendencies in her brother's arcane script. The spell successfully takes hold and Zenithral vanishes from sight, and then Ginafae sits demurely in the seat by the desk.

Zenithral steps into his hiding spot just as the door opens.

From the corner of his eye, Zenithral sees a figure in rather extravagant red robes enter the room. Ginafae immediately drops to a kneeling position, face to the floor. "Enough of that, sister. What has transpired here? Several of my wards have been disturbed."

Ginafae obediently opens her mouth, but then flinches as the archwizard takes a step forward. As Zenithral strains to watch the exchange, his armor creaks slightly.

Malavon freezes, then looks about in alarm. A moment later, Fluphy toots down from the ceiling to land in Ginafae's lap. "I apologize, brother! I grew lonely, and so conjured a pet here to keep me company. If it displeases you, I shall be rid of it."

"How you pass your time in here concerns me not at all, Ginafae." Malavon turns to look about the room suspiciously, eyes tracing the bed, shelves, and walls. "Unless you are hiding from me something you should not!"

The drow wizard flicks his fingers, and a wall of webs covers the wall where Zenithral is standing, and the half-elf finds himself unable to move as the spiderwebs cling tightly."Who is your sneaky visitor, sister? At least two people entered this room since last last night - possibly more! At least one was an elf, and one was not." Malavon watches the conjured web intently, eyes seeking out just where Zenithral might be.

Zenithral speaks some words from his arcane archer training surrounded by extra syllables from the invisibility spell. He becomes visible, revealing his white hair and black skin."Half," he says in a correcting tone to Malavon. "And he's not a pet, he's my familiar." He jerks his head backwards towards Fluphy.

Malavon rocks back on his heels for a moment, then bursts into laughter. "Conjured a pet' indeed! Sister, the lengths that your 'loneliness' has gone to for 'company' astound me. And all this for a half-breed, no less? Where did you even find him?" He wipes his eyes. "Well... you know my rules about this place. I hope he pleased you, for now I shall have to kill him and put down a few extra wards."

The archmage steps toward Zenithral with hands raised. "Before I erase you from existence, have you anything to say, half-breed?"

"Please her?!" Zenithral says exasperated. "My dear man, you are quite mistaken. That pompous Pomab was leading a group of disguised devils before he was incinerated and left your domain wide open. I was investigating the door and fell to one of your traps and fell inside when it closed. If there's anyone who should be erased from existence it's that pretending priest Poquelin!"

He pauses. "I'm sure you're aware of a flumph's ability to transfer memories, yes?" he says. "He could prove it to you that I speak the truth!"

Malavon blinks. "You must be Zenithral Liadon."

He sighs and turns to Ginafae. "You saved him, didn't you?" His demeanor is suddenly cold as the grave. "And then you lied to me. You should not have done that, sister. We will... talk. Later." The way she shies away from Malavon indicates she knows that the discussion will not be pleasant.

Malavon turns back to Zenithral. "You know so much about Belhifet, hero? Tell me, what is his end goal?"

The wizard does not seem to care enough for Zenithral's flumph offer enough to even acknowledge it.

Zenithral winces. Idiot! Now she's going to suffer for trying to save your skin...

"Now hold on," Zenithral says. "I didn't mention the name 'Belhifet.' You knew you were dealing with devils all along. That, my dear man, sounds like you've been lying to your sister even more than she to you." He shakes his head, still stuck to the wall. "Regardless, I don't know what Belhifet's ultimate goal is, but he seems to be trying to use orc souls to turn the tide of the Blood War and help the devils win and conquer the planes." He shrugs. "Probably also usurp his superiors and take the throne for himself, so to speak."

Malavon's grin shows a number of pearly teeth, all the whiter for his dark skin. "You speak of these things like you understand him. You do not. How many decades have you lived? Multiply that - if you can - by a hundred, and you may be near to guessing how many centuries that creature has fought, bled, and plotted. One as short-lived and shorter-sided as you has no chance of truly comprehending all that Belhifet is. It is all a matter of perspective, and you have none to speak of."

The archmage puffs out his chest. "I have delved into the subject of this particular fiend, you see. Did you know that once, in battle against the demons, he ordered his legions to turn against the other infernal forces and slay them all? Even the demons were taken aback by the brutality of that unexpected slaughter.

He turned to the tanar'ri princes, then, and asked to join them. They were skeptical, of course, until Belhifet revealed battle plans that were soon to be put in motion by the baatezu generals, then offered to return to the Nine Hells and play along with his former allies, and betray them at a critical moment. The tanar'ri agreed, and everything happened as Belhifet promised it would.

With their trust gained, Belhifet fought on the side of the demons for a year and a day and then, finally, led the ruling Abyssal princes into a long-arranged baatezu ambush. The losses that the demons suffered that day put them on the defensive for more than a decade.

For achieving such a smashing success, Asmodeus himself awarded Belhifet with dominion over Avernus, the primary battleground of the Blood War."

Pleased with himself, Malavon folds his arms into his sleeves and raises a white eyebrow at Zenithral. "This is just one example of from a long list of accomplishments. Arrayed against such a foe, do you honestly believe you have any chance whatsoever of stopping - or even comprehending - whatever it is he has planned?"

"Odd. Belhfiet sent a good friend of mine down there to Zariel, who was in charge---Belhfiet a subordinate. It looks like he's been lying to you. Of course, as I said, he could be planning to usurp her." Zenithral metally slaps his forehead. "Ah, of course! Mavalon. I knew I recognized that name. A certain necromancer had you in her war journal along with many others... a usurper she called you...many eyes...well now I just feel stupid...even more so, that is... Zenithral trails off, losing confidence and zeal.

He sighs. You're right. At the moment, I don't actually think I can do anything to stop this plan. I'm just a bowman who wants to protect the Ten Towns and his loved ones...But what is it that you want, Malavon Despana?"

Malavon glowers, a sign that he does not appreciate his information not being up to date. "I tire of this conversation. Belhifet will want you brought to him, and let us just say that if I scratch his back, he will scratch mine."

His hands rise once more...

"No, brother!" Ginafae steps forward, back straight. "Let me have a bit of fun first. He was not so pleasing to me as I had hoped, for I had thought to seduce him and learn what I could of his party's plans. Why else would I save his pitiful life? Please, grant me this satisfaction that so often would have been denied you in Menzoberranzan. I promise not to kill him." As she grins widely, for a moment Zenithral can see the resemblance between the two drow.

At Malavon's pleased nod, Ginafae casts a spell of her own. A boulder of flame suddenly appears in the room, so hot that it warps the air around it. It bumps up against the wall of the demiplane, then rolls through the webs and across Zenithral, setting fire to everything around the half-elf. The flames run across the webs and over his body, and he feels the strands of burning webs fall all about him...

Zen takes 10 fire damage.

...and then Zenithral is free, his bindings reduced to ash.

"Run, Zenithral!"

As Ginafae launches the flaming sphere at Zenithral, Fluphy reacts and grabs onto her.

In an instant, three shadowy arrows fly Mavalon's way, but the illusory shroud seems to have no effect on the drow.

Hoping for the best, Zenithral unravels the scroll of Banishment and cries out the inscribed arcane words, channeling Fluphy's familiar nature to assist in the process. He becomes a blur and rushes out the door and out of Mavalon's line of sight.

(Used Action Surge, Arcane Shot, cast Expeditious Retreat)
HP 88/98 HP
17 AC

Feet sped by magic, Zenithral steps out of the demiplane and into what seems to be a luxurious suite, with finer decorations even than the study he just left behind.

Immediately he turns and looses three arrows back through the portal in the blink of an eye. Malavon holds up a hand to magically deflect them, and even succeeds in stopping one arrow dead in its flight. The second and third arrows, however, blast through his defenses. While the archmage staggers from the arrows puncturing his arm and side, Zenithral successfully rattles off the incantation for the scroll, and Ginafae vanishes with a *pop*.

Malavon lets out a rather undignified shriek of rage. "No! We have no idea where she will end up!"

There are not really any walls separating the rooms, but each location - bed, small kitchen, dining table, study, laboratory, shrine - is raised or lowered just slightly from the others, and has a vaguely circular shape. In all, it gives Zenithral the impression of an eccentric artist's custom-built home.

There is only one other door leading from the suite. With Malavon's gritted curses coming from the demiplane portal, Zenithral heads for the exit and runs outside.

Only it is not truly outside at all. Zenithral finds himself in some sort of spacious underground cavern, in the middle of what looks like a village market, except that everything is made of finely worked stone - although quite aged and neglected. There are small houses, shops, stalls, and several overturned, rotted wooden carts. The architecture all has the look dwarf work; sturdy, fine, and sized for shorter people.

Except that there are none of the bearded folk in sight. What Zenithral does see, however, are two large bipedal insectoid creatures. Each one has the size of an ogre and the musculature of Ug, but is covered in chitinous plates that rival plate armor, and a has great head with sharp mandibles and enormous bug-like eyes.

It takes only a glance into those multi-faceted eyes for Zenithral to realize the maddening danger there. These monstrosities can addle the mind as easily as rip a man limb from limb.

With a clack of mandibles the monsters surge forward towards Zenithral.

"Anywhere is better than with you, my dear man!" Zenithral says as he exits. (Malavon took 26 damage)

...

"Nope. Nope. Nope," Zenithral looks away from the creatures, adrenaline surging through him. His eyes alight, spectral wings sprout from his back, and he flies upwards and over a building, trying to gather his bearings. Cave. Underdark? No, dwarven...Duregar? No, they don't make such industrious artistry... Somewhere mountainous? If he was at Dorn's Deep, now that would be something...

Used Radiant Soul
HP: 88/98
AC 17

Zenithral's wings carry him up above the roofs of the buildings. As he turns about in the air, however, he nearly collides with a low-hanging stalactite. He just barely misses it, but the swerve costs him precious moments. As he straightens out, he hears chanting below him. Apparently Malavon has made it out of the rooms.

Whatever spell the drow is casting is hard for Zenithral to determine, as the drow seems to be just next to the umber hulks. There is no sound of them attacking the wizard, so Zenithral can only assume that they been trained somehow.

As panic sets in, Zenithral struggles to find anywhere that looks safe.

He hears the chanting and tries to identify the spell. If he knows the magician's intent, it could help him escape.

Zenithral opts to head in the direction of the main market road, trusting it to lead to an exit. Would getting out even help him, though? His best ally at the moment was time. If he couldn't survive, he had to make sure Ginafae did, and that meant eluding the drow for about a full minute.

He flies further away and dives down into an alleyway for cover. (Dash)

88/98 HP
AC 17

Zenithral concentrates on the arcane syllables, but recognizes little to go off of. But Malavon's spell he had designed... that was an evocation spell meant harness and redirect energy. Would the drow try some sort of fireball? Ducking for cover sounds like a good idea.

Only Zenithral realizes too late that the chanting has finished... and there is no fireball. What has the wizard done?

A moment later, the stone wall next to Zenithral erupts as one of the umber hulks tears through it like paper. The creature is strong, true, but apparently also capable of tunneling through solid stone at an incredible pace.

As it reaches for Zenithral, he realizes several things...

The creature is magically flying through the air.

He does not know where the second one is.

He is looking directly into this one's eyes.

The monster's claws grope for Zenithral, much like some large spider trying to grasp a small bird. The half-elf barely slips through the thing's grip.

Terror fills Zenithral. He didn't stand a chance alone. Purple light swirls down Zenithrals arm and he fires three desperate arrows into the creature, trying to banish it away for a moment's respite. (Umber Hulk takes 21 damage and must make a DC 15 CHA saving throw or be banished for a round.)

The creature vanishes is a spray of purple sparks and Zenithral flies and dives through a nearby window trying to find a half-decent hiding place.

Used last arcane shot
88/98 HP
17 AC