Surya Home

Zabyrayt Calls
Welcome to Thanatos
The Dark Elf
Seraphiel - The Dark Angel
Naratyr
The Dark Captain Enters Naratyr
The Well of Souls
End Game
Azarrth's Doom
Gratitude of Demons

Zabyrayt Calls

Surya was working in his forge at Reital, one of the few places he could be alone these days. Alone, except for his trusted servant Talamos. Talamos was an iron golem of Dwarvish manufacture, skilled in the arts of blacksmithing. Given instructions in Dwarvish, Talamos could work metal very adroitly, sometimes without tools.

Surya's sword making was improving but it still needed a lot more practice. He looked up from his work to see a Gate open into another stone chamber, this one splattered with blood and body parts. Clearly not part of his forge.

Coiled in comfort amidst all this was the Marilith General Zabyrayt. She looked well in a daemonic sort of way, her new armour spectacularly well-made and elaborately decorated. Mighty demons in black mail surrounded the dais on which she lounged, facing outwards. Mindless manes trudged in and out of sight, labouring and moaning.

"Greetings, King of the Dead," she purred. Her tone was a blend of many things; respect, cruel humour, wariness of a possible rival, and a touch of fear.

Surya greeted the she-demon with respect, but added "Yes, I am a king, but not yet of the dead; if you want my help, don't mock me!"

She chuckled, a dark thrilling sound. "Were I to mock you, young mortal, tears would be spilling by now. I merely look to the future. It seems our Lord has commanded us to work together once more," she continued. "Your particular skills are needed once more. I've cast this Gate especially to deliver you, not here, but to where you're needed. Will you come?"

Surya asked her, "What manner of quest, or foe, would need my help when you command such obvious power yourself?"

Zabyrayt answered, "Power is relative. I have armies, slaves, war machines and the strategic genius to wage war across inconceivable areas. You have your matchless combat prowess, and those two blades, terrible and deadly. Both of us have our Lord's favour. What more could anyone need?"

Surya inquired further. "Please tell me more of our forthcoming work, if I am to help I must prepare."

She answered, "Lord Orcus has requested your assistance on the plane of Thanatos, his own home, where a battle has become... somewhat deadlocked. The commander of our armies there will tell you more details, but I believe it's a simple matter of fighting and slaying a general. Right up your street, as you mortals might say."

The two spoke for a while longer and it was agreed that Surya would help to break the deadlock, but he must prepare. They arranged for a similar gate to open and transport him to Thanatos at midnight in three days' time. The gate closed and Surya was once again alone in his forge.
Surya spent the next three days preparing to re-visit the lower planes. The last such visit had been to the plane of Minauros in Hell; this time, he was to travel to the Abyss.

The first place to start was his library. Surya discovered fairly easily that Thanatos was the 113th layer of the Abyss. It was a cold plane of ice, thin air, and dreary moonlit sky. It belonged as much to the undead as the demons, which was no real surprise as it was Orcus' home plane. Tombstones of every imaginable and unimaginable type dotted the landscape, sometimes alone, sometimes arranged as in cemeteries. The undead ranged everywhere there. It also had the 'minor negative-dominant' trait, which meant he would need some sort of protection as mortals would die very quickly there.

Naratyr, or the City of the Dead, was a cold realm carved into the surface of a frozen ocean. Naratyr's architecture was a frigid necropolis of tall mausoleums, towering funeral obelisks,
crypts, parapets, and carpets of undead hair. The city's warlike legions were reported to include retrievers, vampire giants and liches of all varieties.
The next day he approached the priesthood of Aderra, in one of the newer temples in Reital. They agreed to help Surya with the magic protection he required for his journey. Surya did, however, omitting to tell the priest where he was going - and why. A few days later Surya returned to the temple, and after making a large donation to the running of the church, took possession of a small gold ring.

In Surya's final preparations before his descent to the Abyss, he came across the following passage in one of his less savoury books:

"One of the most powerful demons in the entire Abyss, Graz'zt is lord of three layers of that plane. He is a tall, darkly handsome demon with shiny black skin and green, glowing eyes. Graz'zt dressed in regal finery, but his slightly pointed ears and yellow fangs mark him for the demon he is. Most striking of all are his digits: He has six ebony fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot. Tales were told among common folk that a dark-skinned fiend sometimes visits witches and sorcerers, granting them both sexual favours and magical powers. Graz'zt is the truth of that legend.

A deeply sexual, erotic being, the Dark Prince never goes anywhere without a retinue of female monsters-usually Lamias, Succubi, or Mariliths. He is dangerously charming and seductive, and he speaks with such eloquence and grandeur that one might think him a devil, not a demon.

Graz'zt has long been in a state of war with both Demogorgon and Orcus. At one point he had the upper hand in this conflict, but he was suddenly summoned to the Material Plane by an unknown mad archmage. There, he was imprisoned and subjugated until he was able to win his freedom at the cost of being imprisoned on his own plane for a time. No one knows if he is still under the restriction or not and he is certainly not telling. Whilst so imprisoned, Graz'zat conspired with Demogorgon in the toppling of Orcus and the selling of the latter prince to the forces of the Hells. His restrictions seemed not to prevent him conquering Orcus' plane of Thanatos and adding it to his own realms.

His symbol is a black, six-fingered hand."

Three days after Zabyrayt had appeared in the castle's forge, Surya was prepared and waiting. The demoness had said that the Gate would re-open again at midnight on the third day. He was ready, and as promised, deep under his fortress at the stroke of twelve, the air split and a portal opened.

Welcome to Thanatos

As Surya stepped through, he felt a rather uncomfortable sensation. The gate itself was inherently evil, and it slid through every inch of him in a very unpleasant fashion. Fortunately the feeling did not last very long and Surya found himself on a battlefield. Nothing too unusual in that, except that he was in the middle, between two vast armies of assorted demons. Surya very quickly found himself surrounded by four Balors. These huge snarling demons were obviously preparing to attack something, but what...?

Surya took a moment to get his bearings - which side was he supposed to be on? Neither side looked especially friendly to him. He turned to the Balors, two of them seemed more interested in killing the other demons than him, so Surya sided with them, if only temporarily. With Lordsguard to protect him, he drew Tormentor and flew at the giant demons. The Balors were quick but Surya was quicker. His sword cut deep into the first demon's head, neck and chest. With black blood pouring from its wounds the demon turned his full attention to the mortal king. The demon's huge greatsword flashed in glittering arcs of flame in the cold air, striking Surya four times in the chest and abdomen. Clearly Lordsguard was not the correct tool for this job. So Surya dispensed with his shield and drew the other cursed blade, attacking the mighty beast with all his might. This time the great demon fell under the dreadful assault. Without a moments pause Surya moved to attack the second Balor and sliced one of his horns clean off with his first blow. Surya pressed home the attack, dealing blow after dreadful blow to the creature's body, until finally a devastating strike to the enormous creature's head brought him crashing down to the floor.

Surya now turned to the two remaining demons and levelled his swords against them. "Who's next?" he demanded. The two Balors gaze down at him with some interest. There was a moment's pause; they were obviously thinking. Then one of them smiled, "You are expected," it said in a deep voice "Come with me."

Surya retrieved his shield and followed the demons. At the first opportunity, he took out one of the many staves he carried from his Bag of Holding and healed his wounds with it. He had become quite used to repairing his own body. Not having the Hand of Kord to patch him up after each fight was no longer a problem. But there were fewer fights nowadays, probably because Hildraft was not around to start them in the first place...

Surya began to pass through a vast army of demons and undead, the usual Abyssal pile of thugs. Mostly Dretchs and Vrocks, with a small contingent of low power undead such as Zombies, Wraiths and Wights. The demons looked a bit dispirited, as if they'd been camped there for a long time. Finally he reached the middle of the army; ahead he could just make out fortifications made from boulders dislodged from the cliffs and from magical effects such as walls of fire, ice and iron. Surya presumed that beyond this was the problem.

Surya attempted to gleam information from his demon chaperones, he got the feeling that they'd much rather eat his kidneys than play bellhop. But they had their orders. So grudgingly they revealed that their army had been held up here for nearly a month, within striking distance of Naratyr, by an army of Hezrou and Nalfs. The natural bottleneck of the Skanthorn valley prevented any circumvention, to win, they would have to break through.

The demons led Surya to a slight knoll on which a pavilion had been placed. Seated outside this marquee was a single figure, clearly in charge, with demons coming and going at his orders.

The Dark Elf

Surya made his way through the mass of, horned, scaled and armoured monsters and approached the figure. The creature was shorter than Surya, slight rather than powerful, but humanoid. Yet the demons deferred to him, with a noticeable trace of fear.

The mortal was black-skinned with milk-white hair. He had the look of an Elf about him, a Dark Elf, one of the Fae Mhor. Surya had met his kind before and his first instinct was to kill him instantly. Surya remembered that these creatures could not tolerate bright light and were disorientated in daylight - where was Sack and his Blade of the Sun when you needed him?

Surya, for the time being, put aside these thoughts and greeted the Dark Elf. "The King of New Tellare, at your service." he said ironically. The Dark Elf looked him up and down without haste. "Surya the Black. I can see why our Lady sends you. Armour, weapons, all the sort of thing you will need." He continued, "I am Xanavan, commander of this army."

Surya replied, "It's an honour to meet you, shall we have tea or shall I go and remove your problem?" The Dark Elf gestured for Surya to follow him in to his pavilion. Once inside Surya continued; "Armour, weapons and ten thousand demons you have, so why do you need me?" The Dark Elf offered Surya a goblet of very fine wine and responded, "Demons, demons, demons. All I can use, damn them," he smiled a bit at the irony of that. "But they think like demons, and the other demons over there," he pointed towards the enemy encamped further up the Skanthorn valley, "think like demons, and they can't break their lines. Both sides are equally balanced, including their commanders. A very skilled and experience creature." He paused to take a sip of the wine.

"That's where you come in. I need a death dealer, someone who thinks outside the box, has powers demons do not, can take them by surprise. Most of the powerful undead and the mortal mercenaries are away fighting elsewhere in the plane."

Surya, rather impudently, partly due to the wine and partly due to his lack of trust of the Fae Mhor, said "Orcus can command millions of undead, so just get on with it." Xanavan responded rather sharply, "As I said, most of the undead and the mortal mercenaries are away fighting elsewhere in this plane. Our Lord is rather stretched at the moment and can not commit further forces here."

Changing the subject slightly, Surya ask who commanded the enemy force. "Aha. I can see you're intrigued at the idea of a prestigious kill!" Xanavan said. "She is a unique creature, once one of Lord Orcus' trusted servants, but seduced away by Gra'zat. Half fiend, half celestial, our enemy is the Dark Angel Seraphiel." The dark Elf paused, his tone had now changed to one of admiration. "Unlike myself, who specializes in strategy and tactics, Seraphiel, though skilled in the theories of warfare, is a warrior of great renown. Hence our desire to recruit the most famed swordsman on the material plane!"

Surya thanked Xanavan for the compliment. He now understood the problem here, and ideas were floating round his head, helped, of course, by the rather pleasant wine. Maybe a bit of lateral thinking was required here, he thought. Surya had no intention of fighting through thousands of demons to get to his quarry. In the past, he had relied heavily on his allies to resolve similar problems, but his allies were rather thin on the ground here.

Surya tested his plans on the Dark Elf. "Would it not be prudent to seduce her back, she will make a better ally than a dead foe?" Xanavan smiled and answered "Of course! All you must do is subdue her and return her here. Or of course convince her yourself...." he sounded a bit amused, as if these where rather extreme challenges.

Surya had not meant for himself to seduce her back, surely one of her own kind would be better suited to that; what could he offer her? Back-pedaling, Surya went on, "Sorry, I thought I was sent to kill their commander, not bring her back to the fold, I don't think I can help you here, sorry, you have the wrong swordsman - you need a talker - not a killer."

Xanavan, a bit confused by Surya's comments, said, "You were brought here to kill her. I didn't suggest you did otherwise, and I don't think you can convert her at this stage. But shorn of her tactical skill, the army of Gra'zat in Skanathorn will crumble, and we will win this battle. The rewards," and here his eyes seemed to light from within with a not very nice light, "will be great."

Surya inquired, "What rewards? I'm a swordsman, and the greatest sword ever made I have already wielded, what more can you offer me?"

The Elf replied, "I, nothing but dross to support you and information to guide you. Lord Orcus! Anything. Whatever you desire he can satisfy. Trust me."

Just one word crossed Surya's mind - never.

Surya took his leave of the Dark Elf and was shown to his quarters. After a few hours rest, he put some thought to the problem. It would appear that Orcus, freed by Surya's own hands, had launched an invasion of Thanatos to reclaim it as his home. The Demon Lord was still rallying demons to his side. His main force consisted of the undead which were fighting on many fronts on this plane, hence the rather low-powered force trying to crack the Skanathorn valley. Xanavan came across as a very skilled tactician and more than likely a very competent general in the field. It would therefore follow that Seraphiel must also be something special if she was holding him back. Seraphiel was regarded as a skilled warrior and her famous bodyguard, the Arrowheads, eight pseudo demons, also had an awesome reputation.

Killing Seraphiel was not going to be easy. Maybe seducing her back in to the service of Orcus was not such a bad idea after all, Surya thought. He would attempt to contact her and then, like many of his previous plans, see what happened next.

He took a large finely wrought mirror of highly polished silver from his Bag of Holding, propped it upright against the wooden table and then began to weave his scrying magic upon it. This was not going to be easy, as he had only second-hand knowledge of the creature. With the spell complete, Surya focused on the mirror. A few seconds later the reflection changed, revealing a tall, winged figure in black armour. The spell had been a success. The figure, quiet obviously female, then spoke to him.

"What can I do for you, human?"

Surya answered, "Are you Seraphiel, commander of the force guarding the Skanathorn valley?"

"I am, who are you and what do you want?"

Surya introduced himself. "I am Surya, King of New Tellare, and I have been sent by Lord Orcus to assist in the taking of this valley."

She replied, "I am here, at Lord Graz'zt's request, to prevent this from happening. You are a long way from home, mortal, return there unless you have anything further to say that may interest me."

"I wish to discus your return to Lord Orcus service."

This took the Dark Angel by surprise and there was a short pause. Then suddenly her armoured hand appeared to pass through the mirror and touch Surya on the forehead. "Come, join me and we can discuss this matter further in the flesh. I have seen to it that no harm will come to you as you cross over." The hand withdrew back into the mirror and the vision of Seraphiel was gone, leaving Surya to ponder how she had managed physical contact through a scrying spell.

Surya left his quarters and made his way through the ranks of Xanavan's demons to the front. He climbed over the make-shift barricade of rocks and ice, marking the front line. Several of the nearest demons tried to stop him, suggesting that his actions were suicide, but Surya just brushed them away and continued into no-man's-land. The area between the two opposing forces was littered with the dead and dying. The rotting corpses of demons and the twisted lifeless forms of the undead were everywhere. As he approached the opposing enemy, his instincts took over and his hands gripped the swords at his waist, but he did not draw them.

Directly in front of him was a large group of huge demons, Nalfeshnees. These creatures, each over twenty feet tall and a grotesque blend of ape and corpulent boar with tiny feathery wings, just watched and allowed him to pass. Uneasily Surya made his way through the ranks of rival demons to the command tent of Seraphiel.

Seraphiel - The Dark Angel

As he approached the tent he was greeted by two giant Balors who escorted him inside. Seraphiel looked up from a tome she was studying as Surya entered her command centre.

"Greetings mortal king, wyrmslayer and saviour of Alair."

She had clearly done her research in the short time he had been crossing the battlefield. In person she was a formidable sight. Standing over seven feet tall, clad in heavy black armour, she was extremely beautiful with long golden hair spilling over her broad armoured shoulders. Her celestial heritage was clearly visible as she adjusted her black feathered wings, gestured him to sit, and offered him refreshments. Resting by her side was a great sword and a huge metal shield. The shield was decorated with an eight-pointed star. Surya knew the double significance of this symbol, designating the arms of Chaos and her guards the Arrowheads, which were never too far away.

"So, human, you wish me to change sides again. What can you offer me?" she said, with a hint of innuendo.

Surya started, "I? Nothing- " She interrupted, "I doubt that."

Surya coughed and continued, "I offer you nothing, but wish to discover if you would be amenable to the idea of joining me in doing Orcus' bidding. If you are, all I need to know is at what price."

"Command." answered the Dark Angel. "Complete command, of all of Orcus' forces. I hear he has imported some snaky bitch in my place, she must be dismissed. Can you offer this?"

Surya responded, "No, but I can ask. I will return and speak with him immediately and then I will contact you with his answer."

Surya then took his leave of the half-celestial and returned across the battlefield. No sooner had he crossed the barricade, than Xanavan approached him. The Fae Mhor was very keen to know what Surya was up to. "Where have you been, and what have you done?" he demanded to know.

Surya responded sharply. "I have been trying to end this fight, a task you have been unable to perform. I wish to speak to Lord Orcus, please arrange it - now."

Surya followed Xanavan back to his pavilion through the lines of their own demons and undead. They entered the tent and Xanavan gestured Surya to wait while he prepared. He them removed parts of his armour and stood in front of a large mirror to cast his scrying magic. The reflection slowly changed and instead of the Dark Elf's reflection he could now see Orcus and many of his commanders, including the Marilith General Zabyrayt.

Orcus spoke in his immense voice. "Greetings, Xanavan, doubtless you have good tidings for me, the Skanathorn is yours and you march on my capital."

The Dark Elf was now shaking with fear as he addressed the Lord of the Undead. "No, my Lord, the valley is still in the hands of your renegade servant."

Orcus boomed, "Then why do you bother me, Fae Mhor?" Still shaking, with the colour now visibly draining from his face, the Dark Elf answered, "Sorry, my Lord, but your emissary wished to speak with you," Xanavan then turned to Surya, who stepped up to the mirror.

"Greetings, Lord, my apologies for the interruption, but I beg a few moments of your time," he began. Orcus replied, "Time is a commodity that I have in abundance, as my generals are failing me," he glanced across at Xanavan, "What is it you want, mortal king?"

Surya, feeling uncomfortable in the presence of the demon Prince, continued. "As you are now aware, the battle to take the Skanathorn valley is not going to plan. Even if you commit more forces to this cause, we will still be here for months, maybe even years." Surya's mouth was starting to dry, but he continued, "I have spoken to the commander of the opposition and I believe we can end this now, but there is a price."

Orcus, now not looking quite so angry, asked, "Who is their commander?" A rare smile appeared on the demon's face when Surya told him who was in charge. "What is it she wants?" he asked Surya.

Surya paused as his gaze crossed with that of Zabyrayt, she is not going to like this, he thought. "She wants command of all your forces." Silence fell on both sides of the mirror. Orcus broke the silence. "She is a turncoat, why should I grant this request?"

Surya, defending the Dark Angel, said "She was once one of your best, she stands now between you and your capital, and if she is brought back into the fold our combined force will take Naratyr very quickly."

Orcus thought for a few moments and then said "Very well, if she can prove herself, I will grant this. We will speak again when you have taken back my city." Orcus then waved this hands and Surya was staring at his own reflection once more.

Surya, weary, after the experience, turned to Xanavan and said, "I need a drink after that." Without saying a word the Dark Elf, who was still on his knees and had clearly found the experience shattering, just pointed to the table. Surya helped the Elf to his feet and then poured out two goblets of wine. He passed one to Xanavan and drank deeply from the other.

Surya finished his wine and said "Well, that went better than I expected, now all we must do is take the city." Without another word, he left and returned to his quarters.

Once back in his tent, Surya wasted no time in contacting Seraphiel. He had just started the scrying incantation when he noticed that Xanavan was now standing about thirty feet outside his tent. He appeared to be casting a spell, but at this range Surya could not discern its' nature. Assuming the worst, the Human king grabbed his shield and drew his sword Tormentor as he rapidly made his way from the tent towards Xanavan, who was now pointing his finger at him. Surya could see a glowing, pea-sized bead streaking from the mage's hand towards him.

Before Surya could exit the tent it blossomed into a huge fireball. Fortunately for Surya, the fireball had caught one of the tent's guy ropes and detonated early. The fireball exploded with a low roar and flames filled the tent. The fire spread quickly, and within moments the entire tent was ablaze. Surya was by now at full tilt, and leapt through the flames to engage the Dark Elf in hand to hand combat. The Elf had just enough time to draw his rapier before Surya's blows hit home. The Elf took several wounds to his head and body, this sorcerer was no match for Surya's swordsmanship, and he started to cast a very hasty spell. Surya moved in for the kill, but before he could attack again, Xanavan vanished.

"Never trust a Fae Mhor, stick to demons," he thought.

He turned to the tent, which was still burning, and ordered a few of the nearby demons to retrieve his belongings from it. The demons didn't seem to mind the flames and soon had Surya's possessions out of the burning pavilion.

Surya now took up residence in Xanavan's command tent and summoned to him the commanders of the Dark Elf's army. Most of them were demons of one kind or another, and seemed unsurprised when Surya informed them of the, if only temporary, change in command. He issued his first order which was to remove the barricades which had kept the two forces apart for months and allow free and safe passage for their new brothers-in-arms. He dismissed the demons and set about contacting Seraphiel using the mirror that Xanavan had used to contact Orcus, as his own was in need of repair after the fire. The mirror worked just as well and in a few moments of casting the scrying incantation the image of the beautiful Dark Angel appeared.

Surya greeted Seraphiel. "I have spoken to Lord Orcus, and he is prepared to consider your request to command all his forces on Thanatos, but you must take Naratyr first. Are these terms acceptable?"

"The terms are very acceptable, I will begin my preparations to combine our forces and will join you soon to discus battle plans and command structure."

"I have ordered the removed of the barricade and given instructions for the safe passage for your forces," Surya informed her. She looked quizzically at him. "You? I thought Xanavan was in charge?"

Surya smiled. "He has relinquished command to me and fled the field, he has discovered that sword play is not his strong point and that he had no wish to share power and glory with us. Please join me at your earliest convenience, for I am eager to hear your battle plans."

The Dark Angel said, "With your leave then, I will organise our forces in preparation for battle and join you soon."

Surya broke the spell and the image of the Dark Angel vanished. Now that he had the tent to himself, he looked around his new quarters. One of the first things that caught his eye was a large brazier. On closer investigation he recalled a similar device he had seen before, built around a fountain. That had operated in a similar way to a Bag of Holding, producing a tiny private demi-plane in the Elemental Realm of Water wherein to store things. The brazier seemed to work on a similar principle, but done with fire.

While Surya puzzled over the Brazier, the tent flaps parted and Seraphiel walked in, folding her black wings as she poured herself a goblet of Xanavan's best wine.

"Will Xanavan not mind you pinching his best wine?" Surya enquired of her. "Do you know where he is," he continued on a more serious tack, "as I believe he would love to spoil this party, I do hope he is in Naratyr."

"I agree he would not like to see me, sorry us, succeed," she answered, calmly. "He may put in an appearance before the end. But it is too late for him to try to earn himself a command under Graz'zat now, we march in an hour. I cannot see him trailing the puissant pike in the ranks! He may, though, be in the city."

Surya asked who now commanded the armies of Naratyr and could they not be brought on side.

"Graz'zat's commander in this place and time is a Balor of peerless might named Azarrath. He has served the Dark Prince since the Birth of Evil, and loathes Orcus. He would never turn. If we are to win today he must be driven from the city, and preferably the plane."

Seraphiel finished her wine and declared, "My armies are ready." Then turning to the map table, she gestured casually and coloured markers appeared, moving across the human-skin chart to form an arc around the city of Naratyr. More markers appeared within the city, some blinking from one size to another, indicating uncertainty as to strength. Looking closer, Surya could see they actually showed tiny figures of demons and mortals, illustrating composition.

The largest body of Seraphiel's troops was at the apex, opposite the gates. In there midst, a single figure sat astride a horse-like creature. Unsurprised, he saw that this represented himself.

Surya studied the map with great interest and told her, "It would be a great honour to lead your troops in to battle, if they will follow me." Reminding her of an earlier conversation they had had, he added, "You said you have a use for me, was that really to lead your troops - surely one of your own kind would be better?" Surya recalled how she had organised and rallied the troops after their victory.

"I may have many uses for you," she replied, and this time the innuendo was brazen, "but this will comprise a test and forging of your power. My skills are strategic and tactical, yours are yet tactical and physical. Your potential as a leader is barely awakening. On the anvil of the Blood War, under the hammer of my command, the metal of your strategy will be forged for my use. Learn at my knee and you too will command the armies of the Blood War. There is nothing finer!"

Surya asked of her "What will be my mount for the battle, will it be a dragon?" She laughed. "The dragons of the Abyss serve the Queen of Many Colours and of None," she pointed out. "You could ask her to give you one of her children as a battle taxi, but I understand she does not hold you in her favour!"

Surya gulped, and then looked surprised. "How do you know of my little disagreement with the Queen of Dragons?"

For a moment she slipped into the 'cant' of the planewalkers of Sigil. "That is common talk on the lower planes. Cutters are lining up to stake their jink on when she'll get you." She laughed again "It doesn't affect what we're doing here though."

"I have bound a Nightmare of the greatest power to your service for this battle;" Seraphiel went on, "his True Name is Yeluzal, though you may call him Saethor in company." The arrogance and power bespoken by this casual handing-out of a True Name took Surya's breath away. With it, he could summon, bind, or command Saethor at will. In all his time, he had never learnt a True Name, not one, and she had just given him this one. Surya asked why she had given him such power over his mount and she answered, "I prefer to have proper control over my vassals, and you should do the same."

Turning to thoughts of the up and coming battle, he enquired where she would be during the fight. "Aloft! When a real battle looks like that," she gestured at the map, "decisions are so much easier."

The meeting came to an end and both made their final preparations for war. Surya spend some time familiarising himself with his new mount. He soon got the hang of riding a Nightmare, it was very similar to riding any other horse, just a little bit warmer.

An hour later, the combined armies of Xanavan and Seraphiel formed up and moved out across the gloomy, sepulchre-studded plain, with a tall mortal king, Dragonslayer, Elf-Friend, heir to a hundred generations of warlike ancestors, bearer of cursed blades at their head, and the Dark Angel soaring above.

Naratyr

Ranged at the front of a motley army of around ten thousand demons, Surya moved across the plain to the city of Naratyr. Graz'zat had made some changes, but basically the place still looked as Orcus designed it - a terrifying mausoleum.

Naratyr, city of the Dead, was a cold place carved into the surface of a frozen ocean. The architecture was a frigid necropolis of tall mausoleums, towering funeral obelisks, crypt parapets, and carpets of undead hair.

With an army of demons, of course, there is no for need of siege weapons, and very soon fireballs and other magical projectiles were flying back and forth, battering the walls and winnowing the troops. Fires could be seen burning in the city before long. Aloft, those demons capable of real flight twisted and turned in battle in the murk, and among them Seraphiel carved a bloody track.

Finally a Wall of Iron was cast over one of the walls and was not dispelled quickly enough. It crashed down and a breach was made. A howl of triumph went up from Surya's troops, and his commanders looked to him for the order to charge.

They did not have to wait long. The King of New Tellare, protected by Lordsguard and with Tormentor by his side, spurred his demon mount towards the breach, readying his lance to bring it to bear on any creature that got in his way. With a roar, the army started forwards and launched itself towards the city of Naratyr. From the ragged hole in the wall, hordes of demons and mortal warriors emerged and braced themselves to meet the mortal king's forces.

The velocity with which the two forces closed was terrifying. Surya had travelled faster, especially riding dragons, but those were basically transport. He had never gone into actual battle at anything like this speed. Many of the demons moved faster than any horse possibly could, and Saethor was faster than any of them. At the head of a snarling wedge half a mile across, Surya and his mount tore across the plain at unbelievable speed.

Even Surya's iron nerves were tested at the point of impact, as thousands of slavering, slashing, tearing demons crashed into each other and started to fight. Seldom had the word 'Chaos' been so well illustrated. Many weapons beyond the merely physical were used; spells, magical effects, psionics. A bewildering blur of combatants roiled around him, and for the first few minutes it was all he could do to stay alive.

Finally, Surya cleared a relatively free space and was able to take stock. Seraphiel's main force, led by himself, had driven about half-way through the breach and was fighting fiercely to push up, a counterattack from inside was imminent. Behind him, a sally from the city was attempting to encircle his army, but Seraphiel had thrown in her reserves and kept them off his back. The battle in the air was largely over, leaving the Dark Angel and her aerial minions in control of the skies.

They had made good progress, but they had yet to push on through the breach and establish a bridge-head. With Surya's example to follow, Seraphiel's army took heart and attacked with renewed vigour. The breach was taken, though with terrible losses as is usual with such actions, and his troops spilled into the streets beyond.

Surya had hoped that the reserves would fight their way through and join his main force, but the battle on the plain was more widespread than at the breach. Whereas at the breach the action was of necessity concentrated, out at the rear the two forces were able to spread out and mesh together in a sprawling pitched battle. Neither side could disengage, nor wished to, the demons were revelling in the carnage they were creating. There would be no reinforcements for Surya, not until the battle on the plain was over.

The Dark Captain Enters Naratyr

With the bridgehead now in place, Surya's forces began to take the outer walls, opening up more gates as they went. He now held an area about a mile either side of the breach and had opened up three more gates. However, the city itself was not secure, and attacks from inside came more and more often. One of his lieutenants, a Hezrou called Nyogaten, became impatient with the apparent lack of progress and sent a fairly large force of Vrocks into the streets as a counterattack. None came back.

Street fighting will not win this one, Surya thought. More and more gates were opening and most of the outer walls had been secured. Surya used some of the more powerful demon's magic to firebomb the city from the walls and other secure areas. Once the area had been softened up, he would be able to move in to take the city. With Seraphiel now having control of the skies, Surya asked her to bomb the inner city from above.

Some of his commanders looked a bit taken aback at the idea of bombarding their master's capital, but if Seraphiel had doubts she didn't show them. Soon missiles and fire were raining down on the buildings of Naratyr. There was some return fire, but it was desultory, and the concentrated assault soon quelled it.

The battle outside the city was going well, once it was won the full force of their army could be brought to bear on the city, but by the nature of the combatants it could only end in extermination for one side or the other. And that could take some time....

A few more of Surya's lieutenants became impatient and tried to take command of the situation. He could ill afford to waste more troops, as Nyogaten had done, strong leadership would be key here. A few bloody lessons from Tormentor actually increased their respect for him. In the well-worn idiom, it was the only language they understood, though Surya would have to watch his back.

As he designed his strategy for the reduction of the city, he took on board any good ideas from his commanders, after all, they knew far more about fighting demons than he, and many knew the city itself. Any intelligence that fell into their hands was scrutinised. If this is a city of graves and mausoleums, Surya thought, there may be warrens of underground passage-ways or interconnecting crypts. He looked for any weaknesses to exploit.

Once the city had been softened, Surya turned the demon artillery on the opposing troops outside the city. There was little or no point taking the city if they lost the battle outside the walls.

When the control of the city walls was complete, and with the battle outside was going their way, Surya pressed on into the city. The attack would be on many fronts, above and below ground, but he did not leave the walls completely unsecured - just in case. He personally led one of the underground sorties and headed for Azarrath's headquarters. Once Graz'zat's commander had been dealt with, the fighting should stop.

Several of the older demon commanders had lived here before the fall of Orcus, and knew the lie of the land. With their input, which was now enthusiastic, his forces entered into the underworld of Naratyr. The maze of crypts and tombs under the city was mind-boggling, and all were filled with corpses.

Surya called on Orcus's power to use the dead as allies. His meagre powers would normally raise just a few undead warriors, but here in Orcus's power base who knew what he would be capable of? The results were staggering. The power flowed more smoothly than it had ever done before, rank after rank of corpses climbed out of their unquiet tombs to slay Azarrath's demons, armed themselves from the bodies of the dead, and went looking for the next victim. Individually, a skeleton or zombie was no match for a Nalf or Glab, but in tens and hundreds they overwhelmed them. There seemed no limit to the number who would answer Surya's summons. And as he marched past, deeper into the city, they turned one and all to his steel tread and bowed, hissing "Masssterr".

Within a few hours, the city was his, all but for the central citadel, which was defended to the point that forces of lesser demons and regular undead were shredded before they reach the walls.

With the city under control, Surya now turned his sights on the hitherto impregnable citadel. He made the attempt to open a dialogue, but this was unsuccessful. All efforts so far to take Azarrth's command post had failed. What was shredding the lesser demons and undead? Surya pondered. Most of those who got a look at it didn't come back, but eventually reports came in of human-sized attackers with four arms each, wielding four blades and apparently immune to magic. After much effort one was captured and brought to Surya for interrogation.

The prisoner gave his name as Xan, and his race as the Remoch, but would say no more than that. Surya took a personal hand in the interrogation, but Xan proved very resistant to his questioning. Finally, it was only the darker powers of the damned blades that were sufficient to cow him. Once it was apparent that resistance to the death would only result in his corpse being made to talk anyway, he became more co-operative.

The Remoch, it emerged, were a human people from a parallel Material plane. They worshiped demons, and also appeared to have served Xanavan at times, whom they named 'the Summoner'. Xan and his fellows were the cream of an entire plane's warrior society, sent to serve their Abyssal master in his hour of need.

It transpired that a thousand Remoch had come to Thanatos at Xanavan's call; slightly more than eight hundred remaind. These warriors were the best of their people's fighters, and this was why Surya's forces were having such a hard time against them. Surya probed deeper, wishing to find out why his magic was failing against the citadel. Xan explained that the counterspelling of the bombardment was done by 'the Lords' and he seems to feel that prying into their secrets was presumptuous or blasphemous. Despite persuasion and threats, Surya got no further information from Xan.

Whatever the powers inside the citadel were, they were quite equal to the fiendish 'artillery' he could bring to bear. Almost everything was dispelled down before it got to the walls. Finally there was no choice left, and Surya gathered up the best of his force for a tactical assault. By this time Graz'zat's forces outside the city had been completely annihilated, it had been a close thing, though, and only a couple of hundred of Seraphiel's troops were left alive.

26th December 1607

So together Surya and Seraphiel lad a force comprising the toughest of the remaining demons and the few surviving mortal mercenaries of any quality against the central donjon of Naratyr.

They approached the citadel, but strangely there was no resistance or harassing fire as they went up the ramp towards the gates. Even stranger, the gates opened at a touch to an empty fortress. Exploring, they found no sign of life, and as they moved through the passages and halls their path was inexorably drawn towards the central feature of the structure. Surya had been briefed on this beforehand, and was well aware of its dangers.

The Well of Souls

The Well of Souls, also known as The Pits of Orcus, was as near to a throne hall as the Prince of the Undead had ever got. As the party passed cautiously under one of the crumbling carven arches that formed the entrances to the structure, it opened out around them in all its' terrible majesty.

In form, it was a circular pit half a mile across, stepping downwards in concentric circles of stone. Each tier was occupied by thousands of petitioners or soul shells, the forms in which the evil unfortunates whose ultimate destination is the Abyss spend eternity. Pitiful, tormented, hopeless, the souls of the damned were fastened to the layers of the Well to suffer.

And suffer they did, screaming and moaning, pleading and weeping; the souls of the dead created an indescribable volume of such sound as to rend the heart.

At the focus of this cone of despair was Orcus' throne, a heap of skulls ten feet high mounded into a seat; but it stood empty.

It was quite apparent to Surya that the Well was a massive necromantic power focus, similar in function to that embodied in the Sword of the Dead Legions which he carried. He could use this power to defeat Azarrath, he realized, but at what cost to himself? For a moment he was tempted, but the moment passed. The usage of the tortured suffering of so many souls for his own ends, especially in support of the goals of demons, was an act of quite definite evil. The power available was immense, but the taint of it's use would never leave his soul.

End Game

In front of the throne, a ring of thirteen huge Balors stood facing outwards, and beyond them a circle of over one hundred of the Remoch, armed and ready, each with four curved swords. In the centre stood two figures. The first, dwarfed by his companion, was familiar to Surya, Xanavan of the Fae Mhor. He looked less than happy; it seemed that this was not the outcome he was hoping for. The second was obviously Azarrath.

In form, Graz'zat's lieutenant on Thanatos was not unlike the Balor he had once been, although his hide had darkened to a near black in colour, his curling horns were gone, a distancing from Orcus' trademark rams horns no doubt and he had no wings. His most significant feature was simply his size. He stood over fifty feet high, towering over everyone else present.

A fiendish grin spread across his face as he observed Surya, and then he laughed, audible even over the din of the Well of Souls. "Within my grasp, Surya the Black. Though he loses a city, loses a plane, tonight my Master will laud my name. For I shall have secured His disciple!"

Courteously, Surya greeted Azarrth. "Please, accept my apologies for this intrusion," he began ironically, "but you do appear to have lost the city, do you wish to discuss terms?"

The Giant laughed again. "A city. My Master would rate it naught next to the real prize, you yourself. And I have you now!'"

Surya greeted Xanavan, but not so courteously and enquired of his wounds, asking if he would like to switch sides, again. "I'm sure Orcus could find a use for a low-life, back-stabbing turncoat such as yourself," he taunted. For a split instant, an expression of pure terror and longing sleeted across Xanavan's face. It was difficult to read his expression accurately, but Surya thought Xanavan might well be regretting his change of sides and wishing he could reverse that and be terrified of the consequences. Then Xanavan sneered, and turned his gaze away.

Surya did not address the Dark Elf again as he continued to parley with Azarrth, though he did keep a watchful eye on his every move. But Xanavan stood like a frozen statue, his eyes burning as they followed the interchange between the demon and the mortal.

Surya asked of Azarrth why his master would be so pleased to lose a city and plane and gain a mere mortal as a prisoner. "I'm surprised that you yourself have even heard of me, let alone your great master."

Azarrth replied "You jest. Such a hero, wyrmslayer, necromancer, he who bought Bel to his call and banished him again, the man who has upset the politics of half the Abyss by freeing Orcus, blesséd of Kord and ruler of a third of Alair, with the rest within his grasp. Your renown echoes down the halls of Eternity and your service would be a valuable asset to anyone capable of commanding it!"

Surya answered, "Yes, I would be a useful tool in your master's box, but my allegiances are given, not taken. The reason for my usefulness to Orcus, Kord and Alair is that I choose to serve them freely. If I were forced to serve, many of my most useful attributes would be lost along with my freewill. There is no point in taking me, I will not serve your master against my will."

The demon spoke again, "You would never serve against your will, this I see to be true. But your decision can always be ...influenced."

There was an electric pause and then Surya asked the demon lord, again, if he would yield the city and leave.

He replied "I will leave... once all here are slain save you and the Dark Angel. She I will offer safe conduct too, traitress though she be, for the debt I owe - "Seraphiel nodded fractionally, "And… you... you are mine."

Surya looked around at the opposing forces, he was outnumbered almost six to one, and probably out of his depth. His thoughts turned to his options, could he use his new mount, would he have to turn to the power of the Well of Souls, or even the Legion? He wondered if Seraphiel's body guard were with her, eight more demon allies would have been useful. The demons themselves were not visible, but Seraphiel's huge shield was on her arm and Surya was well aware of the connection.

Standing beside him Seraphiel unhurriedly unsheathed her sword, and addressed Azarrth. "Will you fight me, then, my apprentice?" The massive demon raised his burning sword to his brow in a salute. "You know I will not, sensei. If all others are gone I will withdraw rather than break our bond. Look to your new pupil rather, for I will deprive you of him if I can."

With that the Balors following Surya loped across the dais and piled into the Remoch in an attempt to get to the enemy Balors, who were standing their ground behind the ranks of Remoch. As Surya's forces plunged into combat with the Remoch, he discovered why his fiendish troops had such trouble with them. They were very skilled combatants with four arms, each wielding blades. The Balors and mercenaries were kept very busy just staying alive to begin with.

Surya now joined the combat. With his great bow in hand he let fly four arrows at Xanavan. The arrows were all dead on target and Xanavan's face paled as they flashed home, but they glanced off an invisible shield in a shower of sparks. Xanavan suffered no physical damage from the arrows, but due to his rather modest physique, the sheer impact of four arrows driven by Surya's strength knocked him off his feet, and he went over backwards. Both Azarrth and Seraphiel laughed at him as he sprawled.

Xanavan would have to wait. Surya turned his thoughts to the battle in front of him. Seeing that his forces were not progressing as well as he had expected, he cast one of his newer spells. A wave of despair washed over the Remoch, and around three-quarters of them suddenly looked very tired. The Balors, and Surya, who had now joined the fray, now took them out very easily.

Xanavan now regained his feet and cast a Dispel Magic of awesome power, this, then, was why the earlier magical artillery had failed, and why he was in charge. But Surya's magic had already done its work, and there was nothing more to dispel.

With the Remoch cleared, there were only fourteen of Surya's Balors left. Seraphiel obviously felt this was insufficient, because she herself came forward and started cutting their demon foes down. Surya had never seen the Dark Angel fight before, and he was impressed, with sweeping, formalized movements she stepped through the melee, and no demon could stand before her for so much as a moment.

This gave Surya a clear run at the Dark Elf, which he took with relish. As the warrior king reached him, Xanavan drew his sword, but his previous encounter with this human had clearly made him nervous, and he did not look confident.

Surya brought his twin blades to bear, and wounds began to appear almost as if by magic across the mage's body. It was immediately apparent that Xanavan was totally outclassed. The elf produced the Darkness inherent in all Fae Mhor, which he'd expected to confound the human. But Surya's Robe of Eyes, combined with other factors, simply disregarded it and the human's blades bit deeper into his body. As Surya moved in for the kill, the Dark Elf prepared to cast the spell Teleport in order to escape, but not in time. Surya raised his blades for the final time and split his foe's skull almost in two. This time, Xanavan would not escape.

The Fae Mhor dropped to the floor and a pale pink sheen became visible around his body. As he died, it faded. When Surya looked up from Xanavan's body only he, Azarrth, and Seraphiel remained.

Azarrth's Doom

Up to this point, Azarrth had not struck a blow; he had not so much as drawn his sword. But now he did, and seldom had Surya seen a more corrupt looking object. The metal was a dark, swirling green, and seemed almost to crawl. It was enormous, at least thirty feet long.

Gripping it in both hands, the demon whirled it up to the garde, and stood ready, raising his dark eyebrows in a mocking gesture of invitation.

Surya stepped up to meet the giant demon, showing no whit of his doubts. His initial attacks struck home, the cursed and the damned blades cutting and stabbing. The Demon's black blood flowed, but not enough - the strikes were being negated by something. Only some of the damage he had expected had been visibly sustained.

Now the fifty-foot Balor unleashed his dreadful weapon. The vast sword hurtled down through the air with an audible tearing sound, striking home four times. Unlike Surya's strikes on Azarrth, these slashed deep into the warrior's head and chest, and the wounds dripped with a green ichor. To compound matters further, flames then washed over the mortal, almost blinding him.

The claws of terror pulled at Surya's mind as he tried to regain his balance. The fear he was experiencing was an outside influence, however, not a reaction of his own, and the indomitable core of his stroppy Tellaran soul remained untouched. Shaking off the effects, Surya moved to attack again. This time his strikes cut deeper into the demon's flesh and Azarrth reeled a step backwards from the heavy impacts, though he did not fall. His black blood scattered across the floor, sizzling as it ate into the stone slabs.

The Demon attacked again, this time dealing Surya a second and almost fatal wound to his head.

Had Surya finally met his match?

The sheer force of this blow forced the mortal back, paradoxically giving Surya the chance to use the healing magic stored in the ioun stone spinning around his head. Revitalized by the magic from the stone, Surya rejoined the battle and the two fought on for what seemed an age, dealing enormous damage to each other. Back and forth they strove, until finally the demon's blade lashed out again, dealing one last painful wound to Surya's chest, but leaving himself open to the cunning placement of the human's final strike which ripped through the demons torso and exploded his heart.

Azarrth crashed to the floor, stone dead……..

Gratitude of Demons

The endless susurration of the tortured souls of the Well paused for a single instant, and the silence was ringing. It was broken by Seraphiel clapping an armoured hand onto Surya's shoulder. "Well fought, young apprentice," she comments. "Now the city is truly won."

Once Surya had recovered from his fight he contacted Orcus and informed him his home had been secured. A few moments later, Orcus himself Teleported into the Well of Souls.

He was in his true form, a grossly fat demon some fifteen feet tall. His body covered with goatish hair, and his head was also goat-like, with ram-like horns sprouting from it. His legs were goatish, but his arms were human. Vast bat-like wings sprouted from his back, and his long snaky tail was tipped with a razor sharp tip. In his hand a huge black skull-tipped rod, the Wand of Orcus, reputed to be able to slay any living creature it touched.

It had been a while since Surya had been in his direct presence, and the awful majesty of the Prince of the Undead beat upon his face like a black sun. Surya's knees give way of their own accord; here, in his throne hall, everyone knelt to the Demon Prince Orcus. Behind him, Seraphiel also knelt, white and shaking.

Orcus stalked triumphantly down into the Well, and took his rightful place on his grisly throne. He lifted his hands in a gesture of power, and the wailing of the damned souls in the Well changed to a distorted harmony as their power was harnessed and channelled.

Every hair on the human king's body stood up on end as the energy flowed, and the part of Surya, buried deeper every day, that Kord saw and valued when he offered an afterlife in his Halls cried out at the violation of the natural order. Some towering expression of power had been wrought by this godlike being, and being who he was, it could only bode ill for somebody.

Across the entire infinite plane of Thanatos, every creature who had died in the fighting since Orcus re-invaded, every single creature, whichever side it fought for, heaved itself up from where it fell, groped for its' discarded weapons, and turned to the battle in the service of Orcus. The power of the Prince of the Undead, here in his own place, fed and channelled by his evil Throne and its' Well, was irresistible.

The effects only lasted for a couple of hours, but they were more than enough. Everywhere, startled armies of demons, mercenaries and misfits were suddenly surrounded by ten times their force and more. There was no mercy in the Blood War in any event, but this was not a battle, it was a massacre, on a scale unimaginable to any mortal mind.

Then it was done. Orcus, Dark Prince of the Undead, was master of his dank realm once more, not least by the aid of a mortal King; a man balanced precariously on the edge of eternal damnation.

From this day forward, the Undead would wax more powerful throughout the Planes, and particularly on the Material. Deep in the toils of his inexplicable prison, Cain the first Vampire twisted and writhed in ecstasy at the flow of power. Terrified knights of the Blades of Wisdom and Mercy fled from the necropolis of Arech as the surviving denizens rallied, their power doubled.

The Renders of the Dark, sensitive to the flows of such power, swore oaths in a cold sweat of fear, calling on their Gods and checking their weapons; the hunting would be more urgent from tonight.

And far, far away, in the hidden Fortress of Varelath, the Malthain, the council of the High Clans of the Sons of Cain, offered up their thanks to Orcus and planned their revenge.

Seeing that his work was complete, Surya spoke "Well, if his Lordship has no further use for my insignificant help, I would ask for his permission to leave and to return home."

Both Seraphiel and Orcus turned to the mortal king. "Leaving so soon?" Orcus boomed, "surely there is more you wish to learn from the delectable Seraphiel about the arts of war? If you would leave, I hope to see you again - sooner, or later." The dreadful implications underlining that later were not lost on Surya.

Surya replied, "The task you set me is done. You wished for me to win a battle, but I have won back your home." He added, "I hope you are pleased - and your city is not too damaged."

Orcus smiled "Material damage to the hovels of my slaves bothers me not at all. You have helped me regain my Well, and for that you have my thanks" He continued, "Still, your help has been invaluable, young human king. What reward would you ask of me this time? More power? An army? Riches?"

Carefully Surya answered "I have wealth and armies to suit my present needs, but more power is always welcome. What reward would you offer for my services here?"

Orcus settled on his throne "I will give your reward some thought, I have something in mind. Return home and I will send it to you."

Seraphiel also seemed disappointed at Surya's plan to leave. "Your help has been anything but insignificant," she added. "Surely you have not yet sated your yearning for slaughter? Or do you hanker for your milksop wife?"

Not rising to the Dark Angel's taunting, Surya answered levelly, "I am touched that you will miss me, but remember you have learned so much in just a short time. I must return to my home and, yes, my wife. If I stay away too long, she will start running my kingdom for me - " then turning to Orcus " - and we shouldn't leave the ladies in charge, who knows what will happen?"

Orcus laughed, and so did Seraphiel, although there was a glint in her glowing eyes that showed that this had already occurred to her and if the chance came...

Surya asked Orcus for permission to leave and strode from the throne room with Seraphiel. The two spoke for a while on the issue of the Nightmare, and whether it could serve Surya in Alair. Seraphiel was unconcerned as to Saethor's fate.

Surya bade the Dark Angel farewell and added, "I look forward to the day when we will work together again, there are few that could stand up to our combined might." Her predatory smile left him in no doubt that she also relished the idea of working with him once more.

Surya gathered up his belonging, plus a few extra items he had acquired, and left Naratyr, the cold city of the dead, for the warm normalcy of the Material Plane and his own land.

Shifting through the planes of existence, Surya soon found himself back in his workroom, in the tower of his castle, in the city of Reital, in New Tellare, on the world of Alair. Home.

Somehow, the mundanity of the "real" world weighed heavily upon Surya over the next few days. Nothing seemed to appeal to or interest him quite as much as it used to; everything seemed rather flat and grey. With a great effort, he concealed this from those around him.

This sensation eased after a around week, and life resumed its' normal pace. For the moment....