None of them had been badly hurt, except for Tibulus, who had been
rather grievously wounded.  Even though he called upon his limited
druidical tutoring to staunch the flow of blood from his wounds, it could
be seen that the bard was severely hurt.  Since Gael admitted that the
powers of Poseidon which had been channeled through her this day had nearly
exhausted her, Dwarkin used his own greater druidical powers to heal some
of the bard's wounds.
     This done, they started to move through the door to face whatever lay
beyond, but its was quickly noticed that Dwarkin and Graynyr were frozen in
place, not moving in the least.  Gael called up more light to illuminate
the next room, her vision fading momentarily and her head growing light as
the rush of divine power passed through her being before the energies
coalesced into brilliant light.
     But at this point small spheres of fire shot from the room beyond,
striking Evrin and Tibulus in rapid succession.  However, the elf was able
to ward the spheres off with his shield, for the most part, while Tibulus
seemed little affected as the flaming spheres burned through this outer
clothing to reveal his enchanted, elf-crafted chainmail armor.
     As the group charged into the next room to face the renegade mage,
Tibulus was suddenly lifted from his feet and hurled backwards and out of
sight towards the pit room.  The remaining members of the group confronted
Vastor in a large chamber.  A number of tables were set at odd locations
around the chamber, their surfaces buried beneath layers of alchemical
apparatus and sculpting utensils.  There were several incomplete bodies of
molded clay positioned here or there, but fortunately there were no more
complete creatures remaining.
     When Evrin and Arahna reached Vastor, he raised his hands and flames
shot forth, enveloping Evrin and Arahna.  The elf crumpled to the floor,
while Arahna was able to twist away from the flames, although badly burned
with her clothes smoldering.
     Gael moved to defend her fallen comrade with her blessed trident,
while Torina cast some sorcerous bolts at Vastor, who reeled only slightly
from the impact.  Kasendra aimed a magic wand at Vastor.  A thin ray of
light shot at the renegade mage, who just barely twisted out of the way,
inspiring a number of colorful comments from the halfling.  She knew that
the magic in her wand of paralyzation was limited, and hated to waste any
of it.
     Vastor produced something from under his tunic which might have been
an amulet, but it was difficult to tell, for he immediately hurled it into
a large vat of moist clay along one wall.  The clay immediately began to
bubble and froth, throwing off large clumps of clay which splattered
against everyone and every surface in the room.  Under the cover of this
mess, Vastor retreated across the chamber into one of the corners not
illuminated by the light of Gael's spell.
     Arahna started to follow the retreating renegade, but the clay in the
vat suddenly rose up in a wave, forming a vaguely humanoid shape even
larger than an ogre.  This thing stepped from the vat and into the path of
the red-clad martial-artist, forcing Arahna to back-peddle to keep from
running into it.
     Together, the women set about attacking this new creation.  Torina
thrust her sword into the leg of the clay thing, but a third arm emerged
from its abdomen and pounded her in the side of the head, sending her
reeling across the room.  The wound from her sword disappeared almost
instantly.
     Kasendra hurled a brace of daggers, but when they struck the thing in
the chest, they were absorbed into its amorphous form, soon appearing in
one hand.  It hurled both daggers simultaneously at the startled halfling,
who was too slow in ducking and was spearing in the arm by one of her own
daggers.
     Gael thrust her blessed trident into the creature's leg, causing the
damp clay of its body to steam and sizzle.  The creature roared and swung
at arm at the priestess, but she was able to evade the assault, if only
barely.
     Arahna launched into the demonic thing with her falchion, dealing a
furious series of blows which succeeded in hacking off one leg.  The leg
dropped to the floor, but before the rest of the body could follow, a new
leg grew from the stump to keep the creature from toppling.  However, with
the loss of its leg, the creature diminished in size, if not ferocity, due
to the mass required to replace the lost appendage.
     About this time, Tibulus staggered into the room in a rather dazed
fashion because of his impact with a wall in the previous chamber.  Seeing
this new foe, the started to charge, thought better of it, and advanced on
the thing, hewing a great furrow down the front of its body.  Torina also
limped back into the fray, giving the creature a couple of good whacks
before being knocked aside again.
     Gael speared the demonic creature again, arousing another roar of
rage.  Taking advantage of the demon-thing's distraction, Arahna hewed off
its leg again, causing it to topple before it could recover.  Tibulus
stumbled forward, ignoring the throbbing knot on the back of his head and
trying to keep his eyes focused.  Swinging his enchanted sword, he hackeg out with no effort, there was something preventing her
from withdrawing her tri-pronged spear.  All the while, the demonic thing
was wailing in great anguish.
     Pulling with all of her strength, the priestess succeeded in freeing
her trident, only to find the chain of some sort of amulet entwined around
the prongs of her trident.  The amulet was sizzling and steam rose from the
bits of damp clay stuck to it.  In moments, the amulet was glowing red hot
and she felt the presence of Poseidon coursig out with no effort, there was something preventing her
from withdrawing her tri-pronged spear.  All the while, the demonic thing
was wailing in great anguish.
     Pulling with all of her strength, the priestess succeeded in freeing
her trident, only to find the chain of some sort of amulet entwined around
the prongs of her trident.  The amulet was sizzling and steam rose from the
bits of damp clay stuck to it.  In moments, the amulet was glowing red hot
and she felt the presence of Poseidon coursing fiercely through her blessed
weapon, until the amulet exploded, raining shattered links of chain across
the room, one of them burning the back of her hand.  But when she looked at
the wound, there was no trace of any burn-mark on her from the remains of
the amulet.  She uttered a brief but heart-felt prayer to her deity.
     With the amulet pulled from its body and destroyed, the clay
monstrosity lost the last of its cohesion, flowing downwards into a soft
mound of clay.
     The warriors quickly checked their fallen comrades, who were luckily
all still alive, if in bad shape.  They quickly bound their wounds before
moving off in pursuit of Vastor Naasht, finding a door in the dark corner
into which he had disappeared.
     This led them into well-stocked storage chamber.  There was no sign of
the renegade, although in one side of the room there was a stairway leading
upwards.  As they moved to investigate the stairs, a large barrel came
bouncing down towards them.  The barrel missed everyone, although it did
brush Gael's arm before shattering on the floor and spilling salted meat
all over the place.  Trying to get out of the way, Kasendra slipped on one
large piece of meat, falling on her backside.  A second barrel came
bouncing down the stairs and landed on the startled halfling.
     Tibulus charged up the stairs, managing to successfully avoid a couple
more rolling barrels before reaching the top, finding himself in a smaller
storage room, with a door set in one wall, and what looked to be a winch
mechanism next to the door.  This was obviously a back entrance to this
ruined keep, an entrance which Vastor appeared to use for restocking his
larder.  And since there was a door here, it meant that the renegade could
escape if he so wish.  The bard was no about to let that occur.
     Seeing the resolve in the eyes of his opponent, Vastor smiled and
tumbled forwards to meet the bard's assault.  A brief flurry of blows
followed, and Tibulus crashed to the floor, unconscious, while Vastor
ignored the spreading blood stain on his side from the slash of Tibulus's
weapon.
     But in the short time Vastor had spent in fighting Tibulus, the others
had also reached this small room.  Arahna leapt forward, swinging her
falchion.  It bit deep, drawing more blood from the renegade she had sworn
to capture or kill.  Gael and Kasendra also closed in with their weapons at
the ready.
     While Vastor defended himself against these three, Torina circled
around behind and lunged, her sword biting deep into his leg.  Enraged, he
leapt into the air and kicked with his good leg, sending the wood elf
crashing to the floor, knocked unconscious as well.  Vastor then focused
fully on his defending himself against the three remaining females.
     Vastor's superior skill made itself known as the remaining members of
the group became more battered, and Kasendra fell after taking a blow to
the head.  Herself now quite enraged, Gael lunged, ramming her trident
through Vastor's wounded leg.  He fell, but in so doing slammed his other
foot into Gael, sending her stunned and descending into unconsciousness.
As he pulled the trident from his leg, a foot struck him in the back of the
head.  However, Vastor was still able to -- if only barely -- roll back to
his feet, supporting his weight on his good leg and the bloodied trident.
Before him, Arahna stood with her sword in hand, her eyes clear and
distant, unemotional.
     "Are you so uncertain of your skills that you must face me with a
weapon rather than your bare hands?" taunted Vastor, knowing full well that
even as hurt as he was, he could still slay her with a single blow, no
matter how good she might be.
     Rage flared in Arahna's eyes for the briefest second before they
became blank once more.  "You deserve only a dishonorable death."  A pause,
then, "Yet still would I face you in honorable combat, but not when you
yourself hold a weapon."  She motioned to Gael's trident.  "You are not to
be trusted."
     Vastor released the trident, planning to strike Arahna down the
instant she too released her weapon.  But instead, his head snapped back as
her left fist struck like a cobra, pistoning into his chin.  Vastor folded
onto the floor like broken doll.
     Arahna looked at her sword a moment before sheathing it.  After all,
their honorable combat required only that the opponents not use weapons.
It said nothing about being unarmed.
     She had learned a few things from her companions in the time she has
spent with them.

     "So what do we do with him now?" Evrin inquired the others about
Vastor, who lay bound and unconscious.
     After defeating Vastor, Arahna had bound the wounds of her friends,
some of whom soon recovered from the stunning blows dealt them by Vastor's
martial arts skills.  Also, the spell of induced paralysis wore off of
Graynyr and Dwarkin, and the druid lent his own limited powers of healing
to the worst of his companions.
     A detailed search of Vastor's abode turned up the tome the companions
had been sent to recover, plus an extensive library of magics Torina would
have loved to take with her, but had to settle on one of the smaller spell
books, for she and her companions were travelling light.  They even
discovered a number of lesser enchanted items, which they also claimed by
right of conquest in the hopes that these might somehow serve them in the
course of their quest against the daemonic invasion.
     With this completed, their comments turned to the topic of questioning
Vastor on all that he knew about the powers of the underworld before the
renegade was turned over to Tuvron Hy'z.  However, Dwarkin pointed out that
they would have to be wary of the magical powers of the mage, since they
had more than enough first-hand evidence of precisely how good Vastor was
at controlling the forces of magic.
     "I have an idea as to how to prevent him from calling upon any of his
magics," commented Torina.  She walked over to the inert renegade,
withdrawing the cursed hat from her belt.  Placing it firmly on Vastor's
head, she opined, "That should addle his brains more than enough to prevent
him from casting any spells," while giving a smile for the justice of it.
A few of the others did so as well.
     "Then let us just hope he will still be coherent enough when we
question him," put in Tibulus.  "But might I suggest we let the questioning
wait until later and be away from this place ere the messenger from the
lower planes puts in its appearance."
     "But should we?" considered Graynyr.  "If this messenger does not find
the tome here, who is to say it will return to its own realm?  It might
remain in our world and wreak untold havoc, as its kind is said to do."
     Dwarkin recognized the wisdom in the half-elf's words.  "A good point,
for certain, but do we dare to stay here?  I think it best to get this tome
as far away from here as possible, and thus reduce the chance of the
messenger taking possession of it by force.  And what chances would we have
of destroying the spirit?"
     "Why destroy it?" Torina contemplated aloud.  "What if we could
capture this messenger?  Might we not be able to question it and learn
about the plans of the minions of darkness from it?"
     Tibulus shook his head.  "I think not.  Capturing a demon is even more
difficult than slaying one.  And even if we did question it, I doubt we
should be so foolish as to believe anything told to us by a demon."
     "But surely with so many of us versed in spell casting or channeling,
one of us could find a way of divining truth from untruth," offered Torina.
     "No," returned the bard, "demons are notoriously resistant to magic,
and they are also masters of deception.  We would have little chance of
learning anything from it.  And we would only be further endangering
ourselves in questioning a demon, if for no other reason than the fact that
demons are often able to summon their fellows.  Letting a demon loose in
the world for even a short amount of time would be too much of a danger."
Tibulus had his own first-hand experience at the duplicity of demonkind.
Though limited, he knew better than to take any chance of learning anything
more the hard way.
     "Then there is no recourse but to destroy this emissary of the
underworld," muttered Evrin darkly.  He held no reserve in destroying a
demon.  It was the work of demons which had resulted in the drow becoming
what they were, and he was not about to let a demon loose in the world to
work more evil upon mortals, deserving or not.
     Dwarkin frowned thoughtfully, offering, "Indeed, but not all of us
need to stay here.  Some of us should take Vastor and the tome away from
here."
     "A wise idea," agreed Tibulus.  "I doubt if any of us are powerful
enough at spell-casting to affect a demon, and rare is the demon who can be
harmed by a sword which is not enchanted.  As such, Graynyr and I should
stay, for our blades bear powerful enchantments.  Gael's trident will no
doubt harm the thing, since she is a priestess and her trident blessed.  I
know not if Arahna's falchion bares powerful enough enchantments, but the
risk is her's to take.  The rest of you have no weapons which would do much
to harm a demon."
     "My dagger is enchanted," objected Evrin.  He had wanted to have a try
at a demon as a token of vengeance against what they had done to elvenkind.
     Tibulus tried not the laugh.  Now was not the time for humor.  "Would
you truthfully wish to fight a demon with naught more than a dagger?"
     Evrin realized how ridiculous that sounded, and agreed to go with the
others who were to leave.  They bundled up Vastor and his tome and set off
out of the ruined keep, that they might be away from here before the
messenger from the lower planes appeared.
     Those who were to await the messenger of the underworld found places
in Vastor's work room where they might rest, although none of them could
relax, knowing that at any moment some manner of demon would put in an
appearance.
     After some time, Gael looked up at nothing specific, sensing some
growing presence of evil.  "Something is about to happen."
     The others became even more wary, looking around for any trace of the
expected demon.  Soon, they could detect the faint scent of brimstone in
the air, and a dark, swirling miasma was appearing in one corner.  In
moments, a ruddy red glow appeared in the heart of the swirling mists, and
distant cries of anguish filled the air.  Then the glow and the screams
were gone.
     From the cloud stepped the form of a strikingly beautiful woman.  She
looked around at the surprised adventurers facing her -- they had been
expecting something rather more demonic -- with her only visible reaction
being a raised eyebrow.
     "Where is Vastor Naasht?" inquired the woman, her voice soft and
melodic.
     "He has been taken away from here," Tibulus informed her.  "Vastor and
the tome are well beyond your reach."
     "Nothing is beyond my reach," commented the strange women, turning a
winning smile on the bard.  "Not if I truly desire it."
     Tibulus started to smile back, but instead shook his head.  Barely
controlled anger was evident in his voice as he said, "Save your charms and
enchantments, demoness.  I will not succumb so easily to your blighted
magics."
     Facing the other three in turn, she demanded, "Where is the tome
promised me?"
     Gael held her trident with solid faith in her deity, noting with
satisfaction that the demoness flinched slightly away from the blessed
weapon.  Gael did not know what promises had been made to Vastor in return
for this arcane tome, but she had seen first hand the power and the evil of
the things it could create.  She was not about to see so powerful a book
fall into the hands of a demoness.  With great conviction, she stated, "You
will not have it."
     The demoness smiled again.  "Oh, but I will.  Nothing will prevent me
from retrieving my prize.  To me it was promised, and so I shall have it."
She laughed cruelly as the outline of her body blurred and became
indistinct.  "You cannot stop me."
     Her form blurred further before resolving itself into a new shape.
Although she still had the same beautiful face, she now had six arms and
from the waist down a powerful serpentine tail sprouted in place of legs.
In each hand she held some different type of sword or axe, swinging them in
practiced coordination in an amazing feat of dexterity.
     Arahna and Graynyr moved to opposite sides of the demoness, trying for
her relatively unprotected back and the long serpentine portion of her
body.  Graynyr slashed a long gash down the length of the tail, but a
simultaneous double-backhanded blow from two swords sent the half-elf
crashing into the wall.  Arahna busied herself with fending off another
wickedly curved sword, wondering how this demoness could coordinate the
movement of six different arms.
     Tibulus dove under the demon's guard, driving his sword into her side.
There was a blast of frigid air from his sword, a blade enchanted with the
powers of cold.  The demoness roared in pain, slashing at the bard with a
pair of arms.  A heavy axe bit a deep wound across his chest, easily
cutting throught the elven chainmail shit the bard wore, sending him
reeling backwards, trying to keep his feet.
     Arahna and Gael attacked the demoness simultaneously from opposite
sides, but neither were able to penetrate the multi-armed defenses of the
demoness.  Then Arahna was lifted into the air as if by some unseen hand,
her head striking the ceiling hard before the demoness released her magical
attack and Arahna dropped back to the floor.  Arahna's vision dimmed, and
forcing her to fight to remain conscious.
     Having recovered his own feet, Graynyr lurched in to attack from the
rear, thrusting his blade deep into the demon's back, feeling the
surprising grate of metal on bone.  He had not expected them to have an
internal structure similar to the more mundane races of the world.
     Tibulus also dove back into the fray, doing his best to ignore the
pain burning across his chest from the nasty wound the demoness had dealt
him.  The bard drove his sword deep into the demoness's side, twisting the
blade this way and that, hoping she had some internal organs which could be
ruptured by such treatment.  Frost formed upon the blade of his sword,
freezing the revolting ichor pouring from the wound.
     The demoness flopped loosely onto the floor, her limbs twitching
spasmodically.  For good measure, Gael thrust her blessed trident into the
demon's body, eliciting a wailing cry of anguish from the dying form.  The
others circled the demoness warily, lest she yet prove to be dangerous.
     The dimensional gateway, not yet having fully disappeared, started
pulsating in time to the spasms racking the dying demoness.  The
adventurers stepped away from the portal, cautious should another demon
step forth.  Instead, a tongue of lightning licked out and encompassed the
corpse of the demoness, pulling it back into the gateway, and presumably
back into the malignant realm from which it was spawned.