(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

horde. Waves of amorphous flesh broke against the enemy as the ocean
eats away the shore. Nine out of ten in the baatezu army died, but the
ceaselessness of their attack won the battle. Afterwards, in a single day, the
sea of lemures regenerated and the army was reborn for the next wave."
Dak'kon nodded, derision sharp in his voice, "I have heard of such stories
among battle-brothers as well. These tactics underlie the savagery of the
Blood War... neither the lemure horde nor their tanar'ri foes know what
they do."
I shook my head, "We need to slide Curst back. Now."
"Speak fer yerself," Annah panted, "Some o' us need a breather between
shivvin' fiends left an' right."
"We can't rest, Annah," my voice was hard, and she flinched as if cut by the
edge in my tone, "Trias hasn't just condemned a city of traitors. He's
brought it directly into the Blood War. Curst has become the launching point
for a mass baatezu attack against the tanar'ri."
If Morte could've soiled himself, he would've right then. "Don't suppose
there's a chance we can run like hell?"
"Yeah. Right this way," I pointed my blood-soaked dagger to the sound of
battle, and took off.
"You know I hate it when you agree with me sometimes!" he called out,
floating as fast as he could.
~~~~~
We had to redouble our efforts in securing Curst, and by a stroke of luck
An'izius was dragged past me by two guards, the madness of desperation in
his eyes.
"Please, stranger! You must help me! Convince the judge that my alleged
crimes are no crimes at all!"
I ran up the stairs towards the makeshift gibbet, to the sour-faced little man
who raised an eyebrow at my approach. He spoke in the tone of an overfed,
arrogant nobleman. "Mind you, sirrah, that you're interrupting an official
1078