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

able to forgive myself. But an hour of nail-biting and foot-tapping later, I felt
a tap on my shoulder and glanced up at Annah. My wounds had mostly
healed over by then.
"Find anything interesting?"
"Monsters a-plenty," she replied, biting one lip, "Nasty collections o'
demons to tha north. Big flabby things a-quiverin' like jelly, an' a horde o'
creatures round as they're tall, wit flesh pebbled like stone. One o' the big
winged ones might've caught me scent, looked like an abishai's great-uncle
he did."
"Lemures and Nupperibos, chief. Foot soldiers of the baatezu."
"And a cornugon, if we extrapolate to guess what the winged creature might
be. Strange," Grace murmured, "That here we encounter the forces of law
and evil in such numbers. Particularly odd to see a cornugon so far from the
schemes of Baator. And Dona Quisho had summoned a glabrezu, a demon of
mindless chaos."
"What do you think it means, Grace?" I asked.
She shook her head, "The schemes of the baatezu require careful reading
and study of their strategies, something difficult given our lack of
information and time to pursue the matter. Needless to say, Curst hides
more in its heart than any would let on."
"Save perhaps the deva," Dak'kon intoned, "If it is his knowing that we must
seek for your sake, we may probe his knowing of this city as well."
"Sounds peachy."
"Aye, but there be some people down 'ere as well. One southwards, th'
other far west. I donnae know how they've avoided the nasties, or if they be
friend or foe."
"Hmm. What did they look like?"
"T'chah. One's a hermit. Th' other's... well, let's settle on the fact that he's
donated ta a greater cause, aye?"
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