their temples destroyed. Your companions, the Zhentarim, establish a monopoly on commerce within the walls. Quite a lucrative bargain, if you ask me.'
'Such a Utopia is within our grasp without your aid, fiend,' another cleric said, his voice gruff.
'Why should we trust you?' Holt Burukhan asked. 'You and your brutish Scourged Legion have attacked our city repeatedly in the past. We know that the devilish horde you call an army sits now on the periphery, waiting for the right moment to strike. Will you bring them down upon us once more, after you hold the seat of power?'
They're demonic-not devilish, you simpleton, Vhok thought.
'If you had the means to drive out the Tyrrans and Helmites, you would have already done so,' the cambion answered. 'My Scourged Legion will be needed to tear down the walls of those temples and quell any rebellion within the ranks of the city's army and guardsmen. Once that is complete, I will send them to conquer more territory in my-in our-name, and they will do as I command. All I ask in return for this is that you let me unseat Helm Dwarf-friend before all the citizens of Sundabar, to humiliate him and drive him out of the city, branded a failure. I know you want to see the mercenary gone from Sundabar as badly as I do.' Well, not as badly, but maybe close, he silently added.
'And how will you ruin Helm Dwarf-friend?' Holt asked. 'What assurances can you give us that you will turn the populace against him?'
'A fine question,' Vhok replied. 'The answer to which I will keep to myself. But suffice to say I will have a means when the time comes. You risk nothing in accepting that answer, for I ask you to do nothing until I return. By that time, my preparations will be complete, and I will share my secret with you.'
And Helm Dwarf-friend, Vhok said to himself, I will witness your fall from grace. I will be the instrument of your utter and unending misery. Mark my words.
For a moment, the cambion reveled in the image of the human mercenary exposed as a fraud and a traitor to his own city. The half-fiend daydreamed the scene playing out, the folk of Sundabar gathered in the square, bearing witness to Dwarf-friend's downfall and Vhok's triumph.
A triumph that would not come to pass without the Banites' aid.
'Very well,' Holt said, just a hint uncertainly. 'We shall concede this secrecy to you for the moment. But we will not seal this alliance, at least not yet. Though you have made a compelling case showing the mutual benefit of our cooperation, you have not assuaged my concerns over the outcome should you-we-fail. If we cannot unseat Helm Dwarf-friend from the Master's Hall, you and your army simply return to your infernal pit beneath the ground, little the worse for wear. But we'-he gestured around the chamber-'we are drawn out, exposed, and our power crushed between the city and temples. That does not sit well with me. You must bring proof that you can lead the populace, control them. Only then will we lend you our aid.'
The chamber was quiet for some moments longer. Vhok again resisted the urge to grimace, though for a different reason. Dreadlord Holt Burukhan was a fanatic, but the half-fiend grudgingly acknowledged that he was not a complete fool. All the risk lay in the Banites' lap, and the priests knew it.
No matter, Vhok thought. Once I have the power of the Lifespring, convincing them of the plan's worth will be the simplest of things. They will feel foolish for ever doubting me. I will have this city. And Bane be damned.
The meeting was over. The gathered assemblage rose to their feet and began to slip out one by one, each by magical means of one sort or another. Vhok watched the priests as they vanished, leaving behind nothing more than a sparkle of magic or a zephyr of breeze to mark their passing. In moments, only he and Zasian remained behind.
'He is a fool,' Vhok said at last, sighing loudly. 'A fool's fool.'
The remark drew a raised eyebrow from Zasian. 'Perhaps, but such comments are dangerous. He or his spies might be listening to us at this very moment.'
'It's all right,' Vhok said. 'I warded the room before we began tonight.'
Zasian nodded. 'Wise,' he replied. 'As did I. Burukhan rarely gives proper consideration to such precautions, I fear.'
'Exactly,' the cambion said. 'A fool. And don't think I don't know you feel the same way about him, Zasian. I see the wisdom in your eyes-wisdom that flinches whenever that bag of winds speaks. For all his dedication and charisma, Dreadlord Holt Burukhan is not best suited to lead your church, Banite. You are far more able than he to command the hordes who worship your Black Hand.' Vhok knew he spoke that last bit with more sarcasm than was probably wise, but he couldn't refrain from letting his true feelings trickle out.
Zasian seemed to ignore the jibe. 'It is not so uncommon for a man to serve as the power behind a throne,' he said. 'Sometimes the masses need a face-a 'bag of winds' who can work them into a fervor on his behalf-more than they need a wizened contemplator. I accomplish far more behind the scenes, away from the scrutiny he receives. Burukhan can be the king. I prefer the role of kingmaker.'
Vhok smirked. 'If you say so. I could not be so content in such a role.' Then his eyes narrowed. 'When we have the city, is it your intention to continue to work behind the scenes?' he asked.
Zasian smiled, a charming grin that gave the ladies unsteady knees. 'Almost assuredly,' he purred. 'Though I'm sure that when Kaanyr Vhok sits in the Master's Hall of Sundabar, High Priest Zasian Menz of the Temple of Bane will be busy with his own pursuits. I'm sure we'll reach some sort of agreement of coexistence. You do not have any interest in spiritual matters, and I have little interest in the day-to-day affairs of secular rulership. What's good for you and your city will undoubtedly be good for me and my temple.'
'Indeed,' Vhok said. Silently, he added, Though I might prefer the incompetent blowhard at the head of the temple. Less dangerous most of the time.
The cambion dismissed future confrontations from his mind and changed the subject. 'Are you prepared to leave tonight?' he asked Menz, though he knew the answer already. Both had been planning their impending journey for a long time.
'Yes,' Zasian answered. 'And what of your preparations? Will we have access to the portal by this evening?'
'Yes,' Vhok replied. 'Lysalis and the others are working now. It shouldn't be much longer.'
Zasian nodded and said, 'I will meet you at the forges then, when it is time.'
'And our guide will be waiting on the other side?' Vhok asked.
'I have made the offerings and sent the messages. The price has been paid, and the guide should be waiting for us on the far side of the portal.'
'Then I will see you tonight,' Vhok said. He watched as Zasian nodded curtly once, summoned a magical doorway of reddish light, stepped through, and vanished.
CHAPTER TWO
The Everfire filled the massive chamber with an orange glow. The channel of simmering, molten rock illuminated every surface, its light even shining faintly upon the ceiling. From his vantage point high atop one of the great ruined Forge Towers, Vhok could survey the entirety of the massive room. He could feel waves of heat radiating upward, even several hundred feet away. The oppressive warmth did not bother the cambion, and the smell of scorched stone reminded him of familiar places in the Abyss.
The tower upon which the Sceptered One and his bevy of fey'ri sorcerers had gathered stood opposite its twin. The upper reaches of the counterpart had long ago shattered in some cataclysm, and the great stone bridge that once connected them simply hung in space, a jagged protrusion going nowhere. Together, the identical towers might have appeared as dual sentries, watching over the dwarves as they worked their forges in the sweltering heat.
Kaanyr Vhok had failed to conquer Sundabar because it was actually two cities, one on the surface and one below. The dwarves occupied the lower levels, far down in the depths. They had arrived many centuries before the humans and had learned to harness the potency of the Everfire for their forge work.
During the heyday of their activity, the dwarves had constructed side channels intersecting the natural lava course-great troughs that ran perpendicular to the large crevasse. At those smaller fiery canals, the dwarves performed most of their labors, heating and tempering the steel they forged into weapons and armor and the
