The Glass Prison

In the walled city of Tilverton, a less than reputable weaponsmith named Hirtho makes his living by selling low-cost, simple weapons to criminals and thugs. Hirtho once worked for a group in the city called the Fire Knives, an evil, roguish group that plagued the city. Eventually, the Fire Knives were completely driven out of the city, and Hirtho looked into a new line of work. His father had been a blacksmith, and Hirtho had learned a little of the trade when he was young. Possessed of none of his father's skill or artistry, he nevertheless discovered that the right clientele would be willing to buy his crude weapons for low prices. Because of his co

Hirtho thus led a simple but comfortable life off his ill-gotten gains. One of his many sales went to a young man named Wenmer who was hired as an enforcer for a local criminal and-according to some-priest of some mysterious evil god. Little did Hirtho know, the young enforcer would be killed before he ever drew the blade-by his own criminal boss as a blood sacrifice no less. Hirtho would never have believed that a cambion from the Abyss would then take the sword and use it against that same criminal. The idea that one of Hirtho's crude creations would have been used in an attack against a balor-perhaps the most powerful of fiends in all the Lower Planes-would have been inconceivable to the shady smith.

Vheod shouldn't have needed to know the blade's short and lackluster history to realize that his actions were foolhardy. He shouldn't have been surprised when, on coming into contact with the flesh of dread Chare'en, the ungainly sword shattered into thousands of metal shards. The force of the blow and its results sent Vheod sprawling backward through the air, where he struck the stone floor with great force.

Chare'en appeared more stu

Vheod's vision swirled around him. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping to steady his vision. When he opened them again, Mela

"Vheod, get up," she begged, her voice thin and panicked. "He'll kill us all!"

She was attempting to lift him from the ground by his shoulders, and he allowed her to help him stumble to his feet. The demon's black gaze fell on them both.

"Now, young mortalheart, I swear by the Abyss that gave birth to us both," Chare'en said in a voice like polished obsidian, "you will die!"

Vheod and Mela

Chare'en bellowed in rage, shaking both of them, body and soul. They reached the doorway and passed through the open bronze portals. Vheod looked around, blankly surveyed the bodies of the fallen thugs, Orrag, and Whitlock. He ran to where Whitlock lay.

"Is he… does he live?" Vheod asked, not looking back at Mela

"Yes," she replied, "but he shouldn't be moved." "There's nowhere to move him to anyway, I'm afraid." Vheod took Whitlock's sword and turned back to Mela

Next to her, Vheod saw Orrags fallen body by the doors. The floor shook as Chare'en followed them, loping slowly with legs cramped from centuries of captivity. With each step, the balor grew stronger. Vheod stepped up to the doorway but still looked down at Orrag. Surely the half-orc would have brought something of power with him here to this place. He seemed like a crafty pla

Vheod reached down and picked up the falchion the half-orc still clutched in his quickly stiffening fingers. Orrag, obviously not wanting to inflict serious injury on Vheod, hadn't really attacked him with the weapon. Perhaps it was a magical blade-Orrag's backup?

Chare'en reached the doorway as Mela

To Vheod's surprise, Chare'en stopped. He studied the line of power and seemed to consider it, as if evaluating its power and limitations. Or perhaps he considered his own. Vheod couldn't be sure. Nevertheless, anything that stopped the balor's advance was mighty indeed and was an advantage that shouldn't be wasted.

Unfortunately, even as thoughts of escape began to form in Vheod's mind, he saw a glint of metal behind the balor. On the floor, near the middle of the chamber, lay the silver-runed staff. In her haste to help him, Mela

Besides, lie thought, the intention behind his actions had been to slay Chare'en. He had to attempt to do so, or die trying. As he watched, Chare'en's flat black eyes rolled slightly. Vheod knew the balor was calling on his own i

Mela

At almost the same time, a shining blue warhammer of heavenly might appeared in Mela

"By all the Gods of Faerun, Vheod!” she shrieked, "are you mad?"

Vheod realized that the barrier obviously was meant to keep Abyssal creatures at bay. He was able to cross it one way, but due to his nature, would it repel him as well? He would never get the chance to discover the answer, for as all this occurred, Chare'en summoned forth the power within him and with a wave of his clawed hand dispelled the blue fire barrier with a snap of coarse, black lightning.

"I shall be denied nothing, regardless of which of your weak goddesses you call on!" His words curdled the air with his anger and hate.

The hammer Mela

"Mela

Black blood raged to Vheod's head, and as he'd done before, he lost himself to the hatred and darkness of the tanar'ri portion of his soul. He struck blow after blow with his blades, hammering Chare'en with fury and might. The ferocity forced the balor back a few lumbering steps. He unfurled his wrings in anger, but as he did a spi