Gromphy took Esther down a winding staircase, through back halls, behind the kitchen, and down another flight of stairs before they found themselves within the subfloors. “You take me to such nice places,” Esther said, eyeing the cobwebs and dripping slime. She was tall enough that in a few places, she had to duck. Carrying the tiefling made it harder.
The goblin didn’t reply and continued through the catacombs until they reached the death shaman. Carakon had cleared away the two dozen healing potions Gromphy had paid him and had been hard at work with the remaining ingredients the crafter had left behind. Ominous symbols floated in the air around the four torches, and the brazier at the foot of the stone altar burned with demon fire. Esther began to have second thoughts about this. Still, she laid Stemenia on the altar and stepped back.
Carakon held up the dress and looked between it and the tiefling. “It would be easiest if she were wearing it.” Both males looked at Esther for assistance, and she took another step back, shaking her head. They shrugged and manipulated the Helpless mage until she wore the dress. It shrunk to fit her snuggly.
“She is only level eight,” Carakon observed as he tied her down with ropes. “I was hoping for someone more powerful.”
“She is demonic,” Gromphy added but understood that if they wanted maximum effectiveness, it would help if the tiefling were at full strength. He pulled a restoration potion and fed it to the unconscious woman. Soon Stemenia was at full health and level 16. “She will wake soon,” Gromphy warned, an avoidable result of his healing.
The shaman nodded and tied the bonds extra tight. He began chanting while Gromphy pulled out Esther’s diamond knife and cast enchantments on it. The demonic fire in the caldron rose higher as the elf’s voice dropped lower into a guttural language. Esther took another involuntary step back, just outside the torchlight, and hid in the shadows.
Gromphy finished his work with the dagger first and offered it to Esther but was surprised not to find her. She was the most qualified to use the weapon and could produce the most damage with it. He eventually found her in the shadows only because they were party members. He held up the knife, but she shook her head and took another step back.
Carakon’s voice rose to a crescendo, and a fiery spirit sprang from the brazier and splashed down on the tiefling, consuming the dress until it shone orange and red, flickering with immense fire potential.
“Now!” the shaman shouted. “Do it now!”
Gromphy added more than enough of his crafting power and once again held up the knife to Esther, urging her to approach. The woman shook her head and felt sick in her stomach. The goblin didn’t have any skill with the weapon, so he offered the dagger to Carakon. The shaman was too involved with his spell to notice. “It must happen now!” he cried again, his eyes burning with fire, preventing him from seeing anything else.
Stemenia woke up.
The mage was initially disoriented but had the presence of mind not to react hastily. She was Grappled against the stone table, but as long as she didn’t fight back, she could perform activities that took one action. She felt the stiff fibers of the ropes against her wrists and the fire flowing through the dress, and her best option was obvious. A burst spell released a fireball that exploded from the altar, burning through her bonds and tossing Gromphy and Carakon into the wall. The dagger fell from the goblin’s hand. Stemenia sat up and looked around.
Esther snapped out of her funk and leaped forward, attacking from the shadows. She scooped up the dagger, put a hand on Stemenia’s shoulder to Grapple her back to the altar, and stabbed into her chest. The dress had a deep V-neck, and the blade sunk into the exposed flesh. Gromphy had enchanted the dagger with True Strike, Heavy Weapon, and the Coup de Grace ability, forcing Stemenia to save against the damage or die. With Esther’s bonus for attacking from the shadows, she had enough criticals to escalate the damage far above what the tiefling could save.
The mage lay suddenly still, and Esther left the knife in as she stepped back to watch the final process of the spell. Fire from the dress swirled through the fabric, pausing at each of the rubies and impregnating them with fire, using the life of the tiefling to anchor the gems to the demonic plane. Stemenia’s essence burned away as each ruby absorbed the enchantment until she was a hollow husk of a body inside the dress.
Once finished, the spirit of fire extracted itself from the garment in a whirlwind and sucked back into the brazier. In an instant, all was quiet and still. The two males were still picking themselves up off the ground as Esther slowly approached the altar and looked down at the dress. It lay flat on the stone, the body that had been inside reduced to ash and spread through the room. A shudder went through the woman, and she felt the power emanating from the item. She wasn’t going to touch it.
Gromphy and Carakon made their way back to the stone slab. The crafter had the skill to examine the dress and nodded his head. “It appears to have worked.” He turned to the shaman. “Thy reputation pales next to thy skill. We are grateful.” He bowed slightly.
The elf was still rattled from the fireball, not used to having his sacrifices attack him. He nodded and looked between the two very different characters. “You should leave now. I assume you are here with an invitation from my master, but I doubt he knows you have extended it down here.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Gromphy collected the dress into his inventory and returned the knife to Esther. All the enchantments he had put in it were for one-time use, and she stored it away. The crafter hopped off the stool and nodded again to the shaman. “We shall be off.” Esther was still stunned and followed silently.
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Gromphy chose to take the wooden door at the top of the stairs. It was that or try to sneak through the banquet hall. Esther probably wouldn’t have raised the alarm, but she had blood on her dress. The goblin guessed that wouldn’t be an issue shortly, but the feeding frenzy hadn’t started yet.
Though barred from the outside, the door opened easily from within. Gromphy had no issue deciphering the magical lock, and soon the pair was outside. They ran back toward the entrance, hoping they wouldn’t be interrogated on the way out. Esther noticed that the gathering of people on the front porch was gone. She wondered why for a moment when screams filled the air. She stopped and turned to look at the estate.
The window she had broken was fixed, and she tried to look through the light panes of glass to see inside. The screams grew louder, and a large spray of blood splashed onto the window. Esther felt her hunger rise, but she fought against it. It was the same feeling she had gotten when standing before Imani, and the host had wanted her to feed on Thomas. It made sense that the shark druid would have a spell that inspired others to want to feed. She didn’t know what disgusted her more: that the party was designed around killing innocent people or that a part of her wished to participate.
“They're killing the humans,” she said.
“Of course they are,” Gromphy replied, not wanting to stop and talk about it. “What did thou think their purpose was?”
She ignored the question. “We must go back. We have to save them. Thomas’ sister is in there. I can’t let them kill her too.”
Gromphy sighed. “What can thou do? Against 50 of the realm's most powerful beings and a dozen gargoyles? Thou wilt be killed in moments and our mission a failure.”
Esther grew stern and glared down at the goblin. “Summon Adam, and we will lay waste to those monsters up there.”
Gromphy returned her cold stare. “And if it were vampires being killed. Wouldst thou be so eager? Wouldst Jace rush in to save fallen angels who wronged their gods? Or, perchance, they are goblins dressed up in ridiculous garments for their master’s revelry? ‘Feed them to the wolves,’ they wouldst cry. ‘Dangle them above yon fire.’ ‘Slay them for sport.’ ‘Nay, but this one hath a noble tongue. He knoweth his way about a forge and presenteth a dashing figure in a hat and suit. Spare him but to the seven hells with the rest.’ Wouldst thou risk thy life to save goblins in such a plight?”
Esther stood stunned, the horrific screams behind her demanding attention, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the traumatized goblin. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to enter the main hall with her. It would have brought back painful memories. “I had no idea,” she said softly. “There is no excuse for . . .” but canine howls drowned out the rest of her words.
“Bah, and now we’ve tarried such that the hounds art upon us. Run, lass!” Gromphy turned and fled toward the hedges.
Esther glanced back at the hellhounds, looked at the distance they needed to cover, and knew the Goblin would never make it. Even if she picked him up and Shadow Stepped to the carriage, maneuvering the horses would take too long, and the beasts would catch them. Resolutely, she turned toward the charging dogs and pulled Chill, her frost rapier. Her shield bracelet came to life on her right arm and extended into a medium-sized guard. She noticed for the first time since regaining her equipment that the bracelet the mages had given her to protect her from the hounds was missing.
The canines were moments from her, and she raised the shield. One kept coming while the other stopped to spew hellfire at her. The lead dog reached her first, and she dove out of the way at the last second, burying the rapier in the hound's side and leaving it there as it tumbled past. Its cry was muted as the cold weapon struck its heart, and it rolled on the ground in agony.
Esther’s Dodge had been good enough to only take half damage from the fire blast, and she sensed that her dragon shield wouldn’t give her any extra protection against demon fire. She considered dismissing it, but she only had one rapier left anyway. She reached across her hip and drew Char. The firebrand weapon wouldn’t do any extra damage against the hound, but the steel was still sharp. Esther tried to summon her armor, but it and her other clothes had been out of her possession for too long, and her Quick Change presets had been erased. She would have to go into her inventory to get it. She didn’t have the time.
The hound was on her in a flash, and while the shield didn’t protect her against demon fire, it did well against claws and teeth, and she could tumble out of the way, utilizing her latest feat to Dodge while holding a medium shield. The hound wasn’t so nimble and took repeated stabs from the blade before one of its attacks hit the woman.
Esther flew from the paw swipe, losing a third of her hit points in the attack. She augmented the roll, coming up thirty feet from the dog. She took a moment to see its partner still writhing on the ground with the frost blade stuck in its side. It wouldn’t be rejoining the fight any time soon, but the second hound wasn’t even to half health yet. As it reared its head back for another flame strike, Esther tugged on the brim of her hat and disappeared. Distraught, the dog drenched the area before him in fire, but the rogue had already Shadow Stepped to safety.
After the fire ended, the hound raised its nose to the air to find its prey, but sulfur in its nostrils put the elusive woman just out of reach. Snowy would have found Esther in a moment, but the hellhound struggled. As it stood flat-footed, sniffing the air, Esther struck from behind, executing a perfect Sneak Attack. The blade skewered the dog through the spine, and it reared up and pain. It still wasn’t enough to send the beast into a death spiral, and it had demonic bonuses to protect against that anyway, but it brought the hound dangerously low.
The two combatants resumed close combat, Esther taking one more blow but doing enough damage to drop the dog after three rounds. Much of the blood on her dress was hers now as she stalked toward the first hound roiling on the ground. She ended its struggle and pulled her weapons free. Gromphy had stopped running to watch. He had thrown one cold bomb on the dying hellhound and now produced a healing potion to toss to Esther. She caught the vial and drained it.
“A single hound nearly felled thee,” the goblin advised.
“Yeah, shut up,” she grumbled as her health filled. She tossed the empty vial aside. “We can go now.”
They walked unmolested to their carriage and rode back to town, the blood-curdling screams diminishing in the distance.