Three fiendish flying horrors set upon the band of adventurers. These are monstrous human heads with mutated, exaggerated ears turned into revolting flapping wings. The first one dives at Sartan, missing with its snapping jaws, and then flying out of range. It then swoops at Cycek, connecting with a vicious bite. The terrible teeth of the creature sink into the flesh of Cycek’s head. Blood runs down his face, but it is a minor wound. However, the bite also carries the venom of the abyss, and Cycek suffers the effects of a dreadful poison. The two other creatures join the fray, diving in to attack other members of the group. Stringbean wisely runs and crouches in the shadow of a large rock, hiding from the onslaught, and Sartan and Davros soon follow suit. The flying heads move fast and are elusive, but between arrow shot and sword stroke, one of the three is brought down. One of the remaining monsters assails the team with a blood-curdling shriek, inducing a paralyzing fear. Most of the party is unable to act as the airborne horrors wheel around for another attack. They are unable to connect, then, as if called back home, they fly back into the portal and disappear.
The heroes recover from their shock and fear and swiftly decide “Now is our chance!” They hold hands and dive into the portal before it had a chance to disappear.
For a few quiet seconds, they find themselves floating in an endless field of misty grey. There is no indication of up or down. There are pools and eddies of grey light and subtle shade, and also a palpable, amorphous region of writhing shadow. A black arm seems to reach out, but a mass of light interposes itself, spreading like a protective shield of wings. The voice of Adara speaks, “go now, and act swiftly, I may not be able to hold this creature for long, nor hold the portal in stasis.” Complete your task. Find the girl and do so quickly.
At that moment the mist turns to orange and they find themselves falling into a pit of angry light. They seem to move every more quickly and are shortly dumped unceremoniously in a heap onto a slab of stone.
They are disoriented, but a quick look reveals that they have come to rest upon a tiered, circular platform of stone, in the center of a jagged, irregular island of black rock. Around the island snake glowing channels of sluggishly flowing lava. The air smells of harsh smoke. It stings their eyes, and makes them want to cough. The red sky above them is criss-crossed with black wires. They barely have time to take in the view beyond their immediate proximity, because they are immediately set upon by a small crowd of demonic creatures. These are horrid little bloated, squat fiends with scabrous flesh, wretched faces, and clawed hands. At least eight of them converge on the newly-arrived group, while the bat-winged heads circle above. Stringbean is the last through the portal, yet the first to react. He springs to his feet, and lunges for the nearest foe, sinking his dagger into its rubbery flesh, but failing to kill the wretched beast. One of the flying heads then sets upon the hapless goblin and delivers a killing wound. He is knocked to the ground and the hideous flapping monstrosity follows him to the ground where it continues to savage him at will.
Demonsbane is fairly quivering with excitement, and the weapon gleefully expresses its desire to kill as many of these fiends as possible. Sartan is happy to oblige, and he swings the blade, cutting down a couple foes.
Cycek instructs Fuzzeedong to attack the Achilles tendon of the nearest demon, and he does so, effectively hobbling the creature, but by no means critically injuring it. He then tries to fling the weasel into the face of another, to no effect. At bat-winged head dives toward him and inflicts another nasty poisoned bite.
Mishok, seeing the dire situation Cycek is in, moves into position where he can channel the divine force of Divoc, and deliver healing to the stricken elf. In the process, a trio of shambling assailants surround him and rake him with their jagged claws. He speaks some words of prayer and conjures a spiritual pitchfork. The weapon emanates radiant light, and flies through the air with deadly accuracy. It spears the first enemy with such force that the foul body of creature is blown apart with a sickening splat. The weapon then drives its pulsating tines into the next foe, and brings this one to the ground in a pile of torn, semi-molten flesh.
Davros darts through the fray, unleashing devastating sneak attacks on any opponent he can. He moves toward Sartan who has found himself locked in combat with two larger creatures who have approached from a hooked spit of land at one end of the island. They have encountered these types of creatures before: once at Hack’s pit battle, and once in the fray that had cost Coriander her life. One of these disgusting fiends unleashes a stench that sickens Sartan, slowing his reflexes. Nevertheless, Sartan gets the upper hand on one of the creatures and shoves it over the edge and into the bubbling lava below. Davros takes advantage of this distraction and slays the other one.
Before long the ranks of enemies is thinned of all but the winged heads which continue to pose a threat. However, as the party begins to collect itself, a new combatant takes the field. Above their heads, the sky is criss-crossed with wires. Misshapen silhouettes dangle, moving to and fro as they swing hand-over-hand. One of these creatures has dropped with a plop into the midst of the fray. It opens up a gaping maw that nearly splits its body, and scuttles toward the party.