Knowledge shall lead the...

[Anastasia]

"She's as busy as you are with new things," Martinet agrees, as there's another shift. This time you ride amid a great, towering city. It is abandoned and yet beautiful - of gorgeous art and design, of glass, crystal and steel. Of great looming towers and vast halls, of open air auditoriums and lush green parks. Yet it is empty to the last, "Maladomini," Martinet comments, "I believe this is the the Forbidden City of Gardos." He looks up to the sickly green sky and adds, "The Lord of the Seventh banished every soul from it."

[Corwin]

"Cities are meant to be used, I think," Seira voices as she takes in that vast emptiness.

[Anastasia]

"I agree," Martinet concurs mildly, seemingly content not to argue it as it all becomes bleak glaciers and howling blizzards. "Caina." The Duke of Hell observes, "I'm sure your friend has wonderful memories of her youth here."

[Corwin]

"I'm afraid not," Seira says sadly. "While I've come across many of your residents that took pride in their status and achievements, I've never heard anyone speak of enjoying the stage of their lives where everyone stronger abused them. Though perhaps it was different for Asmodeus's own children as they were growing up?"

[Anastasia]

There's no time for a reply - a shimmer and all is dark. Dark, broken ground as the stagecoach door opens. "Ah, we're here," Martinet announces, "You should have your escort just ahead."

[Corwin]

"Thank you," Seira tells him as she disembarks. Time to join that special club of visitors to Nessus! Ones that can actually leave, anyway.

[Anastasia]

Thus you step out - and you stand at the X juncture between two impossibly vast chasms, at the bottom where no light dares reach. Canyons longer than you can see, vast chasms that stretch out like a titanic hand carved out hunks of Nessus. Before you is a citadel of stone that fills all ahead and more - for it stretches farther than it should, to the limits of even your divine vision and far beyond.

Before you stands Malsheem, home of the Lord of the Ninth. It is a fortress of red stone and black metal. Gates tall enough for a mountain to pass loom over you, the depth and size unthinkable. The fortress is even taller than that, surely tall enough for hundreds of stories. The walls rise high, decorated with windows and the occasional carving of a devil.

"...Seira Aryn..."

"Seira Aryn!"

"Seira Aryn!"

A voice on the wind whispers your name. Then another and another and another and another. Eyes. Always at the absolute edge of your vision, but countless glowing eyes nestled in the darkness peer out at you, whispering your name.

"Seira." This voice is besides you in a moment. A pit fiend, a Nessian from the size alone, and yet more. He carries a red scale dragon's shield and ax. He is big, even for a Nessian, and his forehead blazes with the unholy symbol of Asmodeus. "Follow." He says but a word and marches forward, as those tremendous, terrible gates make the ground shake as they begin to open.

[Corwin]

"Lead on," Seira tells the flunky, heading towards the gates.

[Anastasia]

The pit fiend leads you deeper in. The gates open wide, vast, a hall so big as to envelope all of Balmuria a hundred times and yet have space to spare. And yet - not a devil is here. Only emptiness as you stride forward, not a face save for your guide.

You walk.

You walk.

You walk.

Down the vast hall, down and down. Down to a hall a little smaller, and smaller yet. Up a flight of stairs, decorated with gold and rubies on the banisters. To a walkway, far above another hall. As you see it, "ATTENTION!" A voice booms from below, and a tremendous wave of sound washes over you as you step ahead. Below in this hall are devils. Thousands of thousands, millions if not more. Each stands at military attention and in formations, all spread out. So many that not even your divine sight can take them all in.

"HAIL AESMADEVA, THE GRIM FIEND!" they thunder, the sound closer to a living thing than mere noise, so loud and animated. "HAIL THE SERVANT OF THE KING OF HELL!" From lowest spinagon to highest pit fiend they all thunder together, "HAIL ASMODEUS, KING OF HELL!"

Yet on your guide walks, not even a reaction at this all.

[Corwin]

Posturing! She understands the importance of it well enough, and the best move is to ignore it, same as her guide.

[Anastasia]

The voices of millions continue to shout the entire walk. There is no respite, only praise to Asmodeus.

When you reach the end of the walkway, you come to stairs going down. Story after story you go down, stairs of gilded gold and red ruby. On you walk. On and on and on you walk. Ninety nine flights of stairs you believe, when you at last come to a door. A door sealed with the image of a serpent baring its fangs, from which sizzling green venom drips. Yet the pentagram on Aesmadeva's head alights with flame and the doors open.

Here is a hall, all above - !!!! Gold. Gems. Treasure. Another walkway, vast below as the last. It is filled to the brim with treasures, gold, gems, art, wealth, magic. So high you would only have to hop down a little bit to stand amid incalculable wealth. Amid it all robed and masked devils move, not a single feature they have visible. They count and calculate, forever moving and at work.

Here Aesmadeva lingers for one moment, gaze ahead, as if to give you a moment to stare, before he continues on. "Part of the Treasury of Nessus," The Grim Fiend announces.

[Corwin]

"Very impressive," Seira says honestly. "Is it built on conquest, or does Asmodeus will it into existence?"

That's what Zaphkiel does, aided by the prayers of the faithful, although perhaps this setup is different.

[Anastasia]

"Conquest," Is the answer, "Homage, tribute. All of them are the bounty of the Lord of Nessus."

[Corwin]

Seira nods her understanding. If they genuinely think to move her with treasure, they've gravely misunderstood her. She's here only to have a little chat with Asmodeus as invited, nothing more.

[Anastasia]

More stairs. Ninety nine more flights, the trip long indeed. Not another devil crosses your path, none dare perhaps. At the bottom of these stairs is a black chasm, pitch dark. On the walls images of serpents are seen, each one with ruby eyes that glitter faintly. "Follow," Aesmadeva commands and hops down, falling.