My time in hell was not a result of my misdeeds on earth. I am here on a mission. One for which I would not have volunteered. Though I wonder at the meaning behind it, I do not subscribe to the debate between heaven and hell. It seems serendipitously that I have a role to play in the resolution of that conflict. I am not one to shrink from conflict, even a conflict without direct bearing on me. Here, however, the price of indifference would be exacted acutely. The suffering of the damned is testimony to the extremes one can endure for their dalliances.

I have been given to introspection during my tour of Hell. Memories of my mother have returned and now tug at my conscious almost to the point of distraction. This damnable place not only coats you externally it inclined to seep into the recesses of ones mind as well. Guilt was a weapon wielded with equal power by heaven and hell. Now it sought to topple me through memories of my own misguided past. Hell would have to unlock a deep bag of tricks if it intends to unseat my resolve. I know why I am here and for whom.

I stared blankly for a while into the furnace-like room before us. I could hear the others debating the best way to navigate the room. For some reason I was indifferent to the resolution. In the end we would all have to make a run through the room and take our chances with fate. When my turn came I was luckier than most and aside from scorched lungs and a few blisters emerged unscathed. We gathered in the comparatively cool stairwell opposite the room for a while to apply ointments and healing to those effected.

Soon we were exploring deeper into this so called house of the damned. A cavernous room opend up at the base of the stairs. It looked at first to be swathed in silky sheets, but upon closer inspection the webbing of spiders could be seen on every surface. Casper recoiled then ordered everyone to stay back. I shielded my eyes as the fiery cherry left his fingers. A moment later an explosion cleared the room of webs. Several small chambers were revealed exiting the cave. Some were filled with the cocooned bodies of the damned suffering the attacks of small spiders eating their flesh. A soft orange glow came from the far side of the room. Candlelight if I had to guess.

Calais took point as we slowly moved across the room. He did not signal for us to stop, but each of us instinctively did as we gazed into the room beyond. Seated on a stone throne bathed in the yellow light of candles sat a woman of magnificent proportions. Alabaster skin and raven hair made her seem less than real. Her hair rose above her head and wove itself neatly with a curtain of webs that divided her from the rooms beyond.

She moved with the grace of a queen and the confidence of a predator. Above her more of the damned wrestled with there condition, creating a swaying motion not unlike hammocks on a ship at sea.

She made an offering toward Calais from a bowl, he declined. Her posture seemed relaxed, but her eyes were sizing us up.
She spoke first. "What brings you to my lair?"
Calais responded "We seek Hells Taylor, did he pass this way?"
"Indeed he did." She replied gesturing to the freshly mended tear in her webbing.
"We have important business with him and seek a bargain for safe passage."
"I'm listening." She said leaning forward displaying her womanly features to best effect. I don't know that I have ever felt as fearful of what a naked woman might be capable of until now. Calais remained even in his tone and continued his discourse.
"How long have you occupied this place? Centuries? Eons? It must grow dull after a fashion to always deal with your prey in the same way. What would you say if I offered you something unknown to this place?"
She leaned closer still. "You have my attention mortal." Her sexual nature was difficult to ignore.
"What do you know of love?" Calais posed the question to her with the skill of an experienced fisherman. What was he scheming? He had to have some notion of where he was going with this ruse.
"Desire, lust, longing, sex, all these thing are common in Hell" She boasted confidently.
"No, I men real love. The kind that is formed between two people with mutual respect, surrendering safety for companionship." Calais words hung in the air. I felt the meaning behind those words.
"There is no love in Hell." She said with a scoff.
"What if I were to offer you a taste of love in exchange for our safe passage?" What did he say? A taste of love. No, do not get that close. She will consume you, she is a demoness!
"You dare to offer me this, even though I am not what I appear to be?" She shifted her form shaking off her womanly exterior. The strands of her hair that clung to the webbing transformed into glossy chitinous legs extending twice the length of Calais body. Her head split open to reveal mandible like fangs and black glossy eyes. Her body was black and segmented occupying a space more than double that of the throne.
"This is my true form mortal. Are you loath to share your gift knowing what I am." Her awesome presence sent stirs of fear through the hanging damned.
"What you are makes no matter to me. Do we have a deal?" Calais said smoothly. She reverted back to her fairer form and rose from the throne. Her hair now only partially clinging to the webs. Calais too took a step closer.
"How do you intend to complete your end of the bargain mortal." Her predatory gaze returning.
"With a kiss." The room was quiet except for the protestations coming from the damned. Their moans echoing my own heart. His offering could save or damn us, but for me I felt a coin slip from my heart's purse.

Each of them stepped deliberately toward the other. The image of her spidery form was still present in my minds eye. 'Careful my love'. I said softly as a kind of prayer.

The specter of a woman, nearly iridescent in the candle light, leaned in close, blood rushing to her lips. Calais pressed his lips to hers and visibly stiffened. Only their lips met. I could taste my lovers lips as though it were me he was kissing. I liked my lips involuntarily, then averted my gaze. When I looked up they were parted. She paused for a moment then turned her back. Enzo gripped his sword handle and was leaning forward in anticipation of betrayal. Casper too seemed poised for battle.

All the while I had not noticed the steady stream of chants and blessings carefully crafted by Corman. There had been a moment in the earlier exchange, come to think of it, where she chided Corman for blaspheming her home. Why hadn't she attacked us then. Was she so confident of her power that she did not respect ours? What magnificent vanity.

She had taken her taste of love and now I sensed her inner conflict. My hands were numb and unresponsive. The exchange between them had paralyzed me. I watched as she raised her hand, gesturing toward the web. She fanned her hand in the motion of opening a curtain and the strands of web obeyed. A second gesture removed the barrier entirely. Was she going to keep her bargain?

Calais was the first to move, he stepped through and soon the others followed. As I passed the curtain she spoke again.
"A taste of love is a worse torture than any conceived in Hell. Our bargain shall haunt me for eternity."
She never did tun to face us again.

We continued through the room beyond to discover the alcove choked with spidery horrors beyond description. Shiny black eyes seething, awaiting permission to descend on us.
They never did.

We descended into an empty chamber. Once insid,e the rough hewn cavern quickly changed to ordered stairs and worked walls. The hall continued for a time. When it ceased it opened into a small comfortable room with a window allowing moonlight to illuminate the surroundings.

A figure moved in the room. Each of us reacted to the presence in our practiced response to danger. It was Casper who stayed our hands. He gestured to hold and we did. The figure spoke, his face obscured in shadow by his cloak.
"What manner of demon disrupts me now?!" His voice was commanding and inquisitive at the same time. In his hand he held a book. It was worn from constant handling.
"We are not demons." I heard someone say.
Enzo broke the tension next. "You have a window? how lucky are you?" The calculated humor having its intended affect.

"My name is Laric." he said. The baritone of his voice carried an aura of weariness. He continued his introduction. We introduced ourselves. He seemed amused that it was we who had encountered his tower and now the man. He explained that Hells Tailor had passed through this room a day ago. The ruins of Mephistar are likely his destination said Laric. He continued to explain to us that around 350 years ago he came here to investigate the sweet tones of chaos, a reference we knew from the research in his tower. He stated he was here investigating when Mephastaphales captured and enslaved him. Once the great demon tired of Laric he was banished to this room for the last two hundred years. Laric used the books in the room to keep his mind sharp and to avoid the madness that such confined quarters could cause. He was unable to depart the room due to a curse he called a Maw. He showed us the palm of his hand and explained the Maw would consume him if he left the room. On his hand was a mouth, complete with teeth and tongue. It gnashed and attempted to bite him. The only way to be parted from the curse was to die or have someone voluntarily take it from him. Corman hatched a plan to free him in that instant. Though, convincing Laric of the validity of the offer took considerable discussion. Once the course of action was decided, Laric withdrew a long dagger from a dresser drawer. He held it to his chest as Calais applied the necessary pressure to rupture the mage's heart.

Corman attended the corpse, calling on the power of Dagmar to revive the slain wizard. The ceremony was complex and seemed to exact a terrible price on the Vorseman cleric. When the ceremony was complete the ancient wizard drew breath once more. With little more than a thank you he bid farewell and vanished.

Celeste reminded us that the Tailor was extending his lead on us and we needed to make haste. Once we were out the window we were greeted once more with the harsh terrain of Hell. Soon we came across a cobbled road. We followed the road for several hours through hill and valley until we crested a ridge. Looking down the slope across the plane I could make out a solitary building. In front of it was an intersecting road. Behind it a pair of metal rails. It ran parallel to our course. Seeing no other option and learning from the white imp that our quarry had traveled by rail we made our way to the lone faded white building.

As we approached the building I spied, perched up the roof, several winged demons. They chattered and pointed as we approached, but never inclined to attack.

We entered the building, inside it appeared to be a waiting area with benches. At the far end of the room was barred window below a clock. Adjacent to the widow were two chalk boards indicating the departure and arrival times of coaches and rails. I assumed the rails related to whatever vehicle traveled on the metal rails behind the station. In the waiting area was a demonic creature seated on a bench with a traveling case. He wore a flower patterned shirt and a straw hat. He was reading a folded paper, which he adjusted to act as a barrier between us and our chatter. Another oddity was visible beyond the barbed devil. A pig-like creature with long ears. He held a human male at the end of a chain while he sat patiently. The man was nearly naked and undernourished. He averted eye contact and was nearly as docile as the walking damned.

The white imp indicated we would need passage to Dis from Avernes. The arrangements for passage were arduous. We hadn't soul coins enough to afford passage. Enzo and Corman engaged in bartering with the clerk. Bored with the proceedings I surveyed the building. The clock over the clerks station had an unnatural clarity in its ticking of the minutes as if declaring that the passage of time were the most important thing in this room.

I reflected on the scene in the spider queens lair. In my hole life I have professed to be a free spirit, only requiring what the land would yield and what I could carry. I had shunned attachment. From the moment I laid eyes on Calais in the meeting room at The Chalice I had become encumbered. Desire swelled in me unabated. I feared rejection more than attachment and remained aloof for a time. His genuine spirit and nobility of purpose finished in me what nature started. I would be his if he would have me.

Within me now was a tempest threatening to blow asunder what was months to build. I had suffered a wound that shall not soon heal. I know what he offered was calculated to purchase our safe passage, but what hurt the most was knowing how vulnerable I was to his affections or the lack of it. This was no machination of hell it was emotion pure and simple. Am I steel in need of further tempering? Will hell's hammer pound the impurities out or will it win out, driving us all apart. Even Celeste and Enzo seem to have unnatural coolness between them. Oh, when shall we be free of this wicked place!

I turned to see that the human slave was now following Enzo and Enzo was holding enough tickets for each of us to board. From outside I heard the scream of a steam whistle. The sound was tainted with what must be screams of the damned. As we collected on the dock outside we watched as a metal beast rolled into the station on the rails. Its wheels too were forged of iron. The beast belched black smoke into the sky which trailed out behind it like vein knight's plume. It hissed and screeched as it stopped. Was the the Rail? Surely we are not meant to ride on this thing or in it?

The others ambled forward. I followed, though my instincts railed against my will. A squad of the damned leapt from the Rail as I climbed aboard. Shovels in had they stabbed into the mountain of brimstone adjacent to the building intent on feeding the beast. The other creatures from the station climbed into the belly of the beast. There were other already inside when we entered. The demonic being at the door tore our tickets as we entered. Were we so inconspicuous as to avoid notice in this strange place?

Once inside I noticed several more of the barbed devils seated on either side of the isle playing cards. Stacks of money were pushed to the middle area in their midst. They too ignored us. Perhaps there was some civility in Hell?

Once aboard, the Rail started moving at an alarming rate. The landscape outside seemed to slide by without opportunity to glimpse its nature. Though I hardly expected to see anything new. On the far side of the room was a large winged demon and a human looking woman. They were openly engaged in the act of love making. Though the way they performed it seemed to defy physical limits. The woman seemed intent on wooing further participants in the melee, but was content to receive the zealous attentions of the demon singly.

At the conclusion of their tryst applause erupted from my midst's. I was horrified to see that we, I mean Calais was drawing their attention to us by clapping Enzo and the others joined in. Close quarters combat was not my idea of good strategy, at least for me.

My intemperance flooded my face with hot blood. ‘Come lecherous spawns of Hell.' I mouthed under my breath. ‘We shall see who will rue the day'. The air around me charged with electricity then discharged with deafening resolve. Calis narrowly avoided the bolt of lightning from the winged demon. I could smell the charred wood of the coach and hear glass breaking behind me. A sudden draft entered the room. The hot wind tossed ticket stubs and debris all around the confined space. Calais answered the demon by emptying his quiver into him. My heart sunk. We are ill-equipped for this fight. I tried to maximize each shot. When my quiver draws empty we shall find ourselves elbow deep in the blood of demons. Celeste did not wait for the others to engage in the melee. Drawing her thin blades she waded into the first of the horned devils. Enzo was quick to follow her. Soon we were all in it. The wind whipping through the room was silenced by a bright flash and a bang. My skin reported nothing, buy my eyes knew a great fire was descending on us. The clash of steel was only interrupted by occasions for Casper and Corman to shout their magic. Calling on the sources of their power to magnificent effect. I heard Casper shout move back in Calais' direction. I too was near him and felt the urge to move. A rain of color reflected on the ceiling of the coach. Behind me the nefarious creatures fell silent. Casper had unleashed some new form of pain upon them. The poker playing demons were almost spent and the great winged demon took the opportunity to make his exit. We had won the day. The paralyzed vacationing demon stood, eyes wild as we debated his future. After much debate Enzo hefted his carcass to the window and threw him from the Rail.

We were alone on the coach. The white imp returned after the battle and informed us we had another six hours until we reached the station at Dis. There would be little time to rest.