The Ball of Liquid was surprised at their motives. They had come all the way from the land of eternal winter, arrived at the Slimewood Forest, and told it that they wanted an alliance.
Vyrgil was especially annoying, throwing darts at it nonstop. The goblin didn't even seem to be doing it on purpose.
It could only communicate with undead through the Ther'vassi communication channel, otherwise known as the Forums of the Damned. It understood that they wanted it to come with them to visit the lich to form a non-aggression and defensive alliance. It couldn't figure out why the lich had to be in the alliance.
It was a farmer; it would keep getting stronger as long as it consumed the magic cores of other slimes in the forest. In its mind, it didn't need the so-called alliance. It understood that it wasn't invincible, yet there were no direct threats to itself. When it asked Selithrae why, Selithrae pointed at the goblin and said, "That vampire has the most unreliable and reliable luck in Orbisar. I trust that luck more than I trust my own judgment on the state of things."
She claimed that the goblin's luck showed they needed to be in an alliance, and the lich had to be in that alliance. They posed no threat to it, so it let them be. How wrong it was to let them be!
The undead slime soon understood what she meant by unreasonable luck. It walked around in the forest; trees fell on it. It walked in the ruins of Ther'vassi experimental sites; random magic activated and sprayed acid all over it. Whenever it did anything, it got hurt. When it simply stayed in the open, lightning struck it.
When it asked Selithrae about these weird occasions, it learned about the probability field around the goblin. Everything had to be the way Vyrgil's luck demanded. Willing or not, it had to participate in a nonsensical alliance.
Sum'gial POV
"Tell me about the King of Hell," Sum'gial inquired.
"Can't you focus on the magic at hand? You are casting a spell with a cringe name like Sum'gial's Soul Reorganizer, and you still have time to ask questions!" Ahr'zel retorted.
"I literally hold your soul yarn in my hand, and you still have this attitude," Sum'gial said, as a matter of fact.
"Fine! The King of Hell, supreme ruler of the nine floors, doesn't care about anything—lets the archdukes do what they want. I heard a rumor that he likes to watch the fun. I don't know anything else," Ahr'zel replied.
"Watching the fun, you say? If the King of Hell is similar to what you say, I have something that will satisfy him. Tell me about the fallen golden dragon, the Archduke of the Ninth Hell," Sum'gial said lightly.
"Based on what I know, he was the foremost fighter against the chromatic dragons in the Age of Dragons. He was tough on himself as well as on his enemies. While he was half dead from the fighting, he was picked up by the King of Hell," Ahr'zel said with trepidation.
As Sum'gial kept working on Ahr'zel's soul yarn, he asked, "I am curious why you chose the urge for correctness for this spell."
"As a mortal I was a clerk; in Hell I was an administrator in the Ninth Hell resources department; now I am a librarian. My choice won't change my character too much—it won't affect what I do, and may even enhance it," Ahr'zel replied.
"That's what you think. In order to affect your true name, I will have to boost that already prominent desire to unimaginable levels!" Sum'gial said lightly.
"What?!" yelled Ahr'zel.
"Don't worry about it; it will be like an itch that can never be scratched enough. I told you before not to rush me into the spell. I needed more experiments to ensure you would be fine after the spell—you reap what you sow. Tell me more about the fall of the golden dragon," Sum'gial reprimanded.
"You are going to turn me into a freak of correctness, yet you want information at this juncture?!" Ahr'zel said, brimming with madness.
"If you don't tell me the information I need, you will get less from the hand of god. While I may possess it, it is a hot potato in my hand. Giving it to you and the archduke is my way out; however much you get depends on how much the archduke gets," Sum'gial threatened.
"Fine! The chromatic dragons at that time gathered and created a super magic that combined their breaths somehow. Whoever was hit by it got wounds that couldn't heal. That's how the golden dragon was injured. In return, the golden dragon created a magic that would heal him and make him more powerful than before. Its name is Jörmungandr. I don't know how it works, only that it's related to eating!" Ahr'zel replied.
"What happened after? I doubt the dragon gods were happy with a golden dragon defecting to Hell," Sum'gial inquired.
"During the battle, using this magic, he ate several chromatic dragons, gaining their abilities. As he ate more and more chromatic dragons, he became increasingly evil. Finally, the dragon gods expelled him. The chromatic dragons were waiting for an opportunity to attack him; their attacks weakened him, and as a result the King of Hell scooped him up!" Ahr'zel explained.
"I am done with your soul. I am about to cast the soul-solidification spell to make the changes permanent. After that you will need to call the will of Hell to make it aware of the change," Sum'gial said.
Selithrae POV
Selithrae couldn't believe the fact that she would become an adventurer. Three undead walked into the adventurers' guild hall. She walked to the counter to get information about their target. At the counter stood a guild member named Cecil. Selithrae learned from Cecil that the lich's lair was near the stronghold of Gromun-dahr.
Why was she at this place that stank of humans and life? She convinced Muck that Vyrgil's luck wouldn't leave it or her alone until Vyrgil's luck was satisfied with their alliance.
In Selithrae's opinion, Muck was an oddity. It didn't fight for anything, never refused what was given to it, yet it did everything.
Selithrae motioned for them to follow her and left the adventurers' guild; of course, Muck walked right through the wall, breaking it apart. Vyrgil absent-mindedly walked along, and every piece of debris from the broken wall somehow avoided the vampire goblin disguised as a halfling.
Selithrae gripped the worry beads tightly and sighed. She threw a gold pouch back to Cecil, who had gotten used to the destructive Muck in the week they had known each other.
Selithrae cast the Hut Space spell and entered the hut along with Muck and Vyrgil.
"I inquired about news of the lich. He is near the stronghold of Gromun-dahr. I doubt there are many liches around here," Selithrae said.
"Why don't we just ask the lich for his position?" Muck asked.
"I have a feeling that's a bad idea," Vyrgil said.
"We have to trust Vyrgil's luck in this. Last time I tried something without Vyrgil's luck, the consequences weren't kind to me," Selithrae said dryly.
—
They had joined a slave merchant's caravan in Gromun-dahr. The caravan was headed for E'nathyr. Based on what they gathered from the Forums of the Damned, E'nathyr was where the lich was born.
The merchant they had joined was of mixed blood—human, dark dwarf, and drow. It was a chaotic creature that drew Vyrgil's attention. From what they gathered, the slave merchant saw it as just a job. He would buy the slaves from the people themselves and their families. The bottom of the bottom—people with debts, people who couldn't feed themselves, etc.—were all bought by the slave merchant and brought to the Underdeep.
Malvek Ryh'dunn was a creature of many talents; he could find anything and everything, according to his claims. Selithrae was curious why Malvek would choose a route through the Tower of Bones, though. The luck of Vyrgil was reliable as always. They had spent a mere hour in the stronghold, yet they were already on their way to the Tower of Bones.
Malvek Ryh'dunn POV
He had always lived under his father's shadow. Malvek, a descendant of Sum'gial, was born around two hundred years ago as an experiment of his father's philosophy studies of good, neutral, and evil. He had assisted his half-brother Jacob, the Orchid Cult, and a myriad of other living beings in hunting his father—first as a necromancer, now as a lich.
Now, he was transporting even undead toward his father. Malvek sighed. His half-human, half-dark dwarf mother had already explained the contract she made with his father in the halls of Gromun-dahr. Possessing his father's intelligence and the patience of a dark dwarf smelting a weapon, Malvek always looked at things differently.
He was not a warrior, mage, or assassin, but a merchant—a merchant who would do anything for profit. Thanks to his mother's deal, he was harassed in neither E'nathyr nor dark-dwarf territory nor at the Tower of Bones. He was already looking forward to retirement. He was two hundred years old; his lifespan was running low unless he made a deal with his father to become an undead.
Despite slavery being forbidden by all the surface races and gods, he kept the slavery business alive thanks to his approach of buying slaves from the people themselves. The gods forbade making slaves, not being slaves of their own will. He knew every nook and corner of the dwarven kingdom. Every dark corner, every darkness under the light.
Malvek was tired—not in body, but in soul. His father didn't make things as difficult for him as he did for Jacob; yet living under his shadow—living in fear, not even daring to have a loved one—was exhausting. Malvek was driving his caravan toward the Tower of Bones. This time, he would meet face-to-face with the lich.
He didn't know what awaited him; that's why he was taking the undead with him.
Sum'gial POV
Hell—chaos, neutrality, and order all together—was formed from the evil thoughts of the gods of gods, the almighty. Hell had a will of its own; it was formed of rules and affected by the dark god. Despite supposedly having nine floors, Hell had a plethora of worlds and planes under its control. The greed of the archdukes knew no bounds, and the King of Hell was happy to watch them conquer world after world, plane after plane.
Not much is known about the King of Hell; his only known moniker is the Watcher of All Evil. He watches a mother beating her son, a son murdering his father—burnings, wars, destruction—all evil is under his watch.
"Of Hell and Evil" by a Ther'vassi scholar.
After closing the book, Sum'gial realized that he needed more hands in the tower. His desire for magic and his obsessions with exactness, perfectionism, and checking everything at least twice demanded that his tower be as perfect as possible.
He watched lightly as Ahr'zel summoned the will of Hell. As the will of Hell changed the true name of the devil, he had no reaction. Ahr'zel wasn't a strong devil in the common sense; he was an administrator who borrowed the power of the archduke, yet he made this choice.
Most of the knowledge in Sum'gial's library was forbidden knowledge—Ther'vassi magitech, methods of achieving lichdom; it even contained many names of gods. It was ill-thought to have a devil who wasn't directly under his control possess such knowledge. That's why he brought out a fallen god's hand from the Age of Goblins. He did know the hand possessed a small amount of godhood.
Sum'gial had no interest in becoming a god. His interest was purely magic and obsessions.