"Ubinosis erronazanz blutuphonkrar!"

The gates that had stopped him before were blown to bits, crushing ten skeletons.

"There! Those gates won't be a problem again." The wizard smirked.

Arrows, crossbow bolts, and rocks all turned to dust as they struck the magical flaming barriers around the Red Wizard and his steed.

Black magical flames burst from Marcus's fingertips and burned the bodies of the dead mercenaries to ashes. The floor of the deadly passage, choked with bodies moments ago, was now covered in black soot. All Marcus could see now was the open gate ahead of him. Finally, victory would be his.

"This is how war should be-with me in triumph! Where is Brittle, that fool? He could learn from this!"

Marcus rode proudly into the city of Phlan on his snorting nightmare, a sulfurous cloud surrounding him. To his left and right stood massive squads of defenders. But they were too far away for Marcus's spells of destruction to reach.

Only a lone man, a warrior-priest, stood before him.

"I've seen you before, priest. You caused me trouble in the last battle!"

Tarl saw only a pillar of flame, but knew the Red Wizard spoke from within. He looked around the city quickly to assess the situation. Everywhere, Phlan's defenders ably challenged the hordes of monsters and soldiers. Far above him, the magical ribbon wove across the sky, rainbow energies surging down on the enemy. Tarl picked out Shal's shade of purple and sighed, knowing that she was safe and her efforts were making a difference. He turned back to the Red Wizard.

"What have you done to the city of Phlan?" Tarl shouted. Sweat coated his forehead as he swung at a few undead soldiers who got close enough to worry him.

"Puny human! My warriors will destroy you!" Marcus ordered his skeletons forward to attack the priest.

As the mass of clacking, enchanted bones approached the cleric, he lifted his hammer. The holy relic glowed with a blinding blue radiance. Tyr's power was strong in Tarl. The nearest attacking skeletons instantly turned to dust at his feet. He knew no fear. Rank after rank of skeletons approached and were destroyed in mere seconds. A heap of dusty armor and weapons lay at the feet of the cleric as he gazed into the center of the flaming pillar.

"Answer my questions now, wizard, or feel the might of my god!" Tarl moved toward the pillar of flame.

A magical parchment in Marcus's hand burst into flame as it launched a fireball, a circle of fire, and a mass of writhing, burning tentacles at the cleric. The priest was blotted from sight by the powerful, dark flames, but his hammer absorbed every bit of the fire magic and glowed brighter for the forces that were contained.

To his horror, Marcus had discovered that the blue weapon was capable of absorbing any nearby spell on command. His tower of flame and all his protections vanished as the damnable cleric approached.

The furious Red Wizard yanked at the reins of his mount, launching himself over the wall in a streak of flames. As he flew upward into the sky, purple and orange streaks blazed after him and surrounded him. Marcus retreated from Phlan, leaving his troops to fend for themselves.

The bright, streaking path of the cowardly wizard's retreat caught the attention of Ston and Tulen. They slapped each other on the back and hopped around on the wall, cackling in delight. Marcus's flashy exit was also noticed by Brittle.

"By the gods," the skeletal leader hissed. "We'd have won this battle!"

Brittle and the ogres had cleared the defenders from the center gateway. The trolls were destroyed, but the orcs still were fighting with vigor. Yet Phlanish reinforcements were on the way, and Brittle could see spellcasters floating toward the gates.

"Retreat! Leap from the walls!" Brittle took his own advice and jumped down. He'd be damned if he would allow himself to be destroyed twice in a thousand years-especially because his commander was an idiot and a coward. If he ever got his bony hands on that Red Wizard, there would be a real reckoning.

An enraged, wild-eyed Marcus screamed profanities as he burst into the spellcasting chamber of his red tower. The massive pit fiend calmly sat cross-legged, levitating a few inches off a glowing pattern on the floor.

Some of the wizard's rage and frustration lessened at the comical sight of his fiend looking small and silly, floating above the floor. But then the creature stood up, still floating, and there was nothing comical about the beast anymore. The smell of stale blood filled the room, and the massive monster stretched from wingtip to toe. The fiend was a horrid monster even among its own kind. Marcus noted that the creature seemed even bigger and more powerful now than it had when it had first entered this world at his summons.

"How have you lost now? Latenat!" the fiend hissed, dripping green goo that sizzled as it struck the black stone floor.

The offended wizard stared sternly at the pit fiend, then held out his hand. A ball of black mist masked a large object in the wizard's grasp-the fiend's heart. The creature bowed its head. Marcus held the key to the fiend's existence on the Prime Material Plane-its name-and the one thing that could be used to destroy it utterly-its unbeating heart. If the wizard wished to, he could send the pit fiend screaming back to the Nine Hells or even destroy him outright at any time.

"I led a perfect battle!" Marcus shrieked and paced about the casting chamber. Tiny red flames sparked and vanished on the wizard's cloak as the room became filled with magical light. The room grew brighter and brighter, and the pit fiend seemed to shrink a bit. Marcus knew that fiends preferred the dark.

"It is time you realize what type of foe we face down there," the wizard ranted. "I have led too many unsuccessful attacks against Phlan. That thrice-damned place is a city always ready for battle. This time we actually broke through the gates, but got no farther. Next time you are going down there to aid the attack yourself."

"I thought we agreed that I would defend this tower and concentrate on gaining us more power. You're supposed to be leading the armies. Latenat!" The pit fiend was careful about the tone in his voice.

"I don't care what we agreed on! Phlan must be conquered, and the troops you've given me aren't strong enough. Bane is going to own both our souls! Then where will we be?"

"I will go back where I came from, no better, no worse. You, on the other hand, can expect to find yourself transformed by an amazingly painful process into a larva. You will then be thrown into a ten-mile-high mountain of scummy larva much like yourself. You will then be toyed with or devoured by some minions that you will find most unpleasant. Latenat!" The fiend's tone was matter-of-fact, but inside he was secretly gloating.

"Know, my master, that I have been in contact with clerics of the great Moander. A branch of their sect is now on its way with a new army for you to command-an army of troops that won't be affected by arrows or stones. This army will be sure to break down all the walls of Phlan and give us the souls we need.

"I have fulfilled my part of our bargain. I have sent some of the mercenary troops into the dark pool to appease Bane. These humans were fools. I told them they would be made invincible by the enchanted pool's ebony waters. They never realized they were destined to feed Bane. He was grateful and appeased, at least temporarily. He told me to compliment you on your progress. What more, master, can I do for you? Latenat!"

Marcus still seethed. "Until now, you have bungled everything except this last bit of news, but at least that was well done. I am now going to my throne room to wait until this fresh army arrives. I will send out magical spies to find the best places to attack Phlan. What I need is more information about the city."