Dawn over the mighty Everfree Forest was quite a sight to behold. The sun’s golden rays shined down on the vast woodland and banished the haunting darkness with their heavenly brilliance. Diurnal woodland animals left the safety of their burrows and nests to gather food as colorful flowers caught the light and danced merrily in the morning breeze. Grey silently watched this picturesque scene unfold from atop a rocky outcrop, fond memories drifting through his mind. He and his newest companion had made good progress through the night but the ‘Tired and Fatigued’ Trixie could only go so far before the need for sleep overwhelmed her. The animus had elected to forgo another possible meeting with Luna and kept watch through the night.

“I’ll give her a few more minutes then we have to move on.” The stygian stallion planned as he scanned the horizon for landmarks. “If that is Foal Mountain to the south and Neighagra Falls to the north, then the junction leading to Hollow Shades should be nearby.”

Once he was sure of his bearings, the hooded haunter climbed off his lookout and silently dropped down to the shady area he and Trixie had decided to make camp. After making sure the azure unicorn was still breathing, he produced the cold iron ring he had acquired last night as well as the horn of the late Dusty Tomes from his nebulous body. He began etching anti-magic runes into the band while murmuring esoteric mantras.

“I don’t know what exactly is waiting for me in the Pits of Tartarus.” The ancient Lord thought as he finished the outer part of the band and started on the inner. “But no one ever died from being too careful.”

With one last precise motion, the intricate band was nearly complete and only lacked a final component to generate the now enhanced null field. The hooded horse held it close and whispered a single word in his native tongue that chilled the air and deepened the shadows of the camp. The slumbering Trixie whimpered in her sleep as the wave of anti-magic washed over her body.

“Sorry about that, Miss Lulamoon.” Grey said aloud as he put away his instruments and checked the position of the sun. “But it is time to rise and shine.”

“Trixie is best pony...stop mocking her…” The slumbering unicorn shifted beneath her cape-turned-blanket and snuggled deeper into her hat-turned-pillow. “Her power is maximum…she will prove it…”

The shadowy stallion prodded the snoozing unicorn with his hoof only to receive the muffled murmurs of a still-dreaming hedge mage.

“Don’t tug on the cape…” She grumbled to phantom hecklers. “…It’s Delicate and Expensive like Trixie.”

Another less gentle prod to the ribs finally forced the azure unicorn to return to the waking world with a start.

“Ah! Who? Oh, it’s just you.” She whinnied once her senses joined her in reality. “Ugh. Trixie was having an awful dream. She barely got any decent sleep.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” Grey said as he helped her to her hooves. “But once we get to Hollow Shades, we should be able to find an inn.”

“And food.” Trixie added, running a hoof over her taut abdomen. “Trixie is sick of sustaining herself with wildflowers, pinecones, and berries.”

“Pinecones?” The animus wondered but decided against asking for more details.

Once the former magician composed herself as best she could and donned her wizardly attire, the two trotted back to the path and continued toward the isolated thestral colony. Without the threat of night stalkers accosting them, their journey was considerably less perilous. Trixie decided to use this period of tranquility to learn a bit more about their eventual destination.

“The Astute and Inquisitive Trixie wishes to know more about your realm.” The unicorn said conversationally. “Is Hollow Shades part of it or is it just a landmark?”

“Landmark.” The lugubrious Lord answered simply. “Avernus should lie just beyond the colony.”

“What-nus?” Trixie cocked her head to the side.

“A crater lake.” Grey clarified. “It marks where Equestria ends and my dominion begins.”

The azure magician furrowed her brow in thought. Every atlas she had ever read to plan her show routes said there was nothing between Hollow Shades and the Celestial Sea but forest and plains. Was Grey playing her for a fool or had he somehow concealed an entire nation from the watchful eyes of Equestria for decades? Her ego demanded that it not be the former so she decided to ask about the latter.

“Trixie has traveled all across Equestria and she has never heard nor seen a realm within its borders.” She said in an almost accusatory tone. “Assuming you are not lying to her, how have you managed to keep it hidden?”

“I’d say that being underground combined with the forgetfulness of ages did the trick.” The stygian stalker thought. “As for magical detection…”

“Null runes, cloaking rituals, and other such arts.” The enigmatic equine explained candidly to his companion. “The denizens of my realm prefer to remain hidden from wandering and prying eyes.”

“Trixie has heard of such forbidden schools of magic.” The former magician’s skepticism morphed into trepidation. “She was always told that they were the machinations of evil creatures and not meant for civilized ponies.”

“I’ll admit they can seem rather sinister to the, shall we say, uninitiated.” Grey admitted as memories of a certain blood libation he had offered in the Frozen North came to mind. “But they are ultimately just tools; no more or less evil than the one that wields them.”

“Hmm.” Trixie let the conversation hang in the air as she considered her companion’s point.

She had dabbled in darker magic before through an enchanted amulet. The former performer had used its powers to boost her already considerable abilities to near-Alicorn levels. It had even allowed her to defeat the one and only Twilight Sparkle in a magical duel but at the heavy cost of her sanity. The Humble and Apologetic Trixie had fortunately been brought back to her senses but she would be lying if she claimed she did not miss that kind of power. If she could regain it, she swore to herself that she would not squander it on some poorly thought out revenge scheme but rather augment her amazing talents. Now here was her new benefactor offering to do just that.

“The Sharp and Perceptive Trixie senses that you speak from experience.” The unicorn inferred. “She wishes to know where you learned such things.”

“I had the luxury of studying the grimoires of those who had perfected it.” Grey answered candidly.

“Do you think that Trixie could have access to these texts?” The traveling magician said with an edge of excitement in her voice. “If they were a boon to you, imagine what they could be for her.”

“Oh, I know that look.” The stygian stallion recognized the will to power in the unicorn’s violet eyes.

“You are welcome to them once we arrive, my eager mage.” The hooded horse said encouragingly. “Until then, I could give you a crash course on some of the basics, if you so desire.”

“Oh, Trixie most certainly does!” The would-be apprentice beamed before her ego reared its head again. “But do not make the mistake in thinking that you are Trixie's master! This is just…uh… a demonstration!”

“Of course.” Grey fought the urge to roll his pale eyes. “Now, shall we start with something simple?”

For the next few hours, the Khthonic king imparted upon the excited azure caster some of the fundamentals of the stygian mysteries. He started with basic runes, something Trixie grasped easily once she discovered that she could use a precise beam from her horn to create the intricate glyphs. The incantation to empower them, however, proved troublesome as the mare struggled to properly pronounce the ancient phrases. Each word sounded alien coming from her mouth and sent chills down her spine as if her blood had turned to ice. After a few failures, Trixie’s frustration was becoming apparent.

“Come on! Work, you stupid doodle!” The magician snarled at a rune she had drawn into a rock at the edge of a field of blue-hued poison joke. “How many times must Trixie repeat this gibberish?”

“There is more to it than mere words, Miss Lulamoon.” Grey instructed patiently. “Intention is required. You are commanding these plants to die, not telling.”

Trixie took a moment to think about what he meant before she tried again. In her head, she did not see the flowers but the faces of a certain trio of naysayers that had dared question her talents. She may have made amends with Twilight but the same could not be said of her feckless friends. With a venomous whisper that made her own fur stand on end, the unicorn spoke the ancient syllables and was rewarded with an emerald glow from the rune. A wave of power pulsed out from the glyph and washed over the sapphire field of flowers, reducing it to a sickly brown and then a lifeless gray in a matter of moments. Its power expended, the rune faded away and the stone collapsed into dust with a pitiful poof.

“The Potent and Herbicidal Trixie triumphs once again!” The mare cheered with a malevolent gleam in her eyes as she crushed one of the once irksome blooms beneath her hoof with impunity.

"That was one of the easier ones." The Lord of Shades thought to himself. "She has a long way to go but there's potential there."

“Well done.” The hooded horse nodded in approval. “You have the capacity to learn the ancient arts, at least.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” Trixie drawled smugly.

With her first taste of success, the magician was eager to move on to something else. While the shadowy stallion considered hunting down a hare to demonstrate a simple necromantic libation, the two of them came to a T-Junction in the road. A simple wooden signpost helpfully pointed out that the road they were currently on eventually lead to the metropolis of Manehatten and its surrounding boroughs while the other went down to Hollow Shades.

“I’m afraid that we must conclude the ‘demonstration’, Miss Lulamoon.” Grey said as he indicated the side road. “This is our exit.”

“We have to go down there?” Trixie asked as they stood before the ominous path to the thestral colony. “It looks dangerous.”

In contrast to the sun-blessed road they had been traveling, the gnarled trees of the Everfree had grown together to form a dark tunnel of foliage over the sunken path. It did not help that a layer of mist clung to the low ground. With encouraging nudge to Trixie’s flanks, the Lord and mage left the midday light behind and trotted into the murky gloom.

“Trixie has heard stories of how the thestrals live in perpetual night.” The unicorn said as she conjured a floating magelight to see where they were going. “Do you think they created it themselves?”

“Doubtful.” Grey answered aloud. “This forest has not been tamed by either might or magic. It has most likely been like this for centuries.”

This did little to comfort the magical mare. She unconsciously trotted a little closer to the larger stallion as they went deeper still into the woods. Even with the light from her orb, the long shadows seemed to linger for a bit too long before retreating before it.

"I think we are being followed." Grey mused to himself.

“Hmm, if the bat-ponies are half as paranoid as they are rumored to be, we should have come across some by now.” The hooded horse said, pausing with a knowing glance at the treeline.

“What do you mean?” Trixie asked.

“Patrols, booby-traps…” Grey explained just the unicorn’s light source was snuffed out, plunging them both into near darkness. “…or an ambush.”

As if on cue, a group of shrieking thestrals pounced on them from all sides. Trixie barely had time to get a shot off before she was taken to the ground by a bat-pony landing on her back. Grey was a bit quicker to dodge and was able to layout an ambusher with a solid hoof to the face. He was about to assist his struggling companion until one of the thestrals had the bright idea of aiming Trixie at him. Cranking her tail, he forced the unicorn to unwillingly fire a flurry of magical bolts into the shadowy stallion before he had a chance to shift into his nebulous form.

“Nine Hells, not this again!” Grey mentally swore as a bolt caught one of his eyes, stunning him.

While he was still recovering from the blast, the other bat-ponies surrounded and cornered him against a tree. With stars dancing in his vision, Grey decided it was best to surrender to the vampiric ponies rather than try to fight them blindly.

“Well, well, well. What have we caught in our net this time?” One of the thestrals, likely their leader, sneered as he dropped down from the forest canopy. “Trespassers? Spies?”

“I think the unicorn is a magician.” Another answered after looking her captive over. “That or a wizard-themed stripper.”

“Trixie is not a damn stripper!” The indignant unicorn shouted. “She entertains with dazzling magic, not her beautifully formed-!”

Any further interjections from the hedge-mage were silenced by the head thestral leaning in and jabbing a cloven hoof into her face. He was clearly not in the mood for back talk.

“I didn’t ask you.” He punctuated each word with a sharp tap on her muzzle to ensure she understood. “What about the big one?”

“He’s a fighter to be sure.” A bat-pony nursing a black eye responded. “Hits like a freight train.”

"And that was me holding back." The tenebrous traveler mentally quipped.

“So we have a dancer and her escort, is that it?” The leader looked to each of the captives to gauge their reaction.

“Better to explain myself to the Countess rather than her grunts.” Grey thought as his companion shot the thestrals death glares.

“Hmm, perhaps I’m mistaken.” The squad sergeant recanted once he did not get the expected reaction to his accusation. “Still, this makes the fourth time somepony has dared the sunken path.”

He signaled two of his compatriots to stand Trixie up and back off of Grey. Bared teeth from the bat-ponies told them it would be a bad idea to try and run.

“Take them back to Hollow Shades.” The leader ordered. “Countess Dunwich will want to, heh, ‘talk’ with them herself.”

With a confirmatory salute, Grey and Trixie’s new escorts guided them none-to-gently down the path while the rest disappeared back into the tree line. The hooded stallion leaned over to whisper to his fuming companion.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly.

“Hmph!” Trixie turned her nose up haughty. “As if these blood-sucking fiends could harm the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The Dark Lord thought.

“Naturally.” Grey whispered. “Now listen. When we meet the Countess, let me do the talking.”

“You do that.” The unicorn encouraged. “You outrank her as a lord. Tell her that she needs to reign in her thugs if she wants to continue squatting on your borders.”

"In the grand scheme of things, I pretty much outrank everyone." The Hidden One mused. "Its just a matter of regaining the ability to back that up."

“Shut up back there.” One of the guards hissed at them. “I swear, I could hit you two blindfolded, you’re so loud.”

The group continued on in silence as they trotted into the furthest reaches of the Everfree. In time, the forest thinned as the ground became rocky and rose in a gradual incline. Their muted hoof falls became a steady clip-clop as worn cobblestone replaced packed dirt. The shaded path came to a large stone gateway with the sigil of the Night Guard, a bleached winged equine skull, leered down at them from the keystone of the archway. Above that, in smooth granite, was etched ‘Hollow Shades’.

“Finally.” The ancient animus thought. “Feels like I’ve been traveling here for months.”

“Halt!” A voice called out from atop the gateway. “Who goes there?”

“A detachment from Night Stalker squad.” One of the guards answered. “We have unwelcomed guests.”

“Again?” The gate guard said in surprise. “Hold on, I’ll get the gate.”

With a heavy groan, the thick wooden gate slowly swung out to allow entry. The group trotted through and into the infamous town. Here, the ground rose sharply into an uneven ring of stone outcrops as if a lone mountain had been broken open. Within what would have been the roots of the mountain were numerous homes that appeared to have been built from the rubble itself. With the exception of few shadows passing in front of softly glowing windows, the town was nearly empty.

“It’s probably late afternoon at this point.” Grey guessed as he looked up at the oddly overcast sky. “A bit too early for them to be up and about.”

As they moved down the rough streets, an elegant statue caught the tenebrous traveler's attention at the edge of a yawning chasm; the eponymous hollow of Hollow Shades. It depicted a familiar alicorn locked in a duel with an equally familiar figure with four wings. There was little time to properly take in the sights, however, as their escorts herded the two toward a foreboding structure carved out of one of the western rockface. In contrast to the almost ruined appearance of the township, the keep looked well maintained.

"Dunwich's seat of power, I presume." The Dark Lord mused. "I'll have to win her favor before I can explore this area fully. Let's hope Luna's token is enough to convince the good Countess."

Tirek, Grogar and Zeb slowly but steadily made their way through the Eternal Engine that was the Fourth Circle. The industrial hellscape was a maze of scaffolding, pipework and machinery that twisted and doubled back on itself multiple times. That combined with the pervasive miasma of scalding steam and choking smog made the threat of becoming hopelessly lost even greater.

"Getting lost in here can only end in two ways." The cobalt ram muttered as he glanced down at the condemned laboring beneath them. "Tore apart by the taskmasters or enslaved by them."

Grogar quickly refocused on the centaur and zebra in front of him. As he was down a limb, he was lagging behind his companions a worrying amount. The bell ringer quicked his pace as the crimson and stripes of his partners vanished in a plume of steam.

"Damn it!" The ram grunted as he pushed through the burning cloud. "Hey! I know we are in a hurry but can you two slow down?"

If they responded, it was lost in the din of infernal industry. Grogar pushed onward even as the stench of ozone made his head spin. Just as he thought he was about to be turned into steamed chevon, the bell ringer emerged from the miasma and into a very different world. Gone was the industrialized hellscape and in its place was an almost picturesque scene of a kingdom long consigned to the annals of history.

"Tambelon." The goat-lord froze as he beheld his old home. "Wha-?"

"Sire, the Equestrians have crossed Macintosh Hills." A military voice said behind him. "They will be here within the hour."

The ram turned to see a small group of armored goats around a table with a map of the area spread out before them. At the head of the table, seated upon a stone throne, was a copy of himself whole and free of demonic stitch work. The patchwork bell ringer's face fell as he realized just when this memory took place.

"Did anyone make it out of there?" Past Grogar asked. "Surely, we did not lose our whole army."

"Most were either captured or scattered to the winds, sire." A general whose name the ram had long since forgotten reported. "We did receive a few stragglers but they are barely enough to hold a grain silo let alone the city."

"We still have the elite guard but I doubt even they will be enough." Another added. "I won't lie to you, sire. We are in a tight spot."

"Hmm." The goat lord rested his chin on his hooves as he mulled over his options.

"You could have emptied the treasury and fled to Knossos. Hired a mercenary army and retook the city." His present self impotently admonished. "Shit, you could have mounted a last stand and at least died like a ram worth your horns!"

There was a period of tense silence that was broken by the distinct chime of a teleport spell. The already jumpy council were ready for a strike team of equines to appear but dropped their guard when only a scroll bearing the Equestrian seal dropped down onto the table. Past Grogar slid off his throne and retrieve the missive. His generals waited anxiously as their lord read its contents to himself, moving toward the balcony overlooking the city as he did so.

"What does it say, sire?" One of them asked. "Terms of surrender?"

"An ultimatum from Celestia herself." The bell ringer corrected bitterly. "Join Equestria or be eradicated."

"Which one is she?" A council member whispered to the one seated next to him who shrugged.

Both Grogar's ignored them as they looked out over their home. The ancient stone city of the Bovidae was surrounded by rolling green hills that turned mountainous to the south and east. In the distance, they could see the tell-tale dust cloud of approaching armies. The plebs below must have seen it as well as panic was in the air. Only the presence of what few soldiers remained kept order in the streets. Present Grogar looked at his doppelganger as the latter reread the ultimatum with a scowl.

"Take her offer, you fool!" The bell ringer pleaded fruitlessly. "You just had to bend the knee for a few years tops until you could build up enough support for independence!"

"Tambelon belongs to the goats." His past self sneered as he crumpled up the parchment and ate it. "I would rather face oblivion than see even one kid submit to that false goddess and her legions of zealots!"

"No." The patchwork ram shook his head in disappointment. "I let pride and hate blind me. How could I not see the other options?"

"Sire?" One of the generals perked up. "What are your orders?"

"You are all dismissed." Grogar said resolutely as he moved quickly to the exit. "Go to your families and loved ones. Flee the city if you can. Knossos should welcome any exiles and refugees."

"W-what?" A council goat stammered as what his lord was implying sank in. "Sire...Gorgar you can't be considering using the Death Knell!"

"History will know that Tambelon refused to submit." The bell ringer said firmly as he exited the room. "Don't try to stop me."

"And none of you did." Present Grogar sneered at his former council. "No wonder we lost."

The two goat lords traveled through the castle keep, passing patroling guards and worried servants along the way. Neither Grogar paid them any mind as they ascended a looming tower to the heart and soul of their kingdom. At the top was the infamous belfry of Tambelon. Bells of all shapes and sizes filled the room with the smaller ones held in carillons while their massive siblings hung alone. A distressed resonating hum greeted the bell ringer as if they sensed the city's encroaching doom.

"From the Equestrians or me?" Present Grogar wondered as his past self approached one of the walls.

The goat lord ran a cloven hoof across the stone until he found a concealed panel and pressed in. The surrounding bells shook as hidden gears and pullies were set into motion. Dust fell to the floor as part of the ceiling slid open and a lone bell was lowered into view. Unlike its bronze, iron and even glass counterparts, this idiophone was made of a solid black metal that none in Tambelon could identity. The other bells fell silent as an unnatural cold filled the belfry. Grogar steeled himself and approached the Death Knell as his present counterpart could only watch with mounting dread and regret.

"Don't do it." The patchwork ram said weakly as he watched himself strike the ominous bell with his own horns.

*GONG*

The first toll deafened the goat lord and blew out every window in the city. Plebs and guards alike were knocked flat as the infrastructure of Tambelon shuddered under unnatural force. In the distance, the first Equestrian scouts froze just outside the borders as a shockwave rolled across the landscape. Even with his head spinning and blood leaking from his ears, the bell ringer prepared for another strike.

*GONG*

The second toll collapsed some of the smaller buildings and set the bell tower into a precarious lean. By this point, panic had enveloped the populace including even the most hardened of guards. Outside the city, trees were uprooted as tremors tore through the hills and the greenery withered and died. At the heart of Tambelon's impending destruction, Grogar struggled to regain his balance. His vision was blurry and he was certain a few bones were broken yet he was determined to finish what he started.

"STOP!" His doppelganger tried in vain to stop himself but the ram charged through him and struck the Death Knell one final time.

*CLANG*

"Gah! Fuck!" Grogar was suddenly and painfully brought back to his harsh reality courtesy of a solid wall of machinery.

"You alright, G?" Zeb asked as the ram clutched his skull in pain. "You looked like you were on another planet there for a bit."

"Just a...ow... just give me a moment." The ram groaned as the stars cleared from his vision. "I got blinded by a face-full of steam. Could not see a thing."

"Ech, that sucks." The zebra grimaced. "Still, you might have made the most progress out of the three of us. Tirek is lost."

“If you know the way feel free to take the lead.” Tirek’s harsh voice cut in as the centaur emerged from a fume-choked corridor. "That way is a dead end and this one just doubles back. We need to get above this maze and get our bearings."

“If we can get above this we might as well travel along the top.” The zebra shrugged. “So should we just look for stairs?"

"No need." The goat lord said confidently. "I just need one of you to give me a boost and I can climb past all this machinery, three legs and all."

"Fine by me." The crimson centaur had no objections as he lowered himself for Grogar to climb onto his back. "Zeb and I will stay put."

Once the cobalt bell ringer was in position, Tirek straightened up and braced against a wall. Even with his handicap, the goat managed to climb up the centaur's shoulders and into the mass of scaffolding and machinery above them. The bard and warlock watched their companion's progress until he disappeared into the haze of industrial fumes. After a few moments of ascending, Grogar breached the metal surface and beheld a vista of the eternal engine. Whirring and churning machines stretched out before him in a level plain. Towering smokestacks and blast furnaces dotted the metal field, spewing soot and cinders into the acrid air. In the distance, barely visible through the choking smog, loomed a veritable monument to industry. The edifice was a mad amalgamation of gears, beams, conduits, pumps and other such devices. At the very top, a hellish red glow underlit a torrent of thick, black smoke that appeared to be the primary source of the polluted atmosphere.

"The other Barons of the Circles lived in looming central structures so that must be the Soul Forge." Grogar thought as he began his climb back down. "Now it's just a matter of getting there."

"Well?" Tirek called out as the ram dropped back into view.

"From where you are standing, turn about forty-five degrees and it will be straight ahead of you." The bell ringer reported before he touched down onto solid ground. "It's still a bit of a trek."

"At least we have a way." Zeb said as he followed the orientation Grogar had provided to find an unexplored corridor. "After you, T."

With their new heading, the trio forged on through the labyrinthine corridors of the Fourth Circle. Fortunately for them, the path they were on deviated little from the goat lord's direction and they made good progress toward their goal. However, this also meant they would have to contend with the increasing presence of the demonic taskmasters as they drew closer to their master's seat of power. The three would often have to duck into side passages or nooks to avoid the mechanical gaze of patroling mech-fiends.

"This hide and seek game is getting old." Tirek grumbled as the trio huddled in hiding as yet another patrol passed. "There has to be a way that avoids all these demons."

"I'd say we could ask one of the workers but they would probably mug us the moment they saw us." Zeb glanced down at the laborers below. "We might have to make due, T."

"Perhaps we could find a slave drive destined for the Forge and slip in." Grogar mused aloud. "But that would probably end with us back in chains or...wait, do you two hear that?"

The centaur and zebra perked up their ears. Barely discernable against the din of demonic machinery was the sound of metal striking flesh, grunts and growls and urgent shouts; the distinct sounds of combat. It could have been a doomed effort of the damned to form a union or the mech-fiends competing for a stray coin.

"Might be worth investigating." The bell ringer suggested. "Unless you want to keep taking chances on this path."

"I vote we take a look." The bard gave his opinion. "At worst it's just a few demons roughing up some sucker but it could be someone else trying to break into the Forge."

"Just be ready to run if it's the former." The warlock cautioned as he moved toward the disturbance. "We've had a lot of close calls when it comes to demons and I'd rather keep our streak going."

The three waited until the coast was clear before moving down the side passage. The sounds of fighting grew louder and louder until they could make out the modulated shouts of mech-fiends and the accented taunts and grunts of their foe. The trio soon came upon a decently sized junction where three of the Fourth Circle's demons had cornered a large and, surprisingly, living griffon. The fiends had cruel whips and well-used bludgeons at the ready while the tiger-hawk kept them at bay with his blood and oils soaked talons.

"Well? Come on then!" The outnumbered hybrid shouted past an unkempt set of muttonchops. "I've already bested two of you blighters, what's three more?"

"Warning: Assault on overseers is punishable by five decades in a sulfur bath." One of the fiends droned. "As stated in tenant 37 section F. Continued resistance will result in immediate-"

"Blast your incessant regulations!" The griffon interrupted harshly. "Have at you!"

The tiger-hawk pounced on the middle demon and the fighting resumed. Despite being outnumbered, he held his own against the enforcers but the trio could tell it was only a matter of time before the tireless fiends wore him down. Tirek shook his head and made to move on.

"He's going to attract more attention." The centaur said urgently. "We should get moving."

"I think we should help him." Zeb countered. "He probably knows this Circle better than us."

"Plus we could use an actual fighter." Grogar added earning incredulous looks from his compatriots. "Hey, two wizards and a bard does not an effective party make."

"If I was at my full power I would argue otherwise." Tirek grumbled. "But you have a point. Alright, let's help the posh bird."

The trio readied themselves just as the griffon managed to sever an arm of one of his foes only to have a whip wrap around his neck. He let out a strangled squawk as the mech-fiend that had ensnared him yanked him to the ground. It was when the other two began beating him relentlessly the three travelers emerged from hiding and charged. Grogar and Zeb went low and high respectively on one while Tirek used his equine half to knock down another with his forehooves and then trample him.

"Alert: Intruders detected in sector 81-B!" The last mech-fiend blared. "All available security to-ERROR!"

The demon got no further as the griffon took advantage of the distraction to cut the whip around his neck. Free of his bind, the tiger-hawk slashed the fiend across its midsection causing a torrent of blood-oil to spill out. The hybrid followed up with a quick flap of his wings that allowed him to drive his hind paws into the sputtering hellion. It was knocked over a railing and disappeared into the mass of churning gears below.

"Well, that's that." The griffon sniffed as he composed himself. "Thank you for the timely intervention...uh..."

The hybrid turned to find while the centaur had managed to dispatch his opponent, the zebra and ram were struggling. They had knocked the mech-fiend down and pinned it but seemed unable to finish it off. The griffon watched their ineffective efforts for a bit before he offered advice.

"The head, chaps." He said helpfully.

"Oh, right." Grogar reared back and headbutted the demon, crumpling its chrome cranium and silencing it at last. "Damn thing was mostly machine; bit tougher than the average."

"Indeed." The tiger-hawk nodded in understanding. "Hmm, quite the trio my rescuers are. To whom do I owe my gratitude?"

"Tirek." The warlock went about introducing them. "The ram is Grogar and the zebra is Zeb."

"A pleasure." The bell ringer greeted as he eye one of the mech-fiend's legs while the bard just gave a simple wave.

"Smashing." The tiger-hawk smiled. "I am Major-general Gordon of His Majesty's Royal Expeditionary Force."

"Well, that's a mouthful, what-what." Grogar briefly imitated Gordon's accent in good humor. "But I think its 'Her Majesty' now."

"Gods save the Queen then." The upper-crust bird corrected. "So what brings you three to this ghastly Circle of the Pits?"

"We are passing through on our way to Pandemonium." Tirek answered. "To that end, we need to get to the Soul Forge."

"Oh, playing Corona's little game, are we?" The tiger-hawk arched an eyebrow. "I thought about dropping in on her to see what's what but I am hesitant to trust anyone with the title 'Infernal Queen of the Nine Hells'."

"Playing for the drummer, MG." Zeb agreed as he watched Grogar tear off a metal leg and check its connections. "But it beats staying here."

"Speaking of, it would be best if we move on." Gordon glanced down a corridor as the sound of rushing metal grew louder. "The mech-fiends are slow to rouse but once they do..."

"Great. More running." Tirek sighed. "Do you know a route to the capitol tower? We've gotten lost too many times."

"As a matter of fact, I do." The Major-general said brightly. "Stick close to me, chaps."

The griffon took off down a corridor at a brisk pace. Tirek and Zeb followed after him with the three-legged Grogar bringing up the rear with his new acquisition. While Gordon did not take them on a direct route, the reason became apparent as alerted demons rushed by on gangways above and below them. Before long, the group came to the outer wall of the Soul Forge itself.

"So this is it." The centaur said as he looked over the towering structure. "Is there a door anywhere?"

"Shipping and receiving are directly below us." Gordon indicated with a talon. "But I advise against it."

The griffon's warning proved warranted. The main point of entry to the seat of power in Greed was heavily guarded by hundreds of mech-fiends backed by hulking creatures of steel and flesh. All of them were overseeing the arrival of raw materials and the departure of their master's newest creations. Even with the combat prowess of their new friend, none of the little group dared take the direct route. There only real option was to scale the outside and look for a window or vent to sneak into.

"Gordon, you think you can find us an opening in that mess?" Tirek asked.

"If there is one." The explorer said as he took to the air. "Back in a pip."

The three ground-bound travelers watch their winged companion as he scanned the exterior for a point of entry. With not much else to do, Grogar returned his attention to the metal limb. It shared the same general shape of a goat's and the interface looked like it would be compatible with his patchwork body. Confident in his assessment, the ram stood the leg up and held his stump over it. As if detecting his intention, cables and wires shot out of the limb and into their new host. The goat lord let out a bleat of surprise as the leg fastened itself to him. Tirek and Zeb made to help him but he held up his forehooves to stop them.

"It's fine! It's fine." Grogar said quickly even as his new limb spasmed wildly. "Just a little troubleshooting to do."

"That was kind of stupid, G." Zeb criticized. "Who knows what that thing could have done to you."

"I'm already an affront to nature in this body." The ram brushed off his concerns as his metal leg calmed down. "Besides, I will need all four limbs to make this climb."

"I'm sure our new Griffish friend would have carried you." Tirek grunted as said griffon returned.

"We're in luck, old bean." Gordon reported. "There is a rusted out vent a short climb from here."

"Good, good." The centaur nodded as he checked for sturdy hand and hoof holds. "Let's get started then."

The ground-bound trio began their climb up the network of exterior pipes and conduits while the griffon spotted for them. Their climb went quickly and uneventfully until they came to the vent Gordon had discovered. Using his hind hooves, Tirek managed to break it down without too much noise and allowed his companions climbed in. After what felt like an eternity crawling through cramped, super-heated duct work, they emerged high above the work floors of the Soul Forge where the smiths could mold the most precious of things into crafts beyond measure, for a price. Dominating the space was a towering two-faced statue. One side was golden, radiant and beautiful while the other was tarnished, withered and decaying.

“That would be Fortune.” Grogar said knowingly. “A generous but fickle mistress.”

“Yeah, those lucky streaks always seem to end at the worst time." Zeb grumbled. "So now that we are here, what next?"

"Look for a hellevator, portal or something that can take us to the Fifth Circle." Tirek answered quietly.

With their objective in mind, the group emerged from the vent and carefully navigated the maze of machinery and industrial tools. As the interlopers worked their way down, the mechanical master of the forge and his accompanying assistants carefully inspected his newest acquisitions. Sorted by height and age, the displaced succubi of the Second Circle stood silently as the Soul Smith recorded details.

“Flawless flesh and supple joints.” The fabricated fiend droned as he scanned over the lithe form of a tall elder succubus. “A perfect specimen. Reserve for special projects.”

“Notice: Handle with care.” One of his sycophantic servitors beeped obediently.

The demonette said nothing as her new master shifted his piercing red eye to the next in line. As much as she wanted to punt his ball bearings through his dome, she was bound to his will thanks to the Infernal Queen. Her eyes wandered around her new home for anything that might help her until they fell upon a familiar zebra climbing down the far wall along with a goat, centaur and griffon.

"Zeb?" The succubus asked aloud.

The bard glanced behind him as he heard his name. The distraction caused him to miss a hoof-hold and slip. Tirek managed to catch him by the scruff of his neck but the sudden shift in weight caused the machine they were on to list forward precariously. The group abandoned stealth as they scrambled to get out from beneath the metal bulk. Their rush turned into an undignified fall as the intruders crashed through machinery and shelves with the now alerted demons watching their progress like a sick pachinko game. The group landed on the metal floor in a tangled mess of limbs, feathers and fur as the machine they had upset teetered on the brink for a few moments before falling back into place.

“Warning: Intruders detected!” A slower drone buzzed. “Deploying defenses!”

“Cancel operation.” It's controller ordered as his creations extended blades, saw, and hammers. “Enter guard mode.”

With an affirmative beep, the demonic machines held their position but kept their weapons at the ready as their creator shuffled over to the intrusive band.

“Welcome to my workshop, Lord Grogar of Tambelon, Lord Tirek of Ixion, Zebulon of Zebrica and...” The Soul Smith paused as his gaze fell on the griffon. “...you.”

"Still holding a grudge, old boy?" Gordon met the demon's glare with a smile. "I returned everything I...procured."

“Forgive our intrusion, Forge Master.” The blue bell ringer immediately turned on the charm before the conversation went too sour. “We were unsure if you were receiving visitors.”

"Not at the moment." The Soul Smith shifted his attention to the goat-lord as his accouterments. "But I would inquire as to why you would go through so much trouble to hold an audience with me."

“We’re just passing through to the Fifth Circle.” Tirek said, keeping an eye on the alerted servitors as he extracted himself from the pile.

“To join Her Infernal Majesty in her exodus, I presume.” The mech-demon droned. "I may be able to expedite your journey."

“After nearly getting killed by all the other Circle Rulers...” Grogar sighed in relief. “…it would be a welcomed change of pace.”

Tirek was not so convinced. There was no such thing as charity in Tartarus, especially in regards to anything that dwelled in the factories Greed. The Soul Smith would have a steep price, he was certain.

“And in return?” The centaur asked cautiously.

The de facto baron of the Fourth Circle shifted his piercing gaze back to the tiny bells around Grogar’s neck. While they were all now tarnished and filthy, anything from Tambelon was worth a fortune to the right demons. He extended a single articulated claw and pointed to the ram’s accoutrements.

“All I ask for is one of your bells.” The covetous contraption droned to Grogar. “No more, no less.”

“One of these?” The fallen lord fiddled with one of the bells in question. “But...”

“I understand they are of great value to you, both in power and sentiment.” The fabricated fiend continued. “So in addition to access to the Fifth Circle, I'll let you keep that leg you seem to have acquired.”

The bell ringer looked from his trinkets to the prosthetic. While he liked being able to move properly again, the idea of parting with a fraction of his power and putting his bodily integrity into the claws of the Soul Smith made his skin itch. Still, if it meant getting them to Pandemonium faster, he could survive without one of his bells for the time being. There were ways for him to get them back. He unfastened a small one and held it out for the mech-demon, giving it a light jingle for effect.

*Ting-ting*

“Deal.” He said with a forced smile. “Please take care of it.”

With a confirmatory beep, the mech-demon snatched up the faintly glowing bauble and transmitted orders to his ever-ready minions. The servators moved toward the central statue and got to work calibrating and aligning strange technology. As they worked, the rest of the group composed themselves once it was clear they were no longer in danger.

“I noticed he didn’t demand anything from the rest of us.” Tirek muttered as the Soul Smith stored his newest treasure. “Not that we have much.”

“You used to have some sort of gold medallion.” Grogar recalled. “What happened to that?”

A murderous glare from the red centaur told the ram that it would be in his best interest not to talk about his lost memento. The fallen lord quickly looked away and cleared his throat.

"So, uh, Gordon." The bell ringer quickly changed subjects. "Thank you for getting us this far. Is this where we part company?"

"Actually, I think I will join you on your expedition if you will have me." The griffon said after he mulled it over. "The promise of egress is tempting, even more so now that I won't have to face the perils of the deeper Circles alone."

"The more, the merrier." Zeb concurred.

“You've been helpful so far.” Tirek commented dryly. “Just don't make us regret it.”

"On my honor as an officer of His...Her Majesty's Empire, I will not." Gordon snapped a crisp salute as the Soul Smith shuffled back to the group. "Good news, chrome-dome. I will be accompanying these fine fellows on their trip."

“Good riddance.” The demon droned. “The device is ready. Just prostrate yourselves before Fortune and she will deliver you to the next Circle unspoiled.”

Following the Soul Smith’s instructions, the group moved over to the looming statue. They stood upon a circular platform engraved with various runes and symbols and waited. While three of them dropped a knee as told, Tirek just folded his arms and sneered up at Fortune as if daring her to strike him down. To his surprise, the eyes of the statue ignited along with the glyphs on the ground as if to meet his challenge. The four of them floated into the air as eldritch energy crackled around them. The hands of the statue became animated and cupped around the travelers. The forge began to tremble as strange energy tore open a way to the Fifth Circle, sending loose objects and unaware servitors crashing to the ground until, with a blinding flash and crack of thunder, the two sorcerers, bard and explorer vanished from the Fourth Circle.

“Hmm, the teleporter needs a tune up.” The mechanical monster observed after the commotion had passed and the statue went dormant. “Those tremors were far beyond acceptable levels.”

“Reminder: Recalibrate teleporter.” An ever obedient servitor droned. “Observation: The cost of one taskmaster leg plus the use of the teleporter exceed the net worth of one Tambelonian bell.”

“Normally, yes.” The Soul Smith clicked knowingly as he returned his attention to the now awed succubi. “But imagine, if you still can, the power the old goat has put into it. We cannot accurately put a price on it until we have learned more but I trust this will pay dividends in the future.”