When the fallen archon’s oath was sworn we retired to my private study, with my friends joining us. After all, Sanvi had information that would be of use to all of us. Even if it was just a list of the numbers and talents of the ones who’d be coming to face us.

Sitting in my favorite chair, I turned to look at the others. “Siora, Vestele, Fartooth,” I said, nodding to each in turn, “this is Sanvi Chaosborn, an archon who has forsaken her prior allegiance and sworn her service to me. It seems that the events of Tormfall are beginning to catch up to us.”

Siora nodded, and said, “Yes, we were watching from the balcony above when you had your audience. Even if we hadn’t been, that little rush of power would have caught our attention. I’ve seen fallen celestials before, but never have I watched it happen in person!”

Vestele smiled warmly. “As my sister said, such things are known to us, but they are rare events, and seeing the moment of a fall in person is something that few can claim to have witnessed, across all the planes. Though I do wonder how you kept the change from being noticed until that moment?”

Sanvi smiled wryly. “The intent, the wish to fall is not enough. I had to swear it, openly, and in front of witnesses, to achieve the effect. That, or I would have had to do some act of evil, or some offense against order, great enough that the powers of the cosmos would have no choice but to see it as a fall. Even then, such an act would not have severed the bond between myself and my father, Abyss take his soul. But now, I am free of the higher planes, and am no different than a creature native to the Material Plane.”

Fartooth nodded. “And that bond was more than just words, wasn’t it? That is why the collar and bracers shattered when you made your oath.”

“Yes,” the fallen archon said, sadly. “That was how my ‘dear husband’ kept track of me. They were enchanted so that I could never strike him, or disobey his orders. They also served as a beacon, allowing him to teleport to my side if he concentrated.”

I leaned forward. “If they prevented you from going against his commands, how did you escape their hold? Surely, he would have ordered against that?”

“Hah!” Sanvi laughed. “No, the idea never even crossed his mind. He considered me trapped, since I had nowhere to go. Who would take me in, after all, when I was sullied and defiled? The creatures of Law do not care about whether or not I had a choice in the matter. By their reasoning, I should have ended my own life, rather than submit, and, because I chose not to die, I am as much to blame as my father for the taint I bear. That is just one of the things that drove me from their side.”

“Ugh,” I shook my head in disgust. “That kind of thinking has caused more harm than any half-mad necromancer ever has. I know all too well the feeling of being trapped in a situation like that. Though I can’t say whether it is better or worse that no children resulted from it, and I lost the ability to have them in the future. At the time, it broke me, but, without that, I would never have been able to take the actions that led to me being reborn into this world, where I have had far more good experiences than bad.”

“And you have little Rogdun, as well,” Siora chimed in.

I smiled at her. “Yes, that is true. I do have a child, this time, and I have a kingdom that, at least, respects me, and the work I’ve done so far. They may not love me, and the harshness with which I rule, but simply having even the poorest being assured a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, even if it is that flavorless gruel, is enough to make them hold their heads a bit higher, and appreciate my reign.”

“Indeed,” Fartooth chirped. “Even with the ‘monster’ races in the mix, the people are content. And the army you built is both capable, and learning to control their impulses and bloodlust, which is impressive, given that they are all from different tribes, and would normally have just rampaged and pillaged everything.”

“That is because I promised them something more than just a rampage, and a kingdom of brutal subjugation. That kind of campaign would have united the people against us, and made it easier for outside forces to strike, as too much of the army would be turned towards maintaining a death grip on the population, and that atmosphere breeds infighting and betrayal. It is what kept the tribes of my homeland from ever amounting to anything.

“Instead, I purged the ranks of those who would betray me, and gave the rest a dream to follow. I gave them the dream of being something more than the brutes they are seen as, of being an actual country, and getting the respect of other peoples. Even if the respect was grudging, and tinged with anger, it is still respect, and that carries a good deal of weight with those on the fringes of ‘civilization’.”

I sighed, and shook my head. “But enough of that. Sanvi, what abilities do you have, especially now that you are fallen? And what of your former husband and the rest of his followers? What numbers do they have, and what are their strengths, and weaknesses? Tell me everything!”

Sanvi nodded. “Then, I will start with my sister, Araqiel, and her daughter, Iahhel. Both are trumpet archons, as I was. They are both actually in love with my father, and are happy to serve him in any way he desires, like the rest of his harem. For which I was always thankful, because it took attention away from me, and gave him less time to try force me to bear another of his children.”

She sighed, and said, “Araqiel is a skilled combatant, using the fighting style of the Swashbuckler, rather than a normal fighter. She has refined this further, to the point where she dances with her blade like a dervish, cutting through enemies as though they were not there. While not having the technical skill of our father, she is a skilled fighter and deadly combatant all the same.

“Iahhel, her daughter, is different from the mother, however. She has all but foregone martial training, save what is expected of all archons, and instead focused on her faith. This, in addition to the power granted by her innate abilities, means that she is an incredibly potent cleric, capable of feats that no mortal follower of the gods would ever be able to match.”

“Zophiel is a Hound Archon, lesser in stature than a trumpet archon, perhaps, but she makes up for it with tenacity. She is trained as a ranger, and is the best tracker out of the group. Once she is on the scent, there is no shaking her, save through using magic to teleport away, or move across the planes. Her weapon of choice is the bow, but she is also skilled with the blade.

“Mumiel, her daughter, is also a hound archon. Unlike her mother, she is more intellectual in her dogged pursuits, though she focuses more on rare tidbits of lore than live prey. She is a wizard of the highest caliber, and facing her when she has had a chance to prepare for the encounter is simply begging to visit your gods in the afterlife. Her specialization is in transmutation magics, but she knows more than a few conjuration magics, as well, so she can summon allies to the fray, quite easily. They may not be able to stand up to your assaults, but they will force you to expend resources and waste time, unless she uses her transmutations to augment them, making them far more deadly than before.

“Zarall is the son of Zophiel, and also a hound archon. However, while he is a man, he is still dominated by our father, to the point where he dresses as a woman, and speaks as one, even when he is not servicing him. His combat abilities may be limited, but Zarall is a bard, and his ability to perform rivals many of the greats, on any plane. With that comes the ability to support others in the fight, making him a threat that scales depending on how many allies he has near.”

Sanvi took a breath, and then said, “And then, there are the Solars. Angels from the higher planes. Three of them, in fact. They are, perhaps, some of the strongest combatants in the group.

“Haziel is the eldest of the three, and mother to the other two, with my father being the sire. She is equally skilled with both blade and bow, making her a potent threat that cannot be overlooked. Her weapons have been further enchanted from the base versions that any Solar might have, yet they still retain their innate magic, such as the bow creating arrows of slaying with each draw of the string, always the bane of her target.

“Anael is eldest of the daughters. She actually forsakes the normal weapons of her kind, as a rule, instead favoring a pair of short swords. As a rogue of terrible skill and trained in dual-wielding her blades, to say nothing of her abilities at stealth, she often announces her presence to her enemies with sudden fountains of blood spraying from the falling corpses of their friends.

“Theliel, on the other hand, is the strangest of the lot, in my opinion. She does not practice with blade or spell, but instead has learned the arts of the artificer, though how she gained the knowledge or training in those arts I do not know. Though it probably involved venturing to other planes, and either studying there, or abducting a tutor to teach her.”

The archon grit her teeth, and took a deep breath, before saying, “And last amongst your hunters is my father, Zadkiel. Known as the Divine Blade, his title is not an idle boast. The last time you fought him, and humbled him, he was restricted in his abilities, as Tyr forbade him from using more than his inborn talent and spells whilst on the material plane, and made him wear a band of to restrain his power severely. This restriction cost him an eye, and left him scars which Tyr made permanent when he returned in failure. That is part of the reason why Zadkiel left Tyr’s service.

“My father is arrogant, and certain of his ‘right’ to do as he wishes, but he is powerful. Powerful enough to back up his claims. He is not the equal of a god, certainly, but, if it were to come to blows, the contest between him and a god would not be entirely one-sided. At the very least, he could be assured of drawing blood, and wounding the god more than a typical mortal could ever hope to accomplish.”

“And, last amongst those that came to this plane on Torm’s command, there is myself, Sanvi, formerly Daughter-Wife of Zadkiel, and now Sanvi Chaosborn. I am a Sorceress of great power, in addition to the divine spells which I can still cast and my inborn powers. I am recognized in the higher planes as both an archmage and a Fatespinner, one who can push the forces of chance to favor me, or damn my foes. And, most importantly, I have learned the secrets of casting spells beyond the nine levels that mortals are capable of reaching.”

“The tenth level of spells!” Siora exclaimed. “Those have been cut off from all but the gods since the time of the great Mage-Kings of Noranoch, when, in their hubris, they tried to take the powers of Mystra for themselves, and, thus, doomed their entire civilization. Since then, the goddess of magic has made it impossible for any to reach such heights!”

“Yes,” Sanvi nodded, clearly pleased that someone knew the story. “And that restriction holds, even on me. But if one delves deeply enough into their spellcraft, there are ways to replicate those ancient spells, though they are no longer so cheap, or easy, as simply casting a spell. However, the power offered by the spells is almost always worth the cost.”

“Please, Sanvi,” I said. “Tell us more.”