Stuck in their disgusting cells deep in the 7th layer of the Nine Hells, the party were victimized repeatedly by their imp watchers, Baazel and Dwaazel, whose idea of humor generally involved spreading pain or filth to the group.
Eventually, though, trial day arrived. Before going out to face the Herald of Lies in front of a tribunal, the party entertained final offers from devils looking to ensnare them in deals. They eventually signed a contract with Bobek, the bloated Paeliryon representing Glasya.
As terms of the deal, the group were released from their cells and got their equipment back. Bobek also summoned Aalagabol, the Infernal Armorer, to provide them with powerful weapons of hellish manufacture. These Infernal Arms would assist the adventurers in fulfilling their terms of the deal: They must deliver 64 souls to Glasya’s service.
The final obligation Bobek took on as part of the contract was to bring the group to her “lady’s realm,” which she did, taking them through a portal to the next layer of Baator, Malbolge, then promptly abandoning them to their own devices at the processing plant at the Lakes of Bile.
Standing about in confusion, the party watched the Nupperibos at their tasks, gathering the disgusting fluids of the exploded hag Malagarde for processing.
After a bit of a wait, though, another Hellish emissary appeared – an armored Narzugon mounted on a Nightmare. This creature announced the group now owed fealty to Lord Levistus, and was to follow it through another portal – which they did.
Emerging into the frigid wastes of Stygia, the group was greeted by a pompous Amnizu functionary. This fiend checked their papers, and ushered them into a long line to a processing station for incoming beings. Ice Devils, White Abishai, Spinagons, some liches, and even a white dragon were in line with them.
Eventually, after nine long hours of waiting, they got to the front of the line. Here they got to enjoy smoke being blown in their face by more amnizu functionaries. After filling out the reams of forms and ensuring their papers were in order, finally they were led through the checkpoint.
Back outside, the Narzugon escorted them to an iceberg barge with a Marraenaloth pilot before leaving to pursue its other duties. The iceberg set off down the Styx, but soon departed for the rushing waters through a hidden tributary to a calm, endless iceberg sea.
Time stretched and lost all meaning during the voyage over this endless icy waste, with no landmarks and no cycle of sun or moon to mark progress. After hours? Days? Weeks? The monotony was broken by the sight of flyers in the distance. More White Abishai.
This signalled the approach of their goal, a mountainous iceberg surrounded by a fleet of smaller bergs. Veritable legions of Gelugons attacked this ice with all the fury of battle, wielding long spears, pickaxes, and their own steel-hard claws. Chips of ice flew away from the iceberg so thick as to seem like falling sleet, yet the ice grew even faster, forcing the ice devils backward even as the party watched.
Walking to the massive berg, the party barely noticed the Gelugons making a path for them. The ice of this titanic block was unusually clear, allowing them to see deep below the surface of the water. They saw a man there.
A man of giant proportions, perhaps, but a man was what he looked like. Swept back black hair, patrician features, an immaculate formal suit, and glowing red eyes staring right at them meant this could only be Levistus – the Archduke of Stygia himself!
Levistus told the group he purchased their soul debt from Glasya to bring them here that they might do something for him. In exchange he will allow them safe passage. They are to secure the Orb of UulSharaVas from Abriymoch, on Phlegethos, and return it to him. Then, he will have the same Marraenaloth that brought them here drop them back off in Abriymoch with no additional obligation for the transportation services already provided.
With no great options in front of them, the party agreed, and climbed back on to their berg barge to head to Phlegethos.
Mick On Everything 