#once again lae'zel the unlikely voice of reason while rakha goes off the rails XD

[blackjackkent]

Took longer than expected, but we finally have the camp houseguest I was expecting when Alfira showed up.

It has been a relatively quiet night in camp. Rakha has been keeping to herself, as usual, listening in silence to the banter among the others - but she notices at once when Wyll sits up, his head cocked liked a dog scenting something on the wind. And she registers the look of absolute terror that crosses his face.

"Hellsfire. She's coming."

The portal bursts open in the center of camp without warning, a roiling mass of flame and brimstone. Rakha is on her feet instantly, her own fire magic curling around her hands.

Interloper. Intruder. Danger. Kill--

Wyll has a hand out, trying to press her back, to stop her from attacking. With significant effort, she pulls herself to a stop, both fists clenched and flaming at her sides. And she watches as the portal disgorges a tall, lithe, beautiful humanoid-looking woman.

Horned. Winged. Not a teeth-ling, not quite, but something similar. And supremely confident in herself. The woman ignores Rakha completely, settles into a comfortable contrapposto stance, and smirks at Wyll unpleasantly.

"Wyll," she purrs. "You've been naughty. And you know what happens when you're naughty."

"Gods damn it," Rakha hears Karlach growl. "Anyone but her."

Rakha's jaw is tightly clenched, her eyes fixed on the stranger. The last time an unexpected face entered their camp, it ended badly - and she can feel the tension zinging between her companions. Karlach knows this woman, it seems - and dislikes her. Someone from Avernus, presumably. If not teeth-ling, then devil.

And she knows Wyll. She is, Rakha can assume, the source of his abandoned vendetta against Karlach (and, based on some comments Gale has made in passing, likely the source of his strange magic as well).

But most immediately, she is an interloper and a threat, and it is half the beast that speaks when she snarls out the words, "Godsdamned devil. Get out of my camp!"

If the woman is troubled by the threat in Rakha's voice, she doesn't show it. "Now?" she says, with a mock-innocence that fools no one. "But I'm just getting comfy." She smiles coolly. "Call me Mizora. I'm Wyll's patron, the fount of his power. My pet's been unruly... and his leash needs a *yank*."

On the final word, she snaps out a hand and Wyll clutches a hand to his throat as he is pulled by an unseen force almost off his feet. He cries out with sudden pain, gasps for air.

"We had a deal, Wyll," Mizora says icily. "But Karlach's still breathing."

"I've taken more pleasant shits than you, Mizora," Karlach snaps. She's keeping her distance, hunched into a fight-or-flight stance, her face twisted from its usual good humor into pure rage. "And at least those can be buried after."

Mizora clicks her tongue. "That's no kind of talk for a lady. By the way, Karlach - Zariel sends her regards."

Karlach's scowl deepens. Wyll rasps out, "You told me devils only. She's a tiefling... not a monster..." His voice sounds terribly strained; his legs are trembling with lack of air.

Mizora smiles. "How precious. The little pupster's found his bark. Clause G, Section Nine - Targets shall be limited to the infernal, the demonic, the heartless, and the soulless. Karlach meets the criteria, pet. Trust me on this."

Rakha's eyes flick around the group rapidly, parsing out what she can of this latest in the long series of bewildering conversations that is her life. Wyll, it seems, has been tricked, and Mizora now come to collect when he refused to carry out the stated mission. She wants him hurt and Karlach dead.

That, Rakha thinks with some relish, isn't going to stand.

"I've heard enough," she says sharply. "You're not leaving this place alive."

She has a hand up, ready to strike-- and she isn't sure what stops her. It might be magic, something emanating from Mizora's fist... or it might be Wyll's choked cry of dismay, wordless. Either way, the blow never lands.

"Kill me?" the devil says, as casually as if she were talking about the weather. "I wouldn't recommend it. I die, and Wyll turns to a lemure and gets sucked right down to the Hells." She pauses, then smirks. "Which reminds me..."

Another burst of hellish light; Rakha staggers backwards from the flare of heat that goes with it... as it rises around Wyll and swallows him.

Narrator: Wyll burns in the fires of Avernus. The lightning storms of Dis strike his flesh. His soul passes through each layer of the Hells, gaining their essence - and their torment.

Rakha does not know what is going on, what this flash of light implies or what Mizora is doing. But she knows that Wyll is screaming in pain and Karlach howling in fury and fear. She hears Lae'zel curse from behind her, the sound of a blade being half-drawn, held in uncertainty.

She's almost on the point of ignoring the whole lemure business and hurling herself at the devil anyway, of getting her hands around the woman's throat and beginning to squeeze-- when the flames ease. The light dies, revealing Wyll standing there, breathing hard, seemingly unharmed.

Unharmed but changed.

Two long curved horns now curl out of Wyll's head. His neck and arms show a harsh, grooved texturing to match the scars that line his face. His good eye has gone a deep, blood-red.

He is no longer human. He is a devil, like Mizora. A devil like those he has hunted.

"That's better," Mizora says brightly.

"What the hells have you done?" he cries, anguished.

"A promise broken, a price paid," she says airily. "You knew the terms. Get used to the new form, pet. There's no going back. Some magic, even I can't undo. Now, let's see how the Frontiers fare without their precious Blade."

Rakha's vision goes white around the edges. For the first time that she can remember since waking up, she feels a flash of deep rage on the behalf of someone other than herself. The beast is roaring in her head and she wants Mizora's blood on her hands. She wants the devil lying as Alfira did, in a sigil of blood next to the sigil of fire where Wyll burned.

Mizora turns and looks directly at Rakha and gives her a slow, sly smile. "Karlach," she says, without looking away from the half-orc. "Keep an eye on him, would you? I'll be keeping mine on you. Oh, and Wyll-- don't forget. Our pact still stands. Ta-ta!"

And she vanishes, just as Rakha's hands are about to close around her neck.

-----

Rakha misses her footing as her target vanishes and slams heavily into the opposite wall of the cave. Her jaw works and she explodes into a roar of anger, slamming her fist into the stone and sending a jolt of pain up her arm. "Damn it!" she snarls.

But the sting of pain clears her mind a little. Mizora is gone. The moment has passed. The beast whines in agitation. There is no blood to be had...

Wyll and Karlach have both disappeared back to their tents. Lae'zel stands watching Rakha's temper tantrum with an unimpressed expression. "Did you not hear the devil?" she asks. "To injure her would be to condemn Wyll. What purpose does this display serve?"

"Vengeance," Rakha growls hoarsely. "She mocks him. Mocks us all."

Lae'zel lets out a heavy breath. "So she does," she agrees. "But the devil is gone, for now. See that you calm yourself. We will not have a repeat of last night, if I have to knock you senseless to ensure it."