"Doesn't look like it." The demon frowns at Eben. "Ugh. Get out of my way; I'm looking for some important people. I'm not exactly eager to start making messes, but..." It waves its arms intimidatingly. "Alright, people! Six seconds before people start dying! Get moving!" It kicks the giant spider again. The spider doesn't react. "C'mon! Get that pea-sized construct brain up and running again! What are you looking at them for? Just a bunch of dirty peasants!"
"Who are you looking for? Maybe we can point you in the right direction", Tanith offers helpfully.
"I said, move!"
"Hm. Wait a second." The quasit seems to reconsider. "Okay. Actually, maybe you can help. All these mortals basically look alike to me, but you may have met them. Looking for six humanoids. Blue-skinned chick, big muscle guy with terrible facial hair, two extremely handsome men, one less handsome man, half-orc. These are super powerful, 'do not approach'-type creatures. Really good at killing drow. Seen them?"
It glances down at the spider, which is still staring at the party—and Tanith in particular. "I think they gave me a defective retriever," it mutters. "Unless..."
It blinks. It looks between the spider and Tanith. "Huh."
"Two handsome men? Tell us more, which one of the two would you say was handsomer?"
"You know..." the quasit murmurs, "this creature's supposed to take me right to those six people." It looks up, eyes glittering, at the six-person party. "And it seems to be pointed right at you."
"And frankly, it's disappointing for you to not have noticed that before now." Carina sighs.
"What do you want from us?"
Probably an asskicking. And even if that's not what he's here for, it's what he'll get.
"Don't be a smartass. Your insignificant vagrant disguises are very convincing." The quasit crosses its arms. "So. Here you are. Well, then."
It leaps off the spider's head and flies over, its wings beating in a blur behind it, propelling it forward. It hovers in place before Carina. "Name's Niniane. We, uh, met prior. You killed my drow and sent me back home." It swerves to either side. "Thanks for that, by the way. The promotion wasn't quite what I was hoping for..." It gestures to its form, which, aside from being almost human-sized now, looks mostly identical. "...But it's a stepping-off point. Anyways, I still owe you that favor, so I'm here to tell you something."
Carina folds her arms. "And that something is?"
"You recently acquired something." The quasit grins, showing off numerous long, sharp teeth. "Something very special. As it happens, it's part of a set, right?" The quasit shrugs. "We hear stuff down where we are, but there's always interference. Especially where ugly little toys like that one are concerned.
"Well, the hot word is, there's a greasy lady who's recently come into possession of another piece of that set. She's very keen on completing it. This lady's a pit fiend by the name of Visciannix." It grimaces. "Very big deal up there in Baator. A few of her boys dropped in about a night ago, by Oerth's orbital reckoning, I mean, and they're headed for the tomb of Icosiol now. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd already made it in and found out that their precious 'Fate' is playing both sides of the street."
Niniane continues weaving back and forth, seeming delighted with itself. "Pretty interesting, don't you think? Whoever has the piece they're after might be in for a thorny situation pretty soon."
Clunk leans in next to Astraden. Its voice is tainted by human anger, though that may be a consequence of its current form. "This creature is a servant of the Abyss," it hisses. "Thousands of years ago, Abyssal monstrosities were the chief warriors of the Queen of Chaos. To be blunt, I would sooner slay such an abomination than hear one word of its counsel."
Rodrigo floats silently above the others, assuming that the big spider thing can probably see him, but not wanting to break his stealth just in case he's wrong.
What does he mean by thorny? Is there a demon king or queen of thorns?
Eben glances aside at Clunk's human-form. "Oh, really? Because just yesterday you seemed perfectly fine with sharing tomb-guarding duties with a servant of the Abyss that was made out of eyeballs..." He reverts his attention to Niniane. "So that's the whole reason you're here? You rented a spider demon mount, plane hopped, and came looking for us to give us that warning?" He shrugs. "Okay, thanks. Debt repaid."
Clunk grimaces. "Those demons and oozes were captured and bound enemies, forced to endure eternal servitude in punishment for their crimes. It is...very different."
The quasit ignores this brief exchange. "Really? You aren't going to...okay, whatever." It shrugs. "But I'm just warning you—mind that little trinket of yours. It's a dangerous item, especially for who's going to want it. If you heed any advice from this tanar'ri, I'd suggest you take good care of that thing. Don't be too quick to pawn it off, y'know?"
The quasit waits a moment, then awkwardly starts directing the giant spider demon to turn around. When it is finally done doing so, the spider rears up and skitters off back into the fog.
Tanith joins Eben in scoffing at Clunk's sudden alignment-bigotry.
"His advice seemed harmless enough. If he was here to kill or trick us there's a lot better ways to do it. Like horrible those square beams of yours..."
The hooded person scowls. "That is a fair and equal exchange of life force. I don't see the comparison."
"Which isn't consensual."
"It is a nonstandard contract, yes."
"Clunk! Aren't you past this whole 'destroy all agents of chaos' thing? Niniane's just here to give us a cool tip. Not to start a war all over again." Astraden lets the mirage drop and looks up at the quasit. "Any idea what these boys look like? Also, while I've got you here . . . Any chance you'd know someone interested in a box of rare metals and shit - what your old master carried around? I might want a servitor for one of these missions, one of these days."
"Oooh." The quasit considers it as it turns to leave. "I forgot she had that. That's a choice catch. Sure, there's Amithariol. Dretch berserker. Big guy, tiny brain, likes trying to tear off things' wings." Niniane shudders slightly. "Brandr and Nechemyah you met—Brandr's a big goaty fire critter called a 'mehrim', and Nechemyah's a little fire-breathing brimorak. Lots of fire. Oh, you also met Bielsebub (no relation, spelled with an 'i' and an 's'), that vescavor swarm. Biels is hard to manage, though. Trust me.
"And my name's Niniane, of course. Look me up if you want more names or more handy advice! Niniane: Always open to deal! That'll be my motto, if I ever get to a position where I'm allowed to have those."
"Oh, hey, I killed the brimorak!" Eben says brightly. "Er. Not that you should mention that as a selling point if you ever summon him. Which you probably shouldn't do anyway, because if you remember, the drow got her soul dragged to the Abyss for dealing with demons..."
"Yeah, but she was a priestess of an demon goddess, and she had way more than one demon. And she had a bunch of undead for some reason. Do you see me with undead? No. My soul is safe."
"Anyway, what hurts pit fiends? I've got a few cold iron and a few mithral arrows left." He frowns, counting them up. "Not as many as I'd like of either. There's got to be a cheaper way to have a versatile quiver. Hey, Carina, I've heard of alchemical stuff that mimics exotic metals for weapons. You have any idea how to whip something like that up?"
"Anyway, what hurts pit fiends? I've got a few cold iron and a few mithral arrows left." He frowns, counting them up. "Not as many as I'd like of either. There's got to be a cheaper way to have a versatile quiver. Hey, Carina, I've heard of alchemical stuff that mimics exotic metals for weapons. You have any idea how to whip something like that up?"
"What, like weapon blanch?" Carina grins. "I imagine that sort of thing will be child's play for me by now."
Farrukh crawls out from his hiding place and gives Ninianea little wave.
"Look I'm all for using whatever resources we have at our disposal, but dealing with demons? That seems like an incredibly bad idea. Summoning them, maybe, since they disappear quick. But long term?"
"Good. We'll talk about it some more when we get to Magepoint and I can buy ingredients for you..." Then, he tosses another question at the departing quasit. "Hey, one more thing. Any chance you were scrying on us in Icosiol's Tomb?"
"I didn't have to," Niniane says, clanging a hand on the spider's head. "This baby senses your location for me. It could've been the devils, though I think they've been mostly scouting for the rod piece until now. Now that they know someone took it, though...that may change."
"It wouldn't be that long term, Farrukh. At most, a day and a half."
Astraden turns around and starts trudging northwards. "Devils. Not good news."
The group circles around and journeys back north. Along the way, the party drops by Astraden's house, where a crew of builders are hard at work. Two of them seem to still be trying to get owlbear and rogue blood out of the floor. The workers glance over, recognizing Astraden. Rillikandren rushes out, hugging her and expressing his relief that she's alright. He heard about what happened in Greyhawk.
Rillikandren seems a little bit frightened of the rest of the party, but also grateful that Astraden has found a "better crowd than the last" to hang out with. As Astraden leaves, he offers one final word of advice:
"I've been asking after Brummis and Svenser. I'm not sure where that whole...troupe has gone, but it hasn't been seen locally in months. It gives me the heebjeebs. Good luck, Astraden. And, uh...Happy Birthday."
It is the next day, and the group has just passed the Twilight Monastery. Nobody greeted them as they went by. As the Monastery slowly becomes a mere speck in the distance, some of the members of Spiny's Six notice something.
Everybody except Rodrigo and Tanith notice a shimmering in the air. It looks like another scrying sensor.
Clunk looks up, spots it, and turns invisible.
"Another sensor. Can anyone trace where that's coming from?"
"Looks like that's a simple scrying sensor. Not the more powerful one from back in the Tomb..."
"I'm not usually one to mind an audience but there's got to be something we can do to keep whoever's sending those things from spying on us."
Rodrigo turns around and moons the sensor, waving his pale behind at it until get gets bored.
"Maybe that will discourage them. Though with my gams, maybe we just started Oerth's first live pornographic stream.....hey Eben, I just got another business idea!"
Carina facepalms again.
"Well, count me out of it."
"But you'd be great with the plebs!" Rodrigo replies. "And didn't you and Tanith already do it in front of an entire tournament worth of gladiators? This time you'd get paid."
"He has a point, it's not like you're modest."
Carina's face turns a deep blue. "That only happened ONCE, dammit!"
Tanith smirks and puts a protective arm around Carina's shoulders. "Don't listen to them Red."
Carina folds her arms and leans into Tanith. "Hmph." She pouts.
Rodrigo just chuckles. "Have it your way."
"Guys. We've probably got incoming." Eben says, hand reaching towards his metamagic rod again, not at all rolling along with the air of general levity.
"We'll kill that bridge when we come to it."
Rodrigo stifles himself and nods. He casts a spell to make himself invisible, and flies up a bit off the ground.
"Thanks bro," Astraden says, giving him a handclasp-hug. "Don't be too zealous about the blood, by the way. I think it adds 'character.'"
The priestess leaves a small bonus for the workers - a dozen platinum pieces, with encouragement to use a bit of it on having a good time.
After camping for the night, she prays for a new set of spells.
Astraden squints at the shimmering. "Damn wizards!"
Carina starts chugging her mutagen and downing extracts: her usual shield and false life.
She hands off her remaining extracts of shield & false life to whoever needs them.