Herzog Tanar'ri wrote:
Herzog Tanar'ri is a striking specimen as a Cambion. Under his crimson cowl can be seen viper-like strands of hair, forked tongue, and serpentine eyes indicative of the son of a Marilith. Yet his mother-marilith was apparently more than any wandering Type-V Abyssal monstrocity. Herzog Tanar'ri is clearly an albino with waxy white skin and, even more revealing, the seams and ends of his scarlet shroud seem to shed yellow light, bright light. No doubt, Herzog Tanar'ri is the Cambion offspring of a Marilith Avatar of none other than Pale Night herself -- Mother of Graz'zt and Lamashtu and among the most ancient entities of The Abyss, predating The Fall of Asmodeus, Baalzebub, Mammon and the Arch Devils to Hell.
Probably some time on Freeday the 7th of Flocktime ....
Herzog Tanar'ri admires his handiwork in front of a polished silver-and-glass mirror he recently installed in the secret warehouse in Nulbish. The disguise was disturbingly convincing, even to close scrutiny. For all intents and purposes, he would be identified as a Pitspawn (or Demon-Born) Cambion (even foiling divination spells!) .... And to those learned in the occluded and arcane mysteries of the Lower Planes -- specifically the primordial Age Before Ages, the mythical Anteruinam Archangelorum ("Time Before the Fall of the Archangels") (as the ancient Oerid chronicler Emokras the Elder of the Aerdi Tribe coined the phrase, circa 120 BCY) -- Herzog's resemblance to a Pitspawn Cambion spawned among the brood of Pale Night would be uncanny and undeniable ....
Suddenly, a funnel-shaped plume of black smoke or mist seems to seep up from between the old flood-warped planks of the safe-house floor, only perhaps 15 feet away from Herzog Tanar'ri, billowing up to coalesce into a solid form -- a form that seems alarmingly familiar, even if he'd only ever seen various artistic depictions in woodcuts, grimoires, illuminated manuscripts, and fanciful tapestries!
Fully materialized, the fiendishly handsome devil before you has clearly assumed a shape and apparel that would be less imposing than his natural form, for though his presence seems larger than a storm giant's, he stands no taller than six feet, with a physique more akin to that of a sage or wizard than a warrior (though an incredibly ornate rapier with a gold wire filagree-wrapped basket hilt and large fire opal pommel hangs in an onyx-encrusted scabbard of some kind of scarlet hide from his gold-plated leather girdle). A black-and-white chessboard-pattered double-liripipe frames his handsome but fiendish red face, and a black forked goatee wags at his chin as he gives voice to a melodious (yet feral) chuckle. In one ring-bedecked claw, the archfiend grasps a sphere of dark crystal or glass in which crimson swirls seem to spin endlessly; in the other bejeweled claw, he holds a scepter or rod of ruddy wrought gold, inset with several bloodstones, and capped by a great, fiery dodecahedron the size of a man's clenched fist, flawlessly cut from appears to be a huge ruby. A waft of not-entirely-unpleasant fragrance, like rare and exotic incense (mingled with an undertone of sulfur and burning flesh), reaches you even 15 feet away ....
Orsino Ivid VIII of House Naelax has never been at loss for words for longer than a second or two, but Herzog Tanar'ri's forked serpent's tongue momentarily feels as if it were cast from lead .... The archdevil speaks in voice that is both compelling and somehow agreeable, like the sound of a skillfully-played flute or pipe organ: "I'm sure we've never met before, but I'll be damned -- all over again! Hahaha! -- if you don't seem strangely familiar .... Like someone else I've become acquainted with ...." Without seeming to stride forward at all, the archdevil is suddenly only 5 feet away from the stunned investigator/wizard, and begins to circle the awestruck Herzog Tanar'ri in a counterclockwise circuit .... "Well, I'll admit, your .... unfortunate .... disguise does remind of an Age even before the Oerth came into being .... But really, noble stranger? Why so lowly and despicable a visage? Why not something beautiful, like a comely and sophisticated Hellspawn Cambion?? .... I mean no offense, noble stranger, but .... you seem like one well-versed in the Lower Planes, if I'm not mistaken, so .... you really ought to know how silly demons and their spawn are. But, I digress. I did not come here to chide you on your questionable taste .... Actually, I didn't come here to see you at all .... I was just certain that you were .... someone else ...."
The archdevil's black lips curl back in a feral grin, baring sharp canines and incisors as white as pearl as he sniggers condescendingly at Herzog Tanar'ri, who is finally beginning to feel his initial shock wear off, and his forked tongue limbering up for speech .... But before he can utter a word, the Lord of Cania declares: "If you had been the other chap I came here for, I would have told you, very simply, 'Not Drax, my befuddled pupil. Remember from your studies of regional religions throughout the Flanaess? Where is the Church of Hextor stronger, more prominent, than in North Kingdom? After all, I believe that you know, but momentarily did not recall, that Herzog Grenell I of House Naelax, self-styled Overking of Northern Aerdy, is the highest-ranking patriarch of Hextor in the eastern Flanaess. Furthermore, I would toss you this bone .... if you were that other chap, that is .... that the clergy at the Citadel of Merciless Massacre are a paranoid and suspicious lot, as are all those that have something .... damning .... to hide ...." The Archfiend Lord of the Eighth fixes Herzog Tanar'ri with a piercing, soul-searching gaze ....
