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the Master’s Hall of Sundabar, High Priest Zasian Menz of the Temple of Bane will be busy with his own pursuits. I’m sure we’ll reach some sort of agreement of coexistence. You do not have any interest in spiritual matters, and I have little interest in the day-to-day affairs of secular rulership. What’s good for you and your city will undoubtedly be good for me and my temple.”
    “Indeed,” Vhok said. Silently, he added, Though I might
    prefer the incompetent blowhard at the head of the temple. Less dangerous most of the time.
    The cambion dismissed future confrontations from his mind and changed the subject. “Are you prepared to leave tonight?” he asked Menz, though he knew the answer already. Both had been planning their impending journey for a long time.
    “Yes,” Zasian answered. “And what of your preparations? Will we have access to the portal by this evening?”
    “Yes,” Vhok replied. “Lysalis and the others are working now. It shouldn’t be much longer.”
    Zasian nodded and said, “I will meet you at the forges then, when it is time.”
    “And our guide will be waiting on the other side?” Vhok asked.
    “I have made the offerings and sent the messages. The price has been paid, and the guide should be waiting for us on the far side of the portal.”
    “Then I will see you tonight,” Vhok said. He watched as Zasian nodded curtly once, summoned a magical doorway of reddish light, stepped through, and vanished.

Chapter Two
    The Everfire filled the massive chamber with an orange glow. The channel of simmering, molten rock illuminated every surface, its light even shining faintly upon the ceiling. From his vantage point high atop one of the great ruined Forge Towers, Vhok could survey the entirety of the massive room. He could feel waves of heat radiating upward, even several hundred feet away. The oppressive warmth did not bother the cambion, and the smell of scorched stone reminded him of familiar places in the Abyss.
    The tower upon which the Sceptered One and his bevy of fey’ri sorcerers had gathered stood opposite its twin. The upper reaches of the counterpart had long ago shattered in some cataclysm, and the great stone bridge that once connected them simply hung in space, a jagged protrusion going nowhere. Together, the identical towers might have appeared as dual sentries, watching over the dwarves as they worked their forges in the sweltering heat.
    Kaanyr Vhok had failed to conquer Sundabar because it was actually two cities, one on the surface and one below. The dwarves occupied the lower levels, far down in the depths. They had arrived many centuries before the humans and had learned
    to harness the potency of the Everfire for their forge work.
    During the heyday of their activity, the dwarves had constructed side channels intersecting the natural lava course—great troughs that ran perpendicular to the large crevasse. At those smaller fiery canals, the dwarves performed most of their labors, heating and tempering the steel they forged into weapons and armor and the precious metals they crafted into beautiful things.
    To protect themselves from the searing heat of the Everfire, the dwarves placed powerful dweomers upon the magma channels. They trapped most of the heat within protective barriers of invisible force. Using arcane tricks they allowed only small amounts of the liquid fire to flow into the side channels, and magical irrigation gates controlled the flow. In that way, they harnessed the power of what otherwise would have been a most destructive force.
    Vhok knew that even after so many years, the protective magic remained in place, cordoning off the flow, keeping it from overrunning the forging chamber. Though the dwarves performed only a fraction of their work within the Everfire’s tempering heat, they still came occasionally to create their most beautiful—and most magical—works.
    And, because they still valued the primordial lava flow, the dwarves fiercely