Voi--<br/><br/>They vanish with a faint sound, a popping of air, but arrive with a sound that only he hears. Atop the platform, they find only a single, obvious foe; the high Wyrmlord, Azzarr Kul, a massive, half-blue dragon hobgoblin. He wears a suit of full platemail, crafted out of the scales of a black dragon, and hefts a shield lines with the skin of a red. Even his pick, a monstrous-looking weapon, has been forged from the fangs and bones of the mighty chromatics.<br/><br/>The unhallow effect silences everything else, except for him, and, of course, Draiss; the swirling portal above roars with energy, and the screams of demon and devil at war in Avernus can be heard through it, along with the roaring of the great dragons that live near Tiamat's lair. He can even sense the goddess, herself, keeping an eye on this battle, an important moment for her.<br/><br/>Unseen by the party, four blue Abishai, winged, gargoyle-like devils, currently biding their time, and waiting for an opportunity to strike the distracted heroes. Azzar Kul makes no great speech, no dramatic final words. He knows this is the battle to determine the fate of this world... and assumes his foes can't hear him, anyway. Silently, he draws his pick, turning to face them, his draconic expression grim, ready for battle.