Morotha allows you to flee a bout and focuses on Demios.  Your son suffers a flurry of blows.

19:42, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 19,5 using d20+10,d4+4. Atk, dmg vs Demios.
19:42, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 21,8 using d20+10,d4+4. Atk, dmg vs Demios.
19:40, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 22,10 using d20+10,d6+4. Atk, dmg vs Demios.

He angles his own attack to interfere with her swordplay, honing Demios' defensive edge.

"Hey, why can't you just play Bingo like the rest of the grandmothers I know?"

21:29, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 18 using 1d20+2. Aid +2 to Demios'. (meant to type AC)

Setting that his previous attack wasn't as effective as it should've been, Demios shifts away momentarily, creating room between himself and Morotha.  He holds his sundered blade out before him and makes a series of gestures over it, causing the blade to glow slightly.

Move action: 5 ft step back
Swift action: arcane pool (-1 point, add +1 enhancement to weapon)

”Enough of you!” she cries.  She spins around to face you once more.  With a mighty crack, her tail lashes out for you, striking you heavily in your chest!  The blow nearly knocks the breath from your lungs; but you soon realize, what you keep for now will be taken away soon enough.

22:08, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 18 using 1d20+10. Grapple vs CMD 13.
22:07, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 19,5 using d20+10,d4+4. Tail slap vs Stan (AC 15).
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:15, Thu 22 Mar 2012.

Stan is enraged at this new level of helplessness! He throws the quarterstaff futilely against Morotha's hide and draws his dagger from its sheath.

He thrusts the dagger at the ensnaring snakeflesh, only to see it turned harmlessly aside.

Free: drop quarterstaff
Move: draw dagger
Standard: Attack (which is actually at +0 because of penalties, for a grand total of 3.)
21:39, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 5,2 using d20+2,1d4. Attack. 

22:39, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Stan Fetchin, rolled 21 using 1d20+13. Spellcraft.

As Stan connects physically with Morotha's hide while attempting to stab her, he begins to pick up in faint traces of... Transmutation magic, over-laid over stronger illusion magic.  He can't tell exactly the spell in place, but he begins to realize something he hadn't considered before: the snake demon isn't real.  Or more accurately, there is a demon host standing in front of you, but it is not Morotha--not by a long shot.
This revelation is quickly shared thanks to the connection you share with Demios.  He suddenly assumes a less aggressive stance and nods.
”A projection!  She's projecting her image onto a host.  She can see and hear everything, but she's not really here.  She can't hurt you!”

"Can the host hurt me?" He asks through the link. Even as he wonders, he focuses his energy on seeing through Morotha's magic.

18:22, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 21 using 1d20+6. "I disbelieve!".
This message was last edited by the player at 23:23, Mon 26 Mar 2012.

”Yes.  It would be like you projecting your image upon me.  My blade can still cut, will still kill.  Although I'm sure your foes will find me a much lesser threat than you, an Abyssal Lord and all.  Why won't you simply kill it, m'lord?  Or enslave it.  You need a familiar, do you not?”

"Abyssal lord. Right. Well then, here goes."

Stan stretches out his quarterstaff in a display of power and shouts at the veiled demon. "Heel, thou abomination! Back to the pit."

19:53, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 15 using 1d20+2. Intimidate.

Demios launches a counter-attack, but fails to gain any ground

20:40, Today: Demios rolled 16,7 using d20+14,d6+4. Attack, damage.

The demon holds you tightly, but focuses on Demios.  With a mighty back hand, she his and launches your son through the air and into the cliff face next to the closed doorway.
”You wish to scare me?” she laughs, ”I applaud your fervor, but you are a fool!  You hold no power here, Stan Fetchin!  And now you will die...”

Like a snake, she seems to unhinge her jaw and opens her mouth wider.  She pulls you closer, intent on stuffing you into her mouth.  But suddenly she stops...

”Stan! Hurry!  The hold spell won't last much longer...”
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:52, Wed 28 Mar 2012.

As soon as he slips free from Morotha's grasp, the young adventurer begins running towards his now unfettered wife. His only strategy is flight.

"I could cast a few cantrips, but I doubt it would help.

"Demios, come on. We're getting out of here."

Move:Slip free
Move2: towards portal
This message was last edited by the player at 01:45, Sat 31 Mar 2012.

End combat

Now free from the projection of your demonic mother-in-law, you quickly make for the ledge. Demios hops up to his feet, seeing the situation tiding in your favor, turns to address the now defunct portal. Clementine is at the edge, her arm out-stretched to pull you in.
Back at the portal doorway, Demios struggles in reopening it. Shrieks feel the air all around you as the projections remains held. No doubt Morotha can still perceive her prey slipping away. Once she is there, Clementine touches the surface of the ledge containing the doorway and makes a quick gesture. The rock-surface shimmers and ripples, and in a flash, becomes something else: the inside of a busy-looking gathering place. A restaurant, or tavern perhaps.
Strange music washes over you as the ambiance of the place mixes with the windy Abyssal outcropping, assailing your ears and causing you slight confusion. Jumping trans-dimensionally is never easy on the senses. The wind about the sandy ledge beings blowing wildly, and a second scream joins the first—the projection has escaped Clementine's hold!!
"Quickly!" she shouts as she pushes Demios in before dragging you through. The image of the charging malirth fills the doorway just before it blinks out.

"Hey!" a voice somewhere behind you rises above the din, "no teleportation magic here, okay? You wanna go somewhere, you gotta pay for it." Its tone is authoritative, yet lacks malice. The music that dominates this dimly lit place is haunting, yet easy-feeling. You can tell you're in a safe—or safer—place.

XP forthcoming

The father puts one arm around his son and the other around his wife, drawing them close for a family group-hug. He smiles at the bossy man, who has no idea what has just transpired.

"I'm just happy to be alive, sir."

He looks first at Demios and then Clementine.

"Where are we now?"

"Yer in Oubliette," the voice states after another chimes in, stating that you've come in through the portal. "And you owe me... thirty coins," it adds after counting your party. A moment later, a rather interesting-looking man seems to materialize from the crowd in front of you. He is old and almost completely bald, but has a thick ring of silver hard around the back of his head. His most prominent feature is his oversized nose, complete with a large wart near the tip. His arms and legs are terribly thin, reminding you of a skeleton's; but his gut is rather pronounced.
Despite his particular appearance, he seems fair enough, and even shoots you a disarming, toothless grin.
Demios steps forward, a thin layer of red dust still clinging to his black clothing. This guesture alone seems to put the man on his heels. "M'lord," he remarks, "welcome back! And..." says he as he scans you and Clementine over, "Sprite? Is that you?"
Clementine returns your squeeze and continues to hold onto you as the man addresses her. "Hello Ogden," she replies with a friendly smile.
"Aren't you sight for sore eyes! Please, be seated. And who is this?" he asks looking you over. "Not—
"He is," Demios interrupts, "and we won't be sitting anywhere in this flumph infested hole. We're just passing through."
The man Ogden's expression turns from joyous delight to utter confusion.

"Would - would that be gold, or silver?" Stan asks, bewildered.

His confusion only rises as the introductions are made. Finally, he gives up and passively rocks back and forth on his heels. He rolls his eyes from family member to family member as if to say "you can clue me in any time now."

Finally, he says those very words.

"You can clue me in any time now..." he whispers. "...Sprite."

"The current equivalent to gold-standard, honored Sir," Ogden replies, offering you an awkward bow. "Platinum, electrum, gold, silver, nickel, copper, brass, and of course, any precise gemstone will be accepted."
"Put it on our tab," Demios interjects again before melting into the crowd, "we're just passing through."
Clementine regards you for a moment, her eyes sparkling with excitement, as if she hadn't yet registered what you said last. But suddenly, her face contorts wistfully and she shakes her head at you.

"No, no, my love; it's nothing like that... This is Ogden, sole proprietor of Oubliette, and an old friend..." She is obviously stumbling, searching for the right words to set your mind at ease. But how could she tell you, make you understand. She was sure you would understand, you always did, once she could find the way to explain. Beyond the obvious physical similarities between man and demon, there was a great deal of cultural (for lack of a better term) gaps that were often overlooked; just another set of obstacles for the two of you to work through.
As if sensing the tension, Ogden waves his bony hands dismissively. "Spri—err, she's been coming here since she was a little girl, m'lord," he says warmly. "I've offered her jobs, but she's never taken me up on any of 'em."
"Ogden," she says, holding your arm tighter, "we would like to rent a room. And food!" she says as she turns her attention back to you, "you must be starving!"
At this, however, Ogden's grandfatherly demeanor changes in a subtle way. His smile fades and is replaced by a regretful frown. He speaks to her without looking at her. "I'm sorry Sp—m'lady. But until I see some coins, I have half a mind to send you and yours back to wherever you came in from."
This seems to really strike Clementine as odd, and upsetting.

Stan begins rummaging about for the thirty coins - a significant portion of his current wealth.

"What is it, beloved? Surely the man is entitled to some payment for his services, the same as any other innkeeper?"

He looks to Demios. "Why, we even have a tab here, if what Junior's saying is true."

Ogden accepts the coins gratefully, offering you another bow. However, at the mention of your family tab, Ogden's less-grandfatherly expression returns in earnest. "About yer outstanding tab, Sir," he begins, swallowing nervously. "The last time the young master 'passed through' here, he left quite the trail of destruction behind him! Now, I don't much care for repeat customers—don't get many anyway—but I had to replace a fair amount of hardware; not to mention having to expel the uglies that followed him in... oi-vay, the headaches they caused..."
You scan the crowded common area for your son, and have only slight trouble finding him sitting by himself at a table a short distance from the main stage. You zero in on him, only to become terribly distracted by the performance onstage. A large, roughly pear-shaped, scaly creature is situated there, playing what appears to be a weird-looking instrument. The creature possesses several round eyes, like a spider, all of which are tightly grouped near the center of what must be its head. It has a pair of massive arms, the left of which holds an equally big wooden instrument that looks like a long necked lute; while its right slowly and deliberately moves a thin reed-like object over the strings, creating a strange yet pleasing melody.
As you watch, a second being steps out from behind the odd creature. The newcomer is human, but appears to be touched by something else... celestial perhaps? He looks aged for a man, but possesses an uncanny charm someone several years his younger might enjoy. A thick handlebar moustache adorns his face, coming down from his long, well-kept pure silver hair. A fiddle of rich mahogany wood rests on his shoulder—
"...we'll take care of it, Ogden," your wife's voice reaches you, drawing you back to the conversation at your table.
"Thank you Spri—um... young lady," he replies, back to his old self. "I can put you and yours up in one of the rooms upstairs; a suite perhaps?"
"That's not necessary," she says, squeezing your arm again. "We really are just passing through. We only really need something warm to eat and a few hours sleep."
"You know we don't do hourly rates."
"We'll pay for the night." With that, Ogden offers you both a courteous bow and disappears into the crowds. Now that you're relatively alone, Clementine hurls herself at you, embracing you tightly. "Stan! What were you thinking attacking a marilith's tower, even for my sake?! You could have been killed! And bringing our son?"

Stan is curious about the strange creature, but this is no time for sightseeing. He allows his wife to handle the negotiations and soon finds himself embracing her.

"Yeah, about that. When did we have a son?" He asks. "The guy is old enough to be my grandfather." He draws confusing diagrams in the air with his fingers.

"You know, we got lost in time. That is, my adventuring companions and I. Lost in a child's nightmare, or something."

He pauses, scrunches his brow. "So I guess we both have some explaining to do."

"What's this place and why does the owner seem so gruff? Old friend or not, he's feeling the squeeze for money from somewhere or someone."

"Demios was born not long after you disappeared," she answers after pulling away from the hug to look into your eyes. "I wanted to tell you, but you were busy with that elf lady. I guess it was lucky that you didn't come to meet me when we first planned," she continues. "My mother followed me and set a trap for you. I know she would have killed you had you been there. She nearly killed me, had it not been for him," she says nodding to the figure of your son sitting alone at the table across the room.
"I think she figured that he provided another opportunity for her to corrupt and destroy something beautiful... Stan, I'm so sorry," she chokes, fighting back tears. "Now that I have you... I can't explain how demons see the material world. Or justify how they classify beauty. It's...
"He became her pet project, training him to kill—but he resisted Stan! And on his own... because of you!" She throws herself at you once more, nearly knocking you from the stool.

"This is Oubliette," she says after the long embrace, "and he is Ogden. I... I don't know how else to explain it. He is Ogden. But don't pay much attention to him. He's always been like that. What he does with the money, I don't know; but he covets it worse than the Whispering Tyrant...
"Anyway, you must be incredibly tired," she says, that special gleam returning to her eye. "Perhaps we should retire for the night?"

Stan puts his hand on hers. Whether or not demons recognize true beauty, it is there among their kind for those who seek after it.

"That sounds wonderful. It's been a long time since I've had a good night's sleep in a relatively safe place."

You leave Demios in the common room, and a few minutes later you find yourself lying next to your wife in a cozy room. The mattress doesn't stand up to the quality of your college, or that of Silvervine, but in light of the adventure you've just had, it is a welcome surface. The room itself is only slightly larger than a standard inn-room, and to your surprise is equipped with its own fireplace. Its furnishings are sparse, but not lacking; the high wooden walls seem to absorb the orange glow of the fire, creating a very comfortable environment. The heat of the fire, the thick blankets, and the two bodies, although certainly not sweltering compared to the Abyss, or staunching by any means, pulls heavily at your eyelids.
Clementine fell asleep minutes ago, nearly as soon as her head came to rest on your arm. The events of the day have weighed just as heavily on her. You scan the delicate skin of her neck, noticing the impression of the collar and conclude the series of deeper indentions might leave a slight scar. You allow your head to rest on an overstuffed pillow and quickly feel its coolness fade away; but you don't dare flip it, for fear of waking her. Exhausted, you let yourself fall into sleep—the first truly restful sleep you have gotten since first having come to Silvervine, and perhaps since the college was destroyed.

You don't remember your dream, or when exactly you feel asleep. But a brisk knock at the door brings you abruptly to the here and now. For a moment you had forgotten where you were, and reflexively reach for Clementine. But she is there. She lies curled into a greedy ball of her black robe and your shared blanket, which suits you fine as the warmth of the room hasn't waned at all in the hours of your slumber. The fire crackles as lively as it had when you first entered the room.
Another series of knocks nearly causes you to leap from the bed! If this doesn't stop, she might awaken and be robbed of precise sleep. As you consider the wooden portal for a moment, you see a shadow pass by the light from the gap at the bottom. Something is shoved through and into your room, and hurried footfalls can be heard moving away from your door. The continued strange music can still be heard below.

Stan cautiously stands up. He takes his time so as not to disturb the sleeping demon beside him.

Gingerly, he inches along the wall towards the object on the floor and looks at it, careful not to touch or otherwise disturb it.