El struggled to speak, finding his throat dry and stiff Nergal's smile became a smug, crooked thing. "Body a mite rebellious, great wizard? How sad. You will already have noted that my poor and paltry magics have served to return you to your true shape, and you've already felt my gentle talons. They ensure that any magic you cast or unleash is drained to strengthen my bonds upon you-oh, you may see them not, but bound you are, and shall be for as long as it's my pleasure to keep you so. You're wrapped in spell bindings linked to ray mind; you'll never escape me unnoticed"
Nergal's lips curled in a sneer as he added, "None have broken my mind yet, Elminster, though you're welcome to try. Attaining freedom is a laudable goal for any sentient being."
The ground trembled again, and a flame shot up over their heads, searing a squalling imp. Nergal's smile broadened as he withdrew his tentacle-and the shuddering of the rocks beneath Elminster's baking feet made him stagger and almost fall.
"Laudable," the devil added gloatingly, "but nigh impossible. You see, I’ve spent much time observing your exploits, Old Weirdbeard-and I have uses for you. Oh, yes."
The archdevil’s tentacles were suddenly writhing above his shoulders, like the limbs of an excited and gigantic spider.
"You will, of course, attempt to escape, perhaps even to harm me. Such failures will make little difference to your torment-and they will be failures."
Tentacles stretched forth almost lazily, and a diabolical smile widened.
"You see: You're in my cozy little dale now, wizard."
And wearing that same welcoming smile, Nergal reached out with a tentacle and tore Elminster's right arm off.
Chapter Two
A DEVIL'S WARM MERCY
Nothing is more important than pain. Nothing. It sears and gnaws life itself, commanding all attention, thrusting even archmages into moaning despair.
This particular archmage was only dimly aware of anything more than his pain. Elminster knew he was staggering, trying vainly to clutch at his torn and burning shoulder as tentacles slapped and spun him with lazy glee. Gradually, he became aware of more. The tortured rocks of Avernus stood on all sides, stabbing up into the blood-red sky like the black fingers of corpses. Someone nearby was screaming-a raw, hoarse, and endless cry, a siren of agony amid Nergal's gusty laughter.
Sharp stones laid open El's feet. He barely felt that pain through the agony stabbing through him, leaving him sick and weak. Slowly, he realized something more. The screaming was coining from him.
"Sanity," the archdevil remarked casually, "lasts longer when some vocalization is permitted. It may be an overvalued condition in most expendable slaves, but I need yours to persist awhile longer. Sing, then."
Tentacles wriggled and plowed under human skin, burrowing,.. -
El stiffened, trying somehow to scream even harder as talons of pain transfixed him. His cry died as he choked and strangled on the blood that an outraged stomach spat forth.
"Not even a dagger drawn in defiance?" Nergal mocked. "Not one cantrip, cast to try to make me belch? Such great magecraft!"
El sagged to his knees, only to find that the tentacles around his legs kept him half-upright, sprawled limp and broken in midair well above the rocks. Tentacles tightened anew, and El's remaining arm snapped in three places.
Jagged bones jutted forth as El's arm was twisted crazity-bones that came at the Old Mage's swimming eyes like blood-drenched daggers as his captor forced El's limbs this way and that, playfully.
"Not even one feeble, flailing spell? Not a ring awakened against me?" The devil's taunt was accompanied by more sickening pain as the rings on El's remaining hand were wrenched off-along with the fingers that bore them." You disappoint me, famous wizard, I expected more. Much more."
Retching, El never saw the tentacle that smashed his nose Into bloody shards or the one that slid across his chest, slicing open the skin like a razor. Suckers latched onto certain winking things of magic that Mystra had left in his flesh, centuries ago, They flared blindingly and made the devil hiss in pain and tear ere the tentacles hurled them away,
A blast shook the rocks under El's feet, and then another Nergal laughed with something that might have been relief.
"Trinkets under your skin-my, what a valued slave you've been. I should be flattered, entertaining such importance. Even if it is old and feeble, and knock-naked, scarcely worth the effort of tormenting. Quivering like a lemure- and about as much sport."
Tentacles shook Elminster, and red eyes blazed. "Look at me, human-and heed!" Nergal bellowed. "I'm your doom, and worse. You're going to be my claw to tear open Faerun, once I've prepared you properly. There're Just a few more things to do first. I'll tear out all but a tuft of that beard, to leave me something to haul you around by, and tear away that which makes you a man-"
El screamed higher and harder, helplessly.
“Nergal am I, old fool, and a rightful Prince of Hell. So heed my words. I've few enough visitors who can appreciate proud speeches, so you're going to listen to my every word. My spells will keep you aware, no matter how much pain besets you-and I've had enough of your keening, faster than I'd thought I would. Wherefore, he still."
Elminster suddenly found himself silent, though his throat still rippled in midshrick and his body trembled with its aching effort to spew forth blood.
Nergal gave him a merry smile. "That's better" the archdevil cooed, as if addressing a favorite child. He drew himself up, tentacles rising above him in a soaring, peacock flourish, and spoke like a king declaiming proudly from his throne;
"Outcast and exiled here, I am yet the mightiest of all-aye, overmatching even Tiamat the Many-Mawed-who call Avernus home. Too proud and too accomplished to serve the Reigning Serpent, but too mighty to be slain. Dispater is no greater than I, nor Baalzebul... and therefore I am useful. Some day, Asmodeus might have need of me."
Tentacles caressingly lifted their broken burden. Human skin fell away in strips as Nergal drew what was left of Elminster close, so their eyes stared into each other across a very small distance.
"And on that day," the gleeful outcast devil added in lower tones, "it will be my distinct pleasure to defy the lord of Nessus in his hour of need. Defy him with power enough to shatter his throne, and over his shrieking bones bring war to Hell. And you, little cringing human, shall be my way to some of the weapons I'll need."
Tentacles tightened, and El spat blood involuntarily.
"I-ugh! Uh! Aagh!" was all he managed to say, struggling for breath through the blood choking him. Then the moments allowed him were over. Silence settled icily over his throat again.
Tin glad you agree so eagerly," Nergal purred. "Hearken and learn, little tool. I'm but one of those, both great and wretched, who lurk in the shadows of Avernus awaiting the day we all know will come. Archdevils may be slain, but it's not easy to destroy us forever. The lord of Nessus must burn away some of his power to bring about such a doom. He's done it, yes-but only in punishment for the most deadly doing that could be launched against him; archdevil lying with archdevil to have offspring they hide from Asmodeus, to bring to Hell an archdevil the Lord Below knew not,"
Tentacles thrust Elminster down firmly on a spine of rock. Unyielding sharpness jabbed into raw flesh. Staring at the blood-drenched sky, El arched and writhed in silently screaming agony, A tentacle thoughtfully lifted his head so that he could look along his body ,.. and sec the bloody spire of rock standing amid a glistening welter of his organs, ' He stared at it, too racked with pain to cling to his frayed memory of Mystra's face.