mandatory author's note: Long time ago, I made it clear that the Cania chapter of the game, in short, sucks royally. However, the very premise behind HotU is that, at teh beginning, the Valsharess somehow managed to bring Mephistopheles to heel. Since that is so, I set out to offer a canonically proper alternative to that dreck.
To that end, I shoved my nose into every last Planescape sourcebook I could lay my hands on. About two years ago, I also grabbed one of my Planescape-expert friends by the throat and ran my ideas past him. His insights and comments were invalubale in giving the plot and the backstory behind it its final shape. This chapter is the result.
And if this one doesn't show once and for all just how -and in how many ways- is the game version of events completely idiotic, I don't know what will. ;)
Source materials for this chapter include: 1. "Faces Of Evil: The Fiends" Planescape sourcebook (introduction quote, all italic quotes plus the select baatezu laws and the bulk of information presented come from there). 2. Various other Planescape and FR sourcebooks (two italic-underlined quotes and general canon information). 3. Maths textbook (quotes marked with "#" ...not that you can mistake them for anything else). 4. Several gallons of coffee and more cigarettes than I care to acknowledge. 5. My sick brain.
On a side-note, the structure of this chapter was fun to work with, but coming up with it and writing it as intended gave me so many headaches I cannot begin to describe. In the end, though, I am very pleased with the result. ;)
Replies, discussions and random author drabbles on the forum...
"A good century and a half ahead of his time, Leibniz proposed an algebra of logic, an algebra that would specify the rules for manipulating logical concepts in the manner that ordinary algebra specifies the rules for manipulating numbers"
The Clash of Shadows
chapter 23
The Devil's Arithmetic
"Cut a deal with a baatezu? No thanks. I'd rather cut my throat."
-Tarsheva Longreach, experienced planewalker
Reference System, the defining of
In general, what most berks form a Prime know about the Lower Planes can be summed up thus: "In Abyss, there are demons and in Nine Hells, there are devils. One are chaotic, one are lawful. Both are evil. And they fight."
This, of course, does not even begin to describe, let alone explain the true nature of the Lower Planes. It describes the fiends that inhabit them even less. So here, in short, is the dark of it:
If one were to stretch a line across the Planes, one could do it in either the Good/Evil or Chaos/Order direction. The Lower Planes rest on the bottom of the Good/Evil axis. On one end, there lie the realms of Chaos; on the other, there is Order. To a Clueless, these concepts mean little – they are abstract ideas, mere guidelines on the paths of their lives. The Planes, however, are those ideas. Not just the concepts, but the very quintessence of ideas they represent. The creatures those Planes spawn are, by extension, embodiments of said ideas.
"Their own texts say they were born from the churning will of Baator, their forms and functions spelled out as they stepped forth from the mathematics of evil."
Nine Hells, as some Clueless tend to call it, or Baator, as the Plane is called by those who know better, is both a place and an idea of pure Order and pure Evil. Consequently, its inhabitants, the baatezu, personify those two idea(l)s. And of all the baatezu, the highest among them – the Lords of the Nine – embody them the most.
"Supposedly, the lords are about on the same level as powers, but they've not defined themselves either way as of yet. Regardless, they're said to embody the layers they rule over."
Baator consists of nine layers. Don't get sidetracked by your Clueless way of thinking now – the Outer Planes are both physical and metaphysical in nature. What defines a layer is not simple three dimensions of space and one of time. Every layer is separate, yet each is also infinite. And what defines its nature is the Lord who rules over it, just as the layer defines the lord in turn.
Cania, the eight layer of Baator, is a place of frigid ice, the cold of its frozen wastes worse than even the chill of Stygia. Freezing winds sweep across it, moaning incessantly between the huge glaciers of crystal ice. The hugest among those is the great Nargus, crowned by Mephistar – the citadel of ice from which the Arch-Duke Mephistopheles rules.
"Mephistopheles is a schemer and although he has told Asmodeus to his face that he will rule hell in Asmodeus' stead, the Lord of the Nine allows him to remain in his position"
The fiends compete with one another constantly. It is not a matter of simple competition as the Primes know it. No, it is a clash of ideas instead. Baator represents the quintessence of Orderly Evil on the Planes. The quintessence of Baator is represented by its ninth layer, Nessus. The quintessence of Nessus is embodied in its ruler, Asmodeus, The Arch Devil of all Hells. Therefore, the quintessence of Order and Evil on the Planes is defined by Baator, is defined by Nessus, is defined by Asmodeus. In other words, as far as multiverse is concerned, Order and Evil equals Asmodeus. Whoever unseats Asmudeus will get to substitute him in that equation. Mephistopheles knows this, and runs his schemes accordingly, for in his heart of hearts, he knows that he, and not Asmodeus, is the one to set the Planes straight.
It is said that this amuses Asmodeus to no end.
"The baatezu society is based on lies, betrayal and one-upmanship. Sparked by envy, greed, and hate, the baatezu scheme and plan their whole long lives, looking to rise through the ranks at the expense of others. Fiends who excel at treachery and backstabbing rise high, and quickly at that. Such qualities are exactly the sort prized by their superiors."
Whether the rumors are true or not is of little consequence. What matters is that, as defined by their Plane of origin, the fiends operate in a certain manner inherent to their natures. With baatezu, that manner is Logic. And what represents the logic better than mathematics? No matter how twisted, complicated or uncanny a scheme a fiend weaves, a corresponding mathematical function exists to describe it.
& & &
# The mathematical concept of a function expresses dependence between two quantities, one of which is given (the independent variable, argument of the function, or its "input") and the other produced (the dependent variable, value of the function, or "output"). A function associates a single output to each input element drawn from a fixed set. #
Input Variables, the sets
Be warned, berk – When it comes to fiends, they are not operating within a simple system a mortal blood is used to. They are dealing with the Planes themselves and their reference systems stretch to encompass the scope far greater than you can imagine. What the Prime Material Planes get is, at the most, distant echoes of what the fiends truly dream of.
"Within the breast of every being, there's a space that echoes to some feature of cosmos, a sound that sums up the being's desires, hates, fate, and most hidden self.
The spoken (true) name is the total summation of the fiend's essence; the blood who utters it twists the desires of the fiend so that it's got no choice but to respond. That's why fiends constantly try to dig up secret names of their enemies – so they can pass the names on to mortals who can punish the named fiends or bind them into service."
The bait had been set ages ago. A rumor, whispered across the Planes; information, sold at the price even kings would be hard-pressed to meet. Wrapped in layers upon layers of careful intrigue, laying dormant for centuries on end - an ancient tome, hidden behind bars of peril, lies and deception… And waiting to be found.
It had to be like that; only in this fashion could he ensure that the mortal who found it was indeed possessed of the qualities required: Insightful, to recognize the potential hidden in the vague hints of a hidden treasure. Ambitious, to even begin the search. Cunning and resourceful, to actually succeed in spite of all the obstacles presented along the way. And finally, powerful enough to make use of the treasure uncovered.
Just powerful, though. Not 'worthy' as well. There was no such thing as a "worthy" mortal. But there was, occasionally, such a thing as a useful one.
"The lords don't give a fig about the Blood War, leaving it all in the hands of The Dark Eight. They also make pacts with leatherheads on the Prime Material Plane, promising strength, wealth and sometimes immortality to those who follow their tenets."
Normally, dealing with mortals of any sort falls under the jurisdiction of Furcas and his Ministry of Mortal Relations. Occasionally, though, a lord might take a personal interest - if it serves his personal designs to do so. One only needs to be patient enough and, in accordance with the law of large numbers, sooner or later, suitable circumstances will arise. And a suitable mortal will present itself to the mastermind behind the scheme. Align both in a proper grid, and the wheels of the fiendish mechanism will start turning to its creator's desires.
And the waiting paid off. Eventually, a mortal did emerge from the endless sea of the Primes and called the Arch Duke of Cania forth.
"The names of noble baatezu are more often used to summon and bind lesser fiends. Only a fool would use a noble's name to call the noble itself."
And only a fool could possibly think that it is even possible to summon and bind a creature that is not only an Arch Devil, thus one step above even the nobles, but the embodiment of a very layer it rules over. To summon Mephistopheles was all but to summon Cania itself. Not even Asmodeus could do that. …Easily, anyway. It took an ambitious fool from a Prime to imagine such idiocy was possible in the first place. His summoner was no exception to the rule. But that suited the Lord of Cania just fine. For unlike his summoner, he was not a fool by any stretch of imagination.
"They're partly creatures of symbology as well as physical form, so their natures change bit by bit over the millennia."
For all the layers of peril, all the obstacles he placed down the road, it still took a foolish mind of a mortal to think that a creature such as he would ever let his true name fall into anyone's hands. A false one, however…
"The name evolves with the fiend, changing as much as the creature does."
One little syllable, just one small vowel written down wrongly, and the deed was done. The supposed true name has truly no sway over the fiend summoned by it. But not being summoned was not Mephistopheles' design. He would be called forth and he would answer accordingly; it was just that he had no intentions of being truly bound by the spell.
Of course, since the altered name is still derived from the real true name, the tug of the spell would still be evident. The trick was to alter the name in such a fashion that it "rings" true to the one who utters it; to give the proper impression of binding power to the summoner brave (and foolish) enough to try.
"A fiend called by an old version of its true name isn't bound nearly as well, and it'll delight in showing the summoner just how free it is."
That, or propose a deal instead – one that, to a mortal, would seem to hold mutual benefit for both parties involved. Usually, the contracts made in such a fashion always had the same clauses attached to them. The usual stuff – wealth, power, conquest… that sort of thing. Their petty ambitions always seem to draw mortals towards conquest, Mephistopheles often mused. So let them have it, then, he had decided long ago. Let the mortals take whatever his offered assistance would yield onto them… And in doing so, let them spread the spirit of Baator, of Cania with them.
"Most of all, a Prime is a wellspring of faith. The Outer Planes run on belief, and the fiends thrive on it. So, if the creatures journey to the Prime and convince the Clueless to fear and respect them, they gain the strength of that belief. That alone is reason enough to terrorize mortals on the Prime."
But terrorizing is so crude. Manipulation is so much better. Land and power to the conquering mortal – a fertile soil of belief for the fiend. One more foothold on a Prime for Baator; one less foothold on a Prime for the Abyss. And one more source of power for Mephistopheles of the Eighth. One more piece in the struggle for supremacy, the schemes of which stretched far beyond the scope of one single Prime. Enough pieces aligning on his side of the board, and in due time, it will be Mephistopheles of the Ninth instead.
"The baatezu don't have a religion as such. They rarely offer up their lives in prayerful service. Their religion is law; their rituals evil. That's all they strive for, though they may manipulate mortals through religion."
And now, one of the powers revered on the Primes was fading away:
"The Spider Queen", as she is known to her followers; "The Overbloated Tanar'ri Bitch Who Somehow Attained Godhood", as she is known to some other and - to his thinking – better informed parties.
It was not yet a common knowledge on the Planes. For now, there were only ripples of disturbance floating about, but soon enough, the shift in power would become known and a Planar game of "seize what you can" would begin. And once it does, "All Hells would break loose" as some Primes would say it. Mephistopheles thought the phrase ironically accurate.
In such games, it is not power, but information that determines the winners. The best spoils go to those who enter the game forearmed with proper knowledge on what is truly going on as well as proper ideas on how to best apply said knowledge in the course of the game.
The baatezu information-gathering structures are recognized to be one of the finest ones on the Planes. No less can be said about Mephistopheles' private network. With both resources under his command, the Arch Duke of Eighth was among the first ones to notice something was amiss in the Demonweb Pits. And he was fully determined to make the most of it, in every way he could imagine; more to the point, in every way he would design.
& & &
# A function can be defined by any mathematical condition relating each argument to the corresponding output value. Commonly, a function is defined by a formula, or (more generally) an algorithm. #
Extrapolation, the dissertation of
Chaos – that most despicable taint of the multiverse – is sadly a tenet embraced by many on the Planes. And yet, but a handful of them truly adhere to the tenet they claim to follow. Only those created from the Chaos and by the Chaos, like tanar'ri for instance, can be said to be truly chaotic. Everyone else merely aspire to it. Here is the dark of it:
Only insanity is truly chaotic, and even then, the insanity follows some inward logic and course of action. Anything not truly random – and nothing save the Abyss truly is – is governed by order and laws. No society can exist without having some order inherent in its roots. And where there is a base, there is room for its expansion.
"The average basher is so programmed that what he believes to be simple reflexes are really reactions he learned a long time ago. If a baatezu gets a chance to study or question a body to any degree – and the higher the baatezu, the less time it needs – the monster will have a decent read on the body's instincts and reflexes."
At first, Mephistopheles thought it another waste of time. The one who won his prize belonged to a race known as "drow". And drow, as he had learned, were the race that, for the most part, (foolishly) venerated the powers of Chaos and as such, were of little use to him. But then he took a better look and a whole new world of possibilities inherent in the race opened up before his hell-imbued eyes.
Chaotic – That is how the drow described themselves. But Mephistopheles observed them; studied them. He learned of their ways and their culture and the more he learned, the more delighted he became. For what he had learned was that, while they indeed paid lip service to Chaos, the drow were, in truth, the creatures governed by Law. Oh, they broke and bended their laws however and whenever it suited their needs, but that didn't make them children of Chaos at all. Quite to the contrary, what Mephistopheles learned of their race almost unfailingly coincided with the very laws the baatezu themselves based their existence upon:
I Strength lies only in unity
He had observed the drow of Menzoberranzan and their ever-going inter-House wars. And he had learned that, regardless of how much individual struggle for power marked their existence, the drow were still bound together by common goals of their race as a whole. He had observed examples of it in abundance – the dominance of Underdark that they constantly sought as a race, the uniform religion that almost all of them shared, the racial hatred for their surface cousins, to name but a few. Opposing each other, they still stood against their enemies united.
II The strong rule the weak
With all mortal races, this was really a given. With drow, however, station was one of the basic axioms of their existence. Within their strict hierarchical system, it was simply impossible for anyone but the best – the most ruthless, most ambitious and most powerful – to rise up. Only the strongest rose to the top in their society. All beneath them were not as strong, therefore they were weak. And the strong ruled them, as it should be.
III Failure leads to punishment
And such punishments they were! Mephistopheles observed the drow justice being dealt first-hand and the display pleased him immensely. Truly, the drow lashed out hard and true against those who failed to weave their webs of power and intrigue properly. So much so that they reflected the same practice on Baator almost perfectly.
IV Do to others as they have done to you
a) when possible, do to others before they do to you
b) Treat your inferiors as your superiors treat you
c) learn your lessons from above and below
He had observed the priestesses-in-training and the way the senior students treated the juniors beneath them. He watched the juniors treating their juniors accordingly. He watched them plot and scheme to prevent the possible schemes against them. Even their children learned those lessons in full; if there were siblings of similar age in the House, they sometimes learned it as early as the age of twelve.
V Haste makes waste
a) Revenge is best tempered by time
b) Plan carefully and leave no evidence
c) There is no crime if there is no proof
Drow harbored their grudges like no other mortal race Mephistopheles knew. They nurtured them close to their hearts and always, always attempted to strike back at those who've done them wrong. Of course, the offenders knew this as well, and often, went well out of their ways to protect themselves against the vengeance that was bound to come. This made them hone their plotting skills to perfection, turning them into masters of subterfuge and intrigue. And their justice system made sure they learned the art of covering up their tracks as well. Punishment was dealt, not for the attempt, but for poor execution of it. Successful attempts were silently applauded. As long as there were no proofs left behind, the crimes never happened. Such was the way of drow. And such was the way of Baator.
VI None may rise unless another falls
a) There's only so much room at the top
b) If you would ascend, you must first topple another
The beauties of drow hierarchy did not escape Mephistopheles's careful eye either. Just like on Baator, the system was rigid in its structure, yet flexible enough to allow promising individuals a way to greater glory. In accordance to the finest traditions of Baator, the drow, too, recognized the need to test their mettle against those above them in order to rise to the top. And in doing so, the weak were culled and the strong gained the upper hand that they rightfully earned and therefore deserved. It fueled healthy ambition; it insured that the most powerful ones maintained control over the society as a whole; and at the same time, it allowed for fresh blood to purge the old one that grew stale. Much like Mephistopheles and Asmodeus, really…
So there it was. By carefully placing his own groundwork well in advance, when a shift of power came (or was about to come) about on the Planes, he had a veritable treasure under his wing, just waiting to be put to proper use: For spreading the taint of Baator where it had never been spread before and for spreading the power base of Mephistopheles alongside with it.
In the intertwining games of fiendish power struggles, every angle needs to be covered properly. To do any less is unthinkable. To disregard the goals of baatezu as a race is impossible. The best path to take is the one that binds personal and global aims into the same function by means of an appropriate algorithm.
& & &
# An algorithm may be viewed as controlled logical deduction. This notion may be expressed as: Algorithm logic + control. The logic component expresses the axioms that may be used in the computation and the control component determines the way in which deduction is applied to the axioms. #
Algorithm, the account of
Rulership. Power. Control. Those are the things every blood strives for. To rise above the ranks of the common rabble and ascend to the very top of the social ladder. To rule. And to rule others meant to wield power – power over lives, deaths and every other aspect of existence of those beneath. And to have such power meant to be in control. And having control meant being able to dictate the rules, to be the one to tell the rest of the world what to think, what to do… what to dream. To tell the world what things are and to make the world run accordingly.
This is one thing that remains the same throughout the multiverse, same, on grand scales as well as small ones. On the grand scale, Mephistopheles would tell the multiverse what Order and Evil truly are. On the small scale, Sinvyl Bar'ritar would dictate the rules to the world around her. And that was as it should be. Both worked hard to get where they are.
A bit more than two years ago, no Matron on the Ruling Council of Menzoberranzan gave House Bar'ritar more than a cursory glance. A low-ranking House, barely in the ranks of noble houses at all, its daily routines and works of her priestesses went unnoticed by everyone save the Spider Queen who saw and ruled all. But all those things were about to change. For a bit more than two years ago, a disturbance occurred in the ranks of the clergy that ruled the city supreme.
The Spider Queen was not answering their calls. Always fickle, it was not uncommon for L'loth to favor one House, or one priestess strongly one day and switch her dark blessings to another the next. But this time, it was different. The priestesses' spells were failing far more often than was normal, even for L'loth to allow.
It took a long time before the clergy reluctantly admitted that fact to one another. One could never be too careful in the world of drow; one never knew if her spells were failing because of the works of another rather than more general trend. It turned out that it was. The priestesses found themselves wishing the former option had been true instead.
The Spider Queen was still there. They felt her in their prayers, their offerings had been accepted and many of the spells they asked for were being granted. But the power itself was flickering. The dark voice of L'loth would ring clear in their heads in one moment, only to grow distant and muffled the next.
L'loth's fading, of course, remained a close-guarded secret; it did not take much imagination to conceive all that could happen should the knowledge become widespread. And amidst that ongrowing anxiety, one priestess found her way to the top. But her rise to the top started long before that.
A budding priestess, with excellent grasp of lore of the Outer Planes, uncanny knack for gathering resources and driven by ambition as any drow, Sinvyl Bar'ritar had long devoted herself to studying Lower Planes in earnest. For while she was as devout as any priestess was expected to be, she had long ago realized one simple truth of her society: drow were not devout to L'loth – they were devout to power. It was just that L'loth was on the top of the power scale and thus, was the supreme source of power to those who would follow her word. Sinvyl never dreamed of turning away from her goddess. But she did, however, explore other avenues, seeking not to substitute one power source for another but to find a second to augment the first. For she knew that, no matter how powerful a priestess she becomes and how many steps up she takes (disposing of her mother being the first one she made), she could never hope to take her House, and thus herself, anywhere near the power structure on top. Unless, that is, she found some source of power that no one else had.
What always struck her as limiting was the drow insistence on dealing exclusively with tanar'ri. True, it took great strength to bind and control such wild, chaotic fiends, but in the end, all it took was brute force to accomplish the deed. And while she fully acknowledged the value of sheer strength, she always knew it was much more effective if backed up by a keen intellect. And so, In the privacy of her chambers, Sinvyl devoted her time and resources on exploring a path almost no other had, and begun sharpening her wits by pitting it against the true masters of bureaucratic manipulation – the baatezu.
"A summoned baatezu, even if completely bound by abjurations, will always try to exchange their services instead of providing them for free. Most summoners (especially novices) fall for this ruse. Canny mortals know they don't have to trade services at all: they simply make their demands of the fiends. "
But there was a ruse within a ruse. After almost a century of practice, Sinvyl grew versed in dealing with the baatezu as few others were and she learned well when to exercise force and when to strike a deal. And when the time came for her most outrageous summoning attempt yet, she was prepared well in advance and never even tried to make demands of Mehpistopheles once his avatar projected itself into her summoning circle. She offered him a deal instead and one he was more than willing to accept:
"Mephistopheles displays to the public world a face of charm, wit, and civility."
In the light (or dark) of recent events, the casting power wielded by the clergy had been diminished. Sinvyl's was no exception. But Mephistopheles, almost a deity himself, with cult followings scattered across the Planes, could provide an alternate source of power to boost her spells. And that was only the beginning…
In a matter of months, House Bar'ritar rose to prominence, achieving glory far greater than its low station would ever permit. And she played her game with craftiness few others in the city could match.
It took her less than half a year to subjugate Menzoberranzan to her will. Those who would stand beside her were rewarded; those who would not were crushed under her merciless heel. It really wasn't all that difficult to accomplish. Sinvyl spun her webs of coercion and intrigue wisely, her explanations and the rewards she offered ringing sweet music of power in other Matrons' ears. She would not rule the city – that was never her plan; the ruling structure functioned well for centuries untold and she had no desires to fix things that weren't broken. All she demanded was respect and unerring support for her plans. And her plans were grand indeed.
Once, there was a Matron Mother Baenre who attempted a conquest on surface world. At the first glance, Sinvyl's scheme was no different than hers. But only at the first glance.
Instead of conquest for the sake of conquest, Sinvyl's plan offered much more. She would be given soldiers and fodder by all the houses within the city and she would send her assassins to trap Halaster of the Undermountain. She could not afford to slay the mage for it was he who prevented the Undermountain from collapsing onto itself; moreover, it was he who stood as the balancing factor against the mysterious designs of the volatile, unpredictable Skulls. But she could entrap the mage, thus clearing the paths of the Undermountain for a conquering force to strike out at the city of Waterdeep above. Riches and slaves would pour into Menzoberranzan unhindered, with only the Port of Shadows standing in the way. Something Sinvyl planned to remedy as well.
As it turned out, Halaster was freed sooner than anyone thought he would be and the access to Waterdeep leading through his domain was cut off once again. But Skullport remained a prize in and of itself and that was where Sinvyl's designs took her next.
But what of Mezoberranzan? What possible gains could the priestesses of the Spider Queen get out of that deal? More to the point, wasn't relying on power of an Arch Devil a treachery to the Spider? It was crucial that the Matrons be convinced that the first was worth their while and that the second was not true. And it was on that step of the way where Sinvyl proved her capabilities the most.
Binding Halaster was in itself a feat few, if any, accomplished before. It was a testimony to Sinvyl's own prowess and the most pointed sign of her power yet. And conquering Skullport, a feat never accomplished before, would send a clear message both above and below that Menzoberranzan ruled supreme. And while normally, the surface dwellers, at least, would gather up and attempt to strike back, with the city so positioned in the global Underdark power structure, other drow cities would fall in line behind it, back it up and drive the surface dwellers' forces away. And from there onward… the only limit would be Sinvyl's ambition and imagination.
And as far as the supposed "treason" issue went? Ah, but there was no treason at all! The Queen's webs encompass all; surely, not even Mephistopheles was outside her reach. He would offer, no, he would be forced to give power to her clergy when she herself could not and in doing so, he would make them stronger than ever. For wasn't he a mere male after all? And wasn't it perfectly normal for males to serve the females? On the Planes as well as among the drow? Sinvyl saw this and seized the opportunity with both hands; the Ruling Matrons would be wise to do the same.
And so they had. And Mephistopheles was pleased.
& & &
# In mathematics, the Cartesian product (or product set) is a direct product of sets.
Specifically, the Cartesian product of two sets X (for example the points on an x-axis) and Y (for example the points on a y-axis), denoted X × Y, is the set of all possible ordered pairs whose first component is a member of X and whose second component is a member of Y (e.g. the whole of the x-y plane). #
Cartesian Product – The Function Resolved
Mephistopheles was pleased. Sinvyl thought her designs were grand and on the small-minded scale of the mortals, indeed they were. But they could not measure up to the schemes of the true master behind the game.
"His (Mephistopheles') schemes are also always flamboyant and flashy."
In the end, it was about conquest and the power of belief. Menzoberranzan, or so his inside source informed him, was the darkest jewel in the Spider Queen's crown on this Prime. Consequently, the city was one of the strongest footholds of the tanar'ri. And much like drow, the baatezu relished nothing better than to corrupt and convert the souls and hearts of their enemies to serve their own purposes instead. All the sweeter if said hearts and souls would otherwise work against them.
Mephistopheles cared nothing for the Blood War. But he did care for the same goal baatezu everywhere shared – smearing order and evil across the Planes and quenching the taint of chaos along the way. And every victory, no matter how small, added up in the end.
In her ascension, Sinvyl dealt a mighty stab into the very heart of her city. By merely bringing a baatezu into its confines, she had already lessened the tanar'ri presence therein. By relying on Mephistopheles to provide her with power, she shifted the balance even further into baatezu favor. And now, with her conquest well on its way, the Matrons of Menzoberranzan could only stand witness to superiority of Baator over the Abyss. The baatezu made their statement by merely being there. And that was only the first step.
As Sinvyl's conquest progressed, so did the power of the baatezu spread. Soon enough, the Ruling Matrons would have no choice but to admit that alliance with Baator, with Cania, was indeed preferable to the unpredictable, chaotic dealings with the tanar'ri. Perhaps not in this generation, perhaps not in the next one as well, but a lifetime of a mortal was but a blink of Mephistopheles' eye. Soon enough, an embassy of Cania would be erected in the city and after Sinvyl successfully conquers Skullport and places Menzoberranzan on top of the Underdark hierarchy, other cities would soon fall in line as well. And then the power transfer can begin for real.
"None come to us but those who have chosen to come to us. If we tempt, we do so only to grant understanding. If they fall, they fall willingly."
In ascending as swiftly and brutally as she did, Sinvyl created a crack within the fabric of her city's beliefs. And that was all Mephistopheles needed her to do. For once the crack was created, the way opened for order and evil of Baator, of Cania, to seep through. Trickling at first, in time it would submerge the city in the dark liquid that was the blood of Baator fully. And Mephistopheles would bathe in it. That was his design; only one little piece of that puzzle was left to fall in its designated place. Skullport must fall, and must fall in blood.
"All the baatezu need to exist is the awe and dread of creatures below them. Certainly, they relish sacrifices and offerings, but the baatezu are partly creatures of belief, and in the end, belief is what they feed on."
Mortals believe the fiends needed blood sacrifices offered to them. The truth, however, is the direct opposite: it is the mortals who need that blood, not the other way around. For the greater part, it was a matter of symbology. Mortals believed that the fiends needed blood. The fiends fed on that belief. The more blood shed, the stronger the belief grew. And to, practically, have an entire city offered up as a sacrifice… That alone would fuel Mephistopheles' power as it hadn't been fueled for ages on end. And it would provide yet another steady influx of power he needed in order to overthrow Asmodeus.
When Sinvyl reaches Skullport, he would be summoned forth. A portal, a dimensional gate, would be opened between Skullport and Menzoberranzan, the Matrons gathered in chant and prayer to keep the gateway open and maintain the link between the blood offering, their city and Mephistopheles himself. And in doing so, they, too, would feel the power coursing through their veins, power much greater than anything they had known before. And they would know it was Mephistopheles' doing and their belief would grow even stronger.
Just one more conquest, and the circle of power would be complete.
"One type of summoning calls a fiend by name, drawing it from its tasks without care or regard for that work. A baatezu so summoned is almost always furious for having been pulled away from its duties. Since baatezu are always involved in a task or a scheme, it's hardly likely that a summoner will catch one in a good mood – unless the fiend is manipulating the fool for its own purposes."
& & &
And what of L'loth? What if she comes back from wherever she was disappearing to after all? Well, what of it? Hadn't Mephistopheles done her a favor by keeping her chosen mighty and strong? Hadn't he provided her a service by stepping in her place when situation demanded it of him? When her own priestess called him forth? Why, she practically owed him for it.
If she came back, he was certain they could come to some sort of deal, she and him. After all, for all her chaotic nature, L'loth had long distanced herself from the affairs of the Abyss. Politics of the Lower Planes concerned her little, if at all. Surely, she could be made to see that an arrangement, an alliance perhaps, with Mephistopheles would only be to her benefit. Just like her own priestess had seen it before her.
All that, of course, if she came back at all. But Mephistopheles doubted she would. Another power would make sure of that.
Vhaeraun, her own bastard son, knew he could never sway Menzoberranzan to his side. The city was too deeply devoted to his mother to ever switch one chaos for another. Menzoberranzan clergy could be persuaded to follow a male "emissary" of their goddess, but not a male deity as such. Still, the Masked God had stated that he would rather see Menzoberranzan fall to Mephistopheles than have it handed back to his mother to rule once more.
And Vhaeraun wanted his mother dead and that suited Mephistopheles' plans perfectly. When the time came, he would pit one drow deity against the other; hopefully, they would both perish in the process. And if not, whoever emerged victorious would be too weak to fight him over those of their chosen race he had already won.
If Vhaeraun emerged victorious from that conflict – and Mephistopheles privately believed that Shadow would - he would be satisfied with what was left. He never had a huge following to begin with and he wasn't used to handling things on such grand scales anyway. A spawn of his chaotic mother, Vhaeraun, too, carried the taint of Chaos inside him and no creature of Chaos could ever stand up against the true power of Order. In the end, Order always prevailed and Mephistopheles would be left the sole winner of every prize there was to be had.
As it should be. As it shall be.
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I mentioned that chapter "A Hunt Through The Dark" was a sort of an omage/nod to the great NWN1 module of the same name. I also mentioned that there is a chance that the module will be remastered for NWN2. And guess what? The first public beta is out! (grin)
You can download it here (omit spaces) :
http: / / nwvault. / View.php?viewNWN2ModulesEnglish.Detail&id301
Of course, if you are downloading a beta version, you are generally expected to test the module. In other words, it would be very polite to offer bug reports/feedback once you're done playing. It's up to you, of course...
Personally, I think that, if you like drow (or grew to like them by now), this module is a must-play for you.