CHAPTER 1:
In the heart of the Hell
Nymuë knew this night would forever mark a change in her life. She guessed it as she finished packing her things. She could feel it in the air as she approached the South exit of Baldur's Gate. Tonight was the night of her rebirth.
When she woke up many hours later, the taste of blood in her mouth told her that she probably had been too optimistic.
The chamber in which she was confined had an organic architecture, a tangle of guts forming a floor, a roof and walls. The hybrid, alien construction was reminiscent of the stomach of a huge creature. She herself was shackled in a caisson just wide enough for her fingers to feel its chitinous surface.
The last few hours came flooding back. The evening hadn't started so badly: she had been walking through the city with her pack on, when the machine had appeared from the sky. It looked like a giant conch shell with tentacles. The 'thing' had spread its appendages across the streets, disintegrating civilians at the slightest touch. She had seen a Guards soldier explode into a filament of dust. When the ship had destroyed the bell tower above the lower city, the crowd had panicked. Everyone ran towards the Wyrm's Rock fortress, where the reckless were already forcing their way through. As Nymuë reached the entrance, a tentacle hit her in the back. Her vision blurred, the bodies pressed against hers faded into the background... and led her here.
Oh, now that she was awake, the dark elf was all too aware of her situation. Many texts mentioned mind flayers, although those who survived the encounter were rare. This race of travellers moved from dimension to dimension, occasionally attacking the kingdoms they flew over... The illithids, as they were known, operated under the aegis of a collective consciousness, itself governed by its insatiable appetite for humanoid brains. Anguish gripped the young woman as she noted the presence of other caissons around her. Everything suggested that she had just been hunted. So she wasn't on a ship, but in a larder.
An opening unfolded on her right and, as if to confirm her fears, a mind flayer entered. It was tall, anthropoid to the face. From there, four purple tentacles replaced its chin, to accompany a prominent skull similar to an octopus. The creature had two yellow eyes, currently fixed on a tank in the centre of the room. Larvae were splashing about on its surface. Nymuë watched the illithid dip his slender fingers into the pool. Almost lovingly, he selected a worm and let it move on his thumb. The caisson's shackles were loosened, allowing the captive to see the neighbouring compartment.
She wasn't the only one who had woken up: a woman was banging angrily on the walls of her cell. Her yellow skin and shrunken nose betrayed her githyanki origins, a species as rare as mind flayers. Nymuë had never come across this people of plunderers, travelling within the Astral Plane. By nature, the gith were the sworn enemies of the illithids, whom they chased down relentlessly. This one must have been hunting when the roles were reversed.
Their captor approached the githyanki, and allowed the thing to crawl laboriously across her cheek. Tiny appendages sank around her eyeball. The howl chilled Nymuë to the bone: she snorted and flailed, to no avail. The illithid was already advancing with a second tadpole. When it leaned towards her, the young woman shook her head. From this distance, she could see the parasite's tiny teeth and hear its ravenous squeaking. An overwhelming force contracted the back of her neck. The chaos of her world was reduced to two glowing pupils, quickly replaced by the worm's elongated canines. She felt its tentacles wrap around her eye...
Then everything went black.
It was the smell of burning that brought her out of coma this time. A few minutes must have passed at most, but the room was unrecognisable. There was a huge hole in the ceiling and flames were spreading through the antechamber. The compartment next to her was empty; there was no trace of the githyanki. The floor was shaking and the sounds of a struggle echoed. The Nautiloid had hit something, and whatever this sudden attack came from, it had created a shock powerful enough to weaken the walls of her caisson. With a flick of her shoulder, Nymuë pushed her way down to the sticky ground. This simple movement sent a shockwave through the back of her skull. A violent, undulating migraine. This evil was lurking in her head, digging furrows in her brain: the parasite. The dark elf's legs nearly gave out on her.
The opening to the outside revealed a blood-red sky and a devastated landscape. Nymuë was stunned to realise that they had landed in the middle of a battlefield, and not just any : this was the description of the first stratum of the Hell, the territory of Avernus. A world of war, fire and blood. Dejected, the young woman brushed her temples, where was now home to an illithid tadpole. What had these creatures just done to her? What had they taken?
She tried to calm her growing anxiety, her heart racing. Limbo was clearly not the right place to have a panic attack, and this ship was threatening to collapse at any moment. She had to flee, return to Baldur's Gate and find a healer: it was as simple as that. Palpating her belt, the young woman felt the cold touch of a silver chain, as well as the weight of the dagger hanging from its end. At least that should keep the mind flayers at bay.
Near her chamber, Nymuë saw an illithid corpse, the same one to whom she owed her cerebral roommate. Its violet skin was blackened, charred by the explosion. The dark elf drew renewed courage from the sight. These things could be killed; and if they were, then perhaps her escape plan wasn't so hopeless. The young woman rushed towards the only accessible exit among the ruins. Dissected bodies lay on tables, next to brains stored in jars. The attack on Baldur's Gate did not appear to be a first attempt: the equipment was sophisticated, the captives legion... All this just to feed?
She could hardly find an answer in the adjacent gallery, as its tip was ending by an outside passageway. As Nymuë stepped forward, a shadow almost as massive as the Nautiloïd passed over her: an authentic red dragon. That's what had attacked the ship; that's what she owed her miraculous escape to. Was there a reason for the creature to pursue the Nautiloid, or had it just landed on its territory? For the moment, the animal didn't seem interested in her, which was reassuring. She had to concentrate on her immediate survival.
When the young woman turned around, she realised this objective had already been compromised. The githyanki warrior - very much alive! - had emerged from the shadows. The blade of her sword brushed against her throat:
"Abomination! This is your end!"
Nymuë raised her hands, but was unable to reply. A sudden numbness seized her as fleeting visions flashed through her mind: a dragon's wing, a silver sword... and a flash of her face, through the strange woman's eyes.
"Tsk'va!" The other passenger exclaimed. "You escaped enslavement? Vlaakith blesses me this day!"
"Who are you?" Nymuë hissed.
"Who am I? Your only chance of survival."
The githyanki sheathed her weapon, looking towards the front of the Nautiloïd:
"We must find the helm to take control of the ship. We'll adress the matter of this... infection once we reach the Material Plane. I assume you know how to defend yourself?" she added, examining her dagger.
The dark elf nodded:
"My name is Nymuë."
"It doesn't matter. To the helm!"
Holding back an acerbic remark, the young woman set off after her new ally. Together, they climbed the sides of the ship, having to take cover several times to escape the explosions. Arriving at the other end of the Nautiloid, the two survivors entered an antechamber, similar to the one they had been imprisoned. Two men were lying on examination tables, staring blankly; a woman nearby appeared to have passed out in her caisson. But the fourth prisoner was perfectly conscious: she was banging on the walls of her prison with desesperate energy. When she saw the survivors, she called out to them:
"You! Get me out of this damn thing!"she shouted.
"We don't have time for stragglers." the gihyanki objected.
She seemed ready to set off again, but Nymuë hesitated. In the prisoner's place, she would have begged all the gods in existence to come to her aid... And any help she could get was welcome. The stranger's compartment was different from the one in which she had been locked up. A luminous console was connected to it by pipes, an assembly too complex for her understanding. However, she was surprised to feel the sparkles of her magic: the device was sealed with runes. If she was to believe their description, their counter-spell was hardly complex.
Dancing her fingers gracefully, the young woman traced a line of symbols on the control panel. The arcane glyphs etched themselves into the device, then a pocket opened in its centre. When Nymuë touched it, something inside her jerked in response. The parasite recognised the device. Its touch was both uncomfortable and familiar, imbuing her with a strange feeling of... authority. Without really knowing why, the dark elf commanded the machine to free her prisoner, and it obeyed.
She shuddered. Their infection was already allowing them to communicate with illithid devices... How long before other side effects appeared? She turned her gaze to the survivor, not sure she wanted to know the answer. The stranger was a half elf with dark hair and lovely green eyes. Nevertheless, they crinkled as she stared at her saviours.
"I was beginning to think this was going to be my coffin. Thank you. I'm…
Once again, their tadpoles established a link: through the eyes of the stranger, Nymuë felt a mixture of gratitude and wariness. The latter seemed to be directed at the gith warrior.
"You keep dangerous company." she hissed.
"It's just as good", the dark elf soothed. "Dangerous people can be incredibly effective when it comes to fighting."
"Looks like there's plenty of it ahead. My name is Shadowheart."
"Nymuë."
"Enough of this chatter", the warrior interrupted. "We need to go to the helm!"
The newcomer, Shadowheart, turned her back to them. She vigorously searched her caisson, while the dark elf moved towards the remaining prisoners. The two men rolled their eyes, hardly lucid. Their brains lay in a jar. The fainting human, on the other hand, had escaped the illithid experiments. Nymuë placed her hand on the console connected to her prison.
The result this time was of a completely different nature. Thick smoke billowed from the captive, making her seethe from within. She struggled in vain, meeting only the solid wall of her caisson. Her lips gave a faint gurgling sound, before four tentacles appeared. Nymuë held back a scream as a newborn illithid emerged from the carcass of the unknown woman.
"That's our fate if we're not purified", the githyanki coldly analysed. "Convinced?"
The flayer's eyes stared hungrily at her. Whoever that woman had been, she'd disappeared in a split second, at the pull of a lever. Nymuë felt sorry... and frightened. There was no justification for this ending.
The sound of fighting distracted her from the creature. The helm was now very inhabitants of Avernus had launched the ship, and two mind flayers were battling with cambions. These devils, armed to the teeth, had eliminated three of the tentacled monsters. One of the illithids wrapped its appendix around its opponent, putting itself within range of a spear. When it collapsed, the last flayer addressed the newcomers:
"Slaves. Connect the nerves to the transponder. We must escape. Now."
"Do it", the githyanki urged. "We'll deal with the ghaik after we've escaped!"
Nymuë grabbed her chained dagger. She made her way through the imps, piercing their wings so that Shadowheart and the warrior could finish them off once they were on the ground. To their left, the illithid was fighting the remaining devil. The flapping wings of a red dragon shook the ship.
"Hurry!" the githyanki shouted. "Before it strikes!"
A strangled scream told them the flayer had just finished off its opponent. With him, the respite granted to the fugitives disappeared.
Fear gave Nymuë renewed energy and she rushed towards the transponder. Shadowheart and the warrior confronted the monster, the former with flames, the latter with sword.
Unfortunately for the dark elf, the illithid machinery was a collection of sprawling nerves, with no connection to each other. Was even one leading back to the Material Plane? The creature was very close now, she could feel it. Making out two detached central nerves, the young woman risked everything. She grabbed them, then joined the two together. A brief pressure on the device caused the ship to swerve. The three women leapt forward as the red sky of Avernus disappeared before their eyes. A flood of stars accompanied the Nautiloid's fall through the Planes. Nymuë felt herself hurtling downwards.
She clung to the console with all her might, narrowly avoiding a clawed hand. The mind flayer was upon her. She wanted to step back and grab her weapon, but a crack in the wall sent her over the edge. The dark elf saw the moon glinting in the darkness, and the ground towards which she was heading at full speed.
She continued to fall.
END NOTES
A tutorial full of chaos and explosions !
Curious to get your first feedback! See you next week.