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TRIAS

The tunnels under Curst were thick with fiends and other nasty creatures. We fought trelons, nupperibo, lemures, abishai, even a gehreleth.

We also encountered a fiend which named itself Tek'elach, a cornugon, a greater Baatezu. The creature seemed to feel that my actions were actually serving its purpose. Whether or not what I was doing would benefit the Baatezu, I wondered at its faith in talking so openly to me. I resolved that whatever happened, Tek'elach would not be around to see it.

I ordered my companions to attack the fiend. By itself without any support, we rapidly dispatched it, or at least removed its form from Curst, since I doubted we could permanently kill it.

We also, unexpectedly, met a human in the tunnels. I saw a dirty man, hunched and crabbed with age and darkness. His lank, greasy hair flew from his shoulders as he spied us, and his eyes went wide with fear. His fingers began twisting through arcane patterns... After what we had been through, though, I didn't fear any spell he might get off, and just grinned at him. He dropped his hands, and gave me a peculiar stare.

"Ach, another visitor, eh? You'll all be wantin' to scare the ol' hermit half to death, eh? These tunnels're no place for a casual spring walk, y'know. What d'you want from me?"

"I'm looking for a deva," I asked him, getting right to the point.

"Heard rumors about it, but this ol' hermit ain't seen it. I thought it might be underground, since this place locks up all good things, but I still can't find it. If I could, I'd ask if it'd heard about my god." He rattled off a sigh, and looked down the hallway. "Somehow, it feels like it'd be off to the west there. But I still haven't found it. It must have a guardian." He winked at me.

"What are you doing down here, anyway?" He sighed again noisily, caught himself, and looked around wildly for a moment.

"I came to Curst because my god was exiled to Carceri. I've been movin' closer to him alla the time, but I'm not goin' into the prison plane after him. I'm tryin' to find a way to get him out. Since he's a power o' good, he shouldn't even be there, but that's how exile works, I guess."

"How long have you been here?"

"Too long, too long, in the service of a god who's all but forgotten. I remember him, though... I'll find him, if I have to duck all the monsters around forever. I'll find him." He stared off, mumbling.

He refused to say any more about himself, or his god. He might possibly have been another fiend, but if he was he at least had the sense to hide himself in the form of a man, thereby preventing my ordering his destruction.

The tunnels past here led into the underground prison level of Curst. After fighting through a score or so of Curst guards, I finally found who I was looking for. I saw a being with skin of the purest ivory and hair of blinding white. His wings were charred, the feathers destroyed, yet he still radiated peace and love. He stood as if in meditation, taking no notice of my presence, holding his arms out to either side. Chains held his forearms tightly, attached to the dais on which he stood. Though I did not recall having ever seen a deva, I knew in my heart what this was.

The deva raised his head and rested his gaze upon me. His voice was pure and melodic. "What is it you wish of Trias, mortal? Speak your mind and leave me to my memories of paradise." Before I could answer, the deva's face tightened and changed to a frown. The deva turned its head and rested its gaze upon Morte.

"The stench of Baator lies thick about you, skull." Morte immediately shot back a reply.

"You don't smell any better. When was the last time you bathed?"

Meanwhile, Fall-From-Grace had been closely examining the deva. She moved close to me, so that only I could hear her comment.

"A deva... yet those chains do not seem to bind him so much as smother his mind..." Dak'kon, however, had overheard, and chose to add his own observation, founded in personal experience.

"The chains do not hold him. Belief chains him."

I was curious about the deva's comments, and decided to question him about other matters before asking for help for myself. I also wished to learn something about this deva before committing myself.

"Memories of paradise?" A shadow passed over his face at my words.

"Never again shall I see them, I fear, the ordered beauty of Arcadia, the vistas of Elysium, the Seven Mounts of Mount Celestia... all the ugliness contained in these Lower Planes is effaced there, where it is truly possible to believe in redemption. Too many look only to the Lower Planes for their inspiration and aid, I fear... That is all I have left to me in this place. Now what is it you wish of me, mortal? Speak your mind and then leave."

"How did your wings get burnt?" I asked, curious how he had been injured, but not destroyed.

"It was part of the grand betrayal - they seared my wings as they manacled me, that I might not flee them even through the earth. It is the nature of this place that things of beauty are not tolerated."

"Why were you confined?"

"The people of this town - traitors all - know nothing of truth and beauty. They cannot tolerate it. They lured me here and chained me. Mortals do not possess the perspective that allows them to grow the strength of character to rise above desires, as I sought to teach them."

"I disagree, Lord Trias," Fall-From-Grace interjected. "You simply had an overabundance of trust in your spirit for them." A sneer twisted his beautiful face.

"Surely, mistress tanar'ri, you don't believe that mortals can ever gain that perspective? Not when you are what you are - your very nature cries out to subdue any chance mortals might have to rise above their base instincts." I was surprised by his strong reaction, although interminable imprisonment might sour even a deva. In any case, I needed to find a way to remove the chains holding him if I wished to learn anything of value.

"How can you be freed?"

"An act of kindness done to me shall set me free. My sword - my soul - is an agent of such kindness. Fetch the blade for me and strike my chains off. It is kept somewhere in this prison, in a locked and guarded chamber. I know the combination to the entrance." He spoke three arcane syllables that burned into my memory. "Free me, and I should be... in your debt. Perhaps I can aid you in what you seek." It was as Grace said, he seemed to be hesitant in what he said, as if confused. I was therefore surprised to hear him speak as though he knew of what I sought.

"What do you know of what I seek?" He smiled, sadly.

"You wear the marks of it upon your face and carry it within your heart. Should these chains be lifted from me... then I should be able to divine your purpose more deeply, guide you more truly. Until then..." The deva shrugged. "Until then I cannot even give you the benefit of good advice. These chains smother memory and instinct."

"Ravel the hag sent me to you. She said you had knowledge for me about my stolen mortality."

"Ravel... the night hag... a stolen mortality... this all seems so familiar to me, yet I fear I cannot dredge up the knowledge while these chains confine me."

There was no further point in questioning him until I had found his sword. Unfortunately, that meant penetrating to the heart of the prison on this level. We had to penetrate several circles of cells and passageways, fighting another score of guards along the way.

The final guardian was a being known as Cassius. It made the mistake of challenging me to a game of wits, at which I readily defeated it. I quickly grabbed the sword it had been guarding. The heavy blade was warm to the touch, and flames had been carved across the surface of the blade. The intricacy of the carvings was breathtaking; they were done with such skill that the sword seemed to be burning with metallic flames... someone must have spent several centuries rendering them. The metal of the blade was unfamiliar... it was heavy, but it shined like silver. I quickly wrapped the sword in a cloth and thrust it into my pack; the sword might literally have a mind of its own, and I didn't wish to risk prolonged contact with it.

The Curst authorities had switched over the prison to use the sword to power its magical wards. With the sword's removal, every door in the prison was unlocked, and the prisoners swarmed the halls seeking freedom. The remaining guards, summoned to stop me, now turned to slaughtering the prisoners rather than let them escape. I aided the prisoners as best I could, but many died nonetheless.

The prisoners themselves did not trust me or my companions, so once we had driven off the remaining guards I left them to seek freedom on their own. I returned to the chained deva, and showed him the sword I had found. Trias looked shocked for a moment.

"Celestial Fire? You have recovered my blade? Will you free me? Then strike a blow against the chain!"

Rather than answering, I took its cloth-wrapped hilt in hand and stuck a blow against the chain holding him. The chains sundered easily under the blade, and the sound of a thunderclap resonated between my ears. Everything went black for a moment, and I felt the blade vanish from between my fingers.

"I thank you for freeing me. I owe you much." His charred wings fluttered. "What would you ask of me, mortal? I'm afraid I can offer little in the way of boons."

"My mortality has been stolen from me. I wish to reclaim it."

"You speak foolishness. Yet... there is one who might be able to help you with what you seek. It is a fiend, named Fhjull Forked-Tongue. He shall aid you." The deva's lips quirked in a small smile. "He is under an obligation to do charity."

"How do I reach him?"

"There lies a portal to the north of this prison. Its key is a broken chain link." He peered at the shattered links around his feet, stooped, and pressed one into my hand. "An appropriate key for one who seeks to leave Curst."

"Farewell, mortal. I have... business... to attend to." He looked meaningfully at the ceiling of his prison, and leaped into the earth above him like a diver into an ocean.

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