I've had to take a longer break from writing because of my university studies, and also simply because it was getting a bit harder to write with all the things I had to do. However, finally, here it is - chapter 17. You can also expect the second chapter of my other fanfic to come out this week.

! BEFORE YOU READ THIS CHAPTER, MAKE SURE YOU'VE READ THE ADDED ENDING OF THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER. IT WAS UPLOADED AT THE SAME TIME THIS CHAPTER WAS. !

Enjoy.

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Chapter XVII
All Light Put Out

Xardas stood upon the wall, looking down on the ruined Southern Undrentide.
More precisely, a certain part of its Shadow version. Even more precisely, a large hole in the ground made by something that inhabited it. The diameter of the hole was about seven feet, probably a bit more, and it seemed to go deep into the ground.

And Kadrian claimed it was made by the Lord of the Southern Undrentide.
Which meant the creature was huge, to say the least.

And he was now about to enter its territory… alone.

A few Shadovars and rare Krinth slaves from the city already joined him after he defeated two Lords of the Undrentide, but mostly, the city was simply chaos, everyone doing whatever they wanted. And yet, before he put any order into that chaos, he had to make sure his “rule” is safe and secure and the city is in no danger of being destroyed by its last “lord”.
Therefore, he only asked Kadrian to show him around on the outskirts of Shadow Undrentide and look around for any signs of what the last Lord actually was.

But he still had no idea. Other than the fact it may be anywhere below him. The Lord apparently took a liking to burying himself in the ground.
Xardas nodded to Kadrian, signalizing he would go forward alone from now on, and jumped off the small stone wall straight into the outer parts of the Southern Lord’s territory.
He drew on his Silver Sword and moved forward, making sure every step was a safe one and that nothing would attack him from the shadows.
Xardas’ body was already undergoing some minor outer changes. His ears slightly widened, elongated and parts of them got scaly, which, for now, made him look strange. His normal, humanoid canines grew into sharper fangs, and his fingernails grew into sharper points and gained a delicate, bronze hue to them. He also felt stronger than ever before. Still, he knew it was far from the full power he could gain from his draconic heritage.
Yes, a long way towards it he had. One he may never live to finish, as he was only half-elf, and the process could take years, if not decades.

But it may as well take weeks or months. Xardas knew that certain circumstances made certain talented people become very powerful extraordinarily quickly, and he knew it from personal experience.

He even met a few people along his way who grew nearly as fast as he did, and most of them became his comrades. Nobody, of course, made quite the progress he did, and that alone caused Xardas to become slightly overconfident… Cocky.
Perhaps he’d once pay for that. Perhaps that cockiness would be luckily cut short before it harmed anyone. Or perhaps he’d be cocky for the rest of his more or less glorious days.

But for now, Xardas Carolinger of West Harbor held every right to be confident.
Of course, in a terrain such as this, his confidence was somewhat tempered by a level of cautiousness. And just as it usually happens with people whose hearts are not made of stone or steel, whose minds are still humane in their composition and way of working, whose hearts haven’t been deadened or entirely cut out of them…

All this confidence somehow immediately fleeted as, after walking for dozens of minutes, he felt the ground shake under him.

Maenaz realized he had dozen off before he threw a glance around, quickly realizing what happened no more than two or three hours ago, where he was, what he did, what he hadn’t done, what he should have done and what he didn’t have to do.
To sum up one of the above, today, quite recently, he had sex with an ex-Duke of Hell she-devil in her natural form. Something he wasn’t even 100% sure he wanted. He just… did it. And the course of action felt almost natural at the time, while the action itself…
To sum it up, not only was it certainly… unique, it just *might* have been better than any erotic action he ever had. And he was banging the Empress of the Drow for quite some time, mind you.
Maenaz tried to rise from the bedding, but he felt strange. As if he drunk a couple tips of alcohol the night before and one tip ten minutes ago.
Well, he never got drunk from sex before, so this was certainly strange. Moreover, a weird, but somehow recognizable smell filled his nostrils.
He got up on his elbows, glanced around, and heard a sound from somewhere behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a pair of doors opened, which apparently lead to another chamber.
Another private chamber? What was it, dining room? Bathroom?
Maenaz stood at the door to witness that the latter was the accurate answer, but it was what he saw that completely caught him by surprise.
Euryale was bathing, which wasn’t so surprising if you considered that she was a “woman” after all…
She was bathing in milk. Like the queens and princesses of the old times did to obtain “beauty”.

The warlock seriously had to fight off a laugh once he realized that. Fiend bathing in milk to obtain beauty.

At least now he knew it did not work. At least on the natural forms of outsiders.

No, Euryale was not a beauty. Definitely not. Maenaz could name a few truly beautiful women off the top of his head. Sharwyn was beautiful. Valsharess was an exquisite, exotic beauty as well. But the she-devil? No, she wasn’t beautiful. In terms of facial features, she wasn’t even pretty, hell, to some she might be scary, even. Euryale was provocative, sensual, erotic, but not beautiful.

Still, he managed to hold off a laugh and then he realized she noticed his presence.
- I see you’ve finally recovered from our little bout of pleasure. You have quite the remarkable vitality for a human, as I expected. I’m still kind of curious as to what the limits of this vitality are, to be honest.


Maenaz remained silent. He still wondered what exactly was he doing here. How did it come to this?
How and why did he allow himself to be… seduced?
If it came simply from his sexual frustrations, it did not require… her. He could simply return to the Material Plane and flirt with the first prettier female he saw, and if he couldn’t get any of them interested in him in such a way, he had a small fortune – certainly enough to pay for a sexual encounter.
That’s why there had to be something more to that. Something he did not understand, because there was almost nothing that could pull him to that “woman” in such a way.
The main feature of her, one that could draw stares and inspire lusts, were those huge breasts of hers, but that was about it. Little else to be perceived as truly attractive. From a certain point of view she was nothing but a busty seemingly-female fiend with an overly thick, plump body and overall size greater than he has ever seen in human woman, no, in
truth greater than he had ever seen in any full-blooded human.
So, why did he fall to her wiles?
- It appears you cannot take your eyes off the show. – she raised her hands to lift her breasts. Truly, they were big just from the proportions of her body alone. Adding to it the fact that she was neither thin nor small, they appeared more “outrageous” than “big”.- Like what you see, don’t you?

That was the right question. Did he? And if he did, why?
He did not know.
- Get over here, and I’ll give you precisely what you need right now. And in both great quality and great quantity.
He now recognized. Of course, that smell he felt…
It wasn’t just regular milk. Milk did not smell that way, regardless of what creature produced it. Maybe it did if it was taken out of whatever they stock bred in Hell, it might smell like that, but the more likely explanation was that it was simply her. Something in her body that slowly polluted the liquid, tainted it, make it change all up to the very way it smelled.
But it was not unpleasant, not in the slightest bit off-putting like you’d expect from someone’s sweat or most other bodily fluids.
In fact, when she started to entice him to come closer, when she started to “play” with her breasts, he noticed that his body did react, with smell or not, that he did feel a twinge of arousal.
- So, are you just going to stand over there, Maenaz Carn’renor, and torture yourself with desire, or are you going to get over here and let me give you the *treatment* you need?

Was that the truth about himself? Thinking was always hard around tempting women, for almost every single male, and it appeared it was especially hard for *him* to be around *her*. Maenaz was usually smart, rational, slightly cold unless certain matters of importance to him were concerned.
When you added such base needs, such uncontrollable, unexplainable lusts and desires to what was normally a cool, concentrated mind, all you could get was insanity. Madness.
That was probably what guided his steps to the woman in the pool. Because it sure as hell wasn’t simple will or normal, regular desire. If he was in full control of himself, if his mind worked the usual way it did once, if he had Aribeth, or Sharwyn, or maybe even Valsharess around, the Warlock could be disgusted by what he did and continued to do with the fiend.
But he didn’t, and he wasn’t about to get all his answers and all his senses about that case until quite some time later.



In the meantime, in Shadow Undrentide…

Xardas instinctively moved away from where the creature was about to appear moment before it did, simply because he felt it for what it was. The mere sensation made him shiver. Unlike what was tearing the ground apart, because that make him shake and almost lose his standing.
Suddenly, a giant but relatively slim head appeared through a seam that appeared in the ground, rocks flying everywhere, as a black, snake-like shape emerged before his eyes, the jaws in front of it decidedly not reptilian, opening themselves into four teeth-lined parts, a single horizontally-placed, violet-glowing eye right above them. The creature was huge, over seven feet in diameter with its jaws closed and at least twenty five feet long just counting what emerged from the ground.
And Xardas, somewhere inside, knew that it was far more than just a giant beast that emerged from the ground before him. No, it was more than flesh – it was a mass of darkness beyond a mortal’s comprehension.
But not beyond his. No, not beyond the comprehension of a man who battled the King of Shadows himself.
This thing was a Nightshade. That meant it was no beast. It had intelligence, malevolence, and a shadow of a will.
But most of all, it had power. And it had all the characteristics needed to be a true monstrosity.
And it loomed above him. He had no illusions about whether the creature noticed his presence or not – it did. He just wondered how it was going to attack, and apparently, so did “it”.
If this was the Lord of the Southern Shadow Undrentide, they sure allowed strange people to get into positions of authority here… these days.
Oh, but Xardas was not an idiot enough to simply wait for a move.
When the creature’s head rammed itself into the space he was just in, but no longer, it was rapidly followed by a pillar of flames.

Despite the fact that it had to take damage, the creature remained silent through the blow, and quickly rose its head to meet the Spirit Shaman. Xardas expected the creature to possess an intelligence, yet it quickly attacked in a way that suggested mindless bloodlust more. The jaws shut themselves close just millimeters before the dodging Xardas, who answered by cutting them with the Silver Sword. The beast withdrew just a bit and then darted forward again, with Xardas barely ducking under the gargantuan body of the beast that quickly emerged longer by another ten feet and loomed above him. Before the monstrosity managed to make another move, he rammed a Heal spell straight into its “neck”, which was actually answered with a roar of pain at last.
The beast rose once again, towering above him, but this time did not attack. Then, he heard the sound of something shoving through the ground straight behind him.
The tail of the creature appeared, carrying a mean-looking sting with thorny sides on the end of it.
Getting stabbed by it was probably bad enough. If it carried actual poison…
He did not want to check whether it did nor he intended to. The attack with the tail was dodged at the last second, with the hero securing his side by the use of his magical blade and, as he finished the incantation, a wave of flames moved from his hand and immediately put the sting as well as the significant part of the tail itself on fire.
The creature attempted another quick bite and this time, one of its teeth actually razed Xardas’ skin even as he tried to dodge. The beast still attacked with a simple-mindedness worthy of a giant bug it was similar to, but Xardas already decided that its size itself was a reason to treat it like a deadly enemy.
And that’s just what he intended to do.
The Silver Sword suddenly spread itself into a mass of shards that flew towards the creature’s head, encircling it and then flying straight at it, trying to sever it into pieces. In the meantime, the Harbormen himself was already busy casting another spell.
The beast turned towards him only to be met by his flames of Moonfire, the sound released by the monstrosity more akin to a screech of agony than anything else. It suddenly rammed itself into the ground and started to dig into it, and as its massive body shifted from one hole in the ground to another, Xardas realized that this creature may as well be three or four times longer than what initially appeared above the ground.
The last of the Lords of Shadow Undrentide was not huge, he was fucking gigantic.
Xardas could sense and see some of the effects of its movement very well, and he realized the beast was either withdrawing or escaping altogether.
Something he did not intend to let it do.
And as comical as it was, a man not even six feet tall started to pursue a creature over seven feet wide and one hundred feet tall, and only Gods knew how massive, through the land that could be called its territory.
Fate had a sense of humor indeed.

He was a bit surprised when he was told to simply sit down at the edge of her pool of milk, but complied. The soles of his feet soaked in the warm milk as she got closer to him, a small grin forming on her face. He noticed he was already slowly getting erect, and this must be why the devil was so glad.
She leaned in even closer, her nipples pressing against his thighs, and gently grabbed his manhood with her fingers. He saw what she could do with her fingernails-namely elongate them, and they did not seem to be the least sharp thing in the universe either – but as he expected, she was both gentle and dexterous enough not to do any harm. More so, the pulls and tugs were quickly leading him to full erection.
- Let me get it all nice, hard and wet for you. I happen to rather like…hmmm…

Euryale’s long tongue protruded from her lips, quickly going down to his erection. His head was exposed when she pulled back his foreskin, and the tongue quickly found its way to it. He felt her warm breath and a small drip of saliva landed on his slit before she started to play with it. Then, the long muscle protruding from her mouth moved down, along his shaft, teasing all the veins on the way to his balls. She teased them with the extended tongue before she lowered her mouth and sucked on the left one for a moment. He gasped as she let go of it and extended her tongue again, running it up and down his shaft. It slowly got back to the slit on the head of his manhood, toying a bit with it, making him gasp, and pushing his member to full erection. Her mouth once again widened in a smile before she opened them to suck his head inside. He was worried about her teeth for a moment, before her mouth wrapped tightly around his cock and sucked half of it into her mouth rapidly. It appeared she could avoid grazing him with her teeth quite skillfully, and her lips slid back to the top of his head. Her tongue moved again, and as she slowly moved her lips down, it started to wrap around his cock. It was long, long enough to play with his cock to quite good effect. It was wrapping and unwrapping and encircling his dick all in her mouth as she continued to move her lips up and down, her cheeks slowly caving in as she build up suction. She then pushed it deep in her mouth and her throat, swallowing over seven and half inches of meat, before she pulled back.
- My, my, it is so hard it must hurt. Don’t worry my poor thing, I fully intend to help you with your peril… Lay down.

He did as she told, wondering what she was going to do now that he was hard. But, apparently, she simply intended to continue pleasuring him, a bit to his surprise, as her head zeroed above his cock and took it in her mouth again. She quickly sucked it inside her moved deeply, cheeks going concave as pressure in her mouth lowered and the suction build up. He could tell already she was very good, and having bigger mouth and a longer tongue certainly helped. She could certainly use the tongue as well. His cock was being either continually encircled or wildly beaten inside her mouth by the long slick muscle, and he was enjoying it, gasping and groaning almost every moment. When her hand started to massage his balls and his cock started to get stuffed deeper and deeper into Euryale’s throat, he could tell he wouldn’t last long. Her lips were reaching his balls ever time now, and he could sometimes feel her tongue brushing up against them. Suddenly, she pulled back, gurgled, and a lot of her saliva started to flow down on his cock. He sucked in a breath, mouth agape and eyes wide, as her mouth started to go lower and lower on him. Her hand lifted his balls and shoved them into his shaft, trying not to be too brutal about it. It amazed him that she continued to go lower and lower on his cock. Did she intend to…

His vision blurred out when her mouth moved past the thick part where his balls and his shaft touched, stuffing both inside her mouth and stopping right at his pubic hair before her tongues started to massage and engulf the entire groin she put in his mouth. A mix of experience and size difference apparently made her mouth very, very suitable for pleasing him orally, as her lips could engulf his entire set of sex organs and her mouth could relatively easily stuff it inside, and play with it using this insane tongue of hers. Just when he was sure he couldn’t take much more, she let go of his cock and withdrew, the salivated and desperately twitching organ falling onto his abdomen as he groaned in frustration at the incredible sensation being cut short. She grinned at him.
- You appear to enjoy my little tricks. Imagine me doing that to you every day, no, more than once in a row… The warmth, the stimulation, the ecstasy, your seed spilling into my mouth and throat… Certainly not how you have imagined Lower Planes to be, hmmm??

She took his member back into her hands and jerked it slowly. He waited patiently, though he could barely catch his breath. She gurgled again and spit on her breasts.
- Nooo, it really is more like Elysium, as you once said…Let’s try something else on you. I’m a lot of fun, you see. Man all love these, and you appeared to be entranced with them for quite a time. Let me get you acquainted with my not-so-little feeders.

She then put his member in her cleavage and squeezed the mammoth breasts together, and for the first time Maenaz, who never was particularly conscious about his body nor found anything about it flawed, felt dwarfed and a bit ashamed with the size difference. Her breasts completely engulfed his cock from every angle, drowning him in a sea of warmth and soft flesh covered with definitely resistant, slightly coarse but not really unpleasant skin.
She squeezed the mammaries even closer together and shook them around his erection, eliciting a gasp from the lying warlock. Then she started moving the breasts up and down, stimulating his entirely covered erection. After some experimentation she found the right angle and depth to stimulate him the most and the easiest.
And when she did, Carn’renor was beyond words. The soft globes stimulated his sensitive head, pulled his foreskin back and forth and bathed him in that unnatural warmth that made his balls feel heavier and extra-charged. The fact that she was so skilled in it and the fact that her breasts could absolutely cover him from all angles just added to the pleasure. He felt himself all tense up as his cock once again started to twitch desperately and drip with need. She stuck out her tongue and started moving her breasts independently of each other, occasionally licking the tip of the appearing head. His waist started to shake underneath the front of her massive body, and she slightly pulled back, squeezed her breasts together and pulled it up and down a couple times more. She felt something wet and warm spill inbetween her breasts, and as she pulled them further down the next stream of semen shot upwards and spilled all over the top of her breasts, a few droplets even landing on her neck. Her eyes were nearly sparkling as she continued to milk his rod with her breasts, slightly shaking them up and down as she squeezed his climaxing erection.
She scooped what landed on her neck with her finger and brought it to her mouth as the former hero of Neverwinter was panting below her. She then lifted her heavy breasts and licked his offering off them, clearly savoring the taste.
- Hmmm, so that’s how the mighty warlock’s essence tastes like… way better than most I’ve had…
She lowered her lips back to his twitching, softening member, and licked tentatively.
- I want more… I want to feel you spurting it in my mouth as I milk you for every last drop…

The female devil sucked the head of his member as he inhaled sharply.
- Euryale, what are you do…
- Shhh… just enjoy it.
- We… you can’t! It couldn’t possibly…
She begun to suck on his balls as she jerked him off with her strong hand. He felt uncomfortable, tired and a bit too sensitive. The attention wasn’t welcomed and he doubted it’d have any effect save for torturing him.
- You’re underestimating me. I’ll get that meatrod nice and hard for me again in no time.

She put him back again in her mouth, twisting her tongue around his member and massaging his balls with her hand. It felt like his very brain was getting both tickled and scratched for a moment, so sensitive his tip was. The last of his previous climax went onto her tongue and she continued to suck, which, to his amazement, caused his erection to stop receding. His head left her mouth with a loud pop before she slurped it back inside, her tongue massaging the organ from all sides. Then, she allowed him to leave her mouth again, only to start to jerk him and press her long tongue against the slit on the tip of his dick, teasing it. He groaned, but it was taking the desired effect – his cock was getting hard again.
She enveloped him with her lips again and started bobbing her head up and down on his member, the stimulation finishing his “ascension” to fully erect state. He was still sensitive and the increasing stimulation made him twist and jerk under the she-devil’s ministrations. The noises of sucking and slurping begun to fill the room. Suddenly, Euryale once again moved her hand down from below his groin, grabbing his sack and lifting it up. Maenaz’s eyes widened and he nearly growled as the devil’s mouth came down on him, quickly sucking both his cock and balls inside the warm, wet cavity of her mouth. He threw his head to the side as her tongue danced in her mouth, teasing and stimulating all that she sucked inside. At that point, he was probably harder than he was the first time around, and he felt her tongue slowly push his balls out of her mouth. Then, she withdrew, sucking just the head for a moment before sliding down his entire shaft back, taking it all back into her mouth, the tongue licking and massaging the veins on the underside of his member. She then grabbed the base of his shaft and lifted her mouth off him, before jerking him off and rhythmically allowing his dick to enter and exit her mouth, making a small popping noise each time. She quickly added rapidly wriggling her tongue around as she did so, and he moaned and jerked below her again.
This still felt a bit torturous and uncomfortable, sensitive and drained as he was after expending two loads in under three hours, but it also started to feel extremely pleasurable.
She withdrew to spit on his cock and suck on his balls before bringing them up again and preparing to take his entire groin into her mouth for yet another time.
- Gently… be gentle…

He hoped he could take it now, but he was wrong, the tongue slowly wrapping about his member and the excessive saliva wetting his pubic hair and even slowly dripping down his asscheeks which were spread flat on the ground next to her pool. When she drawn his balls into her mouth and sucked on it strongly he could not help but throw his head back and groan. Apparently, she had no intention at all of being gentle, only caring to blow his mind with the perverse pleasure she represented and coax every bit of seed he had left within him out.
He was already tired from their previous round in bed and his fresh orgasm, his body and cheeks burning and his voice at times breaking, but she appeared to take both his pleasure and his sex drive to entirely new levels.
He panted beneath her as she continued her ministrations, his entire cock covered in spit, glistening and twitching. He had no idea when he was going to have an orgasm – every minute felt like it was half of a one. She pulled away and ran her tongue across his member as she pulled and tugged on it. One of her hands again traveled to his nutsack.
- I’m going to make you blow again… I’ll milk you of your seed until there’s nothing in here… - she gave his balls a small appreciative squeeze.- Give it all to me…

She lifted his balls again and started to swallow his groin, forcing another grunt of torturous pleasure from her lover. He vaguely became aware that his member was seeping more precum now and that it somewhat started to pulse, and it was currently the only way he could tell he was getting close to an orgasm. Her tongue was swishing and massaging his balls in her mouth, and she was apparently aware they were getting “charged” with another helping of her favorite substance. He felt the back of her throat as it spasmed and stimulated the head of his member, and he was on the verge of screaming by now. Agonizingly slowly she withdrew, sucking strongly on every inch of his member as her lips pulled back on it. Another loud pop as it left her mouth and he suddenly felt her hand grab the tip of his member, her head tilting to the side as she wrapped her tongue all around him, the tip of it tickling and teasing the bottom of his head.
His member twitched desperately and only lack of breath stopped him from whimpering and groaning.
- You can’ take it, can you? I just make you so terribly hard and horny, you just want to burst… And that’s exactly what I want… feed me that delicious cream…

She gasped and wrapped her lips around his cock again, bobbing her head up and down on him vigorously. He shivered beneath her and he started to moan into his cock, the vibrations adding to the torturous pleasure of being brought to a second orgasm in a row and a third in short time. And not just any orgasm – they were all intense, pleasurable and involved plenty of strength (and semen) leaving his body.
He groaned as she continued to suck him off, another moan coming from her throat as she felt his cock swell in her mouth. Just a few moments later, he was pumping yet another load straight into her mouth and she devoured it as if she was starved for his semen. She swallowed all she was given as she kept coaxing as much as possible with her lips, not wanting to lose a single drop. He gave a breathless, nearly soundless cry as she milked him of everything he could give, his body probably unable to produce any more semen regardless of any and all sexual encounters he might have that day.
She gave him a last prolonged suck as his member left her mouth with another loud pop, the Warlock feeling utterly spent, tired, and dirty beyond words.
Euryale’s feeling on the matter were quite different, however. She got what she wanted, he mated with her, inseminated her and now she received two quite delicious treats from him as she brought him to the heights of ecstasy, but that only stimulated the sex-addicted devil’s appetite. Her significant intellect told her that there was no way the warlock would be useful for any sexual purpose for at least a day (in truth, he would not be useful for any purpose for quite some time, probably), but her even more significant and intense cravings were pushing her to get more out of him.
The she-devil slowly crawled out of her pool, her giant breasts swooning all over the Warlock’s body as she crawled on top of him. Milk dripped from her body and onto his, and her wet, slick, hungry womanhood left a trace of juices along his leg and zeroed over his sack. She leaned down and started to lick and nibble on his collarbone and the side of his neck. He panted heavily, and forming words was hard for him…
- What… you… doing… I couldn’t… possibly…
She whispered straight into his ear.
- Oh I know. You’re just a poor, poor human. You couldn’t possibly get it up for your horny devil again, unless it involved magic. But my thirst was not yet slaked, no, far from it. You’re going to come back here and feed my lusts again.

She paused to kiss him, the murky taste of his seed still clinging to her tongue. Her breasts were pressed against him and milk dripped all over her body onto his, soaking him with the strange smell.
- You’ll promise me you’ll get back here and lie with me again, give me all you have once again, and that you’ll save yourself for me before that happens. If you won’t promise, I’m going to force everything I want out of you right now, regardless of whether that makes you ten years older or kills you on the spot. I desire, I hunger, I crave, and you stimulated that desire just as much as you have fed it. You WILL return. You want it almost as much as I do, don’t you? You want me to make you feel that way again and again.
- Yes… Yes. I’ll be back. I’m going to satisfy you properly, sate your desire, again. It’s a promise.
- Not enough. – she murmured. - Tell me you want me.
Her slick entrance was now running over his member, the sensation and touch completely unwelcome as he was entirely spent. He wondered whether after this he would crave the pleasure she provided again or never be able to be in a bed with a woman.
- Y…yes, Euryale. I desire you. I want to do this with you again.
She chuckled.
- Yesss, my dear little warlock, yes. I’ll have my way with you. You’ll be mine. You’ll never even think of another women unless I encourage you to. This was just the beginning. The next time will be even more intense and pleasurable for you.

She lifted herself off him.
- Once your weak human brain and body are able to work, get your stuff. I believe you can help yourself to the exit.
And she walked out, leaving him there, exhausted, drained, soaked in the milk from her pool, her saliva, his genitals coated with their combined juices.
The last moral parts of Maenaz could realize this is probably how whores felt, but his mind was too exhausted to process such a complicated thought.
Regardless, he did not yet know that this encounter and any possible follow-ups could put him in trouble way over his head. Maenaz always made his own luck, and he always followed a way of fate he himself chose. Question was, whether this time that luck was going to fail him, and whether he could choose for himself still, or someone else’s shackles were already being placed upon his will.


There are many kinds of evil, and all of them can be found in the diverse races of fiends. Some appeared more often in certain kinds and castes of fiends; some were more common among one race, and less among the other. Some were associated with the higher echelons of fiendish societies, and some with lower.
Among other reasons, Morax was a powerful Ultroloth because his kind of evil was one of the worst.
Morax detested happiness, cheerfulness and love to the very fiber of his being, and with his entire will believed that mortals did not deserve anything good – only suffering, torment and despair should be the fate of mortals. All goods thing should either be destroyed, corrupted, or taken by fiends and used as they wanted.
Morax detested mortals and what made them mortal, and believed this to be correct, and himself to be among the greatest beings Creation ever produced.
Of course, there was a bigger evil in the Gate. Its Lord. Samael.
Morax was loyal to Samael because his fanatic, corruptive and venomous kind of evil helped him spread his own misery and desire to see others suffer instead of rejoice. Samael desired to corrupt mortal hearts and souls, he desired to poison the bonds of friendship and love mortals created, to bring down good and all the feelings and emotions it carried and replace it with spite, anger, hate, or loss.
Throughout the centuries, Morax built a loyalty to his Master. And an understanding of him.
Therefore, even without asking or investigating, he partially understood why his Master recruited the mortal warlock, and why he was treated the way it was.
Of course, a talented mortal was always an asset to fiendish forces, but Samael could be purposely or not purposely overestimating Maenaz’s natural potential. As far as he was concerned, the young human no longer grew fast enough as a warlock nor was his potential power as a Duskblade truly making him a mortal of “immeasurable” potential.
He might be wrong about the mortal’s talent, but he was probably right about another thing. Samael did not recruit the warlock first and foremost because of his potential power. He recruited him because of what he could become.

Apparently, the human, as hundreds and thousands of foolish humans before him, allowed himself to experience the aberrant feeling of “love”. However, the object of his love was killed, and the warlock possessed two important traits that may define his fate. Inability to accept the loss, and the power and will to destroy those who inflicted the loss on him.
That’s why Maenaz was invaluable. Maybe not at once, maybe not drastically, but as long as correct strings were pulled, as long as he was nursed the right way, the warlock would throw away his humanity piece by piece in the name of an abstract feeling felt about a woman long gone.
And when humans threw away what made them mortal, that was when their true potential could be reached.
Morax even though it would be perfect if instead of having her as a dead object of vengeance, this “Aribeth” became corrupted and guided Maenaz toward the rejection of his humanity herself, but that was impossible. It might have been the reason why his slutty colleague Euryale was allowed access to the warlock – to create an imitation of that bond that would quicken his fall – but that was unlikely given that she probably only wanted him for her own perverted purposes. Samael was certainly cunning enough to use her purposes to her own advantage, but as far as immediate gain was concerned, in his mind, Euryale’s new “relationship” with the warlock gave none.
That’s why Morax felt little except a twinge of disgust when he saw the human leave her quarters. To his supernatural senses, the warlock reeked of her, the stench of Baator tainted and twisted with whatever she dared apply to herself in order to become what she was now – which was beyond description for someone as cultured and apathetic as Morax usually was.
Hopefully, soon, Maenaz would start the final part of the poisoning of his soul and transcend his mortal, foolish reactions and desires, and he’d simply leave her behind. For now, he was doing nothing but wasting time with her.
Morax easily recognized the state Warlock was in. Soon, the fall would be unavoidable – Maenaz would have to recognize all that was happening to him and then learn his first lesson – attain the ability to sacrifice practically everything in the name of vengeance.
And then, he would sacrifice more and more until he had nothing but his revenge to sacrifice. Then he’d do that, too. Because he wouldn’t be human anymore. He’d either be able to complete his vengeance and lack a purpose of existence altogether other than what Lord Samael would give him, or he forsake the attempt at revenge simply because his soul would be so far in the darkness that he would not care about it anymore.
Either way, what was happening with the mortal’s body, thankfully, just quickened the process.
And what was happening to his body was reaching its peak.




Maenaz was completely out of any kind of vital energy, almost having to crawl back into his own quarters after managing to get his things out of Euryale’s quarters. He felt used, dirty in spiritual sense and unclean in physical, but he simply had no strange to try and wash the smell of sex (and of Euryale) off himself before dozing into sleep.
But the poor ex-her would not get much rest. Not now, nor ever. Apparently, he was simply one of these types that were fated to die tired, almost dozing off into the shadow of death instead of their line of life just breaking.
This, however, would be a particularly hard time for him, because these infamous, terrifying nightmare’s that sometimes troubled heroes and villains alike, in his case, had a true, tangible source. And, in a way, they also had a purpose.
When Maenaz dozed off into sleep, he could no longer dream of times past or events present. Aribeth could not haunt his dreams otherwise than presenting more potential fates. His friends wouldn’t come back in dreams that were old memories. No, what sat deep inside Maenaz’s mind and shallowly in his soul forced a different kind of dreams upon him.
Twisted visions of future. Or what the concept of “evil” in the universe wanted him to think was future.
He fell into the embrace of sleep quickly, and just as quickly, a vision started to appear before him.
That of a cloaked man. He seemed somehow… familiar. He just did now know how. He appeared to be in his forties, with black hair touched by grayness.
The man was blind.
Suddenly, more silhouettes started to appear. They were all grey and blurred and he could not make out their features, except some of them were female and some male. He also saw a throne that was turned away from him and the blind man.
Then, he heard a familiar, feminine voice.
- Truly, when I first saw you, I knew gods did not look upon you favorably.
- Your courage was overestimated from the start. It fell far short of your selfishness – said a grumpy and familiar male voice.
- Always nuts, bro. You were always nuts.
- It appears your intellect was overestimated if you thought you could stand against our mighty City in your current state.
All these voices appeared familiar, but he did not fully recognize them… until the last one spoke.
- And I considered you my friend. Now, what are you? A pathetic man who will soon lose everything. No, definitely not worthy of friendship.

That voice was unmistakable.
It was Sharwyn’s. And the previous ones… Linu, Daelan, Tomi and Boddyknock.
One last look confirmed it all.
The man wore a chain on his neck. A small ring was attached to the chain, and its shape, colour… they couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. Not by him.
Then, somebody got down from the throne. A silhouette also familiar to him, if a bit different.
- You truly hoped you could stand against me, in this century or in another, in any plane of existence? You were simply a tool to save my city. Your and your so-called “love’s” existence were always expendable when compared with Neverwinter.
Nasher.
- Time to die, Carn’renor. Time to die.

And then, Nasher attacked what appeared to be himself in gods-know how many years. His blind, pathetic incarnation. And that detestable, lying, murdering, backstabbing son of a bitch…

He defeated him. Alone. Just like that.
Maenaz felt a lot of things at this moment. Wrath. Loathing. A feeling of pointlessness and loss. No, that couldn’t be right.

[“ My vengeance is not pointless. It cannot be pointless! I cannot lose to Nasher, blind or not! I will… I’ll do everything! Sacrifice everything, if it can just harm this son of a bitch and his accursed city!”]

Suddenly, a voice he never heard before answered his thoughts.
[* You think you have nothing to lose, little Carn’renor. You are wrong. You still have quite a bit to sacrifice, and not so little to gain… but are you really ready to throw it all away for the sake of vengeance?*]

[“Don’t you dare doubt me now! Of course I am!”]

[* Then do so. WAKE UP. Wake up and do so!*]

Maenaz practically jumped off the bedding vaguely aware that something wet was dripping down the right side of his face.
He found quickly that he saw absolutely nothing.
And then realized. The smell, the feeling, the consistency…
His right eye was *bleeding*. Or at least, blood was flowing out of the general area he’d consider being his eyeball, and he couldn’t see shit.
He jumped right out of his bed, lighting all the candles in the room on fire before going straight to his bathub and the mirror next to it.
Yes, it was the case. His right eye was entirely filled with the red liquid that was oozing and dripping out of it. He couldn’t tell what was wrong nor whether the eye could be saved, but he sure as hell did not intend to simply give it up to whatever sickness or curse was trying to claim it.
He turned to the large metal bowl of cold water that was given to him in case he wanted to bathe and, wasting no time, put his magical wall of flames under it, then quickly went back to his “sleeping room”. He quickly got to his Bag of Holding and opened it up, rapidly pulling the healing potions out of it one after another.
All the time, he barely contained his frustration.
Tens up to hundreds of heroes fight evil aberrations, undead, demons, and all sorts of monsters every decade. They get cursed, cast necromantic spells at, poisoned or diseased sometimes tens of times each.
And of all those stupid adventurers, HE had to get a peculiar eye problem that couldn’t be solved normally. And that just apparently led him to losing or almost losing one of his eyes.
Truly, he wanted to blast something into oblivion, but he was not the kind of person to destroy his own room in frustration before solving the problem.
He returned to his bathub, lifted the bowl now filled with warm water and emptied it into the tub. He then started to pour the healing potions into the water as well.


Quarter of an hour later…

Maenaz lay in the tub, not moving, hands under his head, just looking at the ceiling of his chamber.
He cleaned himself and his eye with the healing-infused water thoroughly (it was then when he realized how badly he smelled, smell of sweat, sexual fluids, now-not-so-fresh-milk, bit of blood from the fights that day and Gods knew what else mixing on him.
After washing the eye thoroughly with the water, he managed to clean it and stop the bleeding, but his eyesight wasn’t returning. More accurately, it did not return the way it was before. The white of his eye was now slightly gray in color and covered with a web of small blood vessels that refused to disappear. The worst thing was, his eyesight worked the same way.

The vision in his right eye became somewhat blurred and it was almost entirely gray or dark gray, which made seeing somewhat hard. The strangest part was, his vision was also covered by a multitude of red spots and lines – and save for the fact that everything he saw through them was colored red, it was the most clear area of his vision. His left eye, thankfully, remained nearly exactly the same way as he remembered from before the return from his mission, but it appeared inevitable now. His eyesight was about to disappear, at least in one eye, and Gods knew what would happen to his other eye due to the effects of this… “taint”.
Therefore, he had to do something, and he had to do something *now*.
Of course, he could just go to Samael and use up his wish to permanently get rid of the problem. Truth be said, this appeared to be the wisest solution and he should have done it long ago. However, it appeared a bit wasteful. He already decided he would only use the wishes under dire circumstances and preferably to hurt Neverwinter as much as possible.
And Samael claimed he *could* restore his eyes. Just… did not want to. He also claimed that he could, in the end, benefit from his condition.
Truth be told, Maenaz, as foolish as it seemed, started to trust in the Archdevil’s intentions. He started to believe that this relationship could lead to him finally stabbing Nasher through the heart or blasting him through the wall.
Only that the warlock could not wait anymore. For the first time in his life, Maenaz was completely out of patience. He needed to be sure Neverwinter was crippled, hurt, that those whom he hated suffered as much as he and Aribeth did.
And he needed that comfort of knowing his enemies are in pain *now*.
It was a pity he could not wait, and a pity he had to start losing eyesight and start getting those weird dreams right now, when everything seemed to slowly go in the right direction, but, after all, sometimes the hand of fate had to be forced. There was no reason to wait with inflicting harm on Neverwinter from afar, even if he had to wait to do it personally.
That’s when the most sinister and craziest idea started to creep into his mind.
If he would lose his eyesight anyway, why not make a use out of it before he does?
What if his eyesight could be used for something, or sacrificed for something, in order to bring harm to this abominable city he hated so much? Or at least help him do so?

Maenaz raised his palm in front of his head and started to look at it.
Metaphorically speaking, his hands were long stained dark with blood. Now, his right eye even perceived them as such.
He clenched his fist.
[“Even if I have to squeeze every last bit of life out of this body and everything worthy out of my mind and soul to see Nasher suffer and fall and Neverwinter pay for its sins… I will do so. Yes, I will sacrifice it all. Every part of myself can be thrown away and forsaken for that single purpose. And apparently, Fate has decreed I should start with my eyes.”]
This should not be hard. After all, he had an army of dark wizards, shadowy beings, devils, yugoloths and a bunch of old-crone witches on his side, with an archdevil on the top of it.
If an occultist ritual that could make him sacrifice his sight in return for the harm to Neverwinter existed, this was the perfect place to try it.
[“Time to see what this Archfiend title is really worth.”]

In the Plane of Shadows…

In the meantime, Xardas had troubles much unlike his predecessor.
Namely, he almost got backstabbed by a sting the size of himself, and that wouldn’t be a pleasant thing.
This time, it appeared, the beast would take a different approach. Sneakier, and more determined.
After managing to dodge the sneaky strike he Flamestruck the massive beast and prepared to call down lightning as the monster suddenly answered with a magical attack of its own.
Of course, he should’ve been prepared for the Cone of Cold, seeing as every other type of Nightshade he met was capable of using it. It’s just the change in tactics was so sudden.
Still, they both struck home with their spells, and Xardas’ next move was faster, though he only used it to heal himself.
The beast rapidly twisted its body and threw itself forward, clearly attempting to either bite the half-elf straight through or swallow him whole. It wasn’t happening, as Xardas even managed to throw a Moonbolt straight into the creature’s throat before moving to the side.
The gargantuan Nightshade was stunned for a moment from consuming the energy that was relatively harmful to it, and Xardas used it to discharge a Heal spell straight into its body. The beast roared, and Xardas felt a weird touch in his mind.
The beast turned its sting to him, but this time, it was neither in a position to attack nor was a direct attack attempted.
The Harbormen did not even manage to blink before an unexpected ray of energy was fired from the sting, and barely managed to move before it struck him right on the chest. The ray appeared somewhat familiar.
The beast’s jaws appeared to his side, and Xardas moved just a moment too late. He saved his hand, true, but getting it sliced by cold, unnatural teeth-like constructs filling the beast’s jaw was not exactly his dream event of the day. He unleashed the shards of his sword upon the beast as he himself cast another healing spell to rapidly make his hand at least available if not truly at full capacity.
He also noticed the creature prepared another spell-like ability, only this time it was purely defensive in nature. A mix of black, dark purple, blood red and night-sky dark blue encircled the beast’s massive body, and Xardas could not help but realize that this was an invocation.
This probably one hundred feet long and only Gods knew how massive creature of the deepest shadow was a WARLOCK.
Suddenly, there was another strange feeling in his head, and this time, he could make out thoughts that were not his own.

[*Kill… devour… annoyance!*]

With this, the beast moved to attack once again.
He managed to avoid making contact with the jaws again, and even dodged a follow-up with the sting, but when the sting was pulled out of the ground and it fired another Eldritch Blast, his reflex was at its limits. To stop the creature from biting straight through him, he immediately put up a wall of fire between himself and his enemy.
The beast shifted and encircled him, moving by the wall of flames and threatening to attack him from any direction… especially if its tail was still over the ground and prepared. Xardas decided this was no time for gentleness, and, suddenly, flames encircled his hands and feet as he started to cast another spell.
Suddenly, the sky was illuminated by dulled, and yet bright orange and red flames that immediately came down in a circle around Xardas, burning the beast’s entire body as it roared once again. Suddenly, it slammed the side of its neck straight into the Spirit Shaman, throwing him away a good 30 or 40 feet. The beast turned to him and immediately moved forward, the Harbormen casting another Flame Strike before it could reach him. The Southern Lord of Undrentide never intended to bite him, however. An intense coldness hit him and surrounded him as another cone of cold was fired, and Xardas immediately got up, only to be met with the sight of the beast’s sting, this time surrounded by energy.
[“ A Hideous Blow! It must be a warlock!”]

Xardas dodged in the last second, and felt additional power fill him as he unleashed his Aura of Vitality, grabbing his Silver Sword in both hands and rapidly countering against the sting, attempting to cut it off. The beast’s tail was damaged, but, suddenly, the half-elf’s sight was made useless when a ball of darkness covered his surroundings.
Xardas could only fear what this meant, as the sting may as well be aimed at him in a split second.
And indeed it was, only this time, he felt the blast was… different. An unnatural cold clawed its way into his bones and his tendons, nearly paralyzing him for a moment and severely limiting his movement.
Which may as well be fatal in a fight like this.
Only in the last moment, when the beast’s massive jaws opened up to tear him into little pieces and draw him inside the beast, Xardas unleashed a Lighting Storm that stopped the creature in its tracks, overloading it with pain and the destructive force of electricity.
[*Kill. Destroy. Gorge on your insides. You’ll never see light again.*]


Maenaz always failed when it came to learning to respect authority, and as such, he once again barged into the chamber of the Lord of the Gate without asking or informing he was going to enter.
He almost thought if he kept doing that he’d finally catch Samael or one of his servants doing something really embarrassing or inappropriate, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, he saw Cerastes and Malacoda talking to their Master, before they all suddenly turned towards him.
- I certainly hope it is a sudden and important case if you once again ignored my request not to rush in here when I’m busy.
- We need to talk, Samael. Now. And it is important.
- You’re agitated. That does not necessarily mean it is indeed important.
- And yet, I will keep telling you that the importance of me barging here is not up for discussion, my Lord.
Samael *FINALLY* blinked, raised his eyebrow skeptically, then sighed and turned to Cerastes.
- Fine, then. Forget what I said - Give these orders to whomever you consider the right person to carry them out. Wait for further instructions. You as well, Malacoda.
They answered in unison.
- Yes, my Lord.

And moved towards the exit. Malacoda threw Maenaz a glance that could crush rocks, and he answered simply with lowering his own a bit shamefully.
Indeed. It turned out she was right, and she already knew. Or perhaps, to them, he still *smelled* of *her*. That was a bad thought when he considered it.
- All right, Warlock. When I recruited you, I knew you had issues, but there is a moment where I will have to draw the line. What is it now? From what I’ve learned, it appeared everything is all right and you’re even enjoying yourself with one of my top-tier servants, so what pressing matter requires my attention?

Maenaz was only mildly surprised to learn. After all, many claimed Gods where near-omniscient in their own planes of origin and in matters of their own divine domains, so why should the archfiend not know what’s happening in his plane? Still, the usual conversation mechanics, as well as the small amount of shock, prompted Maenaz to ask a certain question anyway.
- You know?
- Of course I know. I lord over this place. Not only has Euryale been making it pretty clear that she intends to seduce you, not only weren’t you particularly subtle about entering her chambers, the emotions you radiate tell the entire tale. Not to mention people well-acquainted with her would notice she has rubbed off on you. People acquainted with her with particularly good senses could even still *smell* that.
- This wasn’t what I came to discuss.
- And I have no wish to discuss it. Believe me, when I made Euryale my Duke of Hell I knew quite well who she was. I never intended to join her in her… activities, however. She was simply useful as she was. I don’t care about your… flirtation. Someone may, however.
- Nevermind that, Samael. My right eye just went screwed up. It appears my eyes will become nearly useless in a very short amount of time.
- Yes… It appears your eye is in somewhat bad condition. The amount of taint in your body also slightly increased. The question is, what are you going to do with it.
- I need this thing either gone or used in a creative and purposeful manner.
- Ah. Then, we were thinking the same thing.
- You mean there is a way you could change this around to be profitable, right?
- As I already mentioned, I’m mostly interested in things in the long run. In your development. While we could simply try and remove the taint or move it to another aspect of your body, which would be an incredible pain in the ass if you allow me to say it that way, this would be only a short-term solution with no real gain from it. Also, due to a certain… idea of mine… I’d rather not remove the taint from you just yet. Which leads to the last option, which may be shocking for you.

[“Shocking. Really, what could be shocking at this point? I feel like a hundred year old man who has already seen everything this world has to offer. No, there’s nothing he could throw at me that could be surprising. As a matter of fact…”]

- Not really. We’re probably thinking about the same thing.
The archfiend smirked. As usual, not an especially pleasant sight.
- And that would be?
- Sacrificing my eyesight by myself before I lose it. There are ways to do that, aren’t there?
- Indeed, indeed. – The smirk on the devil’s face widened. – This was what I thought of as well. While it would be possible to try and incorporate your eyes into a magic item, this would take time, not to mention your equipment is practically complete – there is little to improve on. Also, your eyes are simply… human eyes. There’s little to nothing special about them.
- So, what would you propose?
- We should take the metaphysical aspect of your sight and sacrifice it along with your eyes instead. There is a certain ritual to do that, and one I know well.

So, that was it. It was possible to do what he thought he may. The only question was, whether he really wanted and intended to blind himself of his own accord, or was it a momentary lapse into madness.
After all, people don’t usually blind themselves. Especially if ancient archfiends encourage them to do so. Maybe the best course of action was to simply use up the wish and make himself the way he was before.
Because maybe, just maybe, Samael simply wanted to get him killed in action so that he would get the better of their deal in the end. Or maybe he lied and he did not want Maenaz to get truly powerful.
The bad thing about Samael was that one could not really tell whether he lied or not, and that the archfiend’s words could really make one feel like this is the best course of action for them. After all, the archdevil has probably damned his own fair share of mortals during his reign as one of Lords of Baator.
Still, Maenaz told himself that he was willing to sacrifice everything. And he was. He just did not want to be stupid about it.
- Tell me about… this ritual.
- It is quite simple. This is a ritual that demon lords, other archfiends and demigods of spite or vengeance often use to help their favored servants really get at someone. The ritual requires the participant to willingly mutilate himself in several possible ways, various body parts providing various results. If you were to blind yourself, for example… The result may be either blinding another specific person or casting a spell of darkness over a wide area, possibly over entire Neverwinter, that would carry a magical effect you produced. Which is why usually the rituals were granted to spellcasters or people that were good with scrolls.

Something did not sound right about this.
- Do invocations count?
- Yes, they do. However, in case you don’t have a compatible effect, we’ll have to… tweak your abilities a little during the ritual, so that you have a compatible effect.
- Such as?
- Such as the so-called Curse of Despair or Dread Seizure. The darkness that will fall upon the city will automatically put the people in its reach under the effect of the invocation, which is why you may want to choose the first invocation, since it works in a more permanent way as well as having a side-effect on those more capable of resisting it. Even if they are capable of resisting the effect initially, the darkness will continue to try and force the full effect of the invocation on them, which is why, in time, nearly all inhabitants of Neverwinter would be affected by the curse. No amount of clerics would be able to control it.
- Just two questions.
- Yes?
- This effect works on anyone who enters the area of darkness?
- Every mortal creature that enters it who did not participate in the ritual, yes. By “mortal creature” I mean all human-like races, goblinoid races, giants, giant-kin, trolls and monstrous humanoids. Those who were part of the ritual, however, in any way, are immune, although they still must see and walk in the darkness.
- And what if I don’t have invocations such as Curse of Despair?
- As I said, it may require some tweaking with your abilities. Warlocks, as you know, at times change their array of invocations, although usually it is more of a long and difficult process. We’ll make it look easy, although you need a different yet naturally similar invocation of the same level you’d want to exchange.
- The Dead Walk. These undead are almost useless against anything powerful anyway. Will it do?
- Yes. It will do just fine, if you’re willing to go through with the entire process.

Maenaz was thinking intensively the whole time. So, he could bring at least a group of beings into Neverwinter later in time that would be immune to the effect and as such had a natural advantage over the defenders.
Wait.
[“At a later time?”]

- Samael… How long would that effect last?
- That depends on whether they will try to dispel it or not. And of course, they probably will.
- Let’s assume they do. What happens in that case?
- That, again, depends on who would try to dispel the effect. It is a complicated ritual, not a simple spell, and as such a single mage could never hope to dispel it other than through the Wish spell. If a group of low-level mages or clerics would try to do it, it might as well never be dispelled. Mid to high level spellcasters could take months to almost two years. Very powerful spellcasters could manage it in a few weeks.
- What if they used the Wish?
- That correlation isn’t something I know. I believe the spell would be able to remove the effect from a small area almost immediately, in a matter of hours or a single day. If it was to remove the spell from the entire city, however, it would depend on the power of the main participant… you. And it would take at least a week in your case, I believe.
- What if they don’t try or are unable to dispel it?
- Then the magical effect will live for as long as you will. In case of a sudden death, such as a death in battle, I believe the effect would weaken and disappear naturally after a number of days directly correlated to your power, which I would estimate as between twenty one and twenty four days. Note that even if you get resurrected, the effect would still naturally disperse.
- So, basically, I am sacrificing my sight to cast a spell of accursed, draining darkness over the entire Neverwinter that may last anywhere from a couple of days to, say, fifty years.
- Yes, you could put it that way.
- And about my sight… If I sacrifice it in that way, will I ever be able to regain it?

Samael went silent, closing his eyes and standing straight. The silence was drawing out, and the answer was not coming.
The bastard was considering what to tell him, and in what way.
- There are… ways. Not necessarily pleasant ones. But overall, no. You will not be able to regain your eyesight in a normal way. Even if you managed to find a healer skilled enough to fully regenerate your eyes, they would not see.
- What ways are you referring to?
- That I cannot say.
- Cannot, or do not want to?
- You’d be dissatisfied by all methods I’d propose to you. Trust me.
- So, I just get to wait until you decide I’ve been a good enough boy and teach me a way to regain my eyesight?
- Something like that.
- You’re either full of bullshit, or you’re being painfully, stupidly honest.
- Maenaz, you don’t think I’m doing this to incapacitate or harm you, do you?
- I have no idea. You are an archfiend. You may as well be out to harm everyone.
- What would you need your eyesight for when you enter a Neverwinter drowned in darkness, it’s people overcome by despair? Even if you had it, would it not be better to be able to fight without it? Don’t you think that if you were deprived of your eyesight for a time, all of your other senses would develop, including the one you have only because you’re a warlock?
- I’ll be blind, for Demorgon’s sake! Don’t you think this is serious business?
- You should be prepared to make sacrifices. In the end, everybody loses something. But is it not worth losing things important to us if in the end we gain something of greater worth?
- Warning, Samael. You start to sound like some celestial preacher.
- Maybe I am. Your winged, horned angel of vengeance and spite.
- More like the snake trying to tempt me into my fall. Why should I trust you with this?
- Because in the end it will be with profit for you.
- Or it will kill me.
- I’ve never let you down, have I? If you die, it will be purely because you’ve taken too much strain on yourself. If you’ll die, it will mean you could not avenge her anyway.

Maenaz had no way to answer that. Except for this taint, so far, he had indeed benefited from his time with the archfiend. He gained information on the new champion of Neverwinter. He knew he was away. He killed a member of Neverwinter Nine and opened a possibility for Grimgnaw to assassinate its judge. And it was just a start. He also happened to develop a new power he never knew he had. Not to mention he discovered he apparently had a thing for not-exactly-human women. He even had sex with one, and it blew his mind even though he did not understand why he did so in the first place.
So, if not for the eyesight thing, he’d be pretty satisfied with the result.
[“ Think, Maenaz. Think quickly. This will either be to your advantage, or it will be your doom. He’s an archfiend. You don’t trust these kinds of people. Yet, if I can harm Neverwinter through it, and if I lose my sight anyways…”]
There was only one way he could be sure that he gets what he wants, even if Samael indeed meant him no good.
He needed to attack Neverwinter in all available ways at once. Bend it if he couldn’t break it. Make them feel hopeless before he tries to destroy them. Then, even if he fails, his revenge would be at least partially fulfilled.
And if he wanted to do this, there was only one way to go about it.
- Prepare that ritual of yours, then. I have a few things I must do first.
- Is this your final decision?
- Yes. If I need to lose my eyesight to exact my revenge, I will do so without hesitation. However, you’d better not be trying to fool me.
- I have no reason to.
- Before I leave, I want to know a certain thing, Samael. Call it… scientific interest.
- Ask, then.
- There are many questions, and I’ll question you for answers in time, but right now, I want to know one thing. What kind of devil Euryale was before she became a Duke of Hell? Before she changed into what she is now?
- Why do you want to know?
- I just do. Or is this too big of a secret too?
- Before I made her a Duke of Hell and she changed her natural form to her current one, Euryale was a devil of Paeliryon rank, nearly equal to that of a Pit Fiend. I believe that sates you curiosity?
- Not quite, but it will do for now.


Maenaz had to confess that Hebiriel was right when he said Maenaz would not know anything about the kind of devil Euryale originally was.
He never heard of Paeliryon devils, nor what they were capable of, and he always thought Pit Fiends were the undisputedly highest level in the hierarchy of Nine Hells short of Dukes of Hell and Archdevils, but now it seemed there was a type of devil “almost equal to them”.
It would make sense really. Euryale did not have the pit fiend… “vibe”. And any lower level of devil, at least those he knew about, would neither suit her position nor her personality.
He practically dashed for Hebiriel’s tower, as if afraid he may lose his sight any moment.


Maenaz practically barged into Hebiriel’s tower, the corrupted couatl giving him a somewhat inspecting look when he realized the warlock’s presence.
- What is wrong, Maenaz Carn’renor?
- Hebiriel, you have a big collection of books in your tower. I may need one of them if you have it.
- Perhaps I may be able to borrow you one. What exactly are you searching for?
- I need some sort of encyclopedia on devils and their types. Do you have anything like it?
- Indeed. Go and check the second regal on the left. It’s about the Baatezu. Find what interests you.

Checking the books title by title, he finally found ones entitled “the legions of Baator” and “Tome of Devils, Volume I”.
He quickly returned to his chambers to study them, but he had one more pressing concern that required him to use sight before he learned more about the devils.
He pulled out the map the Rakshasa gave him in the city of Hopeless. It was a map of the land around a marked, old and probably ruined fort, located somewhere in the north of the Sword Coast, nearby Icewind Dale. Maenaz studied the map carefully for a few hours, trying to remember it spot by spot, as a whole and in separate parts. It took time, but finally, he was sure he remembered every single thing in the map and that he could get there without problems, even if blinded.
Of course, he may end up being completely incapable to do anything when blinded. He did not know. He never was blind.


He then decided to go through the books… But first he needed some sleep. His eyes were very tired after the “exercise”.

Xardas stood calmly in the face of the roaring jaw of the enemy as electricity coursed through the Nightshade’s “body”. His spell was almost ready, and even with the power of the previous blast reducing his mobility, this would give him and additional edge in this fight.
The power of the Storm Avatar was activated, and Xardas rapidly disappeared from before the single eye of the Nightshade, slicing his side as he put him on fire with another Inferno.

Before the creature managed to turn and find his new position, Xardas immediately covered himself with a Greater Stoneskin and activated his Vigorous Cycle to prevent any further incapacitation. He dodged the beast’s next blast, managing to move in the nick of time thanks to Storm Avatar, and brought down another Flame Strike.
The beast’s sting immediately moved towards his new position, and Xardas managed to dodge in the last moment, but his movement was predicted by the creature as it released yet another Cone of Cold there.
The Spirit Shaman stopped and prepared to fire yet another spell, when he realized something was not quite right.
Focusing all his willpower, the Harbormen blocked off an unexpected attack that tried to bind him to one place, the beast apparently capable of mimicking Hold spells.
Still, the moment he needed to take to block the spell was just what the creature needed, striking from above and finally getting a grab on him with its bite. The beasts giant, dark fangs threatened to quickly destroy and penetrate his Stoneskin, but Xardas was prepared for such an attack as well.
He released the shards of his sword, which encircled him and formed a quickly moving barrier of sharp, silver magical blades that caused the monstrosity to emit mental screams of pain and agony, and most importantly, withdraw its attack. Its one eye looked at him with clear bloodlust and fury as it waited for the barrier to wear off, but Xardas was preparing a counter of his own. The beast lifted its massive tail and apparently readied itself to attack with its sting, and as it saw the shards reforming into a sword, it indeed came down onto the Spirit Shaman.

Right into the burning cone of Moonfire.

The Nightshade emitted another mental scream of agony, but this time, it was also something more. Even though he nearly destroyed the beast’s alternative method of attack with its tail, Xardas knew that the fight was far from over.
This scream of agony was something more than just that. It was a calling. The beast summoned something.

And it was approaching them fast.


Maenaz never even imagined there were that many kinds of devils, whose hierarchy and number of types would definitely seem chaotic and unordered to the average outside observer. Some of them he never saw or even heard of in his life. He was only interested in one, however, so he kept turning the pages until he got to the letter “P”.
And then, he read.
What he read surprised him to say the least.
[“One of the most powerful kinds of Baatezu, the status of Paeliryon is achieved by devils who prefer to manipulate from the shadows, and their advancement to this station is quite different from the one that leads to the position of Pit Fiend. Only a few kinds of devils can be promoted into this station. Paeliryons are the information brokers of Baator, serving in high stations under the various Dukes and Lords of Hell or forming their own conspiracies to gain power – conspiracies that usually fail due to misunderstandings and egoism of the partners rather than lack of competence on their part.
Paeliryons are giant fiends, but whatever adjective one uses for their heigh, the one concerning their weight is a couple of levels greater. They are usually about 16 feet tall and weighting 4000 pounds, with massive paunches, large, black gargoyle-like wings, white and pink or light violet skin, polished fingernails and face covered with make-up. This creates some misunderstandings about a Paeliryon’s gender – truly, as nearly all devils of lesser station among the Baatezu, Paeliryons are sexless and mentally, they are not seldomly genderless as well. If promoted to a position of a Duke of Hell they sometimes retain such state of things and sometimes choose the gender they identify with more.
Other than their significant intellect, massive amounts of information and ability to blackmail with them, Paeliryon devils possess a set of abilities that makes them dangerous in combat mental, magical and physical alike.
The devil’s fingernails, though appearing similar to overgrown, a bit too sharp nails of a woman, are in fact as dangerous as any claws, possessing not only great strength and sharpness but the ability to elongate themselves and to severely damage the insides of any being struck. Moreover, a body struck by a Paeliryons fingernails is momentarily twisted and distorted by the creature’s sick thoughts and will.
In terms of magical ability, the creature possesses multiple abilities related to spying and infiltrating as well as being capable of hovering above the ground rather than using normal flight. They also have powers of weakening and blocking out living creatures.
Last but not least, Paeliryons have unique abilities when it comes to interacting with minds of other creatures. They are capable of searching out insults and epitaphs to belittle, insult, or enrage anybody. A Paeliryon also possesses a pernicious aura of mental waves and powerful fumes originating from the Nine Hells of Baator that rend the mind and drain the will of anyone around them, making them easy targets for any attacks that can only be resisted with powers of one’s mind.”]

He did not need to read any further. This appeared to be what he was looking for. He didn’t know about the fumes, but he did notice that it was harder to think straight around Euryale, and the one time he knew she used a compulsion spell on him, he did not even notice not to mention being able to resist it. Of course, she looked vastly different, but people in the Gate did mention she undertook measures to bring herself to her current form, and he was also aware that the form of a devil changed once they became a Duke of Hell, especially if they only chose a gender upon changing. Euryale may be less than half as tall than the average described Paeliryon, weight only a ninth or a tenth of its mass and look differently, but if she retained the powers described, things made more sense now.
Only that it made even more of a mess out of his mind about whether he wanted to have sex with her back then or not.
It was something to consider. Something to think about. Only not then.
He had something else to do. Namely, he had to visit his doctor about his eyes.


He got informed his ritual was ready, and he packed his weapon more out of habit than any real need. He felt much nervousness and stress, and a bit of doubt, but a part of him was completely determined to do this, and he followed that part.

Walking towards the place of the ritual he was about to partake in, Maenaz’s mind of course started to play tricks on him, reminding him of all the pretty, precious or moving sights in his life.
It took him good two minutes to shut it off. The only sight that he truly should care about could no longer be granted to him in this life, he tried to tell himself.
At last, he came to the chamber prepared for the ritual. It was painted with the blood of some strange creature and decorated with emeralds.
The floor was covered with some strange powder that clearly radiated a magical aura.
There were quite a few people participating in the ritual, including Cerastes, Malacoda, Elamash, Veniseria and others he has seen before but whose names he did not know.
Most importantly, Samael was a part of the ritual, and, this time around, he would bring him harm.
Maenaz stood in the place where Samael instructed him to, and waited. The powder that covered the floor started to glow and, slowly, the decorations of blood that filled the chamber started to disappear, seemingly drawn into the glowing powder. All gathered were either casting spells, or singing a chant that appeared to be an invocation. The chant was a sad song in a language he did not recognize, but he didn’t particularly care.
The bloody decorations in the chamber disappeared and, suddenly, the dust dispersed in an explosion of magical energy. A symbol started to appear, made of light, hovering just above the ground, appearing first similar to a rhombus with a big elipse in the middle and smaller ones on the sides, nearby two small, bladelike shapes that came out of the figure’s sides, destroying the already imperfect rhombus image. Maenaz was in fact sure the symbol meant something. He just wasn’t sure what it meant.
The symbol got complicated, then. First, eight small orbs and two crescent-like shapes on the sides of it, then, two more lines dispersing to the sides and finally, runes on the inside of the symbol.
This symbol did not emanate any positive feeling, emotion, or sensation. No, it emanated something sad and hurtful. He just couldn’t name it.

Then, Maenaz was instructed to step into the symbol, precisely to one of the “holes” near the blade-like shapes in the middle of the symbol. As he did, all of the emeralds in the room exploded, shards feeling the room and the energy released changing the symbol to pure green color.
Maenaz noticed the chant started to change. It was no longer the sad song in an unknown language from the beginning. No, it started to change, first voices starting to sing something else, and then all of the members of the ritual that did not cast individual spells, singing a new, sinister song in the Infernal tongue.
Then, Samael stepped into the symbol, opposite but close to Maenaz, in the other “hole” close to the blade-like and crescent-like shapes.
And then, the symbol itself started to twist, distort, change. The sides became more rough and thorny, the middle started to shift, incorporating some occultist symbols that Maenaz recognized from some book.
Now, he had no doubt as to what the sensation radiating from the symbol was.
Hatred. Spite.
The Infernal changed to yet another language, this time one he did not know, but was pretty sure it was the worst, darkest and most evil of them all.
- Focus your will to harm Neverwinter. To get back at them. To take your revenge. Concentrate on all the terrible feelings that Neverwinter made you feel, and on how you want to get back at them.

Maenaz was silent. The feelings were building up simply as Samael was talking about them. He *inspired* them easily.
Maenaz also felt something change about his own powers, as if something from the symbol was pumped inside him as the way it looked changed, and it destroyed something else inside of him.
He suspected his set of invocations was just forcibly changed. He knew he could stop it, he just had no wish to.
- Show them darkness. Show them despair. Show them your *spite*.
This time, Maenaz fully concentrated on the feelings the archdevil was talking about, and felt the power of the symbol increase. A cloud of darkness suddenly engulfed the floor, going all the way up to the symbol, which now started to pulse with vile energy of virulent green color.
Samael materialized his strange energy blade and reached out with it towards Maenaz, who did likewise.
The blade started to slowly disperse from light-like energy into a more mist-like state that traveled from the middle of the circle and onto Maenaz’s hand.
Maenaz easily felt the significant power of the blade that started to partially materialize in his hand. It was nowhere near as powerful as Maleficus probably was, but the energy was impressive.

After a short while, the energy in his hand had almost the same shape, color and intensity as it had in Samael’s, although the devil still kept his hand directed towards him to allow for the energy transferred in the mist to travel to him.
Maenaz lifted his hand, now carrying the strange blade, and rapidly removed all doubt from his mind.
It had to be so.
He moved his hand to the side of his head, prepared to do what was required of him.
He felt the energy blade cut the skin right next to his eye, and he felt something happening with his spirit that he could not quite describe.
The moment he sharply moved his hand from one side of his head to the other, however, he could feel the soul being momentarily ripped out of him and then being pushed back inside.
And all light was put out.


Xardas dodged another attack, responding with a set of lightning, and then felt the summoned creatures appear.
They were wraiths, except giant and more powerful ones. Xardas wasted no time, he couldn’t affor to fight all these creatures at once. His spell was ready and cast, summoning one of his Earth Elementals.
The creature quickly turned to try and take care of the Nightshade for a while, as Xardas jumped into the group of three dread wraiths and unleashed his wave of spirit-chastising energy. He then moved in a couple of circles around the group, being far faster than them, before stopping and firing a Moonbolt at one of them. It worked, and the creature was frozen in place as he rapidly approached and put it on fire with Inferno before rapidly slashing and cutting it up with his Silver Sword.
As it fell, he jumped backwards and again encircled the remaining pair, calling upon one of his sorcerer spells before charging his hand up with positive energy and dashing straight towards another wraith, ramming his hand into the creature’s shadowy, incorporeal body and discharging all the energy of the Heal spell in there. He then cut through the mass of shadow with the Silver Sword and the creature was dispersed by the wave of the blade.
He turned to the last of the wraiths and prepared to utterly destroy it, but then he realized his earth elemental fell already. When he turned around, he only saw a flesh of necromantic energy before it hit him.
Xardas took a couple of Fingers of Death in his lifetime, but he never expected it could be fired at him by a creature without hands. Still, the Spirit Shaman was still alive until a few moments after that, when the creature’s powerful jaws swept him off the ground and crushed him between its fangs.

Or at least that’s what started happening and that’s what would happen if Xardas did not have certain powers that he could use quite instinctively and reflexively. In his ethereal form he jumped out of the creature’s sweeping jaws, his body already cut up and his bones in not exactly perfect state, and he moved to try and tactically take out them both.
Of course, the wraith, being incorporeal, detected him and started to move in his direction as Xardas begun to cast his unique spell.
Then, he appeared back into the Shadow Plane and the Nightshade easily detected him, moving towards him together with the dread wraith. As they closed in, he unleashed his Moonfire, and it destroyed the wraith in a heartbeat. But the Nightshade? No. It kept moving.
Xardas dodged to the side in the last moment, teeth still grazing his skin and the power of the beast’s movement throwing him a good couple of feet away, but he evaded death for now.

He had no idea what else he could do to slay the beast. He made it charge into the wall of flames he cast immediately and part of its body had to stay in it for a moment, and he immediately followed with a Flame Strike. The beast turned around and attacked again, this time Xardas rammed a Heal Spell into its side.
The beast turned around, its body twisting and shifting, as it once again prepared for an attack.
[*Mere mortal… Nothing but a snack… You will die soon… I’ll feast on your life…*]

So, the beast was smart and capable of complex thought. It just not always chose to do so, and for it, he was just a snack, not anything to talk to.
Xardas believed in the reciprocation of feelings and opinions, and as such, he decided to think of the creature as a giant meal.
And he preferred his meals well cooked.
As the creature prepared to strike once again, he called upon another Firestorm, the flames painfully scorching the beast’s “flesh” and finally, he thought, bringing it close to its end.
This might have been the hardest battle he thought ever since his clash with the King of Shadows, and he dared not ponder what would happen to him if the creature’s attacks were more accurate.
The firestorm subsided and the creature rapidly moved away from him, burying itself into the ground head-first.
He fired another Flame Strike before the tail disappeared, but soon after, he had no way to attack the creature.
Was it running away, or preparing a last-ditch effort to kill him?


Malacoda watched from afar as Maenaz started to undergo his new, forced training.
They undertook steps to make it easier for him, with Samael enhancing his mental capacity and learning ability – just as when he helped him fight Valsharess – and Veniseria doing the same to his overall sensitiveness and ability to predict.
Of course, the beginning would be extremely hard.

Malacoda was stunned when she learned what the ritual was going to be about. Sure enough, she was right about what would happen. Euryale could get her hands on any mortal man she wanted so far, regardless of how long it took and what measures needed to be taken.
And so, she got the warlock, too. Bad for him. Probably bad for the Universe as well, if she got *all* she wanted from him. Or was going to get it. However, he resisted for quite some time, and now, in the name of revenge on a city that hurt *his* woman, one that was already dead…
He did the unconceivable. Sacrificed his own eyesight. Looking at him, working to overcome his new limitation now, with a blindfold being the only thing hiding what he did to his eyes, Malacoda couldn’t help but think there may yet be something of worth in this man.
Regardless of which’s races worth one was talking about.


Maenaz, for his own part, was dreaded with how slow the progress was with him improving his ability to move and fight without his eyes. And yet, in a few days, he needed to do it. He needed to complete the deal, take the fey’s head to the city of Hopeless, and then, he would tell Samael his first wish.
Because Neverwinter had to suffer and despair, and Maenaz already knew of a few things that could make them feel just that.
And he was going to use that knowledge. Yes, he was going to attack from all possible sides and weaken Neverwinter before he took care of it personally.

Xardas looked around nervously. He could feel the earth moving under him, constantly, all the time, and that meant the creature was not running away. He rapidly covered himself with Greater Stoneskin just in case and tried to sense or see from where the creature would strike.
He managed to predict it when the beasts tail suddenly broke out from the ground, dodging, but when suddenly, far closer than he thought possible, and from the side no less, another part of monster appeared, throwing sand and rock all over the place, he only managed to get a quick glance at its jaws as they captured their meal.
He felt a sharp pain, and then, all light was put out.