Trigger Warning: Hell and Violence, graphic descriptions of icky bits.

My eyes snap open with a sharp gasp for air, my lungs aching and hungry.

A great roar envelops me, flooding every corner of my mind.

The world quakes.

I can barely see, surrounded by blurs of red and pink, and a white-hot pain splits my face.

I double over. My head cracks into something unyielding. The sound of the collision thrums in the air around me. I reach out, pressing against a surface that bends around me.

This is a vessel, and I'm inside.

My breath quickens as I feel the walls for an escape.

Nothing.

There is a warped glass lid in front of me. I press my back firmly against the pod and plant my foot on the glass, pressing until my bones ache. It doesn't budge. In frustration I punch the door, but my outburst only serves to split my knuckles open.

I press my hands against the blood smeared door and cry out. There is a cutting pain in my throat, and the sound of my wordless screams resonates back into my ears. A punishment. Waking only to be a witness to my demise!

...

The moment grows quiet.

Just beyond the warped glass, I recognize something. A pool of caustic fluid, cracked and spilling onto the ground. Illithid parasites writhe and die on the ground. Doomed without a host.

Tadpoles.

A memory comes into focus.

I have the key. I've had the key.
There is a worm behind my eye.

The churning of my stomach finally overwhelms me, and I dry heave, with nothing in my stomach to bring forth.
"Gods..."
My voice shakes, a hoarse whimper, like I haven't spoken in a century.

I have no time to pander to my disgust. I choke it down and close my eyes, focusing on the creature in my skull. My thoughts chase the sensation of its echoed memories like a hound on a hair. The resonance of our minds finally connects and I give the command.
Release.

It squeals and wriggles with pleasure, sending out a psionic pulse.

The door shifts open and I drop out, clinging to the ground, breath heavy. I cough and gag as spittle slides from my lips. My arms tremble trying to support the weight of my body.

A rush of hot sulfuric air blows my hair into my face, and the blank slate of my mind unveils a single word. Teifling. I sharply inhale and grip my horns, clinging to them as if they'd only existed in a fleeting dream.

Thank the gods. I'm a tiefling.

I rake my hair back between my horns and gain my footing.

I need to figure out what's going on...

I...

What is this place?

Why does it feel so damned familiar?

I stumble past the brine pool toward a strange sphincter. A profane door no doubt. My limbs are stiff and uncooperative, even my tail is fighting me, but the door squelches open and I stagger into a laboratory.

Alien atriums and stone tables are scattered throughout the chamber. I pick up a tablet and in an instant my mind is flooded with images of goblin history and culture. I know it all in an instant. My eyes go wide and I look around frantically, seeing a pile of tablets on a table at the far end of the chamber.

Knowledge is a violent weapon to hold.

As I make my way, something batters the ship and the tablets slide from the table out into an open corridor. With horror, I see the burning lakes of Avernus beckoning below. I lunge forward, only managing to grab one before the rest are lost to the hells.

The habits and history of the illithid race are instantly written into my mind.
But I knew about illithids. Why the hells did I know about illithids?

Gods. I'm hurtling through Avernus on an illithid war ship! A fucking Nautiloid.

I need to move.

A rippling sensation tugs at my consciousness and tries to hijack my mind. A burning fury rises, until I recognize it. An Intellect Devourer, an illithid thrall. Its thoughts echo in my mind, as if I've heard its words before they were spoken.

"Help Us!"

I climb to my feet and scan the chamber, sending a query back from my mind. "Where are you?" The tadpole in my brain writhes with pleasure and I gag and grip my knees.

"Chair. Hurry!"

Gathering myself, I see the aforementioned chair is on a platform just above me. I climb broken pieces of hull only to find the twitching body of a man strapped firmly into the seat. His eyes are shifting and possessed, skull cap removed. Abandoned mid-craniotomy.

His brain squeals and shivers inside his skull. "Savior! Please release me!"

My eyes travel over the exposed brain, and I plot the extraction. Swelling due to edema. The damned thing should have been removed hours ago. With no tools nearby I improvise, using my fingers for blunt dissection. Separating the cerebral tissue from the meninges lining. When I feel a satisfying shift, I pull the brain from its cranial prison. The tissue at the base of the cerebrum rips and pops between my fingers and a shiver runs down my spine. I let out an audible sigh and physically shudder, smiling softly.

I've been disoriented up until this point, but this vivisection has unlocked something profane in my heart. A voice hisses in my ears. C-crush. Cripple. Kill...

My fingers twitch as I look at my new friend. I quickly set it down; the impulse to tear it apart is unbearably compelling, but I need this creature.

"Can you navigate the ship?" My voice is starting to dip into a familiar soothing lull.

The creature sprouts four fleshy legs with padded skin-paws. It sits peacefully for a moment, communing with an unseen entity.

I loom over it, impatient but reserved. "Well?"

Its thoughts echo in my mind once again. "They are calling. Come with me. We must go to the helm."

I gesture onward. "Lead the way, friend. What do I call you?"

The creature taps its flesh paws excitedly. "Us. We are Us!"

A burst of flames arches through the cracks in the hull, grazing me.
"Fuck!"

A red dragon screams past; the ship is under attack by Gith raiders. Of course. The githyanki and illithids have been enemies for centuries.

I gather Us into my arms and leap onto the main floor. My ankles are battered by the force of the landing, but I manage to dash over to the open corridor and duck behind a wall.

In a moment of reprieve, I sprint across. To my left there is nothing but open sky and it tugs at me, a siren of my ruin. I propel myself forward with every bit of strength I have.

As the next chamber draws near, I am waylaid by a Githyanki woman in a flash of silver armor. She lands cleanly in front of me, her sword held high, her voice barely masking the rising panic within her. "Thrall! Your day has come!"

The young warrior holds her ground with impressive zeal. I lock eyes with her and appraise the moment. I'm unarmed and unarmored. But she's half my size, and still very green. Pun intended.

I'm going to go through her.

Her face falls as her grandstand doesn't slow me in the least. I give her a mocking grin, and in one fluid motion, I lower my head and catch her on my shoulder.

She snarls and flails. "Istik! Put me down!"

In that moment we hear a roar, and a burst of flames erupts behind us, biting at my heels.

I launch myself into the air to dodge the heat, landing hard on the chitinous ground. Lae'zel and Us go sliding out of my arms. The momentum has us careening toward a wide crack in the floor.

Us and I slip over the edge, and a chill runs through me as I feel myself drop. I catch the edge in a panic and reach out to snatch Us. It whips a tentacle skyward, and clings to me, mercifully. Us squeaks as it dangles over the hells. I pull it up, cradling it in my arm. Last thing I need is to lose my map.

The woman appears above us. I hold up Us toward her and she recoils. "I will not be handling that abomination!"

I grunt and begin to shake, feeling my hand slipping. "I swear on Bhaal's blood, if I fall because you won't take this brain, I will crawl my way out of the hells and strangle you!"

She stares at me and then curls her nose in disgust, gingerly taking Us from me. My arm free, I grip the edge and drag my carcass to safety. I take a moment to cling to the ground in gratitude.

A shriek pierces my ears and I glance up, seeing three charging imps. I grunt as I get to my feet. Hells' vermin come to feed on corpses only to find fresher meat. Us. I mean... us.

I hear the Gith woman yell a battle cry, as Us leaps from her arms and immediately swipes one of the imps with a gelatinous fury.

The Gith woman catches an imp on the edge of her blade and splits in two. The imp meat flies in my direction. I dodge it, only to be hit in the chest by the last charging imp.
Clawing, scratching, screaming.

I promptly rip its wings off. A feral pleasure ignites within me. My mouth begins to water as I hold the imp by the throat. It screams in agony, its ire collapsing into fear. I admire the creature for a moment before clamping my hand over its face and twisting until it stops moving.

With a heavy sigh I drop the broken toy on the floor.

My fingers twitch.

Us drops its imp with a lacerating swipe, but it's still wriggling on the ground. I place my bare foot on its belly and begin to press, feeling its body gradually rupture beneath me. A faint crackling driving up the base of my tail into the back of my neck. Gargled screams fade into blessed silence. I'm lost as I watch it slowly become undone.

The Gith woman marches up to me, snapping me out of my trance. "Enough playing, Istik, our time runs short!"

I blink and take a sharp breath in, reorienting myself. I've gotten distracted by indulgence. "Apologies." I rake my hair back once more and glance at her. "What's your name?"

She's thumbing through the belongings of one of the corpses. She gathers a few daggers and hands them to me. "Call me Lae'zel." She eyes me as I take them. "Perhaps now that you're armed, you'll remain focused on the fight."

Her tone is biting, but it's background noise to the weight of the knives in my hand. It feels like home, and I flip one in hand before hesitating. Do I know my name? Y-yes. "I'm Vash Neel." Saying it out loud feels like I'm reclaiming another piece of myself. It's jarring just how little I know about myself.

She gives a respectful nod and then moves. Us and I follow as she climbs some arterial mesh to the second floor of the nautiloid.

We enter a chamber with pods lining the walls. My ear catches the screams of a frightened woman. It rouses me. Strange. I quickly find her banging on the door of her pod, warding runes encircle her and connect to a console next to her.

Us suddenly feeds me the schematics of the ship. The helm is to the right, but my body lurches as my mind recognizes a chest in the chamber straight ahead. I run past the trapped woman, and her panic rises as she watches me leave her behind. Her desperation sends more of those addictive shivers and snaps down my back. It's starting to become erotic.

The chest sits bolted on a landing in the back of the chamber. I stumble up the stairs and throw the lid open. Thank the gods, my belongings. My eyes instantly glaze over and another memory bites at me. A husband's voice, cracked with jealousy. The smell of rotting flesh. A voice raised in anger. "Get him out!" My belongings thrown into this very chest. I can't help but scoff, I'm quite the home wrecker. I throw off the stinking blood-stained rags and dig into the chest.

Lae'zel runs up behind me before throwing her hands in the air. "What in the hells are you doing!? Put your clothes on! Are the people of this realm no better than beasts?"

I glance back at her, "Haven't you seen a naked man before?"

She blushes and turns her back to me.

I ignore her and pull my clothes out, quickly donning deep red woolen pants with leather gussets and a black hemp spun tunic. I lace my leather belt into place and slide my sabatons on. I pull out red strips of and wrap my hands with muscle memory, weaving them between my fingers and around my wrists for support, sliding iron plate bracers over my arms. My cloak lays in a pile at the bottom of the chest. I quickly snatch it up, pressing my face into it. Scent is so inextricably tied to memory. I inhale deeply, desperate to pull my past from its dregs. It gives me nothing. Only linseed oil and the scent of dusty roads, earthy, metallic, with a vague perfume of aged gore.

I hear something clang and look to see my greatsword. Hilt jagged, blade still sitting in its scabbard. I smell it again. Linseed oil. Paladin. I'm a Paladin! But I can't remember the nature of my oath. Yet another question that will have to wait. I throw my cloak over my shoulders. The weight of the wool is a comforting embrace. I feel safe again. It falls to the length of my shins, and I adjust the hood before strapping my scabbard to my back. I can begin again.

The ship jolts once again and we're thrown into the air before slamming into the ground from the landing. I hear the cries of the trapped woman once more. I stumble to my feet and rip past Lae'zel. The woman is doubled over, dark mail shining, fists feebly pounding on the door of the pod. She's another warrior, her resolve worn thin by her predicament. Her panic has waned, having settled into exhausted sobbing. "P-please!"

She's very lucky. Being useful is the price of my precious time. I attune myself to the console connected to her pod. I lock into the warding runes, forcing my will through them and shattering their hold on her. This woman wasn't just a victim; she was a prisoner. She's likely more dangerous than I realize. Exciting.

I commune with my tadpole once more and give the command. Release. It squirms in my skull. I lurch forward, gagging once again. The lid opens and she falls to the ground exhausted and shaking. Lae'zel and I give her space, waiting for her to compose herself. I offer my hand and she takes it, climbing to her feet and steadying herself. She catches her breath, makeup running, wiping her face clean as best as possible. "I thought... I thought I was lying in my coffin."

I put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright? They had you locked away like a weapon."

She scoffs, "You're closer to the truth than you know." Her eyes suddenly go wide, and she turns on her heel reaching back into the pod. She swiftly places a strange object in her satchel, then turns back to me, changing the subject in a clever use of misdirection. "Thank you for your rescue, but we're not out of it yet. Do either of you have a plan on how to get out of here?"

Lae'zel chimes in, impatient. "Yes! We must find the helm!"

The woman's face falls, and she becomes guarded but resigned. "She's right."

I smell the tension. The woman is coiled like a spring. She'll kill Lae'zel the moment it becomes necessary. May the strongest survive. "Come with us. I'm Vash Neel."

Her smile is sincere and grateful toward me. "Shadowheart."

Us squeaks with finality and we all hear its mind. To the helm!

We follow it through the final door, stepping onto the bridge and into utter pandemonium.

Hellsboar and imps scattered across the room, while a lone Mind Flayer is caught in a duel with a Cambion. At the very back of the bridge is the helm. Whipping tentacles float haplessly, waiting for direction. The illithid navigator is lying skewered in a pool of silver blood beneath them.

We're battle ready in an instant. Lae'zel charges the imp to my right, Us charges the imp to my left, and a hellsboar charging me with the fury of a burning inferno. Tusks flailing, molten skin seething with heat. I dodge the attack but quickly realize I'm not going to take down this beast without the aid of my powers. Do I even have any? I am effectively oathless. No conviction. No God that I can recall. It's time to put my purpose to the test. If I was empowered by conviction, beckoning for strength will yield nothing. If I was empowered by a God, I pray they haven't forgotten me and are merciful enough to fuel me once again. I calm my mind amongst the madness and reach my hand into the air.

The hellsboar has turned and is charging once again.

I am suddenly chilled and breathless, utterly drained of my essence, like I'm in the presence of death itself. The world is quiet, though the boar is bearing down on me. I am less than nothing.

Then a surge of energy rises from below and fills my blood with the power of something wild and acrid. Whispers in my head rise with chaos, and the crackling sensation that had been fleeting in moments of horror now fill me with a divine purpose. Murder. I have become bloodthirsty, feral, and unleashed. With an empowered force my sword cracks down onto the hellsboar's skull. It erupts in a burst of dark red light. Snaps and static surge through the air as the creature collapses and slides to a halt at my feet. My heart is racing, and I am filled with pleasure, searching for the next thing to kill.

I feel a cold silk ripple through the air as Shadowheart emanates with a power that comes from somewhere dark, forbidden, and incredibly potent. She's a cleric, and an unholy one at that. Her voice hits me with a coordinated directive, "Vash!" She points toward the cambion. "The sword!"

The long sword he's clutching is kissed with hells' flame, and streaks of light follow it with every swing. In an instant I understand what she means and begin to rush him.

"Impero tibi." She commands the sword from the cambions hand, but he holds fast, enraged by her attempt to make him drop it. Seeing his distraction, the mind flayer unleashes a burst of maddening psionic energy against the cambion's mind. He's instantly dazed and Shadowheart strikes again. "Impero tibi!" The sword drops from his hand, but he quickly recovers and ducks to retrieve it. I dive and grab the hilt out from under him, sliding past and out of reach. He begins to chase me, but the mind flayer lets loose another psionic blast and the cambion is nearly knocked off his feet. He turns and takes a swing at the Illithid with his bare fists, burning with fury.

I jump to my feet. "Lae'zel!"

She turns and sees me toss her the cambion's sword. In a split second she's forced to make a decision. She makes the right one—dropping her Githyanki Long Sword and snatching the hells' blade from the air. With one fluid motion she swings at one of the imps that had advanced on her. It crumples to the ground in a helpless pile, cauterized and smoking. Lae'zel stands, looking down at the dead imp, then shifts her gaze to her gith sword on the ground, lips straightened, brow furrowed. She quickly steps over it, moving in on the final hellsboar. Us is skittering next to Shadowheart toward the front of the bridge, not too far behind me. They take on the remaining imps, while I hear Lae'zel and her battle cry cutting into the hellsboar with a new resolve.

I trip and catch myself on the edge of the helm. A psionic instruction from the Mind Flayer hits me.

Connect the nerves.

I quickly connect them and pluck the threaded nerves. Reality blinks and everything goes dark. There is nothing, until the roar of rushing skies fades back into our senses. Hells' heat, red dragons, burning lakes, all of it gone. The cool air of Faerun kisses my skin, but the damage is done, and the nautiloid is going down. I grab hold of the helm and try to steer the ship into an even landing.

Turbulence throws me to the ground and my body slides across the floor. I reach to catch myself on the hull's edge but my fingers barely graze it. A final taunt of salvation before I slip into a free fall.

I can't help but feel like death should be a grand climax to life.

But who am I?

A man incapable of reflecting on his life in his final moments.

No blaze of glory, no champion's shroud.

Just another broken body, buried by the silt of time.

How embarrassing.