Elminster in Hell
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Captured by a powerful demon, the Forgotten Realms legendary wizard is mprisoned in hell and tortured for his most prized and valuable possession-his mind. To resist means certain death, but to give in means absolute madness.
rose on one elbow and put a firm hand over Elminster’s mouth. “Stop dispensing twaddle and go to sleep,” she told him, not unkindly, and moved her hand to his chest, thrusting him back flat on the bed. He drew breath to protest as to the importance of what he’d been trying to say. She put her mouth down where her hand had been, thrust her tongue into his mouth, and said along its thrilling length, “Go to sleep, I said. Despite my provocations to the contrary.” That seemed like a good idea to
This is no attack, but I must know.” Choosing a spot on the outside of his forearm, she gently drew the gleaming knife along his skin. Blood welled forth, and then—a few sparks. The Srinshee breathed something, reaching with a finger. The silver radiance that burst from him sent her staggering back with a little cry, wreathed in flames. Elminster spun away, clapping his hand over the wound she’d made and stammering apologies. Weakly, from among rising tendrils of smoke and the ruins of her
he found Nergal. Hulking shoulders, barbed and mottled gray, tentacles stiff with still-fresh pain, great taloned hands fumbling blindly.… [Pain—fury of the Nine, what pain! So that was what goddesses could do … and deceitful wizards.…] Cautiously, El knelt. He called forth the tiniest amount of silver fire. With one fingertip, he traced a line on the worn and dusty stone. The line smoked as he seared his way across the floor of his memories, yielding yet more remembrances so as to keep well
arched gate of heavy iron. Its bars were as stout as his own forearms, and studded with blunt spikes. It looked like something made to hold dragons long ago. In the cross-passage beyond waited the lady servant. She tried not to look nervous as she shrank from two restless panthers, who pulled taut the rattling chains that held them. They leaned forward, licking their lips and staring hard at her. The other end of those chains was wrapped around the strong and hairy hands of a smiling man. Dark
didn’t spread to him, the Old Wolf was heartily glad when the room suddenly filled with stern-faced Tower apprentices. He was thrust aside in an instant, and the room erupted in tense castings and snapped orders and suspicious peering. Their health assured, Asper, Mirt, and Aleena were thrust into chairs in the most distant corner of the room and sternly bidden to wait and not stir. Just now, none of them felt like doing anything but sitting dazedly and letting the numb tingling die away. Young