Hell Is Empty

Editor's Note: The following passage is excerpted from Brill Thorn's ethnography *The Party Starts in Hell!*, with the kind permission of the author. *** Q: Hey, so, listen - <i>I</i> know about demons, obviously, and I know you do, but maybe the reader *doesn't*, so - what are demons, again? A: Well! Demons are elemental creatures of earth. They have horns and tails and live a very long time and like collecting stuff and making stuff and writing very long, <i>very</i> detailed books about every imaginable and unimaginable topic. They usually have some ability to manipulate metal, stone, or other inorganic materials using elemental magic (not plastics or anything wholly synthetic, though). [[Q: Gotcha. So where did they come from? ->caldera]] [[Back|what you know]]

Q: Gotcha. So like where did they come from? A: From about as far south as you can go - it's very volcanic down that way. There was this caldera, see, filled with hot nasty volcanic mud, boiling away, and one day, some [[Folk(1)|what are folk]] fell in it while they were poking around. [[It sucked,->remade]]

It sucked, because their flesh was basically dissolved by corrosive liquid clay and their souls were trapped in this morass of hot goop, and got all tangled up with the elemental forces that swirl through the rocks and minerals and metals and other inorganic matter of the planet and after a great deal of thrashing and kicking, a couple of creatures made of clay and blood and bones and stuff crawled out of the caldera and stood at the rim trying to get their bearings. [[Some other Folk, ->this is cool]]

Now - that might have been the end of it, but once it was established that a radical personal transformation could be had by simply throwing yourself into volcanic mud, Folk of a certain mindset started jumping in on purpose. The population of demons grew, and some of them worked out how to have baby demons with each other, and so it was that they all lived long, prosperous, curious lives. [[Q: And still do?->until]]

Some other Folk, who were also poking around but who didn't fall in the mud saw this and, after they'd stopped screaming, introduced themselves and asked what was going on. The demons looked at each other and frowned - if you've just been invented it's difficult to know how to explain yourself - before saying "We used to be you. But now we're something else, and we think that something else is called demons, and we think it's actually [[very cool(2)|historians]] of us to be here." [[Now - that might have been the end of it,->it continues]]

demonKnowledge: true -- Q: And still do? A: Well - sort of. Kind of. It's very different nowadays, you understand. Q: I don't think I do. [[A: You soon will.|what you know]]

Okay. So. Demon society was just thriving and vibing and keeping it so right and so tight, and there were like, circles of demons who all liked hanging out together and doing the same kinds of stuff, and they were doing scientific research and arcane studies and inventing machines and writing poetry and making sculptures and dumplings and booze and swords and developing martial arts and teaching anybody who came to see them whatever it was they wanted to know and spreading knowledge and wisdom and tech and magic throughout the lands beyond. [[Research Destination ]]

Anybody who was really keen on doing advanced research on anything would journey down to Hell and study with demons. Demons would travel out into the rest of the world and teach and do research and occasionally get nasty with one of the Folk and start matrilinial lines of witches (Folk with demonic ancestry and the capacity to use magic).

One day, one of these demons got hired by a newly-unified kingdom north of the mountains, to tutor their young princess royal and bring her up to be a wise and great leader, who would carry a torch into a new age of prosperity and glory, and such like. The demon (the unfortunate Todak of Sen []) did their best. [[Terrible Princess]]

This was not good enough. The princess needed more, demanded more. Her natural lifespan wouldn't suffice, she had no capacity to wield magic or elemental forces, her orders could be disobeyed, plots could be made against her. She was becoming aware of the frailty of her flesh, and it disgusted her. [[Become demon?]]

The princess, however, was a horrible person. She liked the taste of power. She was very certain of her elevated position, and equally certain that it could stand to be elevated even further. She asked the demon what she could do in order to become the most powerful queen in the history of the world. Todak wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. They pointed out that technically, given that the princess was heir to the only monarchy going, she had already achieved her goal. [[Not Enough]]

“Well, your highness, I don't know if it would help, but if you seek a longer life and the capacity to wield magic, you could attempt to become a demon. Although I warn you – there's no way to ensure that you won't be wholly changed by the process. You will emerge from the caldera a different person, and that person may not have the same ambitions.” Or at least Todak hoped she would not have the same ambitions. [[become demon! ]]

The princess simply smiled like an endlessly deep crevasse and said “We consider this wise council. We shall start at once.” Which meant that two weeks later, she marched her scrawny little butt into the caldera full of mud that makes you turn into a demon and screamed a lot while her flesh was being dissolved and managed, through sheer unmitigated stubbornness and rottenness, to emerge as one of the most magically powerful demons that ever lived.

[[she 2]]

[[she 3]]

[[SHE]]

She then tried this magic on one of her tutors. They resisted momentarily, but were surprised enough that she broke past their defenses and spent an hour happily toying with them, working over their mind until she knew its every fold, puppeting them all over the room and shrieking with laughter. [[resist centralization]]

She drank up the knowledge catalogued over millenia. Some of that knowledge turned out to be quite dangerous. Her mentors were vaguely aware of the idea that people might use learning for evil, but they themselves wouldn't dream of it, and didn't dream that Sen Sakaneo would either. And it was in this way that they fucked up. [[can hardly fault]]

Now, demons, (bless them, bless their sharp little horns and their tufty little tails and their gnarly little teeth), are a bit of a naive bunch (you'd think they'd learn, what with living for a couple thousand years each, but they haven't). They'll tell you anything you want to know and a lot more besides, and so when Sen Sakaneo strode imperiously into the Great Library of Sen Czernathko (the Circle of Arcane Arts) and demanded to speak to the most powerful mages, she got exactly what she asked for. [[drank up knowledge]]

You can hardly fault them at the outset, but as Sen Sakaneo learned more and delved deeper and even started to hurt people just to see what would happen - at a point where you or I, short-lived creatures of flesh that we are, would say things were starting to get out of hand - the wisest demons of Sen Czernathko did nothing. “She's young,” they said “And youth is such a fruitful time of experimentation, who are we to stop her learning all she can? Who knows what wonders she might uncover?” [[curious beasts]]

She was thrilled at her success - that sort of manipulation is fantastically difficult, and usually knocks out the intended victim before they can actually do anything, but the student in question not only bent to her will, he also had no memory of what had happened once she had released him. The conference erupted into havoc, which Sen Sakaneo was only too happy to spread further. [[puppeted]] [[Havoc 1]]

[[Havoc 3]]

[[Havoc 2]]

[[Havoc 4]]

She named herself Sen Sakaneo (the Circle of Conquest), which was presumptuous of her because a Circle is not just one person, it's a shared identity held by many. But it seemed that her ambitions and her desire for power had stuck. [[she 1]] [[naive bunch]]

Because demons above all are curious beasts, and they will follow that curiosity straight off a cliff, as long as they think there might be something interesting at the bottom. [[Graduate student]]

One day, Sen Sakaneo wormed her way into the mind of a young Scale-folk graduate student who was attending a conference being held in Sen Czernathko. She made him beat another attendee half to death with a leather-bound treatise on geomagnetism. [[Havoc]]

Demons had, for millenia, resisted any form of centralized authority. They cared nothing for hierarchy, and despite being very organized in areas where it mattered, had generally avoided forming anything that could be called a government (despite studying every other extant form of government in exquisitely granular detail and inventing speculative new ones as a sort of party game). Sen Sakaneo was quite aware of this, but in her usual stubbornness decided that they were all just going to have to change their minds. [[mindsnare]]

A mindsnare (the sort of magic she had been practicing on hapless scholars) is one thing if you're trying to use it on somebody who doesn't know what's happening. Confusion (or revulsion, as the case may be) serves as a natural defense against it – if you're hit with a sudden desire or line of thought you can't explain or that disturbs you, you're liable to investigate it, and in so doing the snare will break apart unless the caster can use enough brute force to keep it in place. [[ensnare itself]]

However, as Sen Sakaneo was about to determine, it is quite another thing if your intended victim knows – or, crucially, thinks they know – what's going on. If the mind thinks it knows the score, it will ensnare itself. [[gathering of scholars]]

[[Havoc]]

Somebody asked her what she meant, because of course they thought seriously about it, and she said yes of course they did, really they knew more about the world over the mountains that almost anybody who lived there, and wouldn't it be of remarkable value if they spent more time actively propagating the knowledge they had gathered? [[knowledge imparts responsibility]]

Ten minds of tremendous depth and ingenuity, yet untouched by cynicism, who believed that they would be able to determine the Right Thing to Do no matter what. [[ten curious]]

If they ventured out into the wider world and used their considerable expertise to actively teach others how they might better their own lives? Really, she said, it would be almost wrong not to. Knowledge imparts responsibility, after all, [[who knows more?]]

She started at a small gathering of scholars, talking about the fascinating works on government one of her guests had written, and positing some ideas about how the demons might conduct their affairs if they were more externally focused – that is, if they started to think seriously about what lay beyond the bounds of their own world. [[we know better]]

and who in the world knows more than we do? [[trap sprung]]

She didn't push the matter any further, but the trap was already sprung ,with ten of the most learned people in the entire world caught fast within it. [[ten minds]]

Ten curious beasts [[fast way down]]

determining the fastest way to get to the bottom of a very high cliff.

twoPaths: true -- [if demonKnowledge] [[This is what you know about|fucked up/evil]] demons. [else] This is what you know about [[demons.|what are demons?]]

[if twoPaths] You know that [[one day, long ago, they fucked up.|they fucked up]] or, You know that [[one day, long ago, they turned to evil|they turned evil]] [[Proceed|how true]] [else] You know that one day, long ago, they fucked up. or, You know that one day, long ago, they turned to evil. [[Proceed|how true]]

You don't how true any of this is. or You believe this with all your heart. [[Proceed|now]]

{reveal link: 'Now:', passage: 'are you a demon'}

Are you a demon? >[[I am|demon route start]] >[[I am not|folk route start]]

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config.style.dark.page.color: "cinnamon-1 on cinnamon-6" config.style.dark.page.link.active.color: "cinnamon-2 on cinnamon-5" config.style.dark.page.link.active.lineColor: "" config.style.dark.page.link.color: "cinnamon-2" config.style.dark.page.link.lineColor: "indigo-1" config.style.page.color: "cinnamon-6 on cinnamon-1" config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/serif 18" config.style.page.link.active.color: "cinnamon-5 on cinnamon-2" config.style.page.link.color: "cinnamon-5" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "indigo-6" -- Are you: Lacking in bedside manner Politic, cautious, and meticulous Solidarity forever [[Protecting your family->shopkeep]] Twitching the curtains A flying shuttle [[back|are you a demon]]

demonPersona: 'wornTool' -- You were put on a train. A ticket to a place called Atwood was pinned to your robe, and you were handed a rough knapsack and a parcel of food. Nobody said anything about your cough. It’s gotten steadily worse. As you sit on the floor of the stifling waiting room in this country junction station, it’s shaking the very windows. You try to muffle it in your sleeve, but it’s no good, and you’re gasping for breath and feeling a horrible wetness claw its way up from your lungs. Your vision blurs- And then clears, and the stern eyes of the (older?) Folk (woman? The Folk have these things called genders, don’t they?) who was sitting in the other corner of the waiting room is staring unblinkingly into yours.\ “That's a serious cough. Did it bring anything up?” she asks you, in heavily-accented Vulgar Demonic.\ You stare for a moment before more-or-less clearing your throat and rasping “I'm fine, I'm sorry for the noise.”\ She snorts.\ “You are not fine, my dear, if I heard a Folk cough like that I'd start calling their relatives to get the funeral planned. Let me see your sleeve.” *Do you?* >[[Yes|toolChoice1Yes]] >[[No|toolChoice1No]]

“That’s fifteen.”\ “What, again?”\ “Ten pfennig to me, I think.”\ “How’ve you got fifteen *again?”*\ “Having a good run at this game, eh?”\ “A laugh at my expense, is what you’re having.”\ “Oh, never, never! Can’t afford to make enemies yet, we’re still two hours from Atwood.”\ “You see what they’re doing, don’t you?”\ Nothing.\ “Hey - you, you see what they’re doing, don’t you?”\ Nothing.\ “Oh, let them be, they’ve got better things to-”\ “You! In the corner! I know you can hear me! Look at this. Every time they shuffle, they get fifteen in three hands. I know they’re cheating.”\ “So?”\ “You shuffle for them next time, I’ll prove it.”\ “I’m not good at shuffling.”\ “Good, you won’t cheat, then.”\ “I’m trying to read.”\ “And I’m trying to not go broke.”\ “Stop playing, then.”\ “Well I can’t stop *now*, there’s five marks to win back.”\ “Five marks isn’t *that* much.”\ “It isn’t *nothing!*” You crack one of your eyes open, just enough to survey the other occupants of your compartment in this swift electric train that is reeling off the last miles of your journey. The Folk who’s losing is next to you, the feathered crest on their head standing straight up, the other two are on the seat opposite. The Folk who’s winning has a toothy grin and a tail that hasn’t stopped twitching side to side for the entire journey. Their ears are their biggest tell, but the losing Folk hasn’t figured that out yet. The Folk who’s just trying to read is jammed into a corner, hunched in their oversized coat with the book (you can’t read the title but the characters on the cover don’t seem to know whether to kill or kiss each other) on their lap. They have short, stubby horns and big eyes, and their hooves don’t quite touch the floor. You can smell their discomfort. Your eyes are closed again, and you venture a few words.\ “I can shuffle, if you think it might be more fair.”\ Nothing but the rattle of the train for a few moments. It occurs to you that you hadn’t yet spoken aloud since the journey started. Your seatmate speaks first.\ “Well - now that might just work.”\ “*Blind* justice, eh? Ha!” You open all five of your eyes. You hadn’t done that yet, either. The winning Folk flinches and pins their ears back. The reader is trying not to stare, and your seatmate’s crest is slowly falling as they try to look as small as possible. Do you seek belonging? >[[Yes->priestessYes]] >[[No->priestessNo]]

It’s been six days since the earthquake. Everything is more or less put back together (the roof has gotten slewed about, but the stone walls did their job and it seems the biggest loss was a jug smashed in the kitchen). The remaining repairs will need to wait for after laundry day, and you’re hanging linens in the courtyard to dry. You hear paws pounding on packed dirt - your daughter is back from checking on the flock - but when you look up, there is pure terror on her face, and she’s gasping for breath. She clings to you for a long moment. You press her tight to your chest, tapping out a count on her back to get her to breathe deeply. When she finally pulls away, what she signs is exactly what you feared. *** The pillar of smoke on the horizon has ebbed since the earthquake, but it still cuts the sky in two and leads your eye right down to the crumpled figure. The breeze is at your back, so the stench takes time to reach you - sulfur, ozone, rot, burnt flesh and hair. You stop short, laying your ears back. The demon is laying in the grass by the stream that splits the lower pasture. The sheep are keeping their distance and staying quiet, although some have bared their tusks. Kine[[(1)->kineFootnote]] is ragged and bloody - old blood, some black, some ruddy, dried and soaked into what must have been extraordinarily beautiful clothes. Alive. Or close to it. Kine raises kine’s head, looking at you with three black eyes and the nasty scarred remains of a fourth. Kine says nothing. Two of kine’s remaining arms are clutching an oblong bundle of green silk, the third is limp on the ground. Your daughter is trying to hide behind you. She’s eleven and fearless, usually, but her whole childhood has been punctuated with news of this or that village or band getting their homes raided, grazing land burnt, sheep stolen, driven out to make way for outposts and forts. The thirty miles between you and Hell has only gotten shorter. You can’t suppress a growl, because you hate the thought that is pressing against your temples - you have your knife. This could end right here. It might even be a kindness, for something so far from where it should be. Does your knife stay sheathed? >[[Yes->shopkeepYes]] >[[No->shopkeepNo]]

[you and your daughter walk as far from the farmhouse as you can in half a day. You leave the sword, wrapped up again, under an outcrop of walk] [you're afraid to look over your shoulder the entire way home] [[Make another choice->are you a demon]]

2. This was met with inital skepticism, but historians have generally arrived at the consensus that it was, in fact, actually very cool (until it wasn't). {embed image: 'https://the-satanic-mechanic.neocities.org/images/cool_demon2.jpg'} Fig. 1 {embed image: 'https://the-satanic-mechanic.neocities.org/images/cool_demon.jpg'} Fig. 2 *Figs. 1-2- A Demon Having a Cold One, photos by Brill Thorn* [[Back|this is cool]]

twoPaths: false -- A ruthless and cunning Princess, who ought never to have become a demon, ensnared the minds of those who had welcomed her into their fold, controlling them and consolidating power. Though they could have stopped her, their curiosity about what she was capable of blinded them to her true purpose. Standing over broken body of one of her tutors, she declared herself to be the True Empress of Hell, and named herself Sen Sakaneo, which in the Demonic tongue means The Circle of Conquest. She turned Hell a from loose collective into a rigid autocracy, and began to invade the lands around it. She began creating armies, both military and industrial, and spoke of the need for demons to exercise dominion over the whole continent. She devised a new language, Imperial Setana, and instigated a kind of cultural revolution, with predictably bloody results. While all this was going on, she began to seek ways of drawing ever more elemental power from the earth, intent on channeling it to make her armies invincible, and herself omnipotent. {embed image: 'https://the-satanic-mechanic.neocities.org/images/ash_clouds_2.jpg'} But the earth is nobody's servant. Pushed too far, it will rebel, and that rebellion will come in the form of flames, smoke, devastation, and death. Like all apocalypses, this will be both localized and survivable, and like all apocalypses, it will leave one question in the minds of those left: [[Is survival a gift?|fucked up/evil]]

twoPaths: false -- A Princess of the Folk, who had traveled to Hell in order to learn to be a wise ruler, was beguiled by her teachers into becoming a demon. Her teachers had ambitions - to turn Hell from a loose collective into a unified nation that could mount an imperial conquest. The pinnacle of this unification was Sen Sakaneo, True Empress of Hell. Whatever was left of the Princess’s soul had been hammered into a blade of avarice, of conquest, and of control. She quickly outpaced even the plans of her former teachers, and soon had the entirety of Hell firmly in her grasp. The old alliances, trade routes, and knowledge exchanges were broken one by one, replaced with raids to the north of Hell, laying waste to the countryside and pushing the Folk who lived there off their lands. Pillars of smoke rose from huge factories churning out weapons and war machines, Sen Sakaneo’s alchemists working night and day to create new horrors both living and inanimate. Even in the far north of the continent, polities began to fear the war that seemed almost inevitable. What little word came from Hell was only of invasion, dominion, subjugation - an entire world in the palm of the Empress’s hand. {embed image: 'https://the-satanic-mechanic.neocities.org/images/ash_clouds_3.jpg'} But instead of war came an earthquake. Instead of invasion came a volcanic eruption on a scale previously unimaginable. It was followed shortly by rumors - the Empress had been cut down by her own guards, she had been undone by her own magic and killed by sheer elemental power, some shred of the Princess’s soul had rebelled and driven her to madness and ruin. [[Who was to say what was true, with everything that came before?|fucked up/evil]]

toolChoice1: 'yes' -- You say nothing, but you don’t move. The Folk plucks up the loose fabric (despite being nearly seven feet tall the robe is still hanging off your frame) and examines the wet, viscous stains with a narrowed eye. They are, for the most part, black and thick and shiny as tar. “Not a good sign.” The Folk lets your sleeve fall and meets your gaze again. “How long has it been like this?”\ “I – why?”\ “I'm a doctor. Dr. Sela Anju, actually, I'm sorry I didn't start with that. And I’m she, if that helps.”\ “Oh - I - it's fine, I'm – it's been like this for months. Everybody from the Fourth Circle's like this.” This entire sentence is punctuated with coughing.\ “Tch!” Dr. Anju springs up and goes to root through her luggage. You retrieve your pipe, which had clattered across the floor when you first started coughing, and frown at it before putting it away in your knapsack. Dr. Anju returns with some very clean objects. She squats down in front of you.\ “Right. When was your last examination?”\ “Um - last calibration date - uh-”\ “Medical examination, I should say,” she clarifies, which doesn’t help. Eventually you ask “What does that mean?” She gets up and walks around the room for a moment. You probably said something wrong. She returns, muttering in another language. “I’ll need you to take off your robe, just to the waist, and turn towards the wall.” Ah. You *did* say something wrong. You do as she asks and grit your teeth. Something cold presses against your lower back, just to the left of the ridge of matted hair that runs from the base of your skull to the base of your tail. A hand thumps you in a few other places. “Breathe in, please.”\ You do. This is not going how it usually does.\ “Hold it, that’s good, and let it out.”\ The cold thing moves.\ “In again, please.”\ The hand presses into the back of your neck, then taps both your horns.\ “Out, thank you.” When your robe is back on and you’re facing her again, she’s frowning.\ “Temperature’s normal, pulse is very weak, and your lungs sound like custard in a drain. Were you close to the eruption?”\ You look down.\ “Only a mile. I got caught in the ash cloud, there . . . there weren't many of us who made it out.”\ “Hm. That could explain it. At the least you’ve got pneumonia, at the worst you’re hemorrhaging. But you’re still alive, so that’s something. Can you explain the scarring on your back?”\ “Calibration tests.”\ Dr. Anju slaps the floor and swears. You *really* said something wrong this time. Dr. Anju straightens up again.\ “What's your name[[(1)->wornToolFootnote1]]?”\ You hesitate.\ “I - ”\ “If you’re still working that out, I’ll call you Friend[[(2)->wornToolFootnote2]] for the time being.”\ “Ah.”\ “Let me see this tag - ah. Atwood. Shipping you off to the end of the line, there’s Coalition planning for you. Do you have a host family when you get there?"\ You shake your head. “They said there’s other refugees there but -” you take a moment to cough heavily again “-that was all they told me.”\ “Well that won't do at all.” Dr. Anju puts her tools away and disappears from the waiting room. Everything that’s happening is completely familiar, except you haven't been pulled off your machine and sent off to be brought within tolerance. Which could still happen. You're suddenly not sure that you're safe in here. Do you stay in this room? >[[Yes|wornToolYesYes]] >[[No|wornToolYesNo]]

toolChoice1: 'no' -- The Folk reaches for your sleeve, and you try to move away. They are undeterred, and you raise your other hand to push them back. You don’t have much strength left, but it’s enough. “Honestly, don’t put up such a fuss - I’m a doctor, not a monster,” they say, and go for your sleeve again. [She introduces herself (Dr. Sela Anju), which doesn’t help - what does she want with you??? Your efforts at fending her off get you thrown out of the waiting room. You’re scared now.] [you go hide in the freight shed further down the station platform] [a freight train pulls in and stops to wait for a signal] [maybe this is your chance] [do you get on it?] >[[Yes|wornToolNoYes]] >[[No|wornToolNoNo]]

When the train finally leaves, with a snort and a jolt almost and rough as your cough, Dr. Anju has brought you into a compartment. She’s settled herself on one of the seats - she’s small enough to lay down flat - and you’ve settled on the floor, cross-legged, facing towards the corridor with a cushion the doctor produced from her luggage behind your back. As the endless fields and telegraph poles go by, and you get used to the gentle swaying of the carriage, you find that a large wicker-wrapped jug has been thrust into your lap. “You'll want to drink that,” says Dr. Anju. “Not too quickly, but it'll help you sleep if you can finish it. And I don't doubt you're dehydrated anyhow.” You sniff at the jug and stick out your tongue - it’s pungent and herbal and strange. But orders are orders, and you take a careful swig. It’s not so bad. You take another, deeper, draft. Not so bad at all, really. You set the jug aside, fold your arms, and close your eyes. [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

You freeze. You’re so confused. What does the Doctor think you are, anyway? Dr. Anju starts to speak again, but the guard interrupts to beckon you into the van, shaking their head. There’s space in a corner between a couple of hampers, and you sit cross-legged, hunched forward. Something thunks down next you - a large jug wrapped in wicker - and Dr. Anju with it. The guard is arguing with the doctor, pointing at you, and then wincing as she lays into them, poking them in the chest with a finger. You stare at the scuffed floorboards. The train starts with a whistle and a jolt. There’s a finger under your chin, pulling your head up.\ “This young lady is being kind enough to let me ride with you.”\ “No,” you plead.\ “Hmph! You listen to me, Friend. I’m a doctor, and even if I hadn’t trained in the Seventh Circle back in the old days, I’ve got a duty to care for all others. And if there’s more like you in this bad of shape, then I’m going to do what I can for all of them, and that’s that.” You can take an order. The jug is uncorked. “Drink this. Slowly, mind you, but all of it. You're dehydrated, and it'll help you sleep." You sniff at the jug and stick out your tongue - it’s pungent and herbal and strange. But orders are orders, and you take a careful swig. It’s not bad. You take a deeper draft. You lean against one of the hampers, and fall asleep. [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

1.\ The naming of demons is quite a complex matter, the details of which can and have filled several books (most notably *Llanilly's Comprehensive Guide to Demonic Nomenclature, 12th Edition, with Appendices on Contemporary Usage*). It is not uncommon for individual demons to have parentage and be given a name by those same parents (in the sense that Folk might understand it), but for those that are spawned or hatched or smelted, naming is much more perfunctory. Having a name comes in useful so you have a *designation*, and it is not so much an identity as it is a way to avoid saying “Hey you, no not you, no not you either” twenty times a day. Kozhna Aden was hatched in Sen Sinella and named after the tier her nest occupied and the hour and month of her birth. She was the first of five from the nest, her younger nest mates being christened as Nathna Eden, Llena Eden, Akana Eden, and Nodna Eden. She was not, at that time, *she*. It would be two centuries yet before demons would be bothered with such a thing as gender, and for those two centuries she and all the other inhabitants of the demon lands would simply use the pronoun *kine*. Kine chose to stay in Sen Sinella (which was known to outside scholars as the Second Circle, or the Circle of War), in which martial arts of every description were tried and tested, great strategic minds were honed, and war games of breathtaking scope were played out. Kozhna Aden studied the blade and became, over the decades, one of the greatest sword fighters Hell had ever known. The blacksmith Eth Aka was wrenched from a smelting pit and given the equivalent of the name “fifty-seven”, as well as the pronoun “he” and the assignment to make metal into things until he was either dead or they found a better use for him elsewhere. This was in the wretched age of Sen Sakaneo, True Empress of Hell, where blacksmiths were all made as men, and men were all quite cheap. {back link}

1. The creatures that inhabit the Continent. {embed image: 'https://the-satanic-mechanic.neocities.org/images/continent%20map.jpg'} A varied lot, some with fur, some with scales, some with feathers, all with tails. Outside observers might describe them as "humanoid, with animal attributes (Twoflower et. al., 117)", and they might describe each other as [["quite ordinary, really".|caldera]]

You hold out your hand for the cards. You don’t have to wait for them to be placed in it. [shuffles, plays cards, asks questions] [looks at the Folk (name, he/him) who was almost certainly cheating more than the others] [get enthralled, idiot] Do you seek belonging? >[[Yes->priestessYesYes]] >[[No->priestessYesNo]]

You let them all stew for a moment before closing your eyes and resuming your aloof posture. You’ve had the intended effect. This squabble is none of your concern, and these two are very poor material. [let some time pass] [they start playing cards again] [start sneaking looks at the Reader (name, he/him) - potentially a tasty little fish, potentially a useful little thing] [speak to the Reader alone - express an interest in their book, try and ease their discomfort] Do you seek belonging? >[[Yes->priestessNoYes]] >[[No->priestessNoNo]]

It’s not long in conversation with the Reader that you decide he’s not worth your time. Cowering, shivering little thing. You are almost moved to pity, but you settle for polite interest. If nothing else he’ll help pass the time in conversation. The other two are still playing, and the Folk with the crest is still losing. Silly creatures. [end of the line, on the platform. Where to, now?] [you see a fellow demon, who looks much the worst for ware, sitting on a bench looking at the ground. Wretched doesn’t begin to describe them, but they’re your own kind, and despite yourself you’re glad to see them] Do you seek belonging? >[[Yes->priestessNoNoYes]] >[[No->priestessNoNoNo]]

Well - he’s not much, but he’s a start. The other two are hardly worth bothering with. You can get a long way with a card sharp. [at the end of the line, on the platform, you see a nice-looking bar, and in a moment of inspiration, you say with the card sharp’s borrowed tongue “listen - no hard feelings, let me buy you both a nice drink, eh? Best thing after being bounced around in a train for hours.”] [you enter the bar - the other two Folk have grudgingly accepted. Well, never mind them, they’ll leave as soon as they can. Lots of other little fish to try and catch] Do you seek belonging? >[[Yes->priestessYesNoYes]] >[[No->priestessYesNoNo]]

Well - that’s one. He might not be much, but he’s a start. The other two Folk in your compartment seem to react to him strongly - you can use this. [you can ensnare the one with the crest easily - he’s a little too easily obsessed. That’s two] [you try for the Reader as well - more resistance here] Do you seek belonging? >[[Yes->priestessYesYesYes]] >[[No->priestessYesYesNo]]

Oooh he’s delicious. You’re the first person all day who’s talked to him without seeming to want something other than to know him. You’re in the folds of his brain before he even realizes how long you’ve been looking at him with every eye. [end of the line, standing on the platform with the Reader] [as fun as it was, now you’re here and you’re not sure what to do with him] Do you seek belonging? >[[Yes->priestessNoYesYes]] >[[No->priestessNoYesNo]]

[the two other Folk from the train leave the bar as soon as it’s polite, but the card sharp is working the crowd and even though you’re not talking to anybody, you can feel an increasing number of people looking your way. Good .::)] [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

[the two other folk leave as soon as it’s polite, but you and your card sharp linger. Every other eye in the place seems to slide off you in your corner booth, as you slowly unravel him] [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

[you’re in Atwood and two of the folk follow you without realizing it. The Reader watches this unintentional procession with suspicion. Perhaps you will need to deal with him later.] [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

[Since this is the reader’s home city, you ask if he can recommend a place to say, perhaps show a stranger the lay of the land? He nods. He’s led you to his home before he even knows what he’s doing.] [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

[You approach the demon and say “have you been left behind, neosha?” They stare at you. “I’m traveling with someone,” says the demon “But I don’t know where to go next. She’s trying to figure out where we’re being kept.” Pathetic. Dependent. Not worth your time. You walk away. They will come to you, in time, and in time, they may be useful. But you have no need for such poor material. Alone once again, you vanish into the gathering darkness.] [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

[You approach the demon and say “have you been left behind, neosha?” They stare at you, but you open three of your eyes and pour comfort and trust into theirs. “I’m traveling with someone,” says the demon “But I don’t know where to go next. She’s trying to figure out where we’re being kept.” Ah yes, you had heard there would be others. And if this poor creature before you is any indication, they will be in need of so many things. One of those things will be you .::)] [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

[Some fish you simply have to let go. You break your hold on the Reader as soon as you’ve left the station, stopping to one side of the moving crowd and letting him be swept along with it. He doesn’t look back, and you’re glad of that.] [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

[you’re in Atwood and the Folk are following you without realizing it. Three little lights trailing in your wake. Nothing like the blazing brightness you could command before, but a bonfire starts with sparks. There is much work to do.] [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

You sign to your daughter. “Go find Papa and Auntie and the headwoman. Tell them to bring a stretcher.” *** The barn of the headwoman’s house is where these kinds of meetings usually happen. [the headwoman speaks a little Vulgar Demonic, which the demon won’t speak in return. It is watching you sign to your daughter, though, and catches your eyes for the briefest moment, making a hesitant gesture. You must have looked scared, because it turns away.] [the shepherds and villagers are scared and confused] [your partner isn’t sure what to say to you] [the demon won’t die, but it won’t talk much either and doesn’t want to be found] [it has been strongly suggested by an official-looking stranger that any demons found should be brought to a camp. In fact, the village has been invited to join the Coalition of polities.] [either way it’s trouble from outside - but the trouble is either one demon who so far hasn’t posed a threat, or a representative from a northern polity who might get Ideas about the prairies (villages cooperate but there is no chieftain or king or whatever)] [since you were the first adult who made contact, there’s a lot of weight in your decision] Is keeping the demon worth the trouble? >[[Yes->shopkeepYesYes]] >[[No->shopkeepYesNo]]

You sign to your daughter. “Go find Papa. I’m staying here.” When she’s out of sight, you consider what you’re about to do. Death is no stranger out here. You’ve hunted, you’ve slaughtered. You can do this. You should do this. Nobody would do any different, after everything the demons have done to them. Kine is struggling to get up. Your knife is out. You make your move. It’s over in a second. And when you come to, you’re alone in the pasture with a broken wrist and blood dripping down your face. *** Your husband insisted on seeing the headwoman, who is now setting your broken wrist and singing a prayer very quietly. Apparently the slash across your face wasn’t too bad. The stitches hurt anyway. When she’s done, she gives you a cup of astringent tea to drink, and signs to your daughter to ask exactly what happened. “I was catching lizards, but something stank so bad I thought one of the sheep was dead, so I went up the stream to find out. Kine was on the ground.” “Did kine speak?” “No. A little? I didn’t understand kine.” “Did kine try to hurt you?” “No, kine was just laying there.” “And then?” “I ran to find Dad and we went back, and then he sent me to find Papa. And when we got back, Dad was alone and beat up.” The headwoman folds her arms and closes her eyes. “A man rode through here two days ago,” she says. “Very official kind of man, in a uniform, though of course I didn’t recognize him, but he said he was looking for demons.” “Hunting them?” your husband asks. He’s been mostly looking at the floor, sheathing and unsheathing his claws, like he does when all he wants to do is run. “Rounding them up, if nothing else. There’s a Coalition, apparently, trying to find refugees from Hell for resettlement, and we’ve been asked to report any demons we see.” “Coalition of who?” “Mostly northern polities. Grenskruis is taking the lead, that’s apparently where he was from, but they’ve pulled in Kaczurin and Siliguri and a few others I’d never heard of. They’re camped by the river a few miles off. Easy to contact. If we need to.” “If they’re attacking unprovoked like this, we don’t have much choice, do we?” spits your husband. The headwoman’s gaze is off you for a moment and you let out a breath. “We always have a choice, Chua. But if Jess is the one who’s wronged, it’s up to them.” The headwoman cocks her head to look at you, the rings on her antlers jingling slightly. “So what should we do?” she asks. You drink your tea and try not to give anything away. [basically - if you report this officially, your family might get Involved in something. But the village will have to be told one way or the other] Will you report the demon to the Coalition? >[[Yes->shopkeepNoYes]] >[[No->shopkeepNoNo]]

The report is made and the demon goes willingly with the official looking man. It’s generally agreed that this was the right choice and everything will go back to normal. Within your family, though, there is a secret. When the decision was made, and when the headwoman told the demon, she spoke for the first time. She said her name was Kozhna Aden, and that the green bundle she had been clutching was to go to the girl who found her, to be kept safe. When you and your daughter unwrapped it (on the floor of the porch, Auntie wouldn’t have the stained cloth on any of the tables), you found the broken remains of a sword. Your daughter touched it and recoiled. You ran a hand along the pommel and felt a jolt of pure terror and fury strike you like lightning. Nothing you could name, nothing you could put words to, but as you looked at your daughter you shared something beyond words. This sword was used to kill something incomprehensible, something dark and violent and capricious. And now it’s on your porch and apparently in your care. Does it belong here? >[[Yes->shopkeepYesNoYes]] >[[No->shopkeepYesNoNo]]

Two weeks have passed. The demon has given you her name (Kozhna Aden) and seems to be picking up sign language quickly, so you’re making progress there. The bundle of green silk has stayed wrapped and you have left it alone, the demon will not tell you about it. She is very strong and wants to be useful, but also shrinks into corners. You’re not sure what to make of her. Your daughter is invested in teaching her to sign and tells her all sorts of things about goats and the world. Your husband and Auntie aren’t sure. Things are difficult with them. One day, the demon tells you that they feel they should leave, move on somewhere else. You feel the same strange tension you did when you first saw her. Life would be easier if she was out of it. But you see the haunted look in her eyes, and the way she shrinks when she says she should leave and you see all that you can’t see about her. Can she belong here? >[[Yes->shopkeepYesYesYes]] >[[No->shopkeepYesYesNo]]

[the man from the Coalition comes to your house. You’re not the only one to have sighted this demon and you are deputized in tracking it down. The policy is not to be antagonistic, but tensions are high and apparently this demon was Important and might be dangerous] [You are in the party that corners the demon. You are alone with it. You have a choice to offer protection or violence] Do you offer violence? >[[Yes->shopkeepNoYesYes]] >[[No->shopkeepNoYesNo]]

[you hide the sword beneath the floorboards] [sometimes it whispers to you] [[Make another choice->are you a demon]]

[your husband and Auntie don't approve, and it takes time for sleeping arrangements to be found] [Kozhna is restless and prone to wander, but after a while the sheep get used to her, and there's nothing out here that she couldn't protect them from] [the sword is hidden beneath the floorboards] [she taps the wood above it every morning with her foot] [[Make another choice->are you a demon]]

[the walk to the Coalition camp is quiet] [the walk back, with just you and your daughter, is even quieter] [[Make another choice->are you a demon]]

[you're no match for the demon, just like before] [they don't knock you out this time] [but as you lay on the ground, disarmed, they place the side of their remaining left hand against their lips in a salute] [you never see them again] [[Make another choice->are you a demon]]

[Your voice shakes] [but you raise it] [the look your daughter gives you breaks your heart and you knew that would happen] [but even as the voices of your neighbors rise again, you know that, whatever danger the demon is in, they won't be adding to it] [[Make another choice->are you a demon]]

[this has gone on too far] [you throw down the short sword you've been carrying] [you decided to make this a problem, and you're going to live with that] [the demon lowers the broken half of a sword they're holding] [You hold out your paw, and look the demon in the eyes] [[Make another choice->are you a demon]]

[the search party eventually corners the demon, who is weak and terrified] [They seem to accept their fate gracefully] [you have them buried near your home, close to the graves of your ancestors, and marked with a split stone] [as time goes on, you find yourself sitting by the split stone more and more often] [[Make another choice->are you a demon]]

[the village has a conference in the headwoman’s barn. The question of whether defense is necessary comes up - is this demon dangerous? After all, it attacked you out of nowhere! Things are getting heated. You don’t want to admit that you made the first move - it might alienate you from people, how would your daughter look at you? But there’s something about the way the demon is being talked of that twists your gut - this is no animal, hearing your justifications from the outside is sickening. What will you risk? Do you speak up? >[[Yes->shopkeepNoNoYes]] >[[No->shopkeepNoNoNo]]

tries: tries + 1 -- [[No.->notright]]

[if tries === 5] [[You know the answer.->thisisright]] [if tries <5] [[This is not the answer.->tries]]

yes and you'll never say no again

tries: 1 -- [[I am offering you the chance to reconsider->tries]]

You decide to take your chances and jump on the train. You’re also not sure how that would work - you’ve been handled like freight this whole time, and making your own decisions feels like growing a third arm. The guard of the freight train catches you staring around, reads the tag pinned to you, and shakes their head. They point you back towards the waiting room. And now Dr. Anju has found you and explains that this train isn’t going to Atwood, but if you’ll just stay put and let her look after you, she’ll make sure you get there. Now there are two irritated Folk looking at you. This sucks. Do you go with Dr. Anju? >[[Yes->wornToolNoYesYes]] >[[No->wornToolNoYesNo]]

[you stay where you are] [you eventually get found by, unexpectedly, another demon] [She greets you in the customary way - side of left hand to her lips - and looks at you with with five eyes, mercifully devoid of pity. "Hello, Friend[[(2)->wornToolFootnote2]]," She says. She offers you a hand] Do you take it? >[[Yes->wornToolNoNoYes]] >[[No->wornToolNoNoNo]]

Your anxiety is only matched by your exhaustion, and you can barely hold yourself up. And where would you even go? You curl up on your side with your knapsack under your head. It’s not worth much as a pillow, but it keeps the weight off your horns. You wish you had a longer tail. You’ve seen other demons curl their tails around themselves when they sleep and it looks . . . Comforting. But on you it’d be out of tolerance. You’re half-asleep when Dr. Anju returns, squatting down in front of you once again. “I'll be going to Atwood with you. I know people there and we can get your lungs seen to.” You don’t get up, but you do look at her, breathing laboriously. She frowns at you, and then shakes her head. “Just rest.” That’s that, you suppose. Someone in a blue coat and peaked cap steps into the waiting room. They speak to Dr. Anju for a moment and leave. “The train’s due in soon, and if our man is to be believed, it’s actually running on time,” she says. When the train finally pulls in, you get unsteadily to your feet and make your way to the guard’s van behind the engine. If it’s not too full of luggage you can probably get some more sleep. The guard is exasperated by your arrival, and holds up a hand in a “wait here” gesture before ducking back into the van and moving trunks. Dr. Anju has appeared, bags in hand, shouting something. The guard sticks their head out again. To you, Dr. Anju says “I booked a compartment, you’re coming with me.” Do you go with her? >[[Yes->wornToolYesYesYes]] >[[No->wornToolYesYesNo]]

You get to unsteady feet and gather your knapsack. [you go hide in the freight shed] [a freight train pulls in and stops to wait for a signal] [maybe this train is a better option] [do you get on it?] >[[Yes->wornToolNoYes]] >[[No->wornToolNoNo]]

You avert your eyes and shake your head. She kneels and presses a finger under your chin, raising your gaze back up to meet Hers. WE WILL MEET AGAIN. Her voice fills you. And She is gone. [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

Your hand trembles, but Hers is firm. She pulls you to your feet, and you feel steady. Your head is clearing, and as she gazes into you, it clears entirely. What were you? What pain did you carry? Whatever it was has passed, and now there is only Her approval, and that is all that you need. [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

You’re so tired. “Listen - I’m sorry, I never got your name.”\ You hesitate. You never got your name, either[[(1)->wornToolFootnote1]].\ “Well - if you’re still sorting that out, I’ll call you Friend[[(2)->wornToolFootnote2]], for now.”\ Well. That will probably do. You nod assent.\ “I know people in Atwood, and we’ll take care of you. You look like you could use it. But it’s your choice.” You feel the unfamiliarity of this, but you choose. Dr. Anju leads you back into the waiting room. You sink down to the floor again, exhausted, your cough shaking you. But, maybe, you’re not alone. [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

“Where are they going?” you ask Dr. Anju. She sighs, but interprets for you. The train is going to a place called Whist, which is by the ocean. You are going to test your new limb. “Can they take me to Whist?”\ The guard glares at you, but looks down and thinks it over.\ “He says they can, but you’re on your own after that.”\ “I’ll manage.”\ “Hmph! Well, that’s your choice, I suppose, but when you get there, find a doctor. And get some clean clothes. And get plenty of rest and fluids, you’re almost certainly dehydrated, and-” The guard interrupts Dr. Anju and beckons you towards the brake van at the end of the train. The doctor grabs your hand. “I hope I see you again, Friend[[(2)->wornToolFootnote2]].” And she waves from the platform as the train pulls away. [[Make another choice.->are you a demon]]

2.\ The original word in Vulgar Demonic is *neosha*, which is usually translated as "friend", but what it really conveys is "they are not from our nest, but we love them as though they are". It was little-used in the years of the Empress. {back link}

Demonic society historically did not have much use for gender. Until the Unification, and Sen Sakaneo's development of Imperial Setana, Vulgar Demonic solely made use of the third-person singular pronoun, *kine*. The peoples of the lands along the northern border of Hell mostly adopted it as well, since until the Unification, contact among the Folk of those lands and demons was commonplace. {back link}