Pain. Pulsing Pain.

That was the first thing he became aware of as he stirred from the abyss of unconsciousness. Blood thrummed against the walls of his skull like a drum, and every beat brought another spasm of pain.

He couldn't move his arms or legs, and his vision was limited to a glassy surface ahead.

Where was he? How did he end up here? He tried to remember the last thing that happened before waking.

Emptiness, followed by another furious spasm of pain as if he was being punished for trying to remember.

Panic seeped from his shattered mind and throughout his body. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead as each breath grew shallow. Then amidst the pulsing spasms, a lost memory found itself into his hold.

He had stepped out on to the cobblestone street, basking in the warm embrace of the afternoon sun. A canal glistened a block away dividing the upper and lower sections of the city. The shop he was leaving, once his master's and now his, was in a prime spot, catering to customers from all walks of life. Business flourished, for it was a rare find to find an alchemist who specialized in healing animals.

Before closing the door, he peered inside and inspected his alchemy station. Everything seemed to be in order. Herbs and ingredients were set and quarantined in their respective cabinets. Vials were cleaned and braced in uniform on shelves. Well, except for one misplaced bottle, a minor irregularity. It posed no serious danger but old habits demanded he rectify it. As Master Kravos said, an alchemist may not be a soldier but he must carry a soldier's mindset.

He didn't want to step back inside so he decided to exercise his peculiar talent. He reached within himself toward chaotic currents of magic that coursed through him for as long as he could remember. He hadn't harnessed it much recently. Alchemy was orderly while magic, his magic at least, tended to be unruly. Yet, it had its uses such as times like these.

He teased but a strand of the current, cautious not to pull anything more, then flicked his right hand forward while whispering an incantation.

"Deffero"

A spectral blue hand wisped into being, floating in front of him. Mage hand, a simple cantrip that any novice with a talent, both innate or earned, for magic could conjure. He gestured the hand toward the misplaced bottle, guiding it back to its rightful place among its compatriots.

Satisfied, he released the grip on his magic, and the spectral hand dissipated into vapor.

Then he locked the shop door, and flipped the sign "Tav's Alchemical Solutions" to "Closed". It was still strange to see his name there instead of his master's but he took it in pride. The shop was entrusted to his care by his Master's will and he intended to see it through.

Kissing the sickle-shaped amulet around his neck he gave a brief prayer to the moon-maiden Selune and to Master Kravos, who was hopefully resting peacefully in her realm. With these rituals observed, he ventured onto the bustling streets of Baldur's Gate, ready to face another day.

A spasm of pain ripped him back to the present, as he held onto the memory like a stranded man would hold onto a plank in the ocean. His name was Tav. He was an alchemist from Baldur's Gate. Yet, how he ended up in this capsule with nearly all his memories missing and in excruciating pain remained a mystery. If it was because he got the ill attention of someone, he certainly couldn't remember it. He always charged a fair price, and sometimes gave services free of charge. What could have happened to lead him to this situation?

Tav made a feeble attempt to move, but his limbs refused to obey, each muscle and joint protesting as if they hadn't been used in an eternity. He contemplated the passage of time. How long had he been in this tormenting state? His immediate environment offered little insight, a slimy yet non-slippery surface holding his body up and a fogged glassy capsule obscuring his view. Through it, he made out a cauldron dripping viscous orange liquid, and a chamber adorned while unfamiliar purple and black shapes.

Amidst the haze of pain, an alarming realization took hold: a spreading fire flickering throughout the chamber threatening to consume the confined space. For an alchemist, being trapped amidst flames spelled disaster, risking the destruction of rare ingredients and the gruesome fate of being burned alive. Desperation mingled with the pain, but hope flickered as he recalled the distant memory.

Tav recalled the spell he had whispered through the door, envisioning it be used to push open the glassy pane. He focused inward, toward the source of magic within him. It roiled at his approach, and he was taken aback by its enormity. In his memory, it was but a pond, but now, he found himself reaching out to a vast lake.

He reached for a strand, then the pain pulsed through his skull and he wound up plunging into the whirling energy.

The magic took on a life of its own, spiraling out of control. His eyes widened as it coursed through his body, coalescing before erupting in a deafening explosion. The shockwave reverberated through his joints, and he felt the restraints on his limbs snap. The glass pane in front of him was violently propelled away, leaving his battered body exposed within the capsule.

It wasn't what he intended, but his restraints were gone. However, given the state of his bruised and weakened body, he slid down the capsule and crashed onto the cold, wet, slimy floor groaning, "Ugh…"

Tav lay there in a heap, vulnerable as an infant. The air outside was hot, and laced with sulfur. He gagged as it laced through his throat and battered lungs. Among the pain, anger blossomed. Anger at his situation, at his helplessness. Then it gave way, pulling something else deep within the crevices of his being. His vision ran red as he was overcome with the desire to tear, rip, flay something. To ruin it between his own two hands.

The thought shocked him, and he tried shaking it away like a dog did to fleas. The feeling slinked away to whatever nook it rose from. Whatever this emotion was, it somehow felt both foreign yet familiar. A paradox. After all, he was just an alchemist. He ran a small shop in Baldur's Gate. He liked fishing by the wharf, especially when the view was improved by the half-naked acolytes of the Water Queen swimming by. He liked traveling to restock on herbs, and the new sights and wonders he came across almost made up for the occasional danger and poor living conditions. He liked listening to bards by the city square when they played soft tunes. He wasn't one prone to savagery. He didn't have thoughts like this before… or did he?

The gaps in his mangled mind answered in silence.

A wooshing sound veered to his left, as he saw the fire snake its way into the puddle of yellowish liquid and toward the cauldron. Tav felt strength in his legs and limbs, which he could feel was tied to that dreadful emotion from earlier. He rolled away, right as the fire caught onto the cauldron and burst, spewing blazing contents in all directions.

He managed to gain enough distance to avoid the blast, though he was pelted by small bits of charred flesh. He noticed tiny worm-like creatures amidst them, like tadpoles except for the countless miniature fangs jutting out their ends.

They were dead though, and he didn't have much time to ponder them as something pounded the walls of the room. There was a grumble followed by a shriek, and that was when he noticed the elephant-sized hole in the ceiling, leading to a smoky red atmosphere.

He realized if he didn't want to be dead like the tadpole-like things, it would be best to get moving. Now that he was out, he noticed other capsules in the room like the one he had been in. All were empty and broken, which likely meant there were others like him. Maybe they could help answer the ever-growing questions piling in his mind.

He stood up, following a pathway across the floor which lead to the only possible exist. A section of the wall that looked like a sphincter. Looking at it, he got the uncomfortable memory of extracting anal secretions from a weasel.

However, the contraption directly to its left caught his attention. It looked like an upside-down seashell with many small blue sprigs wisping out from the opening.

A sensation rippled through his head, separate from the painful spams. Knowledge and understanding trudged through his mind. Healing, restoration, and rest. He fell into a trance and the next thing he knew, he had wandered into the embrace of the tendrils, which spewed blue particles at him.

Where they touched his skin, a cool pleasant sensation lanced across his sinews, mending and repairing flesh. In the span of three breaths, the spasms and pounding ebbed away into little more than a dull ache. He could think clearly for the first time since waking.

He tapped around himself, checking for anything odd. He couldn't be too sure with how strange everything was so far. There didn't appear to be anything wrong, although his clothes were little more than rags and he could use a nice hot bath. A haircut as well, given the tousled and wrangling beard and mustache.

Another hint that he had been here for some time.

There was another loud rumble, as whatever was outside seemed to be making another wreck nearby. He needed to get moving, lest whatever it was decided to revisit the hole that it made here.

That left the sphincter. He braced himself as it looked as slimy as the weasel's. Then again, he was going to need a bath regardless. Still, he pinched his nose as he charged forward to squeeze through.

Which turned out not to be needed as it opened to let him pass, and closed as soon as he did.

Tav stumbled into a larger room. To his right, a series of tables with an alien design held what appeared to be surgical tools and glass casings. Casings full of brains. He couldn't help but gulp, wondering if this could have been his fate. Regardless, he resolved not to let it become his current one.

To his left was a second floor, with no apparent staircase leading up toward it. On the opposite end of the room was an opening to the red and smoky outside world.

There was no time to be wasted. He stepped over to the tables and grabbed something sharp that looked like it could be used as a shank. Not that he had much experience with a melee, but having an improvised weapon brought him a small measure of comfort.

"We are here…"

Alarmed, he turned and raised his knife.

"Who was that!?" The hairs rose on the back of his neck. "Show yourself!"

Without a clear source to aim at, he randomly pointed the knife, not because he was unsure of its origin but because it seemed to originate from within his own head, which was even more disconcerting.

"Help! We are trapped… Please. Help Us!"

He could feel the desperation in the child-like voice, and this time felt a mental pulse, gesturing toward the second floor above him.

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Now he wasn't so sure if he wanted to help, namely because the being had spoken directly into his mind, which was not normal. For all he knew, it could be a trap. Then again, he didn't have anything to go off of. For all he knew it'd be an opportunity to get answers.

"Hold on," he said. "I'll be right there!"

"Please! Hurry!"

Tav noticed a gap in the second floor, and below it, a conveniently placed with a rod embedded on its edge. He walked onto the platform and looked at the orange-tinted orb atop the rod.

It had no visible buttons or anything to trigger it. However, everything here so far seemed to operate in proximity. He got a bit closer and felt a mental connection to it, asking for a command.

He inferred a guess as to its purpose and gave a simple clear order.

"Up"

The platform clicked and then rose to his satisfaction. Something that made sense in this chaos.

Tav kept the shank readied as he approached the second floor. He glimpsed more tables and chests, circling a half-naked humanoid being strapped to a chair. One with half its skull missing.

"Yes! You've come to save us from this place, from this place you'll free us!"

Another psychic jolt emanated from the body. Tav cautiously approached, keeping an eye out for any suspicious movements. The body convulsed uncontrollably, its eyes and mouth darting in random directions, most of the movement centered on the exposed brain. It seemed as if the brain was trying to break free, wriggling and roiling.

"What are you?" said Tav, who was both disgusted and intrigued.

"A newborn," it said. "Born from this husk. Please, before they return! They return…"

"Who is they?" he said. "Where am I? What is this place?"

"Enemies! So many enemies. First, remove us from this body- from this case. Please!"

An emotion of panic laced its voice. Whatever, it was, it wasn't likely to answer any questions in its current state.

It was clear enough the humanoid was long gone, and the only living thing was… whatever was now occupying the brain. Another potential fate he had avoided. So far at least.

It would probably suit him best to play along for now. At least until he knew what in the name of the gods was going on.

"Hold still," he said as he inserted his fingers into the sides of the skull. He winced at his yellowed nails, which were hardly sanitized for such a procedure. Operating on human brains was not his expertise; his skills lay more in suturing flesh and mending bones. However, through his business, he had learned various ways flesh could be torn and bones could be broken, applicable to creatures of all kinds.

Tav found a groove and inserted the shank between the brain and the bone. With some pressure, the bone yielded, and the brain popped free, emitting a joyful squeal. He held it in his hands, disgusted.

The fury, the mania from before grumbled from the crevice of his consciousness, and he felt a desire to rip into the brain's moist crevices. A promise of ecstasy with each motion as he shredded the flesh to bits.

His fingers twitched for a moment, as Tav grit his teeth and blinked away the intrusive thought. Undoubtedly, something was done to him. Something by his captors. He would not give in to it. He recalled his childhood spent in the slums, and all those moments he could have taken an easier way down a darker road. Instead, he made someone himself, and he would not relinquish control to this dark urge.

Then the brain hopped off his palms. Out of any temptation and straight onto the floor. Slimy tendrils split out its sides and four clawed limbs clambered out beneath it.

"We are free," it said. "Our freedom is ours! Friend."

It clambered toward him like a dog, and he felt a quirk creep up the edge of his lip in contentment. That was until he remembered it wasn't your usual lovable four-legged animal, but a walking talking brain.

"Alright," said Tav. "Now that you're free, how about you-"

The brain tensed up as if it was listening to something. Querying an unseen advisor.

"We must go to the helm!" it said. "At the helm, we are needed."

"Wait, the helm? There is a helm?"

The four-legged brain paused.

"Do you not hear it? We will not survive here. We are needed to navigate – we are needed to navigate this realm."

Then it scurried away and hopped off the edge of the floor.

"Hey," said Tav. "Wait!"

He ran over to the edge as the brain on four legs landed on the first floor and followed the path to the outer world.

"Damn it!" he said, as he rushed over to the platform and commanded it to drop. As the platform was halfway down, he leaped off, landing on the soft floor and rushing in pursuit of the brain's path.

As he approached the outer world, the heat and the smell of sulfur got worse. He felt a hot gust blowing past his face, but then he realized it wasn't really a wind.

As he stepped outside, he discovered that he was on the edge of a vessel soaring through the air. He paused, gazing downward to witness a literal hellscape devoid of trees, oceans, or even a blade of grass. Instead, broken structures, corpses, and the remnants of explosions painted a grim picture in black and red shades.

A deafening roar echoed once more, louder this time, sending shivers across his skin. He instinctively ducked as a shadow passed over him, followed by a blur of red and green.

He ducked, then realized there were two entities within the shadow. Higher up, an enormous red dragon, the stuff of legends and stories he had only heard and read about. Closer, an arm's length from him an armored warrior swooned dove above him, with green skin and flowing reddish hair, brandishing a great sword.

The warrior landed ahead of him with the grace of a Chultian flying lizard. Her long-red hair swerved as she flurried her blade into a fighting stance. Reptilian eyes twisted into a snarl.

"Abomination," she hissed. "This is your end!"

"Wait," he said. "I'm…!"

Suddenly his head throbbed and his skin tingled. Visions rushed past him, unfamiliar ones.

A dragon's wing, like the one he saw before but across a black sky glittering with stars. A silver sword, followed by him seeing his face, where he looked like a beggar along the out city, but through the strange woman's eyes.

As he held his hand to his head, he noticed the woman doing the same. A connection flickered between the two. Was he reading her thoughts?

"Ugh… My head," she said. "What is this… ngh."

"I-I don't know either." He got up and stepped a few paces back to be out of swinging distance. He lowered his shank, knowing it wouldn't be much of a defense, but at least it would indicate an offer of peace. "Look… I'm not your enemy. I don't even know why I'm here. Or where we are."

Inwardly, he reached into the roiling chaos of magic within him. He was no warrior, but it was his last resort, in case things took a turn for the worse. He had no intention of dying now.

"Tsk'va," she said, a word he didn't recognize. "You are no thrall – Vlaakith blesses me this day. Together, we might survive."

Tav didn't know who or what Vlaakith was. She looked like a race unfamiliar to him, at least from all the places he's been along the Sword Coast and even as far as Chult, but the fact that she lowered her blade offered a glimmer of hope.

"I uh… hope so too," said Tav. "Who are you, and do you know where we are for that matter?"

"That is of little concern for now," she said, and Tav was about to mouth off since this was the second time nobody gave him a straight answer. Then she pointed to her head. "We carry parasites. Unless we escape – unless we are cleansed – our bodies and minds will be tainted and twisted. Within days, we will be…

Another memory surged to the fore. A book he read once on a mental shielding elixir referenced a certain type of creature they were to be used against. Ones found in the Underdark, whose strange architecture sounded eerily familiar to the ones in the rooms earlier. Tentacled Beings from the far realm who feasted on the brains of the living or worse turned you into one of them.

"Mindflayers," he said.

"Yes," she said. "Ghaik. Then you are well aware of our peril."

He knew enough about mind flayer tadpoles that there wasn't that much time until the process known as ceremorphosis took place. A painful process by which his organs and body restructured itself and his being was extinguished in place of a newly born mindflayer, and there wasn't much time between the infection to the transformation.

"There-There has to be something we can do!" said Tav.

"There is nothing we can do until we escape," she said. "That must be our priority. First, we find the helm then we take control of the ship."

The helm, the brain creature from earlier referenced that. An intellect devourer now that he knew what he was likely dealing with. Speaking of which, the thing was nowhere to be found.

He didn't know who this strange woman was, but at least she wasn't a mind flayer. For now, they seemed to have the same goal, and better yet she potentially knew a cure. Also, she seemed better equipped for any fights, at least compared to himself.

She seemed like his best and possibly only chance for survival.

"Agreed," he said. "Do you know where to go?"

"This way," she pointed down the pathway, which hugged the side of the ship before looping inward. "I have seen the thralls moving in this direction, the helm is where they are likely moving towards."

She darted down the pathway without another word.

"Wait!" he said, and ran to try and keep up, which he couldn't. The woman was lugging a half-plate of armor with a sword, and she still outran him.

He only caught up when she suddenly stopped at the point where the pathway merged back into the ship. As he looked into the open room, he saw why. It was filled with crackling fires, destroyed furniture, and scattered smears of blood and other liquids. What drew his attention however were several diminutive figures with red wings, no larger than gnomes, crouched over a pile of corpses in the middle.

One of them noticed Tav and the woman as its eyes locked onto his. He also read about these. No mindflayers, but something just as dangerous. Imps. Devils who feasted on the souls and flesh of mortals.

And given the number of imps, the red skies and environment below suddenly made sense. A sinking feeling as Tav know knew where he was. This was not the Sword Coast, or even the planet Toril. This was hell. One of the nine to be exact.

He heard the swish of steel as the woman levied her greatsword up in a charging stance.

"Htak'a!" she yelled and charged.