“I guess; I really don’t know what’s going on,” answered Tom.
“Well, try and see if you can tell me what happened.”
Tom wasn’t sure he should trust this rather weird demon, but he certainly seemed a lot better than that Lenamare fellow. Plus he needed to talk to someone about this, to help make some sense of it.
“Well, one moment I had been at a party that I really didn’t want to be at, then I was smoking a joint my friend had given me. The next thing I know I am floating off in a bunch of colors sicker than ever. Then suddenly, I’m being assaulted by a bunch of goons trying to grab my soul or something, They keep chanting at me to submit to them. I tried to run, and when that didn’t work, I tried to fight; when that didn’t get me very far, I tried running again, but they caught me. I went through an awful lot of pain and then found myself on the floor of a stone room. Then these people threaten me, and dismiss me, and here I am on this rock looking like this, and here you come.”
“Yep, that sounds about right. You see, like I said, we’ve all got similar stories, and we all got snatched up into slavery.” Boggy told Tom.
“But why? Why do these people do this, and why do we have to look like this, and how do they do it?” Tom’s head was full of a million questions.
“Why, well... it’s kind of like they don’t know what they’re doing.” Boggy explained. “They can, by means of their spells, reach out into the Astral Plane. Unfortunately, this kind of screws up their vision, so they don’t seem capable of distinguishing anyone other than people from their own plane, or planes very similar to theirs as being people.
“Everyone else they just see as a bunch of lights. From their history they interpret these lights as being demons, especially when considering the process by which they do this, it reinforces their beliefs. When they reach out and grab you and bring you to their world, it takes several people and a lot of willpower and a ton of Mana, magic energy. In the process, they mold the form you take in their world by their expectations of what they think you look like. In other words, they expect demons to have horns and tails and be hideous, so when we come onto their plane, that’s the incarnation we are forced to take.”
“You mean, they thought I looked like this, so I do?”
“Essentially. However, the party entering the plane also influences the form, so that for example, a complete alien, non-humanoid would manifest differently. They name us demons, so the form you get is their image of a demon, mixed with the image that the demonized person has of a demon. Thus alien demons, look like really weird demons, i.e. non-anthropomorphic demons.”
“Yeah,” was all Tom could say.
“I realize it’s probably a bit much to take all at one time; but don’t worry, you’ll figure it out,” Boggy consoled.
“So, what exactly is the story... now that they’ve... well, caught me?”
“Basically it’s eternal slavery.” Tizzy spoke up.
“Eternal?”
“Well, you see, we’re not actual physical or corporeal beings anymore, basically just energy patterns, thus we can’t really die.” Boggy added.
“Cept if were disrupted, destroyed or obliterated,” interjected Tizzy.
“OK, we can be killed by certain devices, spells and etcetera, but we won’t die of old age,” amended Boggy.
“If I’m non-corporeal-without a body... where’s my body at?” Tom asked, very suddenly afraid of the answer.
“Well, in order to bind your spirit they had to sever the silver cord that connected you to your body. So your body is still on your home plane.”
“So, I can maybe get back to it?”
“I’m afraid not, Tom. You see, when the soul is separated from the body, and the silver cord cut, the body dies,” Boggy said sorrowfully, looking at Tom’s confusion and fright with pity.
“So I’m dead?”
“No, not exactly, when you die your soul goes off somewhere, to regenerate, or to some sort of heaven or ceases or something; I don’t know. In our case, our minds and spirits, our consciousness if you will, are still alive, our physical bodies just aren’t.”
“And what’s considering the state of our lives and our slavery, you might say were in a living hell,” giggled Tizzy at his joke, as he mischievously let his eyes dance around looking at the flames.
“Ignore him, Tom. Sure, this isn’t the greatest way to live, but it doesn’t have to be the worst. If you’re lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“Yes, if you get a master who’s not too demanding or too happy inflicting pain. Pain, now that’s the rub! We are very hard to kill, but with their spells, the wizards don’t have too much trouble inflicting pain on any demon under their command. That’s how they maintain their mastery, by threatening us with excruciating pain and torture.”
Still stuck on Tizzy’s analogy, and struck by Boggy’s comment on torture, Tom said, “So there is some basis to the legends. I mean we’re not physically alive, and we aren’t where most lucky souls go, we get tortured, we look like devils and demons, and we do live in a place of fire.”
“Well, a lot of cultures do have similar mythos, especially the Astlanians, and the way they control us and perceive us does lend credence to those legends. However, it is really a self-perpetuating circle. We look like this and are treated like this because of Astlanian legends and religious beliefs, and our existing like this, of course, strengthens their belief in demons and hell and all that sort of thing. Where the beliefs come from in the first place, I have no idea.”
“If the shoe fits, wear it,” interjected Tizzy. Pointing at him with the stem of his pipe.
“Like he says, most give up questioning it and just go with the flow, do what’s expected, and be a demon.”
“But the other stuff, damned souls and all. I mean, I realize this is a damnable situation, so to speak,” he stated before Tizzy could interrupt with a similar type comment, “but what about the reason we’re here, is it because of sinful or evil acts?”
“Well that’s a matter of personal opinion and belief, some would say yes; but me, no, I don’t think so.”
That relieved Tom a little; he didn’t like to think this had happened because of some evil act on his part, he really couldn’t remember any. “Well, what about the other legends, demons being evil and enjoying evil acts, and just waiting for a wizard to goof up, so the demon can rend him horribly.”
“We call that a party!” Tizzy exclaimed. Tom’s eyes widened.
“Well now, evil is a matter of perspective, generally speaking. However, just like the humans most of us once were, there are nice demons and not so nice demons. As far as rending wizards limb from limb, more than just the generally wicked demons would love to rip a wizard or two apart. After all, you try having your life interrupted, subjected to centuries of abject slavery, degradation, torture and pain, and tell me if you don’t get just a bit pissed off and want revenge on those doing this to you.”
“Crap, it looks like I’m going to get the chance to find out,” Tom said despondently.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. That’s just kind of a sore spot a lot of us have. We, of course, always want to defend what we feel are, ah, justified actions.”
“I guess I understand, or soon will, at least.”
“Yeah, you will, heh, heh,” chuckled Tizzy, sticking the pipe stem back in his mouth.
“Well, actually, you understand there are of course other more logical reasons for trying to axe your master, beyond simple exquisite painful revenge. Because, if you kill off everyone who knows your true name, no one can call on you for your services. Therefore, you are essentially free, until someone realizes that there’s a bound demon running around out there with no master, and tries to find out your name, or tries to force it out of you. Which, if you’re discreet, won’t happen very often.”