The morning mist hung heavy over the Sea of Swords as the Sea Spirit, captained by the stalwart Thorne of the Moonshaes, cut through the waves. My journey into the infamous Nelanther Isles had begun. The first island to greet us was Toaridge-at-the-Sun's-Setting, a solitary sentinel of rock and mystery standing 275 miles west-southwest of Candlekeep. Often debated as either part of the Nelanther chain or an independent landmass, this island has a storied past that is deeply intertwined with the rich lore of Faerûn.
Toaridge-at-the-Sun's-Setting is more than just a navigational landmark; it holds secrets of a bygone era. It was here that Aeroth, a hero of the Second Trollwar and the wielder of the mighty magic sword Taragarth' the Bloodbrand,' made a pivotal stop on his journey from Silverymoon to the Moonshae Isles in the Year of the Scythe, 982 DR. After the death of his liege lord Rayuth, Aeroth, in a selfless act of heroism, sought to prevent his six sons from quarreling over the sword. Thus, he hid Taragarth in an abandoned well on this island, where it lay undisturbed for centuries until discovered by a band of illithids. These mind flayers took the sword to their subterranean lair on the mainland; how do you know that? I can hear you ask. Well, all those mind flayers got exterminated by a band of Githyanki some time ago, and they took the sword with them to the Astral plane, where it came to the attention of a particularly famous Battle Dragon, not the red dragons working with the Githyanki, the Battle Dragons are an entirely different breed of true dragon they may have originally been red dragons, I don't know, anyway, the sword is still around, it left Toril and has not yet returned, I'm not sure it ever will.
The Trollwars, significant conflicts that shaped the history of Waterdeep and its surrounding regions, provide a deeper context to Aeroth's tale. The First Trollwar erupted in 932 DR when displaced trolls from the Sword Mountains, driven by the orcs united under the Brotherhood of the Scarlet Scourge, attacked the burgeoning city of Waterdeep. Nimoar the Reaver led the city's defense, wielding his blazing spiked shield to repel the trolls and burn large swathes of the Evermoors, temporarily purging it of trolls.
The Second Trollwar, commencing in 940 DR and lasting until 952 DR, saw a concerted effort by the humans of Waterdeep, allied with the cities of the North, against the trolls of the Evermoors. Waterdhavian defenders first repelled the trolls from their walls before uniting under Aeroth, War Captain of Silverymoon, alongside Ahghairon of Waterdeep and Samular Caradoon of Tyr. Together, they eradicated trolls across the Evermoors, with Ahghairon's magical prowess decisively turning the tide of battle in favor of the human realms.
A third assault loomed in the Year of the Thundering Horde, 963 DR, when traitors Aviss and Fellandar led an army of trolls from the Mere of Dead Men against Waterdeep. These trolls, survivors of earlier conflicts, believed in the traitors' promise of power over the city. However, Ahghairon and a band of wizards thwarted their plans by imprisoning Aviss and Fellandar in an extra-dimensional prison, averting what could have been a devastating third Trollwar.
Extra-dimensional prison, I wonder; after seeing Levistus imprisoned in his massive block of ice and thinking about the transformation of Baalzebul, it seems like Asmodeus is not in favor of sending his enemies to extradimensional spaces; no, he prefers to keep his enemies close, monitored, and miserable.
Baalzebul is an interesting story; he was not always a Duke of Hell. Not many people know this, but his true name is Triel. Triel fell from grace during the great war with the Queen of Chaos and Miska, the Wolf-Spider demon. His descent into corruption began when he was not just one of the Archons of Celestia in those battles but one of the greatest archons, incredibly beautiful to behold; every molecule of his form was perfection, so much so that his corruption by the spider demons was a wake-up call to all the celestial forces to take Miska's spawn far more seriously. They sure did; you don't find many spider demons around these days; they tend to get rather brutally exploded in beams of divine power when they get too open and active in their evil schemes. I don't know exactly how the corruption occurred; it may have been some ancient form of primordial magic, I honestly don't know, but whatever it was, it is largely responsible for the creation of the Devils from the original militant forces of the upper planes.
Time is twisted; events don't follow one another logically that far back in history, so we don't know exactly what the Nine Hells were originally. However, Triel eventually became the Archduke of Hell named Baalzebul, still a stunning figure to behold; he was 12 feet tall with sable skin and a shimmering aura, still angelically beautiful in most regards but disfigured with eyes like those of a Fly and a face marred by the creeping lines of corruption that twisted his once-perfect form. In Celestia, archons are revered as celestial guardians and warriors, upholding the principles of law and goodness. Triel's rise to power in the infernal hierarchy was driven by his obsession with betrayal, a stark perversion of his original purpose. His relentless manipulation and deceit, turning allies against each other, led to his ultimate rejection by Celestia. This deep-seated corruption of his mind and soul, along with his physical transformation, condemned him to the infernal ranks as a devil.
Asmodeus, recognizing Baalzebul's charisma and cunning as a potential threat to his own rule, was waiting for him to break any of the rules of the Nine Hells. Remember, it's a strictly Lawful Evil plane, so there has to be some reason for Asmodeus to act. When he had that excuse, Asmodeus exercised his discretion by making a horrific example of him.
Seeing the element of corruption already present within Baalzebul, Asmodeus greatly enhanced its power, cursing him and transforming him into a grotesque, slug-like mutant.
The curse was a nightmare, a mockery of his former celestial perfection. His once magnificent body was now an enormous, bloated mass of slimy, putrid flesh, continuously writhing and oozing. His skin, a sickly greenish-gray, was covered in a thick, mucous-like substance that left a vile trail wherever he moved. Pustules and boils dotted his surface, periodically bursting to release foul-smelling fluids that added to the pervasive stench of decay surrounding him.
Once a beacon of celestial beauty, his face had become a grotesque parody. His eyes, multifaceted and bulging like those of a fly, sat in a face marred by deep lines of corruption. His mouth was a twisted gash filled with jagged, decaying teeth, and his voice had turned into a harsh, gurgling rasp echoing with the sound of slime and rot.
The stench emanating from Baalzebul was unbearable, a nauseating blend of sulfur, decay, and rot that clung to everything it touched. Wherever he went, piles of excrement and slime would manifest around him, a part of the curse that significantly added to his legendary stench. The air around him was thick with the smell, making it difficult for even the most resilient devils to remain in his presence for long. The ground beneath him would sizzle and corrode from the acidic slime he secreted, leaving a path of destruction in his wake.
Once a proud archon, whose essence had embodied celestial purity, Baalzebul was now a loathsome horror, reviled and pitied even by other devils.
The Nelanther isles also has an ever-shifting dramatic history of strife, but you would expect that from an anarchic hodge podge of outcasts, criminals, desperados and just plain crazy people.
One of the sailors aboard the Sea Spirit, a grizzled old man named Brann, shared tales of Carcathen as we sailed. According to him, Carcathen lay further to the west, beyond our current route. The island was infamous for its jagged cliffs and hidden coves that served as sanctuaries for countless pirate crews over the centuries. Brann's eyes glinted with a mix of fear and reverence as he spoke of ships lured to their doom by false lights on Carcathen's cliffs, their shattered hulls plundered by waiting reavers. The island's rocks seemed to whisper of betrayals and bloodshed, a place where the air buzzed with latent malevolence. Though we wouldn't see Carcathen on this journey, its dark reputation was enough to chill the bones.
Brann left off from his speech; he was a man of few words anyway, and he clutched a symbol of Umberlee closely as he spat over the side of the ship.
Umberlee, also known as the Bitch Queen, is the evil sea goddess of storms, chaos, and destruction in the Faerûnian pantheon. She is worshiped out of fear by sailors and coastal dwellers who seek to appease her wrath and ensure safe passage through her treacherous waters. Umberlee delights in drowning her worshippers and unleashing the untamed fury of the sea upon the world. While it may be unusual or cause for concern to see her symbol worn openly on the mainland, it is common on Sailors of the Trackless sea and I have seen shrines to her placed in rock outcrops just barely above the water, pounded by waves, storms and winters, how the sailors build these shrines is beyond me, I think it must be some religious ritual, but very dangerous. I suppose that's the point really, there is such a high risk of being drowned and dashed to bits on the rocks, the building of the shrine and the risk of death is what appeals to the goddess in her worshipper's minds.
The relationship between Umberlee and the devils of the Nine Hells, including Baalzebul and Asmodeus, has always been one of cautious opportunism. Umberlee's chaotic nature contrasts sharply with the strict order of the devils, but their mutual desire for power and destruction has led to temporary alliances.
In ancient times, there was a particularly notable alliance between Umberlee and Baalzebul. During this period, Baalzebul saw an opportunity to elevate himself to divine status by manipulating Umberlee and using her chaotic power to his advantage. The alliance was tenuous, built on a foundation of mutual distrust and ambition. Baalzebul's ultimate goal was to use Umberlee's power to overthrow Asmodeus and become the supreme ruler of both the Nine Hells and the seas.
Baalzebul promised Umberlee greater influence over the mortal realm, with the intention of drawing her into a complex web of deceit. He planned to leverage her power to create chaos and weaken Asmodeus's hold on the Nine Hells. Baalzebul's schemes, however, were always self-serving. He sought to absorb some of Umberlee's divine essence, hoping it would be enough to challenge Asmodeus and claim his throne.
This grand scheme played out against the backdrop of Maladomini, the seventh layer of the Nine Hells, where Baalzebul reigned. Maladomini is a realm of ruin and decay, filled with abandoned cities, crumbling fortresses, and landscapes scarred by centuries of infernal conflict. The air is thick with the stench of corruption and the wails of tormented souls echo through the ruins. Rivers of molten rock flow through the desolate wasteland, and the sky is perpetually overcast, casting a dull, oppressive light over the landscape.
Maladomini's decaying cities are inhabited by devils and other infernal creatures, all under Baalzebul's rule. I suppose these cities were once grand and majestic, but now they lie in ruins, just like the Duke of hell who rules them. Baalzebul's palace, a grotesque structure of twisted iron and stone, looms over the largest of these cities, the stench of the edifice casts a much longer shadow, as if any wind in the ruined hell comes directly from his lair.
The alliance between Umberlee and Baalzebul inevitably crumbled under the weight of their mutual treachery. Umberlee, realizing Baalzebul's true intentions, unleashed her fury upon him, and their tenuous alliance dissolved into open conflict. Baalzebul's plans to absorb her divine essence were thwarted, and he was forced to retreat to the safety of Maladomini, his ambitions temporarily dashed, only to find Asmodeus waiting for him, knowing exactly when to strike as his rival was at his weakest, he inflicted the most vile transformation curse as punishment for Baalzebul's violation of fiendish law.
The fact that Asmodeus almost constantly breaks the same laws has very little to do with anything in the Nine Hells, of course. They are evil after all, lawful but still very evil.
The Hook Islands, with their perilous currents and deadly reefs, are also infamous for claiming countless ships over the centuries. The mood onboard the Sea Spirit was tense as Captain Thorne used magic to expertly navigate through the treacherous waters. The jagged rocks jutted out like the teeth of some monstrous sea creature, ready to devour any ship that strayed too close. Come to think of it, though we had seen no sign of them, sea serpents are a common sight around the Nelather isles, we didn't see any this trip but we had tactics and special gear onboard if one did attack us.
The islands were a mix of rocky shores and dense, tangled vegetation, offering both refuge and danger in equal measure. The coastal areas were lined with salt-tolerant shrubs and grasses, while thick mangroves and towering trees with twisted, gnarled branches dominated the interior. Among the more exotic plants was the Bloodthorn Vine, a creeping, parasitic plant with crimson tendrils that could ensnare and drain the life from unwary animals—or even people. The air was thick with the calls of strange birds, their cries echoing eerily through the mist-shrouded trees. There were also rumors of monstrous crabs and venomous sea snakes that lurked in the shallow waters, ready to strike at any who ventured too close.
As we sailed closer to the islands, we spotted a ship on the horizon, its black sails billowing ominously. The crew tensed, readying for a possible encounter with pirates. The vessel bore the markings of the Crimson Serpent, a notorious pirate ship that had been terrorizing the Sea of Swords for decades. Captain Thorne ordered a change in course, and with skillful maneuvering, we managed to avoid a direct confrontation. The Crimson Serpent sailed away, perhaps on another plundering mission, leaving us to breathe a sigh of relief.
Among the Hook Islands, we discovered new settlements that had sprung up over the last few decades. These were rough, makeshift towns built by those seeking to carve out a life away from the mainland's prying eyes and laws. One such settlement was Driftwood Haven, a ramshackle collection of huts and cabins built from salvaged shipwrecks and driftwood. The people here were a mix of outcasts, smugglers, and those looking to escape past troubles. Despite the rough exterior, Driftwood Haven had a thriving black market, trading in goods and information that couldn't be found elsewhere. We stocked up on quite a lot of smoked and salted fish in exchange for fresh vegetables, preserved fruit, and a bag of seeds that fetched quite a large price as we bartered more than exchanged coin; the locals were not surviving very well; they seemed wary and plagued by diseases that they said was in the animals in the mangroves. When I asked for a description of what the animals were like, one of the villagers described a Su-Monster to us, and within less than an hour, we were at sea again. The captain took my word for it, and we hurriedly left. I don't like those creatures at all, and now it seemed more like Driftwood Haven was already doomed; the Su-Monsters were playing with them before wiping everyone out. I hope I am wrong.
Another notable settlement was Sharktooth Bay, a fortified village nestled in a natural harbor. High wooden palisades protected the town from both the sea and the island's interior, where dangers lurked in the dense jungle. Sharktooth Bay was known for its skilled shipwrights and boasted a small fleet of fast, agile ships that could outrun or outfight most threats. The settlement had a reputation for being fiercely independent, with its inhabitants living by their own code of law and justice.
Numerous conflicts and rivalries with Asmodeus and other powerful archdevils and celestial beings mark Baalzebul's history. His manipulative and deceitful nature has made him both feared and loathed within the Nine Hells and beyond.
Aside from Asmodeus, Baalzebul has clashed with several other archdevils. One of his notable adversaries is Mephistopheles, the archduke of Cania, the eighth layer of Hell. Mephistopheles is known for his arcane prowess and intellectual rivalry with Baalzebul, making their interactions a constant battle of wits and power. Mammon, the archduke of Minauros, the third layer of Hell, also harbors animosity towards Baalzebul, primarily driven by greed and the desire for greater influence.
Baalzebul's followers, known as Baalzebulians, are often cunning and manipulative, reflecting their lord's traits. They are adept at deceit, using their skills to entrap mortals and spread corruption. Cultists of Baalzebul often operate in secret, infiltrating positions of power and influence in mortal societies. They use their charisma and guile to manipulate others, weaving intricate lies and deceit to achieve their goals. These cultists are willing to go to great lengths to please their infernal master, often engaging in acts of betrayal and subterfuge to further Baalzebul's influence.
One of the most insidious aspects of Baalzebul's influence is his mastery of infernal contracts. Some of the earliest and best-crafted contracts were designed to ensnare souls by promising not to break any divine laws. By doing so, the signers unknowingly condemned themselves to the Nine Hells, as any violation of divine law would remove their divine protection and allow the devils to claim their souls. Neither Asmodeus nor Baalzebul were the architects of the great pact with Celestia, though; that was Lucifer, of course, though you don't hear much about him since he was deposed before Asmodeus rose to power and is no longer even residing in the Nine Hells, his current whereabouts is unknown.
Baalzebul's acquisition of souls bolstered his own power within the Nine Hells, as each soul added to his influence and strengthened his position. The Yugoloths like to accumulate vast money and leverage, and the devils count their wealth in the number of souls they own. It's not very well understood, but the power gained from the suffering souls is very real. I have my theories, but I never write them down because of my worry that some rattle skull lich will try and turn my theories into some very evil experiments. I've seen what liches can do; I don't doubt they would try it for a second.
The Nine Hells operate under a strict and often brutal legal system, with laws that reinforce the rigid hierarchy and order of the infernal realm. Among these, the Law of Unquestioning Obedience dictates that all devils must obey their superiors without question. Any act of defiance or insubordination is met with severe punishment, often resulting in demotion or excruciating physical torment. This ensures a clear chain of command and suppresses any potential rebellion.
Another grim law is the Law of Retribution. Under this edict, any devil who harms another without just cause is subject to the same harm in return, often magnified. This law acts as a deterrent against unnecessary violence within the ranks, maintaining a semblance of order in a realm driven by ambition and cruelty.
The Law of Absolute Loyalty mandates that devils must always remain loyal to their archduke. Acts of betrayal or treason are punished with extreme severity, often involving eternal torment or complete obliteration. This law underscores the importance of loyalty and ensures that the power structure within each layer remains intact.
As we sailed towards Ioma, a smaller island in the Nelanther Isles to the west of Amn, I could see the towering peak of the island's namesake mountain dominating the landscape. Ioma Town, the island’s only settlement, had a population of around 800 people in 1479 DR, in the 20 years since then, the population has remained relatively stable. The island's main claim to fame is the Iomic crystal, a purple mineral found at the peak of Mount Ioma.
These crystals, resembling amethysts, were initially believed to have anti-magic properties following the Spellplague. They led the Amnians to mine and sell them as charms and amulets to ward off wild magic. However, reputable scholars and wizards later debunked these claims, revealing the crystals to have no special properties. Despite this, the Amnians continued to mine and sell them, often passing them off as amethysts or selling them as snake oil to the less-educated folk of the Realms; the further from Athkatla they sell them, the more their sales pitch sounds like the original claim that they can ward off chaotic magic.
Interestingly, the Abolethic Sovereignty discovered the psionic properties of Iomic crystals and conducted experiments with them. They infused the crystals with a variant of the aboleth curse and sold them in Athkatla’s low market, further spreading their influence and corruption. I am sure some organizations like the Harpers are hunting down all those evil crystals, but I don't know.
Ioma Town is protected by a group of Cowled Wizards from Amn, adding a layer of mystique and power to the island’s defenses. Though only half the size of Skaug's, the port had grown to be a significant competitor, bustling with activity and trade. The wizards may ostensibly be in charge in the town, but being from Amn, I advised everyone onboard to refrain from doing any spell casting, just in case a little too much Amnian culture had established itself there.
The town was a bustling activity hub, with merchants hawking their wares in the market square, children playing in the narrow streets, and sailors recounting tales of their voyages. The presence of the Cowled Wizards gave the town an air of order amidst the general chaos of the Nelanther Isles. These wizards, cloaked in their distinctive cowls, patrolled the streets, ensuring that any magical activity was closely monitored and regulated.
As night fell, the crew dispersed into the town, eager to sample the local fare and perhaps meet some of the more attractive and willing fare, as another aspect of the island's economy seemed to be the rest and relaxation of ship crews who arrived in rowboats, their ships anchored offshore so that nobody was too sure who was a pirate and who was a trader. I took the opportunity to explore the market, looking for any interesting items or potential leads. I did get one rather lovely crystal carving of a candlestick, which was enchanted to glow softly when held in the hand; it would decorate my chambers nicely back in Candlekeep.
The next day, we set sail again, heading towards Skaug. As we left Ioma behind, the towering peak of Mount Ioma receded into the distance, and the sailors looked anything but well-rested or relaxed. However, there was quite a lot of cheerful whistling and singing going on.
As we approached the island, the sight of weathered fortifications and ramshackle buildings greeted us. Skaug, with its bustling port and narrow, winding streets, was a stark contrast to the more orderly Ioma.
Skaug's harbor was filled with a mix of ships, from merchant vessels to pirate galleons, each with crews that seemed constantly on edge, ready for either commerce or conflict. The air was thick with the smell of salt, fish, and smoke, as dockworkers hurriedly unloaded cargo and tavern brawls spilled out into the streets.
The island was a hub of illicit trade, with goods ranging from contraband spices to stolen artifacts. The black market in Skaug was renowned across the Nelanther Isles, and it was said that anything and everything could be found for the right price. The presence of the Pirate Lords, a loose coalition of the most powerful pirate captains, maintained a semblance of order in the otherwise chaotic environment.
Skaug’s taverns were filled with raucous laughter, shouts, and the clinking of tankards. Stories of daring raids and near escapes were exchanged over mugs of ale and rum. It was in one such tavern, the Broken Compass, that we overheard whispers of a treasure map leading to a hidden cache on one of the lesser-known islands. The map was said to be in the possession of a notorious pirate named Red Jack who is said to be the husband of a sea queen, and by the rough description I can only assume they were talking about a Triton woman, but, I found that very hard to believe, as with most legends of pirate captains, they are about as accurate as the ingredient list for any cheap bowl of stew you will find on the island. I have eaten some bad stew in my time, but wow... "The squirming just mean's it's fresh my lord" he said.
Don't believe that for a second!
Red Jack was every bit as formidable as the stories suggested. He was a tall, scarred man with a piercing gaze and a reputation for outsmarting his foes. Negotiations with him were tense, but we managed to strike a deal since Red Jack was currently without a ship or crew of his own, and also had a badly injured spine which I managed to fix up for him.
With the treasure map in hand and Red Jack as our guide, we prepared to set sail once more. The promise of hidden riches added a new layer of excitement to our journey, and as we left Skaug behind, the thrill of the hunt coursed through the crew, along with all manner of parasites and diseases, but such was the life.
The map had us double back on our course and head further toward the mainland from Ioma to the Rookery, a series of islands known for their towering rock formations and the enigmatic wizard Pelath. The Rookery had earned its name from the countless seabirds nesting in its cliffs, but it was Pelath who had turned these islands into a place of dark legend.
Pelath, a mage of considerable power and questionable sanity, had taken up residence in the Rookery years ago. His tower, a foreboding structure of black stone and twisted spires, dominated the landscape of the largest island. The locals whispered that Pelath had bound spirits to the rocks and waters around his domain, making the seas treacherous and the weather unpredictable. It was said that those who approached without his blessing would find themselves lost in endless fog or dashed against the reefs by sudden storms.
As we sailed closer, the Sea Spirit was enveloped in a thick mist that seemed to have a life of its own, swirling and shifting in unnatural patterns. The crew grew silent, their eyes darting nervously towards the shore. Captain Thorne steered us carefully, following the narrow channels between the rocks as if guided by some unseen hand. At some point, Red Jack gave a great shout and dove over the side of the ship into the water, we saw no sign of him or his map after that, I was not inclined to go under the water to find him either, so, we backed off from the island and decided the pirate life was fun for a while, but we didn't want to end up just another shipwrecked or mage blasted crew, marooned on one of the islands, so, we set course for the Island of Lantan, a place I had long wanted to visit, and now, finally, it was going to happen!
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