Chapter 140

Jaldabaoth watched as the dwarf slave writhed on the table. One of his summons was busy sewing him to a captured quagoa. The yowls and screams of the pair blended together like a musical chorus. "Fools. Fools. Fools. Fools." He said while looking over them as they struggled to resist, tugging against the straps which held them fast. "Your best chance to stay alive is to stay calm and move as little as possible, or that is what the rest of my experiments are showing. Your races have changed so little in the thousands of years since I was last here." He snorted, the quagoa prisoner had at least a little spirit left, it nipped at his hand. Jaldabaoth allowed the nip and laughed when the teeth shattered.

The quagoa howled at the self inflicted pain, he pulled against the dwarf which in turn pulled against him. "Pathetic little animals…" Curiously, the one thing they had in common was that they called for their parents. The beardless dwarf shed tears, the quagoa did not, and yet if it could have, it surely would have.

The pair were joined at the hips in the most literal sense, and with great care their veins were entwined together by magic. 'I wonder if this pair will survive?' He mused and left them to be tended by the summons.

He went over to another table, where a dwarf was fitted with a quagoan arm, while a quagoa was fitted with a dwarven one. This pair however, was not screaming. They were deep in an enchanted sleep to see how conscious pain impacted the surgery.

There were a considerable number of quagoa to work with, but not nearly as many dwarves. Capturing those sent out to raid settlements, and the settlements' defenders and occupants, proved fruitful. 'If only I hadn't moved with such sloth! Surely my Master won't be displeased though… do I have enough that…' He could not finish the thought.

Instead he imagined the words he dreaded, and cursed his supreme intellect that let him make it so vivid in his own mind, "Demiurge, why so few… I thought you were eager to prove yourself… if this is the best you are willing to do then…"

Jaldabaoth killed the vicious horrible thought by slamming a fist down on a stone table and shattering a chunk free with such force that it shattered again when it hit the stone mountain floor. Daylight would shine through the hole in the mountain soon. Putting the quagoa out into that sunlight proved to be a unique kind of torture.

Unique in that unless they were forced to look directly into the light for a prolonged period, they would recover almost instantly.

So to save mana, he made use of it. "Where is my army?! Where is the object that contains my endless host?!" He spent all day yesterday bellowing that at one quagoa after another.

Each one yowled as the light seared and blinded the quagoan eyes.

Each one professed the ignorance he expected.

A ragged, bruised, bloody dwarf hobbled behind him taking notes. He was missing bits up and down one half of himself. Half his head was shaved at the top, all the teeth of the right side of his jaw were gone, he was missing one eye, one nostril severed away, three fingers of his right hand, three toes of his right foot.

He held a clipboard with his remaining fingers in the right hand while writing on paper with his left while the demon dictated to him. "Halfdwarf." Jaldabaoth addressed him, and the dwarf nodded his head as fast as he could.

"My Lord?" Halfdwarf asked.

"If I torture your captured comrades, will I get different answers than I got from the quagoan filth?" Jaldabaoth inquired.

"No, my Lord. None of us know the history you speak of… I swear it." Halfdwarf replied, and immediately when the towering demon with its sparking flame-touched body turned around to face him, Halfdwarf groveled on the stone in abject submission.

Jaldabaoth grunted. Halfdwarf kept his sigh confined to his mind, any sense of relief would be cause for punishment, the cool stone caught the warm sweat as fear drained it from his body.

"I was trapped in that item for at least ten thousand years… that is the only explanation for the stars being where they are…" He hissed, and the dwarf gasped at the statement that didn't really seem directed at him.

"It is… possible that I could have been forgotten after all that time. So where…" Jaldabaoth reached down and plucked Halfdwarf from the floor by his hair, he held the now kicking, flailing, screeching dwarf up at eye level. He locked his burning eyes into that of the fear filled dwarf's face. "Where would you hide something you didn't want anyone to find… or where could it be lost that nobody would stumble over it?!" Halfdwarf screamed, the clipboard clattered against the stone, he reached up and began plucking hairs out of his head until he fell.

'At last I die… no more pain… no more pain…' Halfdwarf told himself with tranquil optimism and closed his eye while he turned so that he would fall headfirst into the stone surface where sweet eternal oblivious awaited him.

Only to land… and find he was not dead.

He opened his eyes when he felt the solid, burning surfaces engulf his body. Jaldabaoth had caught him during his fall. "Where?!" Jaldabaoth bellowed and shook the dwarf.

Halfdwarf's head bounced around so wildly that he couldn't even properly make out the face of the demon which held him fast.

"The Great Rift!" Halfdwarf shrieked "Anything that goes down there never comes back up! Nobody knows what's at the bottom, if it's not with us, or the quagoa, or the dragons, if it is in this mountain it's down there! Down theeeeerrrre!" Halfdwarf shouted with urgent abandon as the fingers closed around him and the heat on his flesh began to intensify.

Then it began to fade, the grip loosened, and he was set down with near gentleness, the massive head of the demon furrowed at the brow and asked, "What is 'The Great Rift'?"

Halfdwarf began to babble, explaining what little he knew about the deep chasm. He knew without a doubt that as long as he spoke, no pain would come. And so he would speak, he would say all, anything, everything. Every legend, every story, what little was known of every expedition's efforts, down to the very last detail.

Anything.

'Anything… at all… as long as there is no more pain…' Halfdwarf told himself, and babbled on, and on, and on...