Devils
(Baatezu)
Made with Hero Forge
(from 5th Edition Monster Manual - 2014 - [credits])
Devils personify tyranny, with a totalitarian society dedicated to the domination of mortal life. The shadow of the Nine Hells of Baator extends far across the multiverse, and Asmodeus, the dark lord of Nessus, strives to subjugate the cosmos to satisfy his thirst for power. To do so, he must continually expand his infernal armies, sending his servants to the mortal realm to corrupt the souls from which new devils are spawned.
Lords of Tyranny. Devils live to conquer, enslave, and oppress. They take perverse delight in exercising authority over the weak, and any creature that defies the authority of a devil faces swift and cruel punishment. Every interaction is an opportunity for a devil to display its power, and all devils have a keen understanding of how to use and abuse their power.
Devils understand the failings that plague intelligent mortals, and they use that knowledge to lead mortals into temptation and darkness, turning creatures into slaves to their own corruption. Devils on the Material Plane use their influence to manipulate humanoid rulers, whispering evil thoughts, fomenting paranoia, and eventually driving them to tyrannical actions.
Obedience and Ambition. In accordance with their lawful alignment, devils obey even when they envy or dislike their superiors, knowing that their obedience will be rewarded. The hierarchy of the Nine Hells depends on this unswerving loyalty, without which that fiendish plane would become as anarchic as the Abyss.
At the same time, it is in the nature of devils to scheme, creating in some a desire to rule that eclipses their contentment to be ruled. This singular ambition is strongest among the archdevils whom Asmodeus appoints to rule the nine layers of the Nine Hells. These high-ranking fiends are the only devils to ever sample true power, which they crave like the sweetest ambrosia.
Dark Dealers and Soul Mongers. Devils are confined to the Lower Planes, but they can travel beyond those planes by way of portals or powerful summoning magic. They love to strike bargains with mortals seeking to gain some benefit or prize, but a mortal making such a bargain must be wary. Devils are crafty negotiators and positively ruthless at enforcing the terms of an agreement. Moreover, a contract with even the lowliest devil is enforced by Asmodeus’s will. Any mortal creature that breaks such a contract instantly forfeits its soul, which is spirited away to the Nine Hells.
To own a creature’s soul is to have absolute control over that creature, and most devils accept no other currency in exchange for the fiendish power and boons they can provide. A soul is usually forfeited when a mortal dies naturally, for devils are immortal and can wait years for a contract to play out. If a contract allows a devil to claim a mortal’s soul before death, it can instantly return to the Nine Hells with the soul in its possession. Only divine intervention can release a soul after a devil has claimed it.
The Infernal Hierarchy. The Nine Hells has a rigid hierarchy that defines every aspect of its society. Asmodeus is the supreme ruler of all devils, and the only creature in the Nine Hells with the powers of a lesser god. Worshiped as such in the Material Plane, Asmodeus inspires the evil humanoid cults that take his name. In the Nine Hells, he commands scores of pit fiend generals, which in turn command legions of subordinates.
A supreme tyrant, a brilliant deceiver, and a master of subtlety, Asmodeus protects his throne by keeping his friends close and his enemies closer. He delegates most matters of rulership to the pit fiends and lesser archdevils that make up the infernal bureaucracy of the Nine Hells, even as he knows that those powerful devils conspire to usurp the Throne of Baator from which he rules. Asmodeus appoints archdevils, and he can strip any member of the infernal hierarchy of rank and status as he likes.
If it dies outside the Nine Hells, a devil disappears in a cloud of sulfurous smoke or dissolves into a pool of ichor, instantly returning to its home layer, where it reforms at full strength. Devils that die in the Nine Hells are destroyed forever — a fate that even Asmodeus fears.
Archdevils. The archdevils include all the current and deposed rulers of the Nine Hells (see the Layers and Lords of the Nine Hells table), as well as the dukes and duchesses that make up their courts, attend them as advisers, and hope to supplant them. Every archdevil is a unique being with an appearance that reflects its particular evil nature.
Greater Devils. The greater devils include the pit fiends, erinyes, horned devils, and ice devils that command lesser devils and attend the archdevils.
Lesser Devils. The lesser devils include numerous strains of fiends, including imps, chain devils, spined devils, bearded devils, barbed devils, and bone devils.
Lemures. The lowest form of devil, lemures are the twisted and tormented souls of evil and corrupted mortals. A lemure killed in the Nine Hells is only permanently destroyed if it is killed with a blessed weapon or if its shapeless corpse is splashed with holy water before it can return to life.
Promotion and Demotion. When the soul of an evil mortal sinks into the Nine Hells, it takes on the physical form of a wretched lemure. Archdevils and greater devils have the power to promote lemures to lesser devils. Archdevils can promote lesser devils to greater devils, and Asmodeus alone can promote a greater devil to archdevil status. This diabolic promotion invokes a brief, painful transformation, with the devil’s memories passing intact from one form to the next.
Low-level promotions are typically based on need, such as when a pit fiend transforms lemures into imps to gain invisible spies under its command. High-level promotions are almost always based on merit, such as when a bone devil that distinguishes itself in battle is transformed into a horned devil by the archdevil it serves. A devil is seldom promoted more than one step at a time in the hierarchy of infernal forms.
Infernal Hierarchy
1. lemure
Lesser devils
2. imp
3. spined devil
4. bearded devil
5. barbed devil
6. chain devil
7. bone devil
Greater devils
8. horned devil
9. erinyes
10. ice devil
11. pit fiend
Archdevils
12. duke or duchess
13. archduke or archduchess
Demotion is the customary punishment for failure or disobedience among the devils. Archdevils or greater devils can demote a lesser devil to a lemure, which loses all memory of its prior existence. An archdevil can demote a greater devil to lesser devil status, but the demoted devil retains its memories — and might seek vengeance if the severity of the demotion is excessive.
No devil can promote or demote another devil that has not sworn fealty to it, preventing rival archdevils from demoting each other’s most powerful servants. Since all devils swear fealty to Asmodeus, he can freely demote any other devil, transforming it into whatever infernal form he desires.
The Nine Hells of Baator. The Nine Hells are a single plane comprising nine separate layers. The first eight layers are each ruled by archdevils that answer to the greatest archdevil of all: Asmodeus, the Archduke of Nessus, the ninth layer. To reach the deepest layer of the Nine Hells, one must descend through all eight of the layers above it, in order. The most expeditious means of doing so is the River Styx, which plunges ever deeper as it flows from one layer to the next. Only the most courageous adventurers can withstand the torment and horror of that journey.
(from Planescape Monstrous Compendium Appendix I - 1994 - [credits])
Baatezu are a strong, evil-tempered, well-organized race of fiends. In their rigid caste system, authority derives not only from power but from station. Changes in station come from participation in the Blood War or (as is more often the case) from the high attrition rate in the upper ranks. If a baatezu performs a great feat that cripples the enemy, it is rewarded by promotion - actually a physical transformation - to a higher station.
The baatezu pursue two obsessive goals. First and foremost, they wish to destroy their ancient blood enemies, the tanar’ri. Both races treat the conflict not only as a war of annihilation, but as a definition of existence.
Second, the baatezu have recently (by immortal standards) noticed a small but interesting group of beings: humanity. By infiltrating humankind’s world and gaining followers there, the baatezu gain magical energy and, thus, power over the tanar’ri. Toward this end they strive to dominate humanity by convincing victims they have godlike powers.
In contrast to the chaotic evil tanar’ri, baatezu pursue a long-range goal of dominion by their whole race throughout the planes. They prefer to encourage humanity’s intellectual evils, such as pride and ambition, rather than the immediate sensual appetites tanar’ri exploit.
In appearance the baatezu are diverse, though a Gothic gargoyle look, grotesque and unsightly by human standards, is common. Baatezu types fall into three divisions: + Greater (amnizu, cornugon, gelugon, pit fiend). + Lesser (abishai, barbazu, erinyes, hamatula, osyluth). + Least (nupperibo, spinagon).
The lemures (a fourth variety) rank so low that they don’t even qualify as “least” in the baatezu scheme. Baatezu consider them the very bottom in station. However, scholars customarily number them among the types for the sake of completeness.
Planar Travel: Baatezu can travel to Baator, any lower plane, the Outlands, and the Astral Plane. However, they cannot enter the Prime Material Plane or Upper Planes unless properly summoned. Least and lesser baatezu are subject to a combination of magical signs that, when inscribed and a gate spell cast, bind them to service for nine days, keeping them, from harming the caster. The greater baatezu can likewise be commanded or kept at bay for nine hours.
Accession: The baatezu, with their evil, twisted honor, have a definite path of progress. By performing deeds that further the cause of evil, one gains honors, station, and power. For instance, an enterprising spinagon might advance and, in a long and torturous process, transform into an abishai. Often, too, a baatezu simply “disappears,” whereupon its immediate subordinate takes its place in the chain of command. Covert assassination is common among the baatezu.
The Dark Eight: In the fortress of Malsheem on the layer of Nessus there meet eight of the most powerful pit fiends in Baator: Furcas, Baalzephon, zimimar, zapan Zaebos, Corin, Dagos, and Pearza. These ominous lords meet four times per year to determine policy, including strategy against the tanar’ri and promotions of lower baatezu. To draw the attention of these eight powerful beings is to invite destruction. Strangely, these eight rulers have reigned for many years, seemingly immune to the assassinations so common in the upper ranks.
Combat: All baatezu except for lemures, nupperibo, and spinagons have the spell-like abilities advanced illusion, animate dead, charm person, infravision, know alignment (always active), suggestion, and teleport without error. The baatezu can summon their fellows, as detailed in their individual descriptions. Because they have a special form of telepathy, baatezu can understand and converse with any intelligent creature. Only least and lesser baatezu take damage from ordinary nonmagical weapons. The other varieties of baatezu are harmed only by magical weapons or weapons of silver.
Baatezu are affected by the following attack forms:
Acid = Full
Cold = Half*
Electricity = Full
Fire (dragon, magical) = None*
Gas (poisonous, etc.) = Half
Iron Weapon = None**
Magic Missile = Full
Poison = None
Silver Weapon = Full***
*: The gulugon takes half damage from fire and none from cold.
**: Unless affected by normal weapons, in which case damage is according to weapon type.
***: Greater baatezu take only half damage from silver weapons.
(from Fiendish Codex II: Tyrants of the Nine Hells - 2006 - [credits])
THE PACT PRIMEVAL
The best way to understand devils and their ways is to listen to the stories they tell about themselves. The most famous of these tales have propagated as myths throughout all the worlds of the Material Plane, becoming familiar to mortals of all sorts. But as is often the case with legends, contradictions abound. For example, the tale of the Pact Primeval is the accepted version of the multiverse’s creation. But an alternate story claims Asmodeus as the fallen creator of the universe.
Countless cultures have their own versions of the Pact Primeval legend. The names of the deities featured in it change depending on where it is told, but the names of the devils are always the same. Perhaps this fact is what inspired Philogestes, the accursed philosopher of evil, to pen his famous proverb: “The gods exist in multiplicity, but Asmodeus is unique.”
As is the case with any myth worthy of the name, the following tale is true—whether or not it actually happened.
In the beginning—and even before—chaos was all that existed. Out of it came demons—the living manifestations of chaos. Time had not yet been invented, so the demons fought each other continuously in a vortex of disorder over an immeasurable period.
A state of raw chaos was intolerable to the universe, so a force arose to combat it—the power of law. From this principle of abstract order, a number of beings coalesced to combat the demons.
These new deities of law suited themselves in gleaming armor made of pure stability and took up weapons forged of ideal thought. Then they waded into battle against the demons. After the battle had raged for uncounted eons, the law deities felt the need to track their progress. They created numbers, to record the enemies slain, and time, so they could see how long victory would take.
Gradually, however, the deities of law began to suspect that the supply of demons was infinite. Weary of battle, they wished to move on to other projects, such as the creation of worlds and intelligent beings. So they made beautiful winged warriors to serve them and wield their divine magic, both in the endless war against the demons and in the worlds yet to be created. These beings, glorious in their diversity, were called angels.
The bravest, toughest, fiercest, and most beautiful of the angels was Asmodeus. He slew more demons than any other of his kind—more even than any deity. But as the eons wore on, Asmodeus and the members of his magnificent and terrible company began to take on some of their enemies’ traits, so as to fight them more effectively. Gradually, their beauty turned to ugliness, and the deities and other angels began to fear them. Eventually, the inhabitants of the celestial realms petitioned the great gods to banish Asmodeus and the most fearsome of his avenging angels. So Asmodeus was put on trial before Heironeous, the god of valor.
The darkest of the angels responded readily to the charges, reading from the great tablets of law that he had helped to carve. “The first duty of law is to destroy chaos,” he argued. “I have performed this duty better than any.”
“You have made war, and made it well,” Heironeous agreed. “Yet you and your company have poisoned yourselves in the process. Can you not go elsewhere, lest we become contaminated too?”
Asmodeus smiled, and the smoke of a thousand battlefields rose from his lips. “As Lord of Battle,” he pointed out, “you should know better than any that war is a dirty business. We have blackened ourselves so that you can remain golden. We have upheld the laws, not broken them. Therefore, you may not cast us out.”
The gods huddled together to discuss what they had heard. Great was their consternation when they could find no counters in their tablets of law to Asmodeus’s arguments. The dark angel knew the laws better than they did and could wield their clauses like a knife.
With the passage of time, Asmodeus and his warband grew ever more alarming in aspect. Fangs jutted from their mouths, their tongues grew forked, and they wreathed their bodies in mantles of fire. The deities built new citadels to escape them, but Asmodeus and his followers penetrated these as well. They sued the gods under their own laws, demanding full access to all the privileges accorded champions of order. The deities were distressed but could find no lawful way to stop them.
So the gods retreated to their great project—the creation of mortals, and of verdant worlds for those favored beings to live on. But when demons invaded these worlds, the warbands of Asmodeus were called upon to stop them. Although the voracious hosts of the tanar’ri were no easier to vanquish on the new worlds of the Material Plane than they had been on the battlegrounds of the Outer Planes, Asmodeus and his dark angels generally succeeded in driving them back. Together, the gods and angels created barriers on the Material Plane to keep the demons at bay. They erected walls, threw up ranges of mountains, covered portions of their worlds with icy wastes, and buried the entrances the demons had used under vast oceans. Thus were the newly created worlds, like Asmodeus and his lot, scarred and made ugly for the greater benefit of law.
Then the deities of order made a horrifying discovery. The mortals they had created—their pride and joy—immediately set to work tearing down these barriers. They scaled walls, climbed mountains, and traversed glaciers to let the demons back in. Upon returning to the Material Plane, the demons ran riot, destroying one earthly paradise after another.
The deities were angry but also confused. “Why did my sweet halflings do this to me?” cried Yondalla, who had created them. “I invented mountains and set my clever dwarves as their protectors!” thundered Moradin. “Why did they tunnel under them and into the demon crypts?”
The gods wailed and lamented until Asmodeus came to them with the answer. “Your mortals are taking these actions because you gave them minds of their own.”
“Of course we did!” said the deities. “Without free will, the choice to follow the law means nothing.”
“Indeed,” replied Asmodeus, crushing a small insect that had crawled out of his neatly trimmed red beard. “They are curious creatures, these mortals, and the demons have promised them freedom. Soon they will learn that the liberty dangled before them is that of absolute anarchy, and that in a demon realm, they are free only to be destroyed. But by then, it will be too late for them. You might create more worlds and more mortals to people them, but I promise you, the same folly will recur eternally.”
When the gods realized the truth of the dark angel’s words, they were downcast. They rent their garments and wailed in despair.
“I have the solution that eludes you,” said Asmodeus, “one that will allow your precious mortals to retain the free will you have so benefi cently given them. The problem is this,” he continued. “Your law is one of voluntary obedience. You command the mortals to abjure chaos, but what happens when they disobey you?”
The deities had no answer. “We are their creators,” moaned Yondalla. “Of course they should heed us.”
“Indeed they should,” replied Asmodeus, bowing gallantly to the fair Yondalla. “But they do not, because there can be no law without Punishment.
“Punishment?” muttered the host of deities and godlings. “What is this Punishment of which you speak?”
Asmodeus pulled it from its sheath. At this time, Punishment was shaped like a mighty sword, though it has taken on many forms since then. “I have invented this item for you as the ultimate weapon of law. When laws are broken, the wrongdoers must be made to suffer as a warning to others. Thus, mortals can choose between the paradise of rightful action and the torment of wickedness. A few will suffer Punishment so that the majority can see the consequences of lawbreaking.”
The gods were disquieted by this pronouncement, but as usual, they could find no flaws in their champion’s logic. How could mortals be expected to choose virtue if evil went unpunished?
At last, one of the godlings stepped forward and said, “Yes, retribution is the basis of all law.” These words transformed him on the spot into the greater deity now known as St. Cuthbert.
On that day, the deities began to see that law and chaos were not the only principles in the universe. Good and evil were natural forces in the cosmos as well. So the gods separated themselves from one other on that basis. Deities such as Hecate and Set offered patronage to Asmodeus’s poisoned angels, while Heironeous and some of the others drew back from them still more.
So the deities handed down their new laws and sent their clerics through mortal lands to announce that the punishment for sin would be torment. The gods were pleased with the arrangement. They truly thought that everyone would obey and that no one would actually be punished.
But as mortals died, some souls trickled into the celestial planes who bore the stink of transgression. Asmodeus, aided by Dispater, Mephistopheles, and others of his dark brigade, set about their lawful punishment. They flayed these sinners, and burned them, and placed them on racks.
The shrieks of the damned reverberated throughout the heavens, and the flowers in the gods’ idyllic gardens dripped with blood. The deities of law tried to shut their ears, but they could not abide the horror. So they put Asmodeus in chains and again charged him with high crimes against them.
“I have merely done what I said I would, under the laws you drafted,” said Asmodeus. Again, the gods had to admit he was right.
“But I have a proposal for you,” the grim champion continued. “You wish to see the law upheld, but you do not care to witness its ranker consequences. So to preserve your delicate sensibilities, my followers and I will take our project elsewhere. We will build a perfect Hell for you. You will gain from its existence but need never lay eyes upon it. We shall put it . . . there.” And he pointed to an empty land, which is now called Baator.
“Yes, yes!” said all the deities. “You must move your Hell there, forthwith!”
“Nothing would please me more,” said Asmodeus. He extended his hand, and a ruby rod of power appeared in it. “But first, we must make a pact.”
“A pact?” asked Moradin suspiciously.
“Yes, indeed,” said Asmodeus, producing a document with a wave of his hand. “It is to your benefit to ensure that we, who labor for you in a place you will not venture, continue to carry out your will. This agreement specifies the fate of damned souls. In exchange, it allows us to draw magic from these souls, so we can fuel our spells and maintain our powers.”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” said the flinty Moradin.
“Your concerns are entirely understandable, O Maker of Dwarves,” said Asmodeus in his most reassuring tone. “But since we will be separated from you, we will not be able to draw our powers from you, as we always have. You would not wish to make us gods independent of yourselves, would you?”
“Assuredly not!” huffed Moradin, appalled at the thought.
“So instead, take this lesser measure, and simply sign this pact,” he said with a smile. Thus, the law deities signed the agreement that determined the boundaries of Hell and the rules for the transmission of wicked souls. Today, mortals know this document as the Pact Primeval.
Once it was signed, Asmodeus, Mephistopheles, and Dispater decamped to Baator, which was then a bleak and featureless plain. With them went a host of other dark angels that called themselves erinyes.
“What have you gotten us into?” Mephistopheles moaned.
“This place has nothing!” Dispater complained.
“Just wait,” said Asmodeus. Then he explained his plan.
The deities of virtuous law reveled in their newly purified celestial domains, now free of the cruel angels’ degradation for the first time. It was not for many years, in mortal terms, that they discovered an alarming drop in the number of souls being transmitted to their various heavens. Upon conferring with their clergy, they realized that devils were corrupting mortals and ensuring their damnation by turning them toward evil.
The deities formed a delegation, which set off immediately for Baator. To their surprise, the once-featureless plain had been transformed into nine tiers of monstrous horror and torment. Within its confines, they found countless souls writhing in pain. They saw these souls transformed, first into crawling, mindless monsters, and eventually into an army of powerful devils.
“What goes on here?” Heironeous demanded.
“You have granted us the power to harvest souls,” replied Asmodeus. “To build our Hell and gird our might for the task set before us, we naturally had to find ways to improve our yield.”
The war deity drew forth his longsword of crackling lightning. “It is your job to punish transgressions, not to encourage them!” he cried.
Asmodeus smiled, and a venomous moth flew out from between his sharpened teeth. “Read the fine print,” he replied.
