[ WP ] Hell is n't a burning pool of sulfur , but rather every minor annoyance you can think of , one after the other .

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 I've never been a tremendous believer in the afterlife. Like many of those within the growing movement of modern-world agnostics, I was much more prone to rationalizing the stoic but bleak perspective that when I final had the misfortune of biting dust I'd just be gone. No heaven, no purgatory, and probably no reincarnation as a barnacle or sea-sponge. It was all just for the better that I not to even think about it lest I let some malignant form of existential dread ruin my run of the mortal gambit. 
 
 Of course that was once much easier said and done, but as fate and madness might provide: Recently my life seemed to fit into a much less straight-forward mold. Where I was once a simple existence with simple goals, as of the past few months I would argue that my easy-going life was more or less ended and replaced. 
 
 That's not to say or even suggest that I had died ( though I could count several circumstances where that had been a plausible outcome ) but certainly to portray that I was now well on my way into a never-ending stretch of annoyances that seemed to attach themselves to my person like they were covered in pine-sap and gorilla glue. 
 
 In no particular order, I had been thrown into another dimension, attacked by Goblins, by vampires, by Ghouls and even a Yeti. I'd been forced into indentured servitude by a Magic-using Guild-owning sociopath, and had been forced to convert my car into poorly running on moonshine. I'd watched dark magics block out the sky, cleaned out Goblin corpses from my wheel-wells, been throttled by a madman, and been forcibly drafted into a Holy Crusade. During this *wonderful* adventure I had been stabbed no less than three times. 
 
 As for icing on the cake, my trailer had also long-since run out of toilet paper. 
 
 Though I'd never much believed in it before, I knew I was in a special kind of Hell. Not a burning pool of sulfur, but rather every single minor frustration I could think of rolling down like an endless tumble over-top my futile efforts to stem the tide. Approaching the subject with a rational mind was no longer possible, for the world obviously cared little for my opinions on what it could and could not do, and I'd all but given up trying to voice them. 
 
 For the current moment, it seemed my purpose was to politely interrogate enemy prisoners under the watching eyes of said previously mentioned Guild-owning Sociopath. 
 
 `` So you all worked for the Evil Wizard?'' I asked the question more as a formality, eyeing the three figures standing beside the regal form of their captor. Each one of them was wearing dark cloth, black robes and seals of brutal looking runes that were dyed with what I could only guess was blood. 
 
 `` Yes Sir, although we would never call him that. Lord Gillian much preferred the title Dark Lord, or Blackened Mage of the... West...'' The Youngest of the group trailed of, perhaps realizing his predicament at last. The boy's clothing not exactly fitting his person, less than noble clothes worn beneath the odd black robes which covered lofting a scent not terribly far off from pinesol. `` We left the tower to escape before he comes back. He'd kill us if he found us.'' 
 
 `` Right.'' I replied, sitting as formally as my wounded stomach and leg would allow. They hurt rather badly, but it seemed that no one in this world had ever bothered to create painkillers that were n't highly additive and deemed outlawed by the Holy Church. If only I had n't used the last of of my Tylenol on minor aches and pains months ago. `` Right, you said that before. You rebelled, it was an interesting story.'' 
 
 I motioned towards the woman in the center of the trio, arms wrapped tightly to her sides just like the other two by odd-looking silver chain. Glancing over at the man who had brought them in to my tiny home on wheels provided little explanation for the material, but I had to assume it probably related to magic. 
 
 When it doubt, I'd take it to mind that most things came back to magic. 
 
 `` The Dark Lord has been raising Mages from the Human settlements he deems worthy of protection. We-'' Her hand motioned to the taller man beside her, who was also dressed in black robes, `` Were in the fourth class of Mages for this Decade, personally trained for the Dark Lord's services.'' She spoke quietly, face more than wary of the well dressed man standing behind them. I supposed that made relative sense, considering Jarl Congrad had plainly stated he was putting them to death after this very conversation. 
 
 `` Tell him what it is that the Legendary *Blackened Mage of the West* had you all doing.'' Behind them my eyes caught a blue flourish of magic spark with an odd glow, as Jarl crossed his arms- eyes alight with interest. 
 
 The captured Mage-woman ( which I supposed meant she was a Witch by definition, although I was n't about to say that term aloud until I could be clarified on whether that title might be interpreted as an insult ) turned slightly with a look of disgust towards the regally dressed man behind her. For a second, I thought she might spit on his perfectly laced and gilded jacket. For more than a second, I was sincerely hopeful she would. 
 
 Jarl stared back, perfectly punchable smiling face just as overwhelmingly frustrating and aloof as it ever seemed to be; completely unperturbed. Eventually the woman thought better of whatever it was she was considering doing, returning to a more docile posture. 
 
 It made sense I supposed. She probably knew what the man was capable of considering he had been the one who rode out and captured all three of them more or less single-handedly, and then no doubt interrogated the trio before bringing them back. I was presuming that was why he'd brought them back at all- because they had something relevant to say to me, but I'd never been great at predicting what when on in Jarl's head. All I really knew for certain about the man was the moment I got back from this cluster-fuck of a War Campaign, my intention was to be heading as far away from him as possible. 
 
 Jarl Congrad was a well-dressed nightmare. 
 
 `` The Dark Lord used the Mages he trained to perform rituals using Chaos Magics.'' Of the captured trio, the taller man spoke this time. Hate filled eyes matched a tired and bruised face, and the faintest trace of dried blood beneath his nose- it looked to me as though he'd put up a struggle before Jarl wrapped him up in silver. `` He did this because manipulating Chaos is horribly dangerous and complicated. Each ritual he forced us to perform could cost dozens of lives, no matter how experienced. The space between worlds is filled with nightmares, and things no man or woman should witness.'' 
 
 `` Go on.'' Jarl lifted a gloved hand, raising a chain with a bright polished engraving that seemed to match the binds about the captured man's midsection. `` Do n't stop there in the weeds: Tell him the purpose of those rituals.'' 
 
 Despite that hate filled glares now shifted in my direction from two out of three of the chained prisoners, I almost wished to reassure them that I found Jarl's interest in my capacity more than worrisome and unwelcome than current appearances might suggest. 
 
 `` The Dark Lord wished to connect the planes beside our own world using the ancient spheres.'' The man continued with a hiss, staring at me with a look of disdain as the chains around his body seemed to constrict. `` The first rituals summoned creatures from other worlds and left tears between realities of our existence and the realms between. The final ritual only two days past succeeded, and he opened a stable portal. I surprised him and managed to push him through it, hopefully trapping him outside of our world.'' 
 
 `` Uh... huh. World travelling magics then.'' Well, truthfulness of the final mentioned portion aside, this would certainly explain some things I'd long suspected, although it brought up another set of questions entirely. `` Jarl... How long have you known, exactly?'' 
 
 `` Known?'' That punchable face was back again with a vengeance, along with countless memories of my effort to finally pay off the debt and massive interest he'd leveraged to force me into his Guild. `` What, that you're from another plane of existence? Since I met you, of course.'' 
 
 As he spoke, I watched as the three prisoners let their jaws drop as if they were unhinged. The youngest of them seemed to do so in amazement, while the woman and the taller man seemed to be leaning more towards horror. I had to wonder exactly what drove that reaction, but I presumed I could also write that off to the magics of an Evil wizard and some unspeakable eldritch horrors- or something of that nature. 
 
 `` And why exactly have you arranged for this exact circumstance?'' I pressed slightly, maintaining composure. Really, composure and a face trained by many games of texas hold'em were all I had left in my arsenal of tricks at this point. Jarl probably had the next thirty interactions planned out in all directions, like always. 
 
 `` What circumstance?'' His grin seemed befitting for a cat watching a mouse, idly deciding how hard he should bat his prey around before eating it. In my current state, bloody bandages and headache settled nicely over a dull sense of pain and discomfort, I was having none of his bullshit. `` I thought this information might hold value to you.''
