Thoz managed to blink himself awake back in Hell after his physical body had been utterly annihilated by the cascade of stones brought on by whatever that giant creature was. A quick inventory of his soul’s projection within hell confirmed that his form had not changed. Unfortunately. The imp was, without a doubt, still that. At least he was used to it. Hopefully there’d be a gap between his next contract so he could figure out whatever the fuck was happening on the mortal plane. First though, the little devil had an idea that was almost too practical for his otherwise astoundingly stupid self.

“Statuses!”

…..

Or it would have been if it worked.

It appeared that whatever magic functioned to create a physical manifestation of Thozronnath’s devilish soul form only worked when he was summoned outside of hell. The poor little creature didn’t know this was a boon to him however. Had Thoz actually been able to see his own status, he would have been completely dejected by how quantifiable his pathetic nature was.

He wasn’t one to stew upon things he couldn’t change or control though. In fact, Thoz was just relieved to have made it safely back to Hell. Despite the toxic air, constant beatings, and horrific torture, it was the only home he’d ever had. This feeling of relief would come to an abrupt end almost immediately, as Thoz was quickly trampled under foot by a cohort of Devils passing through.

Being in hell, he was physically incapable of dying to physical trauma. A permanent death for a devil in hell required their soul being sundered into pieces, completely purified, or consumed by another. All of this to say, Thoz had every bone in his body broken, and the claws of the devils above him ripped and tore at the wings on his back until they were in tatters.

When he finally started reforming under the hellish energy pouring into his body, he managed to look up and see the group of Torment Devils disappearing in the distance. Similar to a Legionary Devil, but of a higher rank, Torment Devils were deep purple humanoids. Their hands and feet both ended in four wicked claws each, and they wielded a prehensile tail like many other devils. What set the Torment Devil apart from its underlings though, was their ability to manipulate hellfire, that and their skin. Every inch of a Torment Devil’s body was covered in spikes, barbs, and serrations. If a hypothetical enemy managed to endure their onslaught of hellfire bolts long enough to get close, they would only find themselves impaled, skewered, or sliced on the many natural weapons the devil’s body boasted.

Regaining control of his senses also gave Thozronnath just enough time to scramble out of the way of a second battalion of the infernal spike balls as they marched directly through where he was laying previously. In passing, one of them broke it’s gaze away from formation just long enough to bark a few orders in the tiny imp’s direction.

“Hey! Quit loafing around brimstone-brain, there’s a fucking war on. Get your ass to the smitheries and start loading coals!”

The sudden verbal assault shook Thoz out of his stupor, sending him flying off in a random direction towards the nearest infernal armsmith. The imp had no idea when or how a war had started, though thankfully he did know what a war was. Devils were well versed in all that was wicked and vile like that. His mind began wandering in the brief moment of solitude he had as he flew, and by the time he finally arrived at the smithy he came to the conclusion he always came to.

Thoz is not allowed to ask questions.

Our fiendish friend was immediately put to work upon his arrival in the weapon shop, and subsequently spent the next six hundred years (approximately) shoveling, lifting, pushing, or stacking coals. During which time he learned a fair bit about the ongoing war. Firstly, the entity that nearly stepped on him was likely a god. The current war was being heralded as a “Divine War” mostly because the gods themselves had physically manifested onto the mortal plane.

Thoz hoped that the god in question was not his king. The Lord of Hell was technically a god, but a giant foot in the sky didn’t really seem like his style. Even if it was him though, Thozronnath knew it made no difference to his liege whether or not a few low rank devils got crushed when he sneezed, let alone took a step.

The second thing he learned was that the gods weren’t actually fighting each other. That took some getting used to, as those facts came a few decades apart and Thoz had to overturn all sorts of assumptions by that point. As it turns out, the gods were defending from an invasion. Strange creatures from outside any of the known planes had stumbled into this reality and begun warping and consuming their way through. This obviously had to be stopped.

Good and evil, Order and Chaos, all the opposing forces in the world banded together to repel the entities that defied comprehension. Thoz dubbed these beings he had never seen as “E’s”, Short for Extra Existential Entity. Though not in as many words or syllables, as Thoz was without a doubt, an idiot. Currently, the gods were fighting against the E’s and frequently falling into petty squabbles with each other, so the war was slow going. Even by deific standards, a thousand year conflict was a bit long. Even then, there was no end in sight.

Thozronnath learned this last truth first hand when he received another message.

Congratulations! His Lordship has granted you a contract. Your summoning will begin shortly. Physical manifestation currently under construction.

Truthfully, these past few centuries Thoz hadn’t spent much time considering what he would do if he received another contract. Sure, the first few decades, maybe, but after that? Not a chance. Imps didn’t have the luxury of pointless thoughts like that, getting caught slacking even slightly was a direct translation to having your bones broken or your skin flayed off.

Though in that moment as he felt his consciousness begin to fade from his body for the second time ever, something very rare occurred to Thoz. He had a thought.

“Statuses!”

…..

It was a stupid one, as expected, but it was still a landmark for the poor creature. He had seen for a fact that the supposed status system didn’t work when he was in hell, he just didn’t remember that fact. Thoz didn’t remember many facts for that matter, but that’s not the point.

In the same moment as disappointment washed over him, Thoz felt the tugging on the back of his mind that accompanied the first summoning, within seconds his body was hurled into the space between planes and his consciousness sundered from it. His ego tumbled chaotically in a liminal space between life and nonexistence. Seconds stretched into eternities and folded back in on themselves as a new form was tethered to his now unbound soul.

If the perpetually frightened devil had been capable of speech at that moment, he might have commented something about it being worse than a plague devil but not quite as scary as a pit fiend. Thoz was terrified of pit fiends.

Seconds later he became conscious of himself once more, and blinked under a strangely bright lamp in the sky. Did the mortals have to deal with that all the time? Hell was bright, but by fuck it wasn’t this bright.

Physical manifestation completed. Congratulations! You are now a level 1 Imp. Remember to check your status for your specifications, and please comply with your summoner's requests to the best of your ability while trying to claim their soul.

A message fell into the mind of an ecstatic imp. Thoz looked around and caught sight of a flesh-thing that was probably his summoner. It was larger than the last one if he was recalling correctly, and far less hairy. Though it had pointed ears like Thoz did, so maybe it was part imp?

This being was of course an elf. A fact Thoz would learn if he remembered to read the status he was so utterly waiting for just a moment ago, as he now contained the elvish language. Thoz was too busy for that though, or rather, his summoner was. The elf had a look of abject horror on his face as he stared into the sky behind Thozronnath, the faint smell of urine permeated the air around him as he fainted into a heap.

“Do flesh-things does that?” Thoz asked out loud. His first “cohesive” sentence on the mortal plane. The answer was of course no, they don’t just faint randomly in puddles of their own piss. The imp realized this as he turned around.

Behind him was a massive tentacle, easily kilometers long, and deeply black to the point the light around it seemed to be absorbed by its presence. Thoz mistook it for a tail at first, thinking one of the gods might be part imp, but this was quickly proven false when a crack of lightning illuminated the shadows of a dozen other writhing tentacles behind the overcast cloud cover.

Thoz, as a devil, was rather resistant to things that assaulted one’s sanity. He was completely scared shitless regardless, but he didn’t immediately pass out like his summoner did. His fear paralyzed him however, and if imps were capable of urinating, he probably would have.

Our tiny terrified travesty was so utterly scared that he couldn’t move. The gods stepping on mountains was at least an existence of this world, something his mind could comprehend. The shadows of tentacles Thoz was seeing was his mind’s attempt at rationalizing a being that didn’t obey this world’s natural laws. He wouldn’t be able to articulate this thought to you though, as he was currently watching one such tentacle drop towards him at alarming speed.

The imp, utterly motionless, only managed to eek out one single word before the impact.

“Statuses?”

The being, obviously one of the E’s to any creature with measurable IQ, struck the ground a few hundred meters in front of the imp, and it’s limb carried forward with massive momentum. Trees exploded into splinters, the ground shook with the force of the impact, and rocks and soil were sent flying in all directions.

When it met up to our Imp and his summoner, he received a flurry of messages simultaneously.

Congratulations! Your summoner has been slain. The remaining duration of your contracted time is now yours to do as you please. A penance fee of 5 souls has been deducted from your account for failing to produce a profit from your contracted obligations. New balance: -10 souls.

Followed immediately by

You have suffered a major injury. -5 HP. Congratulations! You have died.

And then finally, his long awaited status.

General Stats Classes Level Name: Thozronnath "The Pitiful" Strength: -2 Imp 1 Species: Imp (Lesser Devil) Dexterity: 1 Sex: N/A Resilience: 2 Age: 1005 Intelligence: 0 Affiliation(s): Hell Wisdom: 1 HP: 0/5 (+0/sec) Charisma: -1 MP: 10/10 (+0.01/sec) Skill Level Invisibility 1 Stealth 1 Subterfuge 2 Silver Vulnerability 1 (Max) Fire Immunity 1 (Max) Shapeshifter 1 Eyes of Hell 1 (Max) Sting 1