Hell does not have a legitimate publishing industry,
obviously: if they did, then they'd have to publish
books, and of course you can't let books be freely
available in Hell (if you could, then it wouldn't be
Hell in the first place). What few actual books exist
are usually props, exhibits or prophecies. None of
the Princes are really interested in changing this,
either: after all, they can get books if they want to,
so who cares about anybody else?
However ... Hell does have a literary subculture, in
it's own inimitable fashion. The basic format would
be familiar to anyone that lived in a totalitarian
society: books of poetry, prose and drama circulate in
a furtive fashion, endlessly copied, read, then passed
on again - and all underneath demonic noses that range
from vigilant to uncaring. Of course, this being
Hell, there are unique problems.
The first problem is creating the works in the first
place. As has been noted elsewhere, Hell is extremely
short of resources, at least among damned souls. Most
printers use simple mechanical presses cobbled
together from whatever scraps of metal and wood become
available (when they haven't resorted to bone - or
even less savory materials). The average publisher
husbands his or her movable type as if it were gold:
any of them will cheerfully murder another for another
twenty E's. There's also the issue of paper and ink.
Don't look too carefully at the ink on a book
published by the Infernal counterculture - in fact,
try not to too closely examine the paper, either.
Reproduction of books is a problem, as well. Most
printers are constantly moving, even in Shal-Mari or
Stygia (the two places where damned souls have the
best hopes of bribing their demonic overlords into
looking the other way): the average print run of a
book is usually half a dozen copies. Unlike human
samzidat networks, photocopiers or mimeograph machines
are not available to help get the message out. Hell,
secret wars have been fought for the possession of a
working stapler. Most underground books in Hell are
thus hand-copied and crudely stitched together (need I
say, don't examine the stitching too carefully), not
to mention falling apart from the number of hands it's
passed through. This is not a place to appreciate
books for their artistry.
That leads to the third problem: the words on the ...
well, best to think of it as 'paper'. Most corporeal
literature isn't very well received in Hell, you see.
It's too hopeful, too happy, too naive to resonate
with the inhabitants. Equally unfortunately, actual
writing ability is in short supply among the damned.
The result of this is that most of the books
circulating among the various networks would be
considered by any objective observer as being not
worth the trouble to publish. Monotonously despondent
verse, incoherently self-contradictory subversion,
ungrammatical rants and a certain amount of whining
are the hallmarks of Infernal literature. It all gets
read anyway, of course: the level of intellectual
stimulation is really that low.
The centers of the Infernal literary 'movements' are,
as mentioned above, Stygia and Shal-Mari: the
bribery's easier, and more likely to work. Most
customers are from those two Principalities as well,
but these books can end up anywhere. What passes for
an elite among damned souls usually have a volume or
two hidden away in their meager personal possessions,
although very few actually dare to read them - even in
Hell, pretensions to intellectual ability is a popular
pastime.
Oddly enough, for the most part the Princes don't
bother to stamp out this little practice - either they
don't really care, or else have noted that it's acting
as an inadvertent safety valve. Demons will take
immense gratification in beating up any soul that they
discover carrying around a book - if they feel like
it. It's a useful justification for punishment (not
that one's really necessary, of course), but not
really a burning issue. Indeed, some demons find it
amusing to commission a printer to publish one of
their manuscripts and have it disseminated. For one
thing, the demons are often better writers...
Seed: The Inevitable Belial Slam
Every so often, a gem or two gets discovered in the
muck. Well, not a gem - but maybe a crystal or two of
potassium nitrate. The metaphor is deliberate: the
latest piece of not-quite-crap offers to be quite
explosive, if prepared correctly.
The book in question is called 101 Things to Do With a
Dead Prince of Infernal Fire, and it's actually not
too bad, by Hell's standards. In fact, one or two of
the crudely drawn pictures might even raise a chuckle
on Earth. This has made it the Instant Classic of the
Infernal Samzidat circuit, naturally, and some of the
choicer illustrations are even getting painted on
walls.
Needless to say, Belial is not amused - although some
of his colleagues are - and wants to find the author
responsible, now. He's managed to prevail upon Kronos
to loan him a Balseraph (Seraph) of Fate to get to the
bottom of this - and has handed him off to a group of
investigators (the PCs, naturally). Objective: find
author, find printer, drag them back to Belial and
duck.
Needless to say, this is an excellent opportunity to
get a good look at the Damned intellectual subculture,
such as it is. Feel free to toss in your favorite
cliches, from poseur-Goth to beatnik to white-bread
book circles - heck, use all of them at once.
Needless to say, the Balseraph is probably going to be
near his Use By date by now (Balseraphs of Fate with
the Seraphim resonance tend to not last very long.
Funny about that), so the longer he's with the PCs,
the twitchier - or actively murderous - he'll be.
Toss in a few cartons of clove cigarettes (worth their
weight in refined plutonium), and you've got a seed.
Now, the natural inclination is to have Kobal and/or
Michael ultimately responsible, right? Shame on you.
Furfur is a much better choice: the humor's certainly
in his style, and it's been kind of fun being a little
more subtle for a change. Of course, he's already
soul-killed the printer and scattered the press across
Hell, but since when has that ever stopped a clever
demon?
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