Baatorian Rhapsody
A nursery rhyme to teach young tieflings the names of Baator’s layers and lords
by Jon Winter-Holt
Oh Avernus, the hell of wrath,
Where fireballs split the sky.
The pit fiend Bel, scragged Zariel,
And left her caged to die.
The Bloody War still scars the land,
As wrathful armies fight.
Forgetful Styx, river of blood,
Completes this layer of spite.
[Chorus]
Nine layers of hell,
Baatezu dwell,
And the souls of the sinners as well!
Gluttonous Dis, the city of sin,
Where iron towers blaze.
Dispater hides, so paranoid,
Ruling from his maze.
Consuming burg, devouring all,
Leaving wasteland bare.
Baatezu scheme, play wicked games,
Machinations everywhere!
[Chorus]
In Minauros, the oily swamp,
Layer of greed and mould.
The Lord Mammon, that stingy berk,
Cares only for his gold.
Foundations fail, the city sinks,
The wettest part of town.
Mammon just hoards, too mean to fix,
So in his wealth he’ll drown!
[Chorus]
Phlegethos, the hell of lust,
Burns with fiery heat.
The Lord Belial, with daughter vile,
Forbidden passions deep.
The funeral pyre, the lake of fire,
The palaces of flame.
This blazing realm, the flaming hell,
The burning souls in pain.
[Chorus]
In Stygia, the hell of cold,
Dirty ice and woe.
Levistus rules, although he’s trapped,
Inside an icy floe.
With promises, with treachery,
His punishment he earned.
He tried to bob Asmodeus,
By Bensozia was spurned.
[Chorus]
Now Malbolge, the hell of sloth,
Rules by that hag no more.
She cast a spell, but not so well,
Exploded into gore!
Now Glazya rules, but lazily,
She doesn’t care for work.
This place is bad, I warn you lad,
If you come here you’re a berk!
[Chorus]
Now let’s see, Maladomini,
Called the hell of pride.
The vanity, of Beeelzee’
Meant all his cities died.
Politicking in style, the city of guile,
Called Grenopoli,
Baatezu scheme, they jostle and dream
Of Blood War victory!
[Chorus]
We’re getting near, now Cania
Hell of jealousy,
You’ll shiver and sneeze, Mephistopheles,
His envious legacy.
This layer of ice, you should think twice,
Before you cross that bridge.
The chains may snap, it’s just a trap,
To drop you off the ridge!
[Chorus]
Nessus is it, the deepest pit,
You haven’t got a prayer.
The hell of pride, so deep inside,
Old Asmodeus’ lair.
He pulls the strings, of many things,
For souls of the sinners he yearns.
In the darkest place, he hides his face,
His consuming hatred burns.
So that was hell,
Baatezu dwell,
And the souls of the sinners as well!
