Mother, an ancient and powerful Succubus, was finally the new Lord of Fire. After years of secret moves and whispered suggestions, they had still nearly outsmarted her. Fortunately they had chosen to try and patsy an imp who had already been under her influence for many, many years.
Thinking of how it all worked out, she smiled to herself and settled into her new throne. There would need to be a lot of restructuring, flushing out those not loyal to her and destroying them before they could become a problem. Before that, however, she needed to reward those who helped her plans finally culminate. She steepled her fingertips, each ending in a razor sharp claw, and nodded for the ancient and corpulent imp known as Q’are’zl (Karl) to approach.
As he sidled up to her throne, he did not make eye contact. Clearing his throat he finally spoke in a nasal whine, “Yes your most deceitfulness, how can I be of service?”
She surveyed him from hoof to horn and finally, in a sultry yet nurturing voice said, “You have not received your reward for so successfully and loyally completing your contract. I have something quite interesting in mind.”
He cowardly sniveled and with a quivering voice said,” My Lord Mother, I am but a humble imp and serving you is reward enough.” He looked up for just a moment and made eye contact.
Mother purred a laugh and continued, ”Then it seems settled. Your continued service will be your reward.”
“Wha…what?” the Imp gasped and shockingly asked.
Mother gently placed her hand on his shoulder. She gave a brief squeeze which pierced his flesh with her talons and proclaimed in an ancient tongue, ”Arise my Abyssal Legionnaire.”
Q’are’zl looked around clearly confused. She must be referring to a different demon. Then, just then as he fully digested what was said an ancient and raw elemental power surged through him…
* * * * *
Men and women from all walks of life and parts of the world woke up this morning with no purpose. As they dressed, each inspected the tattoo on their body. It was a supernatural connection, a demon mark called The Bull. The mark was commonly used by Mother’s cult, the Brotherhood. This was a big moment for each of them. Each had worked so hard manipulating events in their corner of Arawyn so that Mother’s ascension would come. An unknown number of their faction had been killed throughout the years all while making progress for the cause, but each loss was a stepping stone to this moment. Every single member believed Mother would reward them for their loyalty and dedication. These key people understood that although they had no specific goal any longer they still had a unique skillset and would be needed to continue making sure the wheels turned.
* * * * *
In a council chamber, miles away from Travance, raised voices could be heard through the large open doors.
Within the chamber, an armored knight spoke,” Lord, you leave us no choice without our men returned I cannot let you leave. I promise your safety on my knightly code and personal honour. You will be kept hostage in our finest accommodations and once our people are returned we can continue negotiations.”
The Quinarian lord looked disappointed and spoke, ”I cannot be taken hostage without my Baron’s permission and I gave you terms for the return of your soldiers. I do believe in your honour Sir Garth but unfortunately I will not be Tamaria’s hostage.” With practiced ease the Lord drew a doorway in the air, triggering his portal.
Guards poured into the chamber, but did not raise their weapons. They waited for the signal from Sir Garth. With a forlorn tone, the knight pleaded, ”You know what this means. What your leaving says.”
“We will discuss terms on neutral territory,” replied the Elf.
He then gathered his cloak around him and stepped through the shining portal. Behind him, on the other side of the portal he heard a female voice say, “Sir Garth I told you they would not see reason. Though valiant, your efforts were wasted.”
