Session 6: Creatlach Report

General Summary

The beautiful crystal glass shattered against the marble pillar of the throne room. The servant who had handed the glass to the enraged general backed up quickly, making sure to keep his head down. The last thing he wanted was to catch a glimpse of the mighty demon standing in front of Zolo Vim’s throne. The red giant with bat-like wings that could kill him with a whisper, and that was now the target of the general’s anger.
“Akek! They went to Akek! Of all the places we did not want them to go…”   Amamastor struggled to keep his own rage in check. He was not accustomed to being addressed this way, but he had no choice. This human had him bound and as such the demon could take no action against him. His rage would be impotent, and he would not give his captor the satisfaction of seeing him strain against his bonds in futility.
“My lord, not all is lost. Zelia confirmed they are still seeking the Eyes.”   Vim’s eyes grew wide in surprise and fury at the demon’s response.
“Yes, how could I forget. They agreed to gather the Eyes of Azavox, for that bitch of an empress. This is the exact opposite of what we wanted, or did I not make myself clear. They were to work for me!”   “It will take them a while to gather all the Eyes. If they succeed at all. I am certain they can still be turned to our cause. Perhaps you can allow me to send one of my lieutenants to bring them here? Unlike that slaver I can guarantee success.”   The general scoffed as he waived away Amamastor’s argument.
“I have seen the success you guarantee, and I find it unsatisfactory. You said your mark would bring them to Amon, either to parley, or in search of its removal. Instead, they seem to simply ignore it. Even if they fear its consequences, they aren’t acting on it immediately and I can no longer wait.”   “What will you have me do, my lord?”   “We cannot allow them to gather these artifacts for Akek. The empress cannot have access to the weapon. Kill them. Send out your assassins and end their miserable little lives. Once they are dead, bring their souls before me so I can show my displeasure.”   The demon’s voice lowered to a growl.
“My lord, you promised me their souls would be mine.”   “And they shall be yours, once I have had my fun.”   “What about Zelia’s prophecy? Without this group, how will we secure the weapon for ourselves?”   “We won’t! I don’t need it, the empress does. As long as we can prevent our enemies from obtaining it, we will win any and every war we will fight. No-one can stand against the fiendish hordes of Amon indefinitely.”   “And Torbin?”   The general lowered himself back onto his throne. His anger was subsiding.
“Who?”   “The half-blood that seeks the Eyes as well. His group meets the criteria of Zelia’s prophecy as well.”   “You said they cannot be persuaded. That is still true?”   “Yes. Torbin already serves a dark master.”   “Then they must die as well.”   “Yes, my lord.”   Before the great demon rose to leave the chamber, Zolo Vim looked him in the eyes, something not many mortals did and lived to tell the tale.
“And Amamastor, don’t come back here with any other news than that your demons have succeeded. Fail me in this and the punishment will be unlike anything you have experienced, even in the Abyss.”   As Amamastor exited the great throne room he grabbed the same servant that had delivered the glass of whine to the general. The young man had been on his way back to the kitchen. He stared in the boy’s eyes as he snapped his neck and drank in his soul as it left his dying body. Throwing down the useless corpse against the wall he continued to the demon pits below the palace. He would send out his assassins and they would kill these inconsequential mortals. One day, soon he thought, he would break free from Vim’s bindings, and he would drag him down to the Abyss. That day he would remind the great general who was really in charge of the fiendish hordes of Amon.