Session 7: the Lair of Shattenzahn. Report

General Summary

The quasits scattered across the room as soon as Amamastor’s right arm surged forward. Making pleading sounds, they sought shelter from their master’s rage behind the lavish furniture spread throughout the richly decorated chamber. The babau demon’s reaction time was slower, which cost it its freedom.   As a balor, one of the most powerful kinds of demons of the abyss, Amamastor’s strength was far too great for the abyssal assassin to resist. He grabbed hold of the smaller demon’s head, ignoring the sharp-edged ridges that cut into his fiendish flesh, and lifted him off the ground. The babau shrieked in fear and rage. It began thrashing about, frantically trying to escape the balor’s grasp. Its attempts were futile. Amamastor raised the demon over 10 feet into the air, bringing its eyes level to his own.
“I do not care about whatever excuses you have prepared. You are an assassin demon. If you cannot even kill a group of lowly, inexperienced mortals, then what good are you to me?”   The babau stopped its resistance and stared back into the two pits of darkness that were the balor’s eyes. It knew its life was forfeit. All it could do was hope that its master would simply kill it so it could rise again soon in the Abyss. The alternative …
“The targets weren’t the problem master. There was another. A witch with two elementals. They interfered. Also, these mortals are not as inexperienced as you said. They teleported away. They have access to strong magic. I did not know.”   As soon as it had spoken, the babau knew it had made a mistake. Amamastor’s eyes narrowed and the malice flowing from those pools of darkness increased dramatically.
“So, you are saying I am to blame? It is my fault that you failed?”   As he spoke, the balor increased the pressure on the babau’s skull. A sharp pain began to spread through the demon’s body and the pounding of its dark heart became a painful throbbing in its ears. In a high shrill voice, the assassin began to plead for its life. Even though it knew its time was up, its fear of oblivion forced it to speak.
“No, my lord. Of course not. It was my failure. Please! I will do better next time. Send me back out. I will find them and bring you their broken bodies.”   Amamastor didn’t hear his servant’s pitiful pleas. Savoring the pain he was inflicting, he slowly closed his fist, crushing the lesser demon’s skull within. As the babau died, Amamastor could see its essence slip from its broken body, beginning its journey back to the abyss. Angry and annoyed, the balor focused on the escaping life-force and breathed in. The energy pulled away, attempting to escape him, but failed. Slowly it flowed into the balor’s mouth, where it dissipated to strengthen the demon’s own lifeforce.   Amamastor threw the dead babau’s body to the ground where it disintegrated into countless motes of fiendish ectoplasm. A few minutes later even those would be completely evaporated. He ignored the scared squalls of the quasits and moved to sit back down on his throne, a massive wooden chair carved from the stump of a twisted and mutated tree. Images of dozens of screaming faces decorated the back of the throne, and its armrests ended in two golden skulls.   As soon as he had sat down, another voice echoed through the chamber.
“I predicted the babau would fail.”   The balor rolled his eyes in annoyance and sighed.
“Do you think it is wise for you to point out you were right, and I was wrong? Did you not see what just happened?”   At the other end of the room, near the large double door, the deep shadows began to shift.
“I have no doubt you could kill me, o mighty lord of fire and darkness. But you are too intelligent to do so. You need me.”   The large demon shifted uncomfortably on his throne.
“Do I? I have many other underlings I could send out to deal with these mortals.”   The shadows near the door finally settled and solidified into a humanoid shape, roughly the same size as a tall human. Its body was muscular and hairless. Its dark blue, almost black skin a stark contrast to the two orbs of pale white light that made up its eyes. Its ears were long and pointed, similarly to the elves of the northern lands and two small horns emerged from its forehead to curl upward. It appeared into the room naked, but as it approached the throne the shadows in the room flowed onto its body to form a fine courtier’s outfit.
“None are as practiced at the hunt as I am. Let me hunt this prey for you, my lord.”   Amamastor leaned back in his chair and stared at the demon, his hatred and suspicion unmasked.
“No, your service comes at too high a price. I don’t need your kind. Yet.”   A sly grin appeared on the newcomer’s face.
“Then what will you tell Vim, when he asks about your progress? I am sure he will catch wind of the babau’s failure soon.”   The balor scoffed.
“A whisper from some unknown shadow, no doubt. Your ambition is known to me, Hakato. You are far from powerful enough to remove me from my throne.”   The grin widened, opening the dark demon’s face unnaturally far.
“For now, my lord, for now.”   In a sudden flash of movement Amamastor burst from his throne. His wings pulled tight against his back, the balor sprinted forward, both claws extended. The demon addressed as Hakato tried to jump back into the safety of the shadows but was too slow. As he had mere minutes earlier, Amamastor grabbed the smaller demon’s head with his right hand. This time, however, he closed his left around its throat as well.
“I could end your treacherous little life right here and now, but I won’t. I will let you hunt these mortals. Complete this task and I will let you live. Appear before me again while they live, and I will devour your essence as easily as that of the babau.”   Hakato was thrown to the floor a moment later. He wanted to retort, to have the last word, but thought better of it. Even though he had gotten his way, he may have pushed his master a little too far. As he stepped into the shadows from which he had emerged, he was already imagining the hunt ahead.