Vashal's Story

They had escaped, for the moment. The short lived battle in the Ruins had ended on a poor note for the two powerful Daemons. Caught unaware, overconfident, they had allowed themselves to be defeated, if only just.

Vashal's leg was mauled. Having been crushed by the boulder, he would be stuck flying for some time, and perching on his good leg. His flaming blade was extinguished, with the hilt hovering in the air next to him. His brutish face was contorted in a grimace as he twists and snaps the broken limb, trying futilely to make it function.

Drumas was better off, but only just recently. The wound to his gut was healed, and the molten stone that had been covering his body was broken away. His solid blade was stuck to his back between his wings.

What both Daemons shared was a rage. They had failed not only to capture the woman, but to kill anything. They had holed themselves up in a structure they had found, by chance, upon a floating island high above the ruins. There were others there, lurking, but the Daemons had not encountered any yet. They were almost of like sorts... almost.

The sounds of footsteps echoed up from a set of stairs that curled downward set in the east wall of where the daemons where hiding. A woman draped in a long red cloak with a hood drawn over her dark-complected face. A shock of silver hair laid straight over her shoulder and fell down like a waterfall against her breast. There was a sound of a chain beating against leather beneath the cloak with every step the woman took.

"It has been quite a long time since we last has visitors from the Down World," her silken voice poured over them. The mysterious woman stopped in the middle of the room and let down her hood. Pale blue eyes stared at them. A smile was spread across her dark face but it never reached her eyes.

"Please, allow us to aid you," she said as she snapped her fingers. Two more figures appeared out of the stairway. They were women too. Their skin was white as snow, their hair black as coal, and their eyes were curiously pink. The pair were dressed in nothing but a few ornate silver pieces of jewelry.

Drumas had turned and drawn his blade at the first sounds of an approach. He was prepared. He did not expect any sort of threat to himself, nor even to Vashal really, but he still wanted blood. A good kill would be most enticing right at that moment.

When the silver haired woman appeared, the Daemon's eyes flared for a moment at a familiar hatred. It was a woman, however, and of different complexion. Entirely different. Still, it could be a good distraction...

Vashal had turned more slowly, and laughs at the offer for aid. "What makes you think we want your help, Mortal?" He snaps his leg around one last time before trying, and failing, to stand on it. It was hard to tell by his gruesome expression if he was experiencing pain, or if that was just normal.

Neither of them seemed to care about the status of the women's clothing. They were interesting creatures, but the Daemons wanted blood, not friends. Not unless they were convinced.

"Mortal?" the red-cloaked woman repeated. Her tone was highly amused. Her laugh was dark and husky, but quiet. It made the two Xhes beside the woman twitch nervously. Their eyes danced around as if something dreadful were about to happen.

"I am far from being mortal. Daemon, I presume? You are nothing but the dirt beneath my feet that I tread on each and every single waking moment of my unending life. You shall bow before me and pledge allegiance before your very existence is erased from time and memory, disgusting fiends," the woman said. The humor in her face was gone. It was replaced by a cold stare of utter hatred.

The Xhes to the woman's right made a very small and faint coo in the back of her throat from fear. Eve's eyes flicked over to the Xhes. The poor one-winged woman's eyes widened in sheer terror. Her body began to shake tremulously. Her hand rose up with the fingers formed like claws. It seemed the Xhes was fighting against in invisible force. The hand, out of her control, eventually grasped the tender cords beneath the skin of her throat.

The Xhes choked for air. The other began to silently weep.

The Xhes nails bite into her skin and blood is drawn.

"You can either become my ally or you can die just like this poor, pitiful, disgusting creature," Eve stated to the daemons. The Xhes uttered a cry before she ripped out her own throat. The creature dropped to her knees as blood sprayed from her neck as her hand still held the precious chords that had been beneath her flesh seconds ago.

Both Daemons watched the show of power with mixed amusement and revulsion. Amusement, because they were both creatures that enjoyed a good death. Repulsed because this woman thought she could do the same to them. Still, it was a good show, and earned her an audience. From Drumas, at least.

Vashal was less convinced. "Try it," he threatens, the ugly expression on his face widening. Spreading his massive wings, he laughs at her. While he was only a Lesser Daemon, compared to Drumas, he was still quite powerful.

The larger Daemon might have admonished the lesser, but he, too, was curious as to whether or not she would actually be able to take control of him. Vashal, he did not know. Drumas was certain she could not control him. Greater Daemons had tried and failed at that. Only one man had ever managed it, and he had released them like a fool.

He fixes a look at her, that spoke of his permission, but a threat; if you slay him, you are next.

Eve only smiled at the two daemons. They were playing a dangerous game. Drumas and Vashal were about to learn that they had lost, too. There were none that could win against Eve, not even that filthy excuse of an elf woman. Even thinking of Maree sent Eve into a furious rage. It was a quiet rage but it shone in her eyes.

A cold wind swept through the room.

Eve's eyes turned onto Vashal. A pressure built around him, squeezing. It would have been a similar sensation to enormous and all powerful hands clamping down around his arms, feet, and head; his entire body. Eve was trying to gain control over the daemon. The shadow behind the woman grew and distorted. It no longer reflected the woman's form but something that was darker than black, and writhed.

If Eve was successful, Drumas was going to come under attack by Vashal with claws and teeth lashing out at the other daemon. But that was the warm up. Even Drumas would begin to feel the same lack of control attempting to seize him, compelling him to remain still and to not move as Vashal tore his body apart.

Vashal, standing triumphant with his wings outstretched, did not realize what was happening at first. He found himself turning away from Eve and towards Drumas, the twisted expression of victory still on his face; even as he propels himself at Drumas with his powerful wings.

He continued to remain slightly unaware of his actions until he took the first swing at his Daemon brother. Claws extended and a snarl choking out of his throat, he had some dark premonition that he was supposed to attack Drumas.

For his part, Drumas was more aware of what was going on. Slowly, he reacts, adopting a fighting stance and preparing himself for Vashal's onslaught. Dangerous though he was, Drumas was more so.

And yet he felt compelled to apathy. He wondered at that, until he saw the dark shade behind Eve. She was nothing, he realized, merely a font for a stronger being. With that awareness, he could focus his will against it, if only for a moment.

Utilizing his longer reach, he snaps his arm out and grabs Vashal by the throat before throwing him into the ground. Placing a powerful hoof on his chest, Drumas turns his head to look at Eve. "Release him," he says slowly, fighting the steadily strengthening influence. "You have made your point."

Eve had not yet made her point. The force that bade Drumas to obey Eve doubled and then tripled its effort. Even would not stop until Drumas was completely under her control. And the force was not exhausting its reserves. It was being held back; trickling through Eve and wrapping against Drumas.

"I said bow before me," Eve said in low voice. It held a threat and a promise to end his life if he did not enter into servitude beneath her.

"Swear a fealty, bind yourself to me and my cause, disgusting daemon, or I will force your own hand against you." Eve took slow steps toward the two daemons. They towered over the smaller elf, but their size did not diminish the sense of dominance that enveloped Eve.

"Swear fealty to Eve Nocturne and the Naari!"

Vashal was already broken. Snarling and trying to fight more against Drumas' pinning leg than the external influence, he twists his neck to gaze upon the woman. "By Shadow, my soul is yours," he cries out, unthinking. He was physically powerful, intimidating, but his willpower was weak; a later generation Daemon.

Drumas would not submit so easily. Even with the powerful presence bearing down upon him, he tries to retain his pride. He had been broken once. He swore it would never happen again. And yet, the power levied upon him was immense. It was no mortal that sought to overthrow him, this time. No... it was something greater. Greater than he, greater than she.

No... it was something that he could actually see himself willingly following. Even happily. He thinks for a moment, he would die for this being, these Naari, for they would be the future of this realm. He had been denied the last, but he would not be denied this one. With powerful allies, he, too, would share in that glory.

It did not occur to him that the thoughts in his mind could have been planted there by the will of Naar. Releasing the no-longer struggling Vashal, he bends to one knee and places a fist on the ground, bowing his head in servitude and wrapping his wings around himself. "By Shadow," he declares, as if he was not under any influence at all, "My soul is yours, Eve Nocturne of the Naari."

As soon as their fealty was swore the power released them. The shadow of Eve dispersed and returned to normal; a very vague outline of her figure in the low light.

"Good boys," Eve said. The woman's hand moved forward and she touched Drumas on his head. She patted him like a pet. The hand that touched him trembled faintly. She took it away from Drumas and it disappeared beneath Eve's cloak.

"I am sending you on a mission of great importance. Naar will be pleased if you are successful. Failure is not an option," Eve said to Drumas and Vashal as she paced the room.

"You will allow the Xhes to mend your wounds and as soon as you are rested you are to go down to the Down World. There are six more feathers to find, and not just any feathers..." the woman said as she pulled out a long, beautiful, almost luminescent feather from inside her cloak.

"Six more of these. They are feathers of a god and I want all of them. If you find any other looking for them that are not Naari, you are to kill them in gruesome and torturous deaths, do you understand or shall I make it more simple for your idiotic minds?" Eve turned to stare at both of them in turn.

With Drumas off of his chest and the power gone from him, Vashal rights himself and growls. He did not like being influenced. He would not allow it to happen again, he decided. But he would follow Drumas, who seemed to have accepted this new rule. He remains silent as his betters speak.

"You need not insult our intellect," Drumas rumbles at the woman, though he remains bowed. "You will find us to be your most capable, worthy servants. Of that I assure you." He looks up only to look upon the object that they would need to seek out.

"Any who stand in your way will be erased, by death and destruction. Direct our will, and we shall see it done." He bows his head again, and growls a demonic phrase to Vashal, causing him to finally match the Greater Daemon's stance.

"We shall see about that," Eve cooed. She ran her fingers through her silver hair and considered for a long moment. What to do with the two brutes recently enthralled? Where to send them?

Eve nodded as if her silent questions had been answered.

"Make your way to Southton," Eve commanded. "I have a good feeling about sending you there. Do not return to me unless you have a feather. You do not want to see me disappointed." Eve ran her fingers along Vashal and then Drumas. They really were nothing but lumbering pets in Eve's eyes; expendable pets.

Her gaze flicked over to the cowering Xhes in the corner. Eve turned on her heel. "Clean up this mess before I have the daemons eat you," she told the Xhes. The shocked one-winged creature looked at Vashal and Drumas in sheer horror as Eve left.