Session 3: decisions Report
General Summary
Zelia watched as the ragtag group sat by the large bonfire at Safa Car. Some had joined the Daggerfang tribe in celebration of their new chieftain while others were merely observing. She noted the absence of one of those marked by Amamastor. She had observed his inclination to separate from the group before.
Zelia had been surprised by the Marked Ones’ actions. As she had hoped they had discovered the Vault of Sun Doon and had thwarted Torbin’s little scheme to finally get his hand on one of the Eyes of Azavox. However, their meddling with the locals had gone much further than anticipated. She had expected them to simply flee with their treasure.
She had overheard their plans for the next day. The trade post they were traveling to belonged to Torbin, so they might be heading into danger. Still, Torbin was not expecting them, and they might just continue to mess with his plans.
An undeniable and painful tug on her soul caused her to sink to her knees on the muddy jungle floor. Grimacing, she pushed back the pain and rose once more. Her immaculate white dress remained unstained. Her master was calling her. Current and temporary master, she reminded herself.
Zelia closed her eyes and willed herself back to Amon. When she opened her eyes a few seconds later she was sitting in the same comfortable chair in her chambers she had left half an hour before. The only difference in the room was the open door and the large red-skinned, winged demon sitting on the large sofa across from her.
Amamastor’s voice sounded like a deep grating of stone against stone.
“How is our little project going?” Although she had been in Amon for decades now, she still found her stomach turned every time she was forced to interact with the demons that lived here.
“As expected, I guess. They are stumbling their way on to the quest for the Eyes of Azavox. Hopefully they will continue to pursue the artifacts.” The demon nodded his head ever so slightly at the good news.
“They better. The moment they stop, they are no longer of use to me, or Zolo Vim.” The mention of the demonbinder that held both of their leashes surprised Zelia. Normally, Amamastor ignored Vim as best he could.
“And how is our master? Still convinced your soulmark will bring them into the fold? Time is running out. His plans for them will soon expire.” “As long as they are looking for the Eyes he can be placated.” Zelia grinned at the recollection of some of the Marked Ones’ conversations.
“The thought of eternal suffering at your hands does not seem as intimidating as expected. The mark seems inconsequential to at least one of them.” “Mortals are fools. They do not realize what true suffering is, nor the length of eternity. They think the interactions they have with us in this city are comparable to what the Abyss is like. Should these slaves turn from the path we have set out, I will correct these assumptions.” With that remark the large demon rose from the soft cushions and started heading towards the still open door. Bedore leaving Zelia’s room he turned back to address the pale woman once more.
“The same goes for you. Zim may hold your leash, but should you ever betray me, I will make sure your torment will be unique and unending.”
“How is our little project going?” Although she had been in Amon for decades now, she still found her stomach turned every time she was forced to interact with the demons that lived here.
“As expected, I guess. They are stumbling their way on to the quest for the Eyes of Azavox. Hopefully they will continue to pursue the artifacts.” The demon nodded his head ever so slightly at the good news.
“They better. The moment they stop, they are no longer of use to me, or Zolo Vim.” The mention of the demonbinder that held both of their leashes surprised Zelia. Normally, Amamastor ignored Vim as best he could.
“And how is our master? Still convinced your soulmark will bring them into the fold? Time is running out. His plans for them will soon expire.” “As long as they are looking for the Eyes he can be placated.” Zelia grinned at the recollection of some of the Marked Ones’ conversations.
“The thought of eternal suffering at your hands does not seem as intimidating as expected. The mark seems inconsequential to at least one of them.” “Mortals are fools. They do not realize what true suffering is, nor the length of eternity. They think the interactions they have with us in this city are comparable to what the Abyss is like. Should these slaves turn from the path we have set out, I will correct these assumptions.” With that remark the large demon rose from the soft cushions and started heading towards the still open door. Bedore leaving Zelia’s room he turned back to address the pale woman once more.
“The same goes for you. Zim may hold your leash, but should you ever betray me, I will make sure your torment will be unique and unending.”
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