*The set up: Vendrevin, High Templar of Yetra, is faced with news of demons entering Trugan (the mortal world) and causing mayhem.  To investigate the how and why the young Templar visits the court of the haughty gorgon King Nehra Shrivastava.* 

Vendrevin gazed skyward, his eyes following the bizarre contours of the grand threshold before him.  His lips parted in the wake of a silent gasp. Wow, he thought. Ha-Ha sat on the Elundri’s shoulder pressed close to his pale cheek for comfort. The fairy shuddered, regarding the grim surroundings.   The incessant mists of Shaadiv licked at the Elundri’s ankles thickly. Ha-Ha glanced behind them noticing the growing number of glowing eyes peering that them from the dark forest rim.  Ha-Ha felt her confidence waiver.    

“Are you sure about this, Vendrevin?"

He nodded silently, reluctantly. "Have you ever seen this gorgon king?" he asked.

She shook her head. “No, but I hear he's a real sex fiend."  This information didn't make the Templar feel any better about the situation. He reached forth, apprehension causing his pale skin crawl, and rapped on the massive entrance. His seemingly light tap echoed in some ghastly expanse beyond the great door. Vendrevin stood in the eerie silence staring still at the bizarre gargoyles embossed in to the ancient wooden frame.

Ha-Ha's tiny expression was doubtful.  “You knocked?" She asked.

Vendrevin huffed nervously. “Would you rather me call out...’Hello, scary demon king," he chided. "Please answer the door!"

Ha-Ha relented, flicking her wings in exasperation. “No, not really."  

Some hellish beast wailed far in the distance.

"Eeee!" She clutched a lock of Vendrevin's snow white hair in her arms. Her tiny muffled voice was at a whisper. “No one’s home....let’s go."

"No, Ha-Ha" He scolded her quietly finding the bravery of his own words frightening.

“As I recall this was your idea. Lord Shrivastava must have some idea what is happening. It can’t be coincidence that demons are breaking in to Trugan. I must see him.  I have to be sure." They both fell silent. Of a sudden the great entrance before them creaked sharply. Ha-Ha squeaked with alarm and submerged herself in the Templar’s hair. Vendrevin grimaced, a subtle expression on his otherwise pristine features, his right ear ringing from her shrill chirp. He pulled the tangled fairy out of his hair by the waist.

“Ha-Ha!" he hissed. His attentions quickly turned to the widening aperture before him.

A gentle light sliced through the dimness as the huge ornate door crept open. Vendrevin peered with in, seeing nothing but a measureless passageway shrouded densely by a peculiar gray mist.  The corridors vaulted ceiling was swathed in darkness and seemed to hide yet more shapeless forms and glowing eyes.  Ha-Ha gasped still with in the Elundri's gentle grasp.  He looked on noting her fright and watched as a tall lithe figure began to materialize with in the churning mist. Vendrevin stepped back fearfully as the figure drew closer. The great doors swung wide then stopped with a resounding bang. The shadowy figure hesitated as if to regard him from a distance. The Templar took a deep breath and then spoke.

“I am Vendrevin Khalish. There is a matter of great importance that I would discuss with Lord Shrivastava."

  There was a thoughtful pause, and then the figure gracefully stepped forth in to the scarce illumination of the broad portal opening.  A striking masculine visage gazed down upon the Elundri with tilted crimson eyes. The Templar's own bright eyes blinked in awe as he took a cautious step backwards.  

The stranger’s smooth skin was a pale powder gray like the color of spring thunderclouds.  His lithe physique was clothed sparingly by a bejeweled mantle of soft diaphanous lavender silk that rested delicately upon broad ashen shoulders together with a complementary snug loincloth that clung low to his hips suggestively.  Elegant tapering ears peeked whimsically from a crown of wavy shoulder length lavender hair, the same hue of his livery, framing his soft features.   Vendrevin's eyes descended noting, among other things, each of the gorgons slender fingers were adorned with sliver bands, as were his bare feet in which each toe was embellished by thin silver bands.    Vendrevin looked up catching sight of the gentle expressive smile upon his strikingly charming face.  

His face blushed hotly, snowy white cheeks reddening.  I'm staring, how rude.  The Templar opened his mouth, poised to utter an apology but the glimmer of hammered silver caught Vendrevin’s attention as the strangers delicate earrings trembled.

The stranger nodded in welcoming then spoke. "I am Dremma, Lord Shrivastava’s advisor.” His voice was a pleasant melodious one. “His majesty will see you."

Vendrevin’s eyes widened at bit, trepidation now weighing heavily upon him. He would be entering the lair of a powerful demon.  The young Elundri prayed that the gorgon king would be understanding of his unexpected visit. Dremma pivoted majestically, silken mantle fluttering, and sauntered back through the churning mists of the corridor beyond. Vendrevin glanced at Ha-Ha still grasped gently in his hands. She too had been silently regarding Dremma.

“Pretty.” She commented quietly.  The sprite met Vendrevin's gaze and interpreted the silent urgent question discernible by the Elundri's worried expression and nodded on encouragingly.

“Go on.” She motioned.

Dremma's quiet voice beckoned.  "If you would accompany me, Master Khalish."

     Vendrevin watched as Dremma was swallowed by the odd mists that permeated the corridor beyond the great door. He quickly stepped over the threshold and disappeared in to mist laden interior of the illustrious Palace Vahin.  

    The Templar soon caught site of his guide among the dimness and took care to stay close.  A pleasant floral tang clung to the cool air in Dremma's wake which filled the Elundri's mind with thoughts of summer flowers.  There was something about his guide that was strangely...familiar to him.  Vendrevin wasn't sure what to make of the impression, but it distracted him from the shadowy setting; the seemingly endless corridor, with its fluted alabaster pillars and shining walls of polished ebon granite.   

Vendrevin felt Ha-Ha shift with in his grasp.

"Stay sharp, Vendrevin. Remember where you are!" she scolded, her jewel like eyes looked up in to his face, knowing full well the presence of a gorgon near one such as the naive young Templar could indeed be very perilous. She began to question her sanity for suggesting coming to this forsaken realm.  

The mists that had plagued the entrance to the palace were now thinning and the opulent decor of the palace began to emerge. Vendrevin took in the great expanse of the gorgon palace, the ornate facades depicting gorgon rulers of long past. Tapestries clothed the high walls in great broad swathes of deep crimson with accents of deepest indigo and gold threads.  He took a deep breath, realizing he had fallen behind and quickened his pace. The Elundri recalled a lecture on gorgon lore; the power of illusion and seduction by gorgon kind is second nature. Surely facing their king, he would have to experience a very powerful master of illusion and seduction. One should beware temptation in the midst of such a creature.   

Dremma turned to Vendrevin, his deep crimson eyes blinked and another handsome smile curled the corners of his supple lips. "Please wait here," Dremma informed. “I will announce your arrival to his majesty." 

    Ha-Ha watched him depart, intrigued by the suggestive sway of Dremma’s hips which moved in concert with his casual gait. Dremma seemed to float down the adjoining corridor where he then slipped in to shadow. Vendrevin let loose a great sigh.  Ha-Ha slipped from his grasp, taking to the air with a flutter of her incandescent wings. 

"Now what?" she crossed her tiny arms.

"We wait." he replied, with a nervous grin.  The wait was short lived.  There was little warning as the great door before sprite and Elundri swept open.  Ha-Ha darted for Vendrevin's shoulder where she cowered in his silvery white hair.  Vendrevin watched, his heart thumping fearfully in his chest, as the great door parted down its center and swung wide.  An immense audience chamber presented itself.  He leaned forward a bit to peer with in just as soft familiar voice called to him from the shadows.

" His royal majesty, Lord Nehra Shrivastava awaits you with in."

Vendrevin's shot a glance in the direction of the voice and saw Dremma standing on the edge of shadow gesturing gracefully for him to enter. Summoning his courage, the young Templar stepped forth.

    As he approached the farthest end of the long rectangular audience hall a great raised dais came in to view by the light of flickering flames from great circular hearths recessed in the floor and screened to direct the light upward.

Ha-Ha whispered to the Templar, fright causing her diminutive voice waiver.

“Don’t let him distract you." she warned.

Vendrevin nodded silently.

“A greater pleasure gorgon like this one can make it feel so good...your very heart will forget to beat!" Vendrevin swallowed his throat suddenly dry. He recalled the powerful gorgon touch - one of the infamous abilities of this demon race.  Similar to their lesser havoc demon cousins, terror gorgons, pleasure gorgons had the ability to administer surges of unbearable mind numbing ecstasy upon physical contact with any creature. Debilitating, to say the least, is this remarkable talent. It was well known that gorgon kind were terrible adversaries during the great wars of old.  As he drew near Vendrevin’s eyes widened at the sight of a mass of bodies surrounding a wide raised dais; the dark silhouette of a great throne at the top. They were entangled over and under one another poised in various acts of lust, their firm bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat.  Ha-Ha pointed, mouth agape, too bewildered to say anything.  Vendrevin averted his gaze awkwardly, unsure if he was shocked or intrigued. 

The shrouded gorgon atop the throne lifted his horned head upon viewing the Elundri. Clear green eyes, the color of fine emeralds, flickered excitedly illuminating the darkness for a mere moment. A pleased smile creased full dark lips revealing smooth white fangs. Vendrevin heard what he thought to be a deep masculine sigh, he looked over his shoulder then back to the huge dais as gentle breeze caressed his slender neck and right ear, carrying with it an enthralling scent of musk and spice. The fragrant draft then shifted the Elundri's long snow white tresses and dissipated. Vendrevin eyes darted about fearfully, then he suddenly had the sense he was being watched intently.  Dremma glided in behind the trembling Elundri casually taking his place at the base of the shrouded dais. Vendrevin noted someone shifting among in the clinging shadows atop the dais, and Vendrevin squinted attempting to discern what moved therein.  A deep sensuous voice called out ever so slowly. “E....lun....dri."  

Four great hearths skirted the dais in a semicircle formation, which had previously sat cold and unlit, burst hotly to life, their golden glow devouring the darkness that had been concealing the throne to reveal the seated form of a powerfully built pleasure gorgon, draped in a silken mantle of deep azure. His skin was an earthy bronze, smooth and taut over his well muscled physique.  His regal head was crowned by elegant curved horns, their color the same that of his tawny skin surrounded, too, by his shimmering mane of crimson hair that gathered wildly around his broad shoulders.  Adornments of gold accented his striking physique. Vendrevin's brow knit nervously when his startled gaze fell across magnificent countenance of the Lord of Sebalia, King of the gorgon tribes, Lord Nehra Shrivastava.  The gorgon king rose up, standing his full seven feet and began to descend the steps before his throne. The templar was too transfixed to hear Ha-Ha murmur. “Oh, my gods.” 

Vendrevin watched speechlessly as the gorgon king glided from his shrouded throne in to the golden light. The towering dark skinned demon was scarcely clothed by the simple blue mantle which hung loosely over his sinewy shoulders and clung loosely around his hips. His cunning, feline like eyes seemed to bore right through him.  Lord Shrivastava stood silently before Vendrevin a smug grin upon his countenance. The young Templar had to crane his neck to meet the towering gorgon’s stare. The gorgon king tilted his head to the side whimsically regarding Vendrevin as if he were a fine painting.

“So what did you think?"

Vendrevin was flabbergasted, lost in the lure of those green eyes.

“Well, go on," the gorgon smiled broadly flashing the delicate fangs in his mouth. “Was it compelling? Did it give you chills?"

Vendrevin found his voice. “What?" he said.

Nehra blinked his bright eyes, and then pursed his lips, a sincere expression of distress rippled across the gorgon king’s handsome face. He groaned in defeat and whirled about.

“All right, people...I don’t think we accomplished our goal today!" The tall pleasure gorgon straitened his imposing seven foot frame then clapped his broad hands sharply.

Dremma sighed regretfully then called out. “You heard him!" 

There was a sudden din of voices as servants and attendants ran about the great hall. Various lights and sconces were lit, further illuminating the chamber. The odd mist that clung to the floor suddenly dissipated. The writhing orgy that had moments before looked so convincing suddenly picked themselves up and departed. Vendrevin was wholly mystified.

Ha-Ha looked about in dismay. “What’s the…?"

Dremma strolled over with a stack of parchment, a quill pen in hand, scribbling studiously.          “Everything was well executed, my lord." 

Nehra turned, chin in hand, his tapered brow drew together as if contemplating some elaborate query. He turned once again, his shimmering crimson locks swaying across his broad back as he waved his hands in the air for emphasis. “I thought that the mist thing would work. Did he even see the orgy? What happened... was something missing?  Where are my robes?!" 

“Robes!" Nehra bellowed. Vendrevin jumped as the gorgon’s deep voice echoed off the high walls. A female gorgon scurried forth, quickly bowed and presented Nehra with a lavish embroidered silk robe, which was a deep azure. He gratefully slipped it on over the scant mantle. Another attendant swiftly brought forth a goblet of red wine. Nehra took the parchment from Dremma, sipped his wine and walked back towards his throne reading over the list.

“Eh," Vendrevin muttered. “Um....excuse me, your majesty?"

“Hmmm," Nehra pondered over the parchment in his hands. “I know! We took removed the gargoyles this time!"

Dremma raised a finger. “Ah, yet...my lord remembers what happened last time?"

Lord Nehra’s bright eyes lit up, he extended his goblet in recognition. “Oh! Yes, that was very unfortunate." His brow creased in contemplation. “Have you sent the apologies yet?

Dremma bowed slightly. “Done, sire."

Nehra nodded. “Good, good." The gorgon plopped down upon his ornate throne. He sipped the remainder of his beverage.  A servant scampered forward to take the empty goblet as soon as the gorgon king set it aside.

"Excuse me." Vendrevin repeated.

Dremma smiled enthusiastically. “However, I think your entrance was well executed.”

Lord Nehra nodded, thoughtfully.  “It wasn’t too much?”

Dremma shook his head. “Not at all.”

Vendrevin raised his hand waving timidly. “Hello?”

Lord Nehra’s brow arched. “We haven’t forgotten you, snowflake! Welcome!”

The Templar grimaced. “Snowflake?"

Ha-Ha shook her little head. " Eh, what’s with this guy? Is he for real?"

Dremma interjected. “He is the Lord of this realm." Nehra stood and pointed a manicured finger at the Elundri, winking. “Don’t you forget it, snowflake!"  The tall demon gathered his diaphanous robes and descended the dais.  He paused making an approving grunt as he circled Vendrevin like a vulture circles carrion. Vendrevin dared not to breathe.  Ha-Ha glared at the gorgon challengingly from her perch. The capricious demon pursed his lips, taking another moment to regard his guest.

"Dremma." Nehra glanced over his shoulder.

“Sire...,” Dremma began, bowing respectfully.

“I’d like to be alone with our guest.” Nehra stated. Dremma raised his head slowly his crimson eyes questioning the gorgon’s intentions. 

Nehra glanced at Dremma.  “Well?!” Lord Shrivastava grumbled authoritatively. 

Dremma scowled crossly, bowed stepping back in to the far shadows of the chamber then vanished from sight.  There was a brief pause and soon Vendrevin became painfully aware of the complete silence in the great hall. The dancing flame of the numerous hearths made the remaining shadows move eerily. Ha-Ha looked about with alarm, clutching tighter to the Elundri’s neck. Nehra smiled pleasantly, flashing delicate fangs. Vendrevin frowned, stepping back just a bit, attempting to quell the fear stewing in his gut.

The demon’s sultry voice broke the silence. “I have never seen an Elundri before." He said.

“Is that so?” Vendrevin grinned nervously. The gorgon fondled a golden bracelet upon his wrist, twisting it around idly.

“I have been told they are very striking creatures.” Nehra informed.

Vendrevin just nodded quietly.

“I would have to say the gossip is true.”

“I…well.” Vendrevin began, glancing at his feet.

“Don’t you think so?” 

Nehra’s broad hand gently lifted the Elundri’s chin. Vendrevin flinched with alarm attempting to step away from the gorgon’s touch.  Ha-Ha squeaked frightfully similarly surprised by the sudden proximity of the lusty gorgon. Yet, before the Elundri could step away Nehra swept a powerful arm around the diminutive Templar and pulled him in close. Ha-Ha took to the air.

“Let him go!” She exclaimed.  Vendrevin began to squirm.

“No, no, no” Lord Nehra chuckled playfully, keeping a firm grip on his prize. The pleasure gorgon gazed in to Vendrevin’s terrified vermilion eyes, leaning in closer.

“Stop!” Vendrevin cried, continuing to resist.  Lord Nehra smirked wantonly.

“Relax.” He instructed in a breathy voice.  The young Templar suddenly felt his muscles slack and a warm sensation crept up his spine causing his skin to prickle. The gorgon chuckled again delighting in the sight of the Elundri submit to his intoxicating touch.  Ha-Ha watched with horror as a faint crimson aura enveloped Vendrevin’s body. This aura, normally invisible to the untrained eye was emanating from the gorgon King and swiftly incapacitating the Templar.

“Vendrevin, no!" Ha-Ha cried.  She fanatically grabbed a lock of his pale hair and pulled with all her might.

“I am...am...," Vendrevin stammered. The Elundri felt an electric rush of heat envelope him. His skin began to tingle hotly. His vision swirled as a glorious sensation established in his loins. Ha- Ha screamed, yanking on the Templar’s hair with all her might. The delicate follicles gave way and she tumbled backwards mid-air with a few silvery strands with in her grasp. 

Vendrevin quivered, the sting of his hair being pulled out only slightly disrupted his revere. 

Lord Nehra bent his large frame so that his lips brushed against the Templar’s. The gorgon took a slow even breath, immersing himself in the young Elundri’s scent.  A virgin?

"Perfect." Nehra gently caressed the Elundri’s pale cheek.  

Vendrevin closed his eyes in defeat just as a distant voice at the back of his mind shouted in defiance. He opened his eyes and grimaced uncomfortably, attempting to push the gorgon away again, but Nehra persisted tightening his grip. A surge of crackling energy bubbled forth from some deep recess of Vendrevin’s soul. “No.” Vendrevin’s voice was resolute.  A brilliant flash of ivory colored light illuminated the great hall.  Nehra winced crying out with pain as his grasping hands were seared hotly by the bright glow now enveloping the Elundri’s body.  The gorgon cursed, staggering away from the young Templar. “How did you did that?!”

Vendrevin wobbled then fell to his knees.

Ha-Ha fluttered over to the young Elundri. “Vendrevin?” she said worriedly.

“What happened?” Vendrevin muttered.

Ha-Ha sneered in the direction of the gorgon King who was rubbing his throbbing hands.

“That happened,” she pointed.  “Let’s get out of here. He can’t help us!”

Vendrevin stood rubbing his temples to sooth the ache in his head. He waved off the fairy.

“No, “He said. “We can’t leave yet. He may know something about breach between the worlds.” 

Nehra stood at the foot of his throne; ego and hands bruised, pondering how the relatively inexperienced Elundri had defied his advances. Vendrevin regained most of his composure.  

“If you are quite done,” he said bravely. “I have a question to ask...er…your majesty.” 

Nehra was still pouting. “You’re no fun.” He chided.

Vendrevin sighed. “Please, Lord Shrivastava. I came here to get help.”

Nehra’s brow cocked curiously. “From me?”  The gorgon climbed the dais to his throne and sat. Nehra mulled over the situation quietly. There was a long pause between them.  Vendrevin was exasperated.  Ha-Ha tugged at the Templar’s tunic.

“We should just go.” She whispered.

“You must stay.” Decreed the gorgon king.

“Stay?” Vendrevin asked, puzzled.

“The day has ended,” Lord Nehra pointed out. “Travel with in Sebalia is no easy task as I’m sure you know having managed to get her unscathed.”

Vendrevin sulked. “This is true.”

Ha-Ha’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.  The guy just tried to molest you.”

Vendrevin grimaced, forcing a nervous grin. “I’m sure…eh…his majesty was merely trying to be friendly.”

“You have no idea.” Nehra muttered, knowingly.

“What?” Vendrevin said.

“Please,” Nehra’s face brightened as he stood up from his throne and opened his arms. “Stay, rest…it’s the least I could do...after, well…” he paused regarding the Templar.  Vendrevin frowned.  “We will discuss your business in the morning. The hour is late and the beasts of the wood will be upon the roads.” Nehra continued. “We have too few visitors in Sebalia. Please, stay.” 

As if by some silent cue the court attendants reappeared in the great hall lining up along the carpeted nave. The lavender haired Dremma appeared again, hands resting on his hips, a cross look on his face.

“Your, majesty.” Dremma sneered.

Nehra did a double take, noting the insolent tone and an irritated look on Dremma’s face.

“D-Dremma...please have a room prepared for our honored guest.”

There was an uncomfortable pause as Dremma glared boldly. Lord Shrivastava pouted, then dismissed his advisor with a wave of his hand. Dremma bowed and retreated. “This way,” Dremma requested. “Please.” 

Vendrevin was lead out of the audience chamber down a long corridor. After too many turns the Templar could count Dremma paused before the entrance to an extravagant room.

“Would you care for refreshments?”

“Water,” Vendrevin replied hesitantly. “If that’s all right…”

“Not at all.” Dremma’s previous calm demeanor seemed to be troubled. “I will have the attendant bring refreshments.”  The Templar stepped in to the chamber and glanced about briefly.  Ha-Ha flew in behind him regarding the lavish setting. “Not bad.” She complimented.  Vendrevin was grateful for a chance to rest, yet pondered when he would speak with the gorgon king again.

“I wondered if…,” Vendrevin began, turning around.  The chamber door shut swiftly before him with a solid bang which was followed by an audible click-clack.

“Did he just lock us in?”

Ha-Ha nodded in dismay. 

Dremma broke in to a run down the carpeted corridor, cursing harshly.  He ducked in to the service tunnels passing bewildered attendants as he made his way across the extensive palace grounds to the royal quarters.  He caught his breath briefly and pushed open the gilded double doors leading in to Nehra’s private chambers before the two startled attendants could open it for him.  Dremma spied Nehra standing across the room before a grand mirror surrounded by his female attendants who were fussing over his fine livery.

Dremma huffed loudly and stormed towards the gorgon King. “What in hell’s labyrinth are you thinking?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nehra shooed away the doting attendants and glanced at Dremma’s reflection.

“What was with that stunt you pulled in the…”

“Oh, you saw that?” Nehra stepped away from the mirror and crossed the polished floor and slipped in to a small room where the walls were lined with numerous cabinets and flamboyantly carved drawers.  An attendant popped up to open the drawer Nehra pointed to.  The attendant pulled the drawer forth to display an assortment of delicate jewelry; sparkling jewels drops of dark topaz, golden ring bands set with rubies, sapphires and polished obsidian set in to the finest gold.  Nehra regarded the selection and shook his head disapprovingly.  The attendant quickly put the drawer back and pulled out another.

“You know damn well I was watching that!” Dremma scolded. “ He’s a Templar, Nehra!”

“So.” Nehra replied smugly.

“You’re going to create an…,” Dremma’s voice wavered furiously. “An interdemensional incident over this boy if you keep this up!”

“I can handle it.” Nehra slipped an intricately carved ring of obsidian and gold on his right hand admiring the look of the metal against his dark skin.  When Nehra looked up Dremma was pacing nervously. He smiled privately taking a moment to watch him fret.

“You’re jealous.” Nehra chuckled.

Dremma stopped pacing and stood staring at Nehra for a moment. “No, I am not.” He crossed his arms as a thoroughly convincing pout formed on his face.

Nehra’s smile broadened.  He pointed at Dremma letting loose a playful laugh.

“You are jealous!”

“I’m being serious.” Dremma replied stubbornly.  Nehra approached Dremma gathering him up in his arms. “Stop…,” Dremma leaned away ducking away from Nehra's embrace. “I’m not in the mood to play around.”

Nehra persisted and held Dremma in loose embrace. Nehra spoke softly. “You’re so sexy when you’re jealous.”

Dremma didn’t say anything for a moment. He sighed in resignation wrapping his arms warmly about Nehra’s waist with quiet yearning.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head.” Nehra planted a light kiss on Dremma’s forehead. “It’s just a phase I’m going through.”

Dremma wasn't convinced. “What happened in the hall was no trick.  He looks young, but he’s a Templar no doubt. There’s something about him I can’t put my finger on…”

“…In.” Nehra interjected childishly with a grin.  Dremma pinched Nehra’s arm.  Nehra winced but smiled broadly nonetheless content with his juvenile teasing.

“Find out what he wants and send him home.” Dremma pleaded.

Nehra replied with a sinister chortle.

“A virgin.”

Eristock Ghendri, demon lord of the Havoc tribe of Shaadiv, roamed calmly among the flitting shadows and chilling hisses of The Labyrinth.  The Labyrinth it self was literally an endless maddening web of dark passages that spanned on in to the black horizon.  The air was dry and stank of rot.  Blowing mildly, a breeze shifted his dark green hair about his broad shoulders. Encompassing all, the malevolent Dark Storm seethed and lurched. It was a live entity, the Dark Storm. There seemed to be no end to it.  There were moments when the contours of twisted faces would appear, uttering soundless screams, their bulbous clouded eyes puss filled, glaring coldly upon him. They were incessant, the broken bodies, and dismembered rotting things. 

 The morbid setting did little to unsettle a demon such as him. Eristock sought the center of the Labyrinth and he knew his way well.  His focused cunning yellow eyes were shadowed by his brow.  He stared strait ahead as he progressed along the crumbling stone path before him. The demon’s blue skin pulled tightly over his knuckles as he clenched his fists.  Eristock was approaching something much more sinister than the taunting wraiths of the Dark Storm, something old as time, the pinnacle of malfeasance.

Eristock slowed his determined strides as he came to the edge of the stone path. The demon lord stared out in to the mire to watch a virulent black dragon slip in to view. Its glittering black scales undulated and writhed as the great beast whipped the stagnant air with its immense leathery wings. Eristock watched cautiously as the creature flew overhead. The dragon cocked its slender reptilian head and focused one of its sharp eyes upon the demon lord. Eristock sneered. The dragon’s large milky eye blinked, narrowing inquiringly at the demon’s presence. The dragon flicked its tail haughtily, tilted a wing and departed silently, disappearing back in to the black fog of the eternal Dark Storm. Eristock was relieved to see the dragon. The great beasts were only seen this deep in the Labyrinth when the Dark Lord was wakeful. Pleased, his lip curled wickedly to reveal a mouth full of fangs. 

Now standing at the precipice in the Dark Lord’s throne, deep in the bowels of The Labyrinth, Eristock Gendri waited. He waited to be noticed, waited for permission, and it enraged him to have to wait for anything!

 Lord of the Flies, Satan, Beelzebub, Lucifer. He’d heard the mortal names. The Old Ones called him Ruzabel Ithuan’ezbur Lord of the Dark Storm. Eristock clenched his already tense jaw. It was necessary for him to grovel in this manner.  It had been almost three thousand years since The Black War. A war in which the Elundri, the children of Elan, had dared to face the Horde. Eristock grit his teeth in bitter remembrance. Just when the Horde had nearly crushed the Elundri legions, inches from snaring the pale morsels by the throat, Ruzabel, the great lord of the Dark Storm, had called a truce with the Gods. Eristock, a demon of havoc, a creature that lived for chaos, was growing ill. He was tired, tired of waiting countless centuries for the chance. He craved the blood soaked battle fields and the din of the suffering. That is why he stood before the greatest creature of malevolence silently begging to be heard. 

There was a sudden shift in the gently blowing air. A wave of stinking moisture assailed Eristock. He peered out in to the mire. There was a noticeable amount of activity among the creatures of the Dark Storm. It seemed to bubble and boil. Eristock watched, awe widening his fierce eyes, as two long winding slivers of dull light creased the Storm.  These slivers gradually widened to become a pair of glowering eyes. Eristock couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of trepidation as he watched his master materialized before him.   

A resonant, androgynous voice echoed wickedly in the cavernous void. 

“Child. You pursue me...me...me...." 

Another gust of fetid air made the demon lord step back a bit. Eristock summoned his voice and called out confidently.

“I do, Dark Lord. I, Eristock Gendri," the havoc demon bowed his head respectfully. "Seek your foresight."

The great pair of eyes tilted inquisitively. “Speak."

“The time has come my lord to act. We have waited long enough. We must strike out at our enemies."

There was a long pause. The sliver eyes wavered, reflecting, scrutinizing the insolent creature before it.  

“You wish to war." stated Ruzabel.

 " I wish to vanquish our enemies, yes, my Lord."

" Child." chided Ruzabel. " What you demand can not be....can not be..."

Eristock's lips parted, aghast. 

He snarled. “What?! I can not believe what I am hearing!  I could readily see that the other demon Lords could shirk their duty!" He huffed. “They have grown indifferent and lazy!  Yet, even you, Ruzabel, Sanguine Emperor...shy away as if to hide like a sniveling imp! It is time!  Do you see!?"  Eristock grit his teeth, unsure of what his extreme breach of protocol would bring.  A gentle cackling started as an echoing whisper, and then grew in to a chorus of heckling laughter, snickers and giggles. The seething entities of the Dark Storm churned. The huge pair of eyes narrowed. A horizontal slit formed below the eyes taking the shape of a grinning mouth.

" Whimsical child."

Eristock's expression darkened.  The grinning mouth faded.  The eyes slowly closed then dissipated all together. His audience with the Dark Lord was over.   Eristock stepped back, regarding the mass of mocking faces and jeering shadows.  His rage and humiliation made his skin burn. He sucked in a huge breath through clenched fangs and bellowed angrily at the cackling wraiths. He turned swiftly, sweeping his heavy cloak about in his wake and stormed away from the Dark Lords dismal throne. His hardened visage rippled with fury.