“Bastards!” The sound of a glass shattering against the basalt stone punctuated Terimak’s outburst. He turned angrily and began stalking back and forth in his tent. “Bring me a slave. Any slave! They continue to mock me.” Terimak’s pacing ended as he threw himself into his chair, his anger barely contained.
The sounds of struggling heralded the return of one of his demonic guards, carrying the unfortunate sacrifice.
Terimak rose, almost purring his satisfaction, “They will learn though and they will kneel before me. As all the world will kneel before me and I will destroy the council of Seven and put myself in their place.” His hand caressed the side of the slave before him before he started. The feeling of bliss began almost immediately as he began ripping the very life from the slave before him. Tearing all traces of power from the body as brutally as possible. He imagined doing the same to the Council and for a moment nearly lost control, his anger and power slipping its bonds briefly. He reasserted control with some effort and methodically began stripping the life from the slave as brutually as possible. He left the heart and brain for last, so that the slave would live as long as possible. The agony would be all the more exquisite for the care taken in prolonging the death.
When Terimak exited his tent, several hours later, the screaming had after a few hours, to be replaced with the giggling of the terminally insane, though that had ended before the death of the poor creature, it’s vocal cords drained of life shortly before Terimak had drained it’s brain and heart of all life and power. He idly savored the feeling tasting once again the combination of bliss that the infusion of power always brought, along with the satisfaction the screams and agony brought as well. He moved confidently to the command tent, “General Ormang. How goes preparations to destroy the fools who defy my new rule?”
The Demon Lord stood almost 9 feet tall, his massive frame held a brownish tinge to it, and added to the impression of bark that his tough skin provided. Even with the toughness of his skin though he wore plate mail, tinged red by the forging process. He bowed to Terimak, “It all proceeds apace My Lord Terimak. We should be at the castle tomorrow. All indications are that they have shut themselves in and are merely awaiting our arrival.” A hideous grin stretched across his face, stretching his lips over sharpen teeth, “Probably afraid to meet us in the open because we would tear them limb from limb.”
“Excellent. We will finish this quickly. You are to send your demons at the front gates immediately. Give them no time, break the gates if they have managed to repair them, and get in there. Bring me the three demons who are there if you can but kill them if you must. Regardless I want their bodies though, so no eating them. Make that clear.”
Terimak studied the maps, not that they made much sense to him but more to seem like they did. In truth, outside of the commander of his cavalry forces probably none of his ‘generals’, demons for the most part since he had excuted the others, really used the maps.
“My Lord!” A flustered cavalry officer came running up to the command tent, “Something’s happening on the western side of camp!” As though to punctuate his statement flames began leaping from tents and the sounds of shouts, roars and roars slowly began to become audible.
Terimak looked annoyed and glared at Ormang, “Too frightened to meet us in the open ehh? Go deal with this! Or you'll be serving me one last time!"
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