Torrens stood upright as all the Fire Spirits burst out of the ground and flew across the village, hunting for bodies. He smiled at the sight of fire everywhere, despite the fact that it wasn't burning anything.

"That, is what it does. And, that is what I was waiting here for. I am glad that nobody tried to interupt me while I was doing that. Small rituals are fine, but something this size would be likely to spill Muspelheim into our realm, and make the area contained in this rune an eternal super-lava pit, and the increase in temprature would affect everything for miles and miles, which would basically screw up the eco-system and, in fifty or so years, make this a hunk of rock with a highly unpredictable weather pattern"

"That sounds pretty good, actually. Could you do that some time?" Torrens said, with a laugh to let the others know that he wasn't entirely serious. An eternal lava pit would be exactly what Torrens wanted, although destroying the world to have it may make some of his allies a little unhappy. "Maybe just a small one."

"So, I think I have just sorted out the central heating problem in the Dungeon"

Torrens' face lit up at the thought. "Yes! About time we fixed that."

"Ow....remind me to work on the flying when we get back"

"I could help with that. I've got some experience with rocket flight," Torrens offered. He was sincere, since he was starting to like Emily. She was useful- she generated fire, he ate it. He could see the benefit of staying on her good side.

Looking around to the rising bodies, and the village which was now empty save for the zombies and themselves, Torrens remarked, "I think we're done here. I'll see if I can get back to the Dungeon without burning down too much forest." He waved to Clotho and Emily and started the trek back to the Dungeon.

The battle, if it could even be called that, was swiftly coming to a close. Any meaningful resistance had been crushed, and any that had a will to fight were col corpses. At least, until their bodies were possessed and animated by the fiery spirits summoned by Emily. The Dungeon Keeper drew this morning's event to a close with yet another telepathic signal, though this one was not to his champions that had done the fighting.

Rather, the signal was sent to the hordes of imps that had been lurking in the woods a ways off while this happened. Now that they had been told that the fighting was done, the defenders gone, and the village ripe for plunder, the cowardly demons ran for the village with their mouths almost salivating. As the hundred or eager demons surged out of the treeline, they swept across the land like a crimson wave of blood. They poured into each and every building, scouring every crevice. They found a surprising amount of the villagers alive inside the homes, as several had simply hid in their closets or beneath their beds when they heard the sound of fighting.

In any case, when there were five of the cowardly imps against one or two terrified women or children, the demons turned out to be not so craven after all. The people that they found were dragged outside, as was anything remotely valuable. Tools, food, jewelry, even furniture was stolen. A few imps went about ripping doors out of their frames. Having no scruples, the depraved minions even found their way to the village cemetery and defiled its sanctity with their grave robbing. The demons butchered all of the livestock to bring back the meat and hides, then set about emptying the granaries. The only way that the scene could have been more sickening would have been if Emily had not turned the corpses into flame zombies; imps tended to carry small daggers not only to torture the dying, but only so that they could loot slain enemies. They were known to cut off fingers in order to take rings, and use the pommel of their daggers to smash out any golden teeth.

By the time that the morning had turned to midday, the imps had thoroughly looted the entire settlement; after all, imps are notoriously quick and efficient when it comes to sacking hamlets. A dozen of the nefarious creatures drew a circle in the middle of the village, and set out performing a dark ritual. After a long incantation and sacrificing a few victims, they had created a portal into the dungeon, which they promptly used to begin taking back all of their ill-gained loot. Any servants of the Overlord that hadn't already left to march back to the dungeon could simply take the portal, sparing them the short walk. Several of the imps stayed behind for a while to burn down the rest of the village. They would leave the humans nothing to reclaim save ash. Not even the remains of their countrymen would be left behind, for Emily had put those corpses to good use.

Once everybody had returned, one of the larger chambers of the cave system was cleared. Every human captive and looted object was to be displayed there for the Horde to claim and split up as they saw fit. A short time after the meeting was assembled and most everyone had showed up, the shadows in the room began to twitch. The champions, most likely quarreling over their pick of loot and prisoners, might not have noticed the change. Some of the terrified prisoners chained by the wall did, however, for the shadows' motion was accompanied by an aura of dread and choking evil. Their soft hearts were not used to such sensations yet.

Suddenly the shadow of every object in the dimly lit chamber began to crawl across the floor, converging in one point. The shadows themselves having moved, the room was strangely bright, lit by some sort of foreboding red glow as the darkness began to recede into one corner and then coalesce. After a few moments, the shadows twisted and swirled, the imposing figure of the Master manifesting itself. His dramatic entrance complete, the shadows sprinted back to where the belonged.

With a dark grin, the Dungeon Keeper stepped forth. His demonic voice spoke out with the cadence of steel grinding on stone, "Well done. That hamlet is no more, and ever faithful to my orders, none escaped. Of course, I expected nothing less."

Those of the human captives that were missing family members or friends choked at that statement, but they dared not speak. They would not utter so much as a word in this horrific place, surrounded by countless nightmarish demons and monsters.

A subtle grin appeared on the warlock's visage, a rare look of crass amusement. "So, on to business... For my share of spoils, I shall take only ten slaves."

With a mere flick of his wrist ten of the humans vanished into thin air, the empty shackles that had bound them clattering onto the stone floor.

Having taken his toll, the Dungeon Keeper was now content to let his followers claim their loot from the small hoard. Once the meeting had achieved that much, the topic would move on to their the thoughts of the various denizens of the dungeon, and then they would likely be left to their own devices for a time while their master set about working on his next plot.

Octavius had bared witness to much this day, he watched as everyone ran about like children, most of them anyways. One thing for certain was he saw was many strengths and weaknesses, powers being used after cooped up inactivity to far too long. It was expected for everyone to play to their strengths and one-up each other while the human had nothing to show for it. No souls, no treasure, no blood on his blade. Just a potion of light curing, about as much as he would have gotten from a goblin warcamp.

Most important of all, though, was witnessing the keepers power in the form of the crimson tide of imps. He actually tried to keep a head count to track them all and measure them as a whole as to their physical strength or obvious weaknesses to fire or the like. He watched the imps raid and raze it all to ruin and finally open a portal. He tried to memorize the ritual in case he would ever need it.

Through the portal, he joined the rest to mill about, waiting the the keeper who arrived in a splendid display of power. He offered such a grand entrance a polite applaud as it deserved but was surprised that his claim was a mere ten people. Intruiged,he quietly cast a detection spell to look for any magic amidst the slaves or the items, looking for arcane or holy auras.

"Interesting," Shukra said as he watched the spirits of fire erupt from the ground, using his little bit of magic to check their movements and what they were doing. "Very interesting." The orcs, oblivious to magic, were confused by his statement, but none dared to question him. He was to them as the Dungeon Keeper was to him. It gave him a little bit of satisfaction to have his little army of orcs. The forty he had with him now - ten seemed to have been lost, most of them likely to his own allies - were but a small force compared to what he had hidden away in the hills. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of their entire race at his foot. But, that was some ways away, and for now, there were other problems.

Such as the tidal wave of imps that poured out of the forest into the village. Shukra pulled a face of disgust. Imps were disgusting little creatures, hardly fit to be eaten, much less to serve anyone in any real capacity. But, the Master seemed to trust them, so he would not question him on this matter. What he would question was the one that eventually worked its way up to him and held its hand out for the prisoners. What the imp received was Shukra's boot in his face, sending blood and teeth flying as the creature was sent sailing away. "These are mine, vermin. Loot elsewhere." The menacing look and the threat of a second kick was enough to send the creature away, no doubt to report to the Master.

Shukra grunted, and sent his orcs away with the prisoners back home. They had strict orders to not harm them in any manner, unless they attempted escape, and then to integrate them back home. Shukra, however, had business elsewhere, unfortunately. He entered the village as the creatures finished their portal, and stepped within. And back in the dungeon they were, much to Shukra's dismay. They were conquerors, warlords, future kings and queens, lords and masters. They deserved more than just a stinking pit to come back to after a raid. He grimaced again, and found himself a place to sit, which was a simple wooden chair he'd managed to coerce an imp into retrieving for him. It creaked and groaned under his weight. He might have to use a prisoner as a stool if it broke.

The Master's entrance was... exasperating. Too much show and display of power. Whether it was for the prisoners or the "champions" didn't matter. It was an irritating show, and Shukra's expression and the finger against his temple showed it. He had respect for the creature that had given him a purpose, but these things were wastes of time. Even his claim seemed like a waste. Ten humans disappeared, and nothing else. Even he had managed to get more than that on his own. But, regardless, he did not say a word, did not move a muscle, and merely waited for everyone else to begin shouting their claims at each other before taking anything else.

When Ekusha arrived back at the cave, her pretentiousness had finally settled. She felt her powers were under-utilized during the raid, but she had a newfound appreciation for her colleagues. They were just as prideful as she was, but she could now empathize how they felt entitled to their attitudes. However, what had transpired this morning was essentially an extremely frustrating pissing contest, at least in her eyes.

Once the Master had taken his share of the loot, Ekusha politely refrained. Aside from not contributing as much as her peers, she had no desire for monetary gain and the emotionally and psychologically scarred humans would be of no use to her. The group wore a variety of expressions, but now they could finally hop on the same page. She took on her corporeal form to provide a face to her personality.

"I don't know about any of you, but I do not rest. I took notice of a few villages neighboring the one we've just raided. Since it's only mid-day, I think we should clean them out tonight, hopefully before any travelers or traders arrive to witness the ruin..."

"Now, I do not have the physical strength or magics to pursue combat like the rest of you, but without my body I am capable of much more..." Ekusha began roughly detailing her powers to any that would listen: how she could touch the minds of mortals, able to both read and communicate as either an internal organic thought or external voice. "Mortal minds are extremely impressionable and internally vocal, especially if they can convince themselves that the ideas flowing through their heads are their own. They have a vested interest in self-preservation, and every action they take is advantageous in their own eyes. I do not believe in conquer through chaos, rather one that still leaves the subject and all others around them believing they are succeeding through their own will. What makes it all even more available to me is because they constantly cycle through their thoughts, buffering pressing matters with trivial ones, and vice versa, depending on the situation most immediate to them."

"None of you have reason to trust me, but I plan to make a trip on at least one of these villages before dusk. If any of you wish to come with me, I would not be opposed. When I... or we... return, I suggest we organize ourselves for our next strike, whenever that may be. A series of contained destructions is not sustainable, not-so-subtle, and especially not preferable: suspicion leads to retaliation, and the element of surprise only diminishes with each iteration."

Twich's arrival back at the Dungeon had been a quiet matter, simply slipping in with the other returning champions. Where others might have disliked being in the tunnels of their home base, the Kobold himself was more then comfortable in such an environment. In fact, a part of him felt that the tunnels were a bit to big, and not booby trapped and maze like enough to account for a proper defense! He made a mental note to speak with the Master about getting in contact with his tribe and trying to get them to move in... When it came to digging and protecting ones tunnel home, nothing was better then kobolds!

As the task of dividing the loot arose, one of Twich's peers came forwards with a suggestion to hit more villages while they still had the element of surprise. While Twich himself was little inclined to join such a venture, he could see the appeal of it easily enough. "If you powers are what you say they are, why not take the orcs with you? While your razing those villages to the ground you can implant in the heads of those fleeing that the orc tribes in the mountains to the north west must have found a way past the castle and into the southern lands to start raiding. No one will investigate to deeply because orcs actually did raid those villages, the local powers that be will send its military into the mountains to retaliate and no doubt be weaken by the conflict. The orcs in those mountains will also be weakened by the conflict and be pissed off about the unprovoked attack against them; Meaning that they will be easier to bring into the fold one way or the other."

"And to top it off, our existence gets largely ignored for the time being and we get a bit more loot. So really, I don't see a downside."

The hexblade looked over to the two most reasonable minds he knew in this place with a nod.

"You are right, anyone heading south is going to catch onto a missing village and report further north by the end of the day. I'll ride with you to help keep things quiet, just give me a second to get some different gear."

He listened to the kobold with a grin as he touched the vial from earlier. On one hand, he considered to keep it for later on the ride north or after a evening with the pixie he had waiting in his room, but the other was to return the unused supply at least as a token gesture for the dragonkin to refuse if he didn't need it. In the end the token gesture won out as he removed the philtre to hand it down to the scaled sage.

"Not a bad suggestion if we can borrow some orcs for the job. The only thing we need to make sure of is to route the orcs past the villages unseen then come back around to approach from the foothills on the northeast to make sure it looks right to direct the forces further away from the targets. Did you want this back?."

Torrens was also in the chamber when the Master had congratulated the lot of them on their destruction of the village. He was pacing in a corner, with everyone who could help it keeping their distance from the searing incandescence of the demon. In fact, his mere presence in the room for the minutes they had been there would have made the temperature of that chamber uncomfortably warm. As for the offer of the loot, Torrens was rather detached from it. No material goods could possibly benefit him unless they were either enchanted completely against heat or were combustible and in very large quantity, and none of the loot fitted either category. "I have no use for any of this stuff," Torrens announced.

As discussion shifted to plans of further raids, his attention was grabbed. "I'd be happy to come along, although I'm afraid that I can't be of much help if your plans don't accommodate frontal assaults or lots of fire. As you can tell," Torrens said, gesturing to his incandescent self, "I'm not well built for subtlety. But I can burn things really well. Especially if I get a chance to before I radiate all this energy away."

It then hit Torrens that he hadn't killed anything during the raid, and as for burning things he had set one house alight in passing and that was it. He would be annoyed if he hadn't been able to feast on the blacksmith's forge, but since he had Torrens was quite content with the outcome of that raid. There had been no villagers he had seen which had been worth expending energy in killing, so his active presence wouldn't have been missed. When they actually found something worth fighting, though, then things would get fun.

Emily followed the others back into the portal after watching the imps do their scavaging thing. It was quite interesting to watch, and she was glad for the wait, since several of the more damaged bodies didn't make the transition and just melted into a pool before draining into the ground. The spirits that where thrown from their bodies where annoyed by this, but hung around in spiritual form because they knew Emily would get them a new body soon. She'd need to get them all bodies soon, since even the best Zombie wasn't alive and so the spirit would melt the body eventually.

Once inside, Master made a showy enterance, and took several of the slaves, without even casting an eye over her spirits. Sure they were finite in lifespan but that didn't mean they should be ignored entirely. This made Emily sad, and what made her even sadder was that the Master thought she and the rest would be interested in physical treasure. Was was the point of it, since they could just rob everything they wanted anyway and not use the treasure.

However, there was talk of more raids, and so Emily thought to get into it before there was chance to maim and slaughter, so she could get her spirits real bodies. Even now the Abominations where leaking onto the floor, and one had even melted entirely, so getting new hosts was priority.
"I could send my spirits out to several of the closer villages, and have them take hold of real, live people. They could scout around the town and be privy to the minds of their hosts, since such weak magicless peasents could never resist a Fire Spirit. That could help up work out which was the best village to hit with the raid"

The raid was finally over and everyone quickly headed back to the dungeon through the portal created by the Imps. Once Umbra finally returned to the dungeon he noticed Christopher quietly staring in awe as everyone walked by. Strangely looking at those around him as if they were heroes returning from an epic quest. The very thought that Christopher thought this way deeply confused Umbra, most hide there faces or cower, but he always held his head high.

It wasn’t long before the Master appeared in what seemed like a very showy manner. Christopher’s face lit up from the performance and as he let out a slight giggle. After the Master took his keep and left the rest to us. It wasn’t long before Christopher noticed the slaves and in a strange attempt to get to know them better quickly ran over to the small group asking questions like “what's it like to be a slave?” and “does that mean you are going to do my chores?”

Umbra on the other hand stood still, silently listening to the others discuss possibly raiding another village, one even suggesting to bringing Orcs to further confuse the enemy. Emily even suggested scouting the villages with here spirits. Though all were great ideas Umbra had a different plan that might work, and it would require a lot less effort. He quickly turned towards Christopher and took possession of him.

“You guys have great ideas, but if our goal is to simply prevent them from discovering that we are responsible for attacking the village then simply send me in the body of one of our new captives, preferably a female” he paused for a second to clear his throat. Having to use Christopher to explain something like this was a bit difficult, but it should be easily understood. “I play the part of a victim, a young pretty woman who just survived a ferocious Orc attack leaving non-alive other than ‘me’. The people will most likely believe me as they have no reason not to, and investigate the attack. Later that night as they investigate the attack I 'commit suicide' even leaving a note about how I simply couldn’t live with the loss of my family. They already have evidence against the orcs for the attacks, they may even possibly look over a few things out of sheer anger. I believe the idea is fairly solid, we spend less resources early on, have time to regroup and rest until the next raid, and ultimately accomplishing our goals.” Umbra put on a sinister smile as he finished, only for it look nothing more than slightly adorable on Christopher.

Shortly after the Overlord handed over the floor to his subordinates to allow them to begin splitting up the loot, one of the imps began to list off what they had procured. "There's 47 humans left now, with a variety of different skills," the weaselly demon croaked out before suddenly turning to Shukra with an accusing gaze, "...not counting those dozen or so that this one already spirited off."

Slowly the Dungeon Keeper's withering gaze turned to Shukra, and he gave a long and silent stare. The look of his infernal eyes piercing one's soul would be enough to reduce most beings to a stammering mess, but Shukra's own demonic nature and his excessive pride would most likely make him indifferent. If anything, the warlord's face looked scornful. The Master correctly assumed that the look was agitation at his rather grandiose appearance, but what else would he have done? Waste his time walking through the labyrinth of moldy tunnels, when he could simply manifest here? "Pah," he thought, "they need to be shown their own weakness through the occasional show of power of my part, lest thoughts of treason cross their greedy minds."

While the Dungeon Keeper had been lost in those thoughts, the imp had continued, "Beyond that, there's a few pounds of various silver objects and perhaps one pound of gold, ten kegs of ale, two hundred sacks of grain and other foodstuffs, some spices, some enchanted swords and armor from the manor, all sorts of fine cutlery and other weapons from the smith, bags of coal, all manner of tools..." The imp droned on for some time, listing many of the more mundane things that could be found in your average village.

"And of course, we will find a good use for anything that is not claimed," he finished, before looking at the captives with sadistic glee and adding, "...or any person, for that matter."

The shrill voice of another imp spoke out, "There's already plenty of those things." The demon pointed a bony finger, its tip sharp like a claw, towards Emily's flame zombies.

Suddenly taking note of how Emily had seen fit to bring dozens of the burning corpses into the meeting room, the master felt agitated. With another flick of his hand the flame demons vanished in a way similar to the humans had. "They will be kept in a safe place while they rest and await their orders," he explained before anybody could object, not as if he would have cared much if they had complained. At the end of the day this was not much of a democracy, after all.

When the others began to discuss possible plans for the nearby villages, the Keeper turned his gaze to each of them as they voiced their minds. He offered no comment yet, for he liked to weigh what they had to say before thinking for himself and coming to a decision. They seemed more worried than he was about the razed village being discovered. In rural areas like these, such villages received next to no visitors. It would be the farmers coming to sell produce or purchase tools from the larger towns that would be missed, but even then it would no doubt be some time before anyone thought to investigate such a small village suddenly ceasing its contact.

Athinar grinned as the Master expressed pleasure at their performance. He had done well, and Athinar knew it, but to get such recognition from the one he was currently working for, well, it felt good. Almost as good as spilling blood. Before everyone started to argue over the spoils, Athinar grabbed a slave, and picking him up from the scruff of the neck, enough to keep him restrained, and above the reach of the imps that now spilled about him, tossed him over his shoulder. He needed at least one slave. Didn't matter what for. Maybe he'd have him cook for him or something. Anyways, that wasn't important. Turning to Kor, he saluted the Darkwraith with a mock salute. "Well met. And goodbye. I have to take care of some things. Hope to see you in the next raid." Passing the group, he overheard the words "raid" and "village" in the same sentence, but unfortunately heard "scout" and "infiltrate", as well as "plan". Raising his voice above the din of the assorted creatures, he said, "If you need things or people broken, come see me. I'm not much for scouting. Call me when you're up for a frontal assault." Waving, he pushed past a burning zombie, not even minding the singeing that was blackening his slave's face.

Finally out of the central entrance, Athinar found himself able to breathe. Roughly setting the terrified village down, allowing him to walk, he rolled his arms around in his sockets. Taking off his helmet, he shook out his long silver hair, allowing it to fall down around his eyes. "So, uhhh, what do you do?" Raising his finger before he had the chance to answer, he said, "Whatever name you had before, it is irrelevant. You now answer to Meat." Athinar then waved his hand, allowing the man to speak, as a pack of imps carried a door deeper into the tunnels.

"Well, I-I'm a barber." Seeing Athinar's displeased grimace, he hastily said, "That doesn't mean that I ju-just cut hair, th-though. I can act as a personal servant, and I also can act as a surgeon, in a p-pinch." Athinar, studying Meat's face, broke into a honest smile. The man was actually useful, and he had a strange pull to effective servants. He didn't know why, as just killing them all would be more fun, but a good support staff was important, he supposed. While the Boss was certainly powerful, he couldn't have come as far as he had without a base of power.

As they came upon a room, roughly carved out of the stone, a connecting tunnel to the main one, Athinar said, "Meat, if you serve me well, we won't have any problems." This seemed to reassure Meat, a nervous grin appearing on his face. Opening a wooden door that was just recently installed, Athinar looked around his room. It was quite bare, with only a single torch in a hole in the wall, and a simple bed in one corner. "Meat, this is my room. You should be okay, if you do not leave. Ever." Gritting his teeth, he leaned in close. "Except for when I tell you, of course. But if you leave for any reason except for by my order, then we WILL have problems. Do you understand me?" Meat nodded his head frantically. Athinar, satisfied, exited the room, leaving Meat behind, and locking the door behind him. He then headed off to see what the Boss wished of him. While the other champions had a solid idea, he would like to see the Boss's opinions on the matter. The first one he met up with, on the way to the boss, he would greet with a command and a question. "Follow me. So, what is the plan?"

Emily was standing around, keeping watch over her zombies while still being present, and subtly cleaning up the mess of an Abomination that did not cut it and turned into fleshy slag. But then, Master looked over - causing Emily to grin happily, regardless of the reason he was looking for - and made them all vanish. Emily didn't really understand teleporting and pocket dimensions, but she did understand her darlings, and what they needed.
"O...k...But, the Abominations haven't finished, and as dead corpses, the spirit'll burn through them in a few days. So, I am not sure how it works, but you are probably going to have some melted person in your teleporty place tommorow" she warned. It wasn't vindictive at all, she just thought that people should be warned about melted person.

She didn't really think there was much, if anything, left to say and she wasn't interested in the physical wares that had been brought back. What she wanted had already been obtained - in part, at least because the bodies could hardly speak and it was crypic when they could enunciate - but the gist was there. And the gist, was not subtle, which might annoy some people she knew. So, it was her need of less-than-subtle that caused her to stay where she was, since she would have to speak to Master after the rest where gone. Things needed doing.

Shukra listened to the plans of many of the other champions in the room, and perked his ears. They had good ideas, but none that he approved of. Mostly because they revolved around laying blame at the feet of the orcs, and therefore his feet, as he would inevitably have to deal with the humans that stormed the mountains and attacked the orcs. It might make it easier for him to conquer them, but would likely end up with him taking more losses than he wanted. He more approved of Umbra's plan, but still, it wasn't something that he greatly approved of. For now, he thought it best to allow the other villages to do as they pleased. The neighbors were few and far away. However, he did chime in, saying, "I suggest that either one of our spirits or ghosts go to one of the villages and assert themselves as the leader, after learning their mannerisms. It would give us an advantage, and possibly allow us to turn an entire village and the miliita to us without too much of an issue. Or one of our more persuasive friends," he motioned to Ekusha lazily, "Could more effectively turn the leader and his local guard to us. Might have some fun doing it, too." Satisfied with his piece said, he quieted down as the stock list came in.

As the familiar broken face of the imp he'd crushed earlier appeared, a wicked smile came over Shukra's face. Once the imp's accusatory statement came, however, that smile turned into a snarl, and a flame burst to life on Shukra's head, forming into a mane much like a lion's. A bit of show of his own, though it wasn't much. And he expected Torrens to leap right onto him in a moment, since there was a new source of heat in the room. He stood, so as to not set the chair on fire, forcing a few humans and imps away from him. His steely gaze met the withering look of his Master. He did know fear, and felt it in that moment, but never would he admit it or let it show. No, he merely held his Master's gaze, allowing the mane of fire to grow and travel down his shoulders and back, rising in intensity.

Then, he did the unexpected: He cooled off, put out the fire, and knelt down before the Dungeon Keeper. "Forgive me, Master. I did not believe that those I collected would be missed," he explained, keeping his gaze firmly locked on the floor. "I merely wished to restore the men I lost in the raid, thanks to my supposed allies. If you wish, I can have them brought here, though it might take some time, as I had them sent to my own lair." He neglected to add the bit about the foodstuff he'd had his orcs whisk away as well. "If I may, I do have a concern to bring up." He did not wait for an affirmative before he continued. "Some of your minions do not have control of themselves, or respect for their allies. Many of my minions - and, by extent, your minions - were lost in the village because of the creature That Which Consumes Peace, and likely others in our group. It is a concern of mine that they will do even more damage to your forces once we have built a considerable army, and will sow just as much chaos in your ranks just as they would our enemies'."

He remained on his knee, waiting for the Master go give some sort of judgement.

The scene that unfolded with Shukra caught Torrens' attention, like the attention of just about everyone in the room. Contrary to Shukra's suspicion, Torrens did not 'leap right onto him in a moment'. That fire was little greater than a campfire, which made it nothing more than a morsel to the well-fed demon of heat, and leaping onto people was rude. Torrens did make a mental note that the big cat warrior chieftain could summon fire, though, especially when mad, and filed it away for later use.

Torrens watched in amusement as the great chieftain was reduced to pleading for forgiveness from the Keeper. He filed that away also, in case it every became necessary to humiliate Shukra. Then came the accusation against That Which Consumes Peace. Things just got interesting, and he was mighty glad that he was watching from the sidelines because things could get nasty really quickly. Either way, someone would walk away from this confrontation having made a rather poor early impression.

While Torrens had not been in a position to properly observe most of the raid, he was not surprised that someone had done a little bit of indiscriminate killing. Almost never had he seen so many individual Rogue Beings assembled under one Dungeon Keeper, so it was almost certain that some of them would be bad eggs. Especially That Which Consumes Peace. That demon looked shifty and had a shifty name. Torrens, on the other hand, had more self control. While his purpose in life might be to burn things, he was more than experienced and smart enough to know what not to burn and when not to burn things. If he had gone around killing his Keeper's minions for fun, or even for short term personal gain, he would have built up a poor reputation rather quickly. Depending on how this confrontation went, Torrens might give That Which Consumes Peace a bit of advice in that regard.

The meager treasures and valuables brought back by the imps were of no interest whatsoever to Narza. She couldn't even touch any of it yet without using magic. Granted, she had the feeling she'd be able to take corporeal form eventually, but she could worry about that later. For now, there were souls to be had. By the sound of what the Master had said, it was up to them to divide the spoils.

Giggling mischievously, Narza turns invisible and shoots forward into the center of the crowd of captured humans. The terrified, beaten, defeated villagers offered no mental resistance to Narza as she tore their souls from their bodies and feasted on the very essence of their being. To the unaided eye, it would look as if the humans were slowly falling to the floor one by one. They're technically still alive and can be turned into those flame zombie things later anyways Narza reasons as she eats her second soul.

She listens with detached interest to Ekusha's explanation of her powers. More specifically, she has a fragment of Derrik do it for her. After absorbing quite a few souls, Narza had come to realize that Derrik's torn apart soul could be pieced back together, and the pieces could tell her much more about how to use magic, and also unconsciously took an interest in the magic of his peers. Each soul she absorbed improved her control over her own souls, much like how it's easier to solve a puzzle with larger pieces.

As the third body slumps to the ground, Narza floats over to a fourth victim, listening intently to Octavius, Emily, and Twich. No matter what their plans were, as long as bodies were dropping, there were souls to be had. Umbra' plan was rather boring, however. From the sound of it, only one person would be dying, and Umbra would get the person anyways. Finished eating the soul of a woman with filthy, tangled brown hair covering her face, Narza moves onto the next nearest human, a middle-aged man. She vacates the body hurriedly however, as Athinar slings the man over his shoulder easily. Narza shrugs invisibly and chooses another human, this one a heavyset older man with heavy perspiration dripping down his pallid skin.

Narza giggles to herself as she hears the fire kitty complain to the Master about his dead orcs. Sure, she'd killed one, but hey, she doubted anyone saw that anyways. With some amusement, she listens as the shady demon argues back at the Orc leader. She perks up as her name is mentioned, listening to see if any Orc deaths were blamed on her. Thankfully, none were. "They were pretty tasty." Narza says mostly to herself, smiling at the memory. She would have to find more of those special souls. The Orc souls were meatier than the human souls, but not really anything special. If anything, they were actually blander, with baser thoughts and desires as its remnants stewed in her crowded consciousness. In any case, neither side of the argument concerned her yet, so Narza started on her eighth soul. Since she had begun eating near the center of the group of humans, her aftermath was less visible, but there were still seven comatose humans slumped over.

((I'm going to have only mobile access for the next week, so please excuse grammar, spelling, and colors for now.))

Torrens' attention was briefly drawn from the argument and fight developing before him as some of the humans started falling to the ground, unconscious. It appeared evident that one of the soul eaters of the party was at work here, taking an early pick of the spoils. "Don't forget to leave some for the others," Torrens berated the invisible entity. While he himself didn't particularly care about the slaves, he felt like doing his bit to maintain order in the Dungeon. One fight would be enough for the moment. They didn't need another fight if everyone turned around to discover the slaves they wanted all useless. His piece said, he turned back to observe the unfolding spectacle.

The discussion about what to do next was quickly abandoned by Twich as he had already said his peace; If they wanted to go through with a different, less effective plan then that was their business. Ignoring the pissing contest that seemed to be going on between the the tigerman and the murder demon, Twich was about to respond to the human that was offering to return his potion to him when he noticed that the slaves were dropping... not quite dead but dropping none the less.

Not completely sure exactly what was happening but aware that it was cutting down the number of test subjects he would have to work with in the future and that it had something to do with one of their number, Twich sprung into action. "HEY! We haven't divided those up yet you greedy shit! Wait your turn!"

Sick and tired of dealing with these people for the moment and wishing to get back to what he loved, Twich looked over the captives that were still standing and quickly started doing the maths and trying to work out just how many of them he would be able to get away with taking for himself without raising an uproar. Almost randomly pointing at different people and saying "You." twelve different times, Twich found himself pleased with his diverse selection of ages and near split of genders before finishing "I'll take those twelve in order to help advance the course of science. I'll also take four of the bodies someone left behind in order to do some preliminary tests. With your leave Master?" Throwing this last sentence towards the Dungeon Keeper himself, even offering him a bow to enforce his groveling. The master seemed to like groveling if you did it right.