After That Which Consumes Peace finished his counter-accusation, there came the critical moment. Now it was the Master's turn to act, and that realisation seemed to hit the Keeper pretty hard. The Keeper hesitated, while Torrens watched and within his mind judged the Keeper. Unlike most of the beings here, who were first timers when it came to serving Keepers, Torrens had served many Keepers before this one over many Ages of Evil. This Keeper was not an expert leader or diplomat, but that could be forgiven since Keepers very rarely if ever have to settle disputes among their own minions. In all the past Ages Keepers had conjured their own minions and Constructs, which often varied from loyal to unerringly obedient, and took only one or two Rogue Beings. However, inside this Dungeon were not one or two but at least thirteen Rogue Beings, including himself, filling a full spectrum of loyalty and temper. He could understand why the Master might err at this moment.

With this analysis in mind, Torrens deduced that the casting of the shadow spell on the slaves was to buy time to think more than any other reason, especially given the slow way he cast it, individually rather than all at once. Given that time, the Keeper had finally found words to say and berated the two beings standing before him. Then he passed judgement and punishment. With Shukra, he confiscated the stolen slaves. What he did with That Which Consumes Peace, though, made Torrens stand to attention. In the warlock's hand materialised a whip of concentrated soulflame, which Torrens instantly recognised. Before he could so much as take a step, yet alone grab a sample, the which cracked and it was gone as fast as it had appeared. He admired the control the Keeper had over the flame, controlling the strike such that the shadowy demon's soul would only be slightly burned, not catch fire and be completely immolated. For soulflame is tricky stuff to contain indeed- the foul magic behind it makes the green flames almost alive, seeking out a soul to burn unless the utmost care is taken. The moment was over, but Torrens made sure to remember that the Master had the power and knowledge to summon soulflame.

With the scene over and business shifting back to dividing up the loot, Torrens left the chamber and sought out a room to call his own. Unlike most of the other denizens, who would be satisfied with any room provided it had suitable furnishings, Torrens needed a room which would contain his thermal energy and minimise his heat loss. A lava pit would be ideal, but lacking that he knew what would be second best. He entered the Dungeon's forge, which was occupied at this time by imps preparing for the influx of metal to work with. He walked up to a group of them and said, "I have a request- well, an order, really. Build me a room behind the furnace. Reroute the furnace's exhaust into that room, so as to keep it hot. You'll probably need to conceive something to stop the smoke from coming out the doorway filling the rest of the Dungeon. And I want it done quickly. Understood?"

These imps, however, were not keen on taking up extra work. "Bah, find yerself another room. We got work 'ere to do."

In response to that Torrens slammed his hand onto the bench beside the imp and leaned over so his face was right up close to the imp. Although this imp was a furnace worker, being in such close proximity to Torrens was still deeply uncomfortable and even somewhat painful and the imp was forced to shy back. "It wasn't optional," Torrens snarled, "You build me that room, or else you'll be getting to know me a bit too... closely. Understand now?" The imp swallowed hard and nodded. Getting the response he wanted, Torrens stood back up and returned to normal tones, the only sign of his anger before being the deep, red-hot smoking hand-print in the workbench. "Good. Get to work. I haven't got much better to do." As the imps prepared to dig, Torrens went to the furnace and sat down at its opening. It wasn't particularly hot for a furnace, since it wasn't in use, but it definitely beat standing in the cold cave.