Visibly pleased when two volunteered---the fire demon and the gladiator---the Overlord sent them on their way with a wave. He called out, [b][i]"Quickly, now. They have a head start!"[/i][/b]

As he spoke those words his gaze hadn't left the wraith. He was just about to throw in a comment wishing the two happy hunting when Cold Stare responded after what seemed to have been a bit of deliberation. Then, the wraith promptly proceeded to fade away. Perhaps it wasn't much for talking.

In any case, the Master's withering gaze was next turned towards that strange beast of a warrior. [i]Balothiss.[/i] The giant, hot-headed former thief. Oh, Balothiss was a piece of work to be sure, yet he was at least entertaining to watch. Sensing that Balothiss was more than a little nervous and worried about punishment, the Overlord merely stared at him for several seconds. Then he at last flashed a disarming smile after deciding that he had tortured his follower enough. His response to Balothiss's 'mistake' was, [b][i]"Well, I watched as you torched half a dozen homes and with them Athinar's perfect plan. I could have stopped you, but I chalked it up to eagerness rather than disloyalty, or worse, incompetence...in any case, you were amusing to say the least! Perhaps I should even reward you..."[/i][/b]

On a mere whim, the Master waved his hand and an arc of light flew towards Reaver, Balothiss's sword. The magical light seeped into the blade's metal and enchanted it. When the warrior next used it he would find a few pleasant improvements. 

With his usual look of mixed mild amusement (or was it sheer insanity?) he now faced the sorry lot of cowards and incompetent fools that had lurked behind whilst the others took this village...so much for being his champions. But then Athinar approached with an intent look. Gah, he would deal with those fools in a moment.

As Athinar drew closer it became clear that he had a wild, fiery look in his eyes and that he was utterly [i]livid.[/i] Yes, the Master's could see, smell, and even magically [i]sense[/i] the reek of anger and insubordination that wafted out of that one. All before he even spoke, and then dared to put a hand on the Master's shoulder. This would not stand!

Athinar would most likely to be infuriated to have his Master respond by guffawing and not showing the slightest tinge of fear. Athinar demanded to know why the Master had sent down the meteorite and there answer was simple enough: it had shattered the human's resolve to fight, killed no less than two dozen defenders and likely saved Athinar in doing so, it had tested Athinar's might, and most importantly it had been quite delightful to watch from afar! But the Master didn't deign to answer his champion's impudent questions.

After his laugh was done, he spoke to his [i]minion[/i] with an even more insidious tone than usual, [b][i]"Do not question my reasoning, Athinar!"[/i][/b] At this point the Overlord brushed off Athinar's hand from his shoulder. Even through the human flesh of his warlock host and through the magical robes, the demon's searing touch was agonizingly hot and would be unpleasant for Athinar to feel, to say the least.

[b][i]"Just as I thought to congratulate you on this small victory, or perhaps even [i]reward[/i] you, you show such disrespect! But no matter...I am in a merciful and forgiving mood. Remove your helmet, kneel, and kiss my boot."[/i][/b] The Master's eyes were always as fiery as the depths of hell from whence the demon had emerged from, yet now they seemed to glower even brighter with a sadistic gleam. He did not say what might happen should Athinar refuse, but it would not be pretty...powerful as he was, Athinar would have been hard pressed to defeat the Master even with the advantage of surprise. Betraying his intentions meant that the warlock was fully prepared to fight.

So Athinar had a choice: he could submit to the humiliation and please the Master at the cost of quite possibly losing all respect from the onlookers as they watched him cowed and put back into his place. Or he could risk being defiant. It might gain him some respect, but then again being reduced to a pile of ashes would be even more pathetic than falling to his knees and kissing the warlock's boot.

Meanwhile, a veritable surge of red imps continued to be advance towards the paladin. Those at the front saw their danger and tried to back away, yet they were shoved forward by those behind who could not see her. A few of the small demons mustered up what magic they had and hurled fireballs at her, but more alarmingly many began yelling for their Master and for his more powerful minions. If their attention was raised and they bore down upon the paladin with all their might, she would not last for long.