The citadel was a silent place in winter. Many of the Order had been sent to the north to reinstate order among to kingdoms people. It was a difficult time to end a war and beckon peace through a people who have only known loss. Alastair stood at the balcony watching the remaining members being drilled by their respected masters. Even Daemons had to keep their skills honed, like everyone else. And Obedience was mandatory within the Order.
“Sit down Alastair, you needn’t worry yourself yet.” Fredrick beckoned to the chair beside the fireplace. He was eating his breakfast of freshly baked bread and cured beef. His platter was never one of extravagance. He was even wearing his leather armour ready to begin his drills in the next hour. Even the master Templar had his duties above doing the tedious paperwork. Alastair seemed far better for such tasks.
“Forgive me Fredrick, but I am not so sure things will be as well planned as we hope. JurlMach has mobilized again, our reports place them a weeks march from the capital of Gjern. I for one do not wish to see this war begin again.” Alastair always wore his iconic mask. His age was kept a mystery to outsiders, even some of the young Warlocks had been tricked into thinking he was the first grand Warlock. It was only due to his garments. They were ceremonial among the order, a way to show them all he was the Keeper of Contracts. No summoning was permitted without his consent. For good reasons too, the last unauthorised summoning had been rather messy.
“You worry too much my friend. Only a fool would raise a hand to the Order. Besides, if they did we have the strongest men in the realm.” Fredrick had his doubts though; no bravado would hide that from his old friend. Alastair and he had been brothers in arms for decades now.
Alastair hovered over the chair before instead heading to the door. “I have to brief the detachment we shall be sending to negotiate a truce. I shall see you at lunch.” Alastair left the room and the comfort of the roaring flames. His old bones always complained in the cold now. How he hated growing old.

The Main hall was always a constant flow of bodies. It linked every barracks to the rest of the complex, a circle with each respective living space in a grid corner, the Templars to the North West, the Warlocks to the North East, and the Daemon kin to the South West. The South East being the citadel entrance. It was a place built more like a church than a fortress.
Alastair walked through the hall, Templar members stood on guard, a group of Warlocks passed him discussing the machinations of the elemental arts, debating the unity of their strengths. So much these younglings had to learn. He took a small passage through the myriad of doors and hallways that honeycombed the entire complex before finding his way to one of the small rooms used to assign members their respective groups and orders. None had arrived as of yet, just as he expected.

He sat at the large rectangular table and placed his scrolls on the old oak surface. He would await each of them. Today was going to be a long day indeed…

Janette's robe was waving behind her, her footsteps echoing in the empty alley. The people probably were inside the castle and in their homes this early. Still, it was her first time in this town and she was about to be assigned into one of the groups of The Order. She was thrilled, because it was the first time she could be actually fighting for a reason. She had been practicing magic spells and potions for long enough. Or that's what she thought.
As she was coming closer to the castle, the alleys seemed to fill up with the morning chatter of the citizens, women gossiping and talking about their families while men were talking about their jobs and things similar to those.
For Janette, there had always been a few catcalls here and there, but it was nothing to worry about. After all, she had been considered a fine young lass, and it was common for men, even boys to call her names like 'sugar', 'babe', or so. What was uncommon for here was that no man had turned to face her or call her anything, and that pleased her. At last, she found a place in which not all men were as rotten and spoiled as many she knew. She just might like it a lot in here. This town, as it was, was calm and peaceful, even though the center of many wars was right there.

Soon, she was in the castle, walking through the hallways that were full with people. She took off her robe, because it got in her way, and started looking around for the room she was supposed to go to. Stopping around a few times, she didn't seem to find the right one, so she decided that the best possible choice would be to ask someone for directions.
"Excuse me, do you know where Alastair the Warlock is?" Was the question she asked everyone who seemed like they would know. After a couple or times she stopped servants around, she got the answer and headed towards the room.
Arriving there, she knocked on the door and awaited for an answer.

The Citadel, a massive labyrinth with an overwhelming collection of knowledge and power. Herunes took an eager deep breath, the air soft and soothing. Though this is what his senses told him, he held his hands up, admiring his attire. Though he made sure that mirrors where out of sight... and that any reflection from glass or steel was out of sight. He put on his adoring smile and walked out. He wasn't eager to wait around for any other possible new comers. Daemons although his kind, he done his best to avoid having much conversation with.

As he stepped into the hall, he made a few points such as a painting being moved, or an armour set on the guards altered slightly. He listened deep into air, he closed his eyes. He felt strong presence of the people around him, minds so powerful that Herunes had no hope of manipulating, though Herunes has no intention of betraying such a powerful order or even the circle...

Though their current state in the world gives him great interest. A templar had stood outside the Daemon kin dorms, walking up to Herunes he took a glance at him and pointed him to a narrow hallway 'You're expected by the grand master' The voice chuckled through the armour.

Herunes didn't reply, he only gave the man a slight bow and moved down the hallway. He walked into the room, brushing off his attire, he liked his clothes, Not very often does he feel so well dressed. He found himself in the room with the a man in robes and a mask to cover his face. It only made him smile a little more to know that this could only be the Grand Master. Herunes made his way to a chair and took his seat. He gave the man quick scan, He knows what he's doing... how I love meeting the more powerful...

He then pulled out a small book on which he had on his self, nothing more than a book of poems.

Jason looked at the castle which he was being reassigned to. He could hear the sound of the town as it started to get busy and he could hear the sounds of morning drills for the order's forces stationed here. He walked down the street passing a group of girls that were about 16. He heard something about "he is cute" and "nice butt". It made him smile he never really got into the whole relationship scene because his whole life was about training.
He soon came to the outside walls of the castle and it was busy there was people everywhere. He didn't want to just shove people so he waited patiently as he slowly made his way threw the crowd. He heard some guys whistling, but didn't see to whom and he really didn't care. He sighed it seemed every step he took he had to take two steps back, because some rude people was just charging threw.
Once he finally got threw he went into the castle and looked around he saw some guards but it seemed abandoned at the moment. "Everyone must be at morning drills" he said to himself. He then started to look around for where he was supposed to meet Alastair the Warlock. He could never figure out how mere people could wield abilities over the elements. It just seemed inhuman to him for people that strong to exist.
He soon wondered down a hall and saw a woman (Janette) as she was waiting outside a door. "Excuse me miss do you know where I can find Alastair the Warlock?" He asked politely not sure if she would respond to him or not.

Janette jolted her head at a voice that was probably talking to her. She then saw a man standing next to her with an unreadable expression on his face. Janette was never one to check men out, because she was busy, but right now, she might as well, so she glanced downwards and examined the man quickly, and then fixated her gaze on the man's eyes. It was quite the sight, but she had seen many better looking men than this one. This one, he wouldn't even be considered a man... just a mere boy, looking for a thrill.
"Right here, in this room, as I've been told. Janette." - she extended her arm to greet him. "Are you here for the applications?" She asked in return, tilting her head slightly.

Jason saw how this woman was looking him over he didn't mind or did he care what she thought. He decided to not check her out because he didn't want to look like he was looking at her like a piece of meat. He then listened to her keeping his expression blank. "I am not applying I was transferred here and got to get registered. My name is Jason" he said as he met her hand in greeting her. He wondered if she was just signing up or if she was like him.
"You must be a student of magic" he said as he looked at her mainly the way she was carrying herself. It gave her away more than she actually knew. He was wanting to ask how one can use magic, but didn't want to ask though. He wasn't wanting a whole history lesson on the magical arts.

Iabor walked the hold halls of the castle, this was the fourth reemergence he knew the castle halls wall. As he'd been down these halls more times then he dared try to count, he walked to Allistair's office with minimal effort navigating through the crowds. As people just bounced off of him when they tried to push past, he would help those that fell from bouncing off him. His long white hair swaying behind him as he walked, it was well groomed and was as white as the freshly fallen snow outside. He soon stopped seeing two people already waiting there, he stopped to lean against the wall near the door where it opened. He didn't really make any attempt to talk to the two, as he didn't wish to interrupt their conversation. He let loose a long tired yawn his helmet made it echo slightly, he hadn't really slept that well before coming back. As he'd had to do some serious maintenance on his armor to make it look brand new which made him burn through the midnight hours.

The last of the Templar recruits fell on the ground with a satisfying *THUD*. Azmun was now the only one standing in the make-shift arena, while 4 Templars were either struggling to stand on all fours all were simply lying on the snowy ground. The daemon was not smiling, in spite of his apparent victory, he wanted more, he wanted something better. "Alright, alright, that's enough." an older Templar with a few gray hairs spoke from the side which made Azmun turn his gaze and mutter "No." he then turned to completely face the trainer "I want more. I want better." That made the old Templar frown and sigh "Forget it Daemon. The purpose of training is exactly that, train. Not to amuse you. Now get moving and let me get back to my job" Azmun could feel rage flowing through him How dares a human speak to me like that?! he thought and nothing would have made him happier than to rip his head off with his bare hands, eat his skull and burn the rest....but he didn't. He couldn't.Must remember the Contract. he recalled and with a long hard breath he calmed his nerves, dropped the blunted swords from his hands, letting them fall on the snowy ground, turned around and left with long, quick strides.

His Contract was clear and dare not break it. Under his human form he didn't look very different from any other Templar, long dark brown hair, a stern and hard face with a bit of a stubble, he even wore some of their hard leather armor and while walking through the training yard he took the liberty of taking a pair of steel longswords and sheathed them on his belt. As he was about to walk away from the weapons rack he was stopped by the voice of another Templar, he sighed, this one will probably start to "scold" him about taking their weapons. He was wrong. This one actually told him something that made him smile "You're one of the Daemons right?" Azmun wasn't exactly sure how they could tell, but it didn't really matter. "You better head inside, the Master of Contracts asks for your presence". Azmun didn't waste any second longer to talk to the lad, he strode right past him and headed inside.

The Daemon was smiling a small grin, if the Master of Contracts was calling for him then he must have a task which means he might get the battle that he craved for all day. Azmun had a hunch where Alastair might be waiting for him so he quickly headed through the hallways of the citadels, pushing his way through the crowd focused on reaching his destination. Eventually he reached the room in question...only to see that he was a bit late as there already were 3 other people standing there. One he recognized one, Iabor, his helm and long white hair were unique to him and hard to miss, but the other two were new faces to him, just 2 humans. Azmun sighed deeply and then approached the 'white knight' with a tap on his shoulder "I assume I'm not the only one called here for duty then? Any idea what this is about?" Azmun was still grinning, he prayed for battle,

Iabor was half way to falling asleep when he felt a tapping on his shoulder, making him rouse to look at the man with dark brown hair. A man he knew well as Azmun, the demon of destruction. He had seen the daemon around often training the rookie templars, he had often thought of challenging the daemon to a friendly spar. Though each time decided against it, as he thought of the possible mass destruction of property the two would cause.
"Yeah though I can't let you have all the fun with whatever it is..... Yeah I have no idea why we're here, though you know the deal with Allistair. When he calls you come," Iabor said chuckling lightly.
He looked towards the others, he hadn't seen them around before now. Which was odd seeing as he knew just about everyone that worked in the castle.
"Hey Azmun have you seen those two around before," He asked motioning his head towards Jannette, and Jason.

Herunes overhears a conversation from behind one of the doors, he senses the presence of two humans and two daemons. He recognised none of them, he sighed and closed his book, the dust showed how old it was as it fired up into the air. He leaves it on the table and slides the chair out whilst standing up.

He takes another deep breath, and goes to the door to open it. He is soon greeted with two young humans, a woman and a man. Then there were the two daemons at the back, he recognised them both now. Although he made no obvious note of this, he just smiled at them all.

'You can come in, Alaistar is expecting us...' he then walks back to his seat, 'You know... you all could have just walked in...' He sits back down and gets back to his book, returning to his silence. He flicks through the pages and gives of a little chuckle...

"Make yourself comfortable Herunes." Alastair ran his finger over the thick book before him, sliding away the lock and opening the pages. It was the log of every contract ever recorded in the order. The book itself seethed with the magic of decades of warlock power. A powerful ward had been placed upon it, one that only the Keeper of Contracts knew the password for. No one could hope to tamper with this book without invoking an untimely end. "We should have a few others joining us shortly, I wonder where they have all gotten to..." Alastair flicked his wrist and shut the book tight before leaning back in his oak chair. He stroked at an invisible beard upon his mask and then looked over to the door. Even with a mask on he was obviously not enjoying the cold breeze the now open doorway brought into a room that was bellow ground. Only the lamps and the small slither of window at the top of the walls behind him gave any light in an otherwise freezing meeting chamber. "And close that door behind you!"

"Strike! ...Parry! ...Advance! ...Pirrouette! ...Thrust!..." Xai'an called out commands to the young warriors she had been authorized to train in the basics of largescale warfare. The Order, it seemed, was clever enough to use demonic forces to it's every advantage. In training the squires, Xai'an was overseen by several ranking Templars who looked on from above, ready to intercede should she attempt anything beyond the call of proper instuction in form or strategy. Pragmatic as The Order was, they weren't fools. At least not at this stage. From what the Daemon had gathered, they were not always so clever. Fortunately for them, they had learned much of how to handle and interact with Daemons. "...Parry! Riposte! Tumble! Shield Retreat! ...Hold! Swords in sheaths, all of you."

She had put them through their paces for over three hours now. It was time for pactical application.

"Giles of Westenbury, Leanna of Sindra, to the front!" The Templars to be ran forward in full weighted training armor.

"HOLD!" Echoed the command from one of the Templar overseers above. "Lord Everet will continue this lesson! Instructor, the Grand Warlock requires your presence at once!"

Xai'an bowed and gave an affirmative signal to the overseers. She then looked over the uncertain students, amused at the nature of battle and the psychology of mortals. She would wager that Lord Everet might learn more from these young ones than they would from him.

"Giles and Leanna, stay at the front. I'm sure Everet would appreciate your assistance." In truth, she was sure he would resent the implication. Yet she was still within the bounds of her orders. She was training these ragged youths to be proper warriors. And it would be important for them to learn how to recognize incompetence in their commanding officers.

Azmun glanced at the two humans Iabor pointed out to him. Only after a brief look he returned his gaze to the white knight "Never seen them around here before...and I've been around for quite a while." Azmun was contracted a few years ago, though it was not the first time. He was summoned plenty of times before, sometimes for revenge, other times for defense but every time he was summoned for war and battle and couldn't care less about the context. This time was no exception and he has long gotten used to remain under the power of the Contract for so long. He still recalled how he was Contracted into the service he is now as well as the conditions of his Contract. Though he considered them a bit excessive he supposed they were necessary, humans can be quite squishy and easy to burn sometimes. Azmun chuckled lightly to himself and glanced once more in the direction of those two humans. He took a quick breath through his nose and then muttered "Green" he then turned his gaze back at Iabor "I doubt they've ever been in a real live battle. Those two ought to be so green they probably piss grass." A small wicked grin then made its presence known on his face "I'm actually a bit curious to see how they would do if say...someone were to behave..." he placed one hand on the pommel of one of his sheathed swords "..unfriendly.." he finished hinting to a malicious intention.

Azumn waited a few seconds just to see Iado's reaction before he chuckled lightly "Just kidding. Relax, my Contract doesn't permit me to kill..or even grievously harm others while in these Headquarters...unless ordered to, of course." Both their attentions shifted to the door to the room suddenly opening, behind they saw Herunes, another daemon Azmun was familiar with. He respected him, but didn't care much for his mind tricks or his sense of fashion, why wear something unless it helps you fight better? It just didn't make sense to him. Regardless, it isn't his place to judge and chose which of his brethren come into service. His role is to kill and is happy with that. The group of people soon passed through the door and one could hear Alastair's shout of closing the door. Azumn shut the door behind him as he was the last one to enter. Each of the people soon found themselves seats at the large table and so did Azmun, seating himself between Iabor and an empty seat. The daemon then looked at the Master of Contracts, So this is one of the big-shots around here huh? an obviously old man in fancy robes with a mask, not very intimidating if judged by appearance but to those with the senses to feel it, he was just oozing with the magical energies of a powerful Warlock. Not bad... Azmun ultimately judged.

After a few moments of silent wait, Azmun sighed and spoke up "I assume we are still waiting for someone to arrive?" he said as he glanced over the empty seats around.

"A few more of for this task, but I shall begin briefing you and fill them in as they arrive..." Alastair kept himself in a casual manor. He was old and permitted such privileges. It was that of risk irritating the most powerful member of the Warlock circle. Not a wise thing to do in any given situation. His hand motioned over the table, a breeze blowing the papers on the desk to each of the men and women seated. He spoke over any of the questions and mumbling between the group, wishing to be done with this briefing and permitted to get back to his daily work. The winter months meant he had to over see many of the supplies and be sure no one was pilfering. It happened, even in the order, and was something that he disciplined sharply during such cold days. Rationing was serious business for the Order during war, and the land had seen plenty of it over the decades.

"As some of you may have heard, Jarlmach has mustered its armies at the border of Gjern, the trading capital of the East. The treaty we have overseen there has been tenuous at best and we can not afford to have another king grow hungry for power. With much of our Order to the north we have lost sway..." Alastair paused and stood to grab a large parchment on the book shelf behind him, giving a groan of old age arthritis before shuffling back to the table and unfurling an old map. Gjern was just a large black blob resembling a city wall and a few houses inked within, but its position near the great lake of Ustergraht meant not only did it supply all trade from the local provinces, it linked the East directly to the main roads leading to the northern kingdoms. It was a lynch pin of a city, always sort after by those who intended to invade the north. "Gjern may not be as grand as it once was but its military importance over the Ustergraht river is significant beyond words. There are no other safe crossings for miles and miles, and the dangerous currents make any attempt by boat a nightmare. You must convince the King to explain himself and turn back. If he does not..." Alastair sat back in his seat and took a deep breath. "...then you must do so by force."

The Citadel, what a wondrous place filled to the brim with beating hearts and panted breaths. Malvo sat at an old wooden desk stained and worn with age on it laid a small raven laying completely still save for the slightest movements of its breast, it was obviously dying. Malvo passed his gloved hand over the bird which gave a choked caw and kicked a few times before righting itself. "Pretty little thing" Malvo murmured in his low cool voice as he scratched it on the back of its head. "Come along sweetie, we must be off" he said as he stood and the little raven flew up and perched on the edge of the broad rim of his hat. Malvo gave his room one last look over, The walls were lined with holes where his ravens made their nests, even now several pairs of their uniquely intelligent eyes stared back at him watching and listening. Ravens were the only things that would willingly be near him for any amount of time and he enjoyed the company but he was needed elsewhere and so he would go.

The Templar outside of his room kept his distance from Malvo pressing against the wall to maximize the separation between them. "The Order calls for you Daemon" he said "You must answer." Malvo nodded to the Templar who turned and began to lead him through the halls to where he was needed. When they cut through the main hall he was given a wide berth, many had heard of what he had been capable of and they feared contracting something from him. If only Malvo thought as they cut through the crowd but alas the contract forbids me granting my gifts freely. Finally the Templar guided him to a door and stopped "This is as far as I have you" he told Malvo a little relief in his voice. "I bid you good day and good health" Malvo said giving a bow to the Templar who looked confused at the Daemons parting words. Malvo strode into the room and made his way to his chair quitely. He was a little confused at the presence of so many others and decided it would be best to wait to hear from Alastair himself. Malvo took his customary seat as far from everybody else at the table as space could allow and reached into a pocket in his robes and took out some breadcrumbs which he fed to Little One who pecked at them with great delight.

Iabor raised a brow at Azmun when he set his hand on his swords, he knew what the contracts meant for Daemons. So he didn't make any move for his own weapon on his back, seeing as he'd just make an ass out of himself. Instead he withdrew himself, and laughed at Azmun's comment about Janette, and Jason pissing green. When Allistair told them to come in he did so immediatly not wishing to waste the elders time. Though he looked at the mind daemon with a great look of distrust, as he personally felt those that could tamper with ones mind were not to be trusted; Whether they were under contract or not. He quickly took a seat in between three empty seats slightly sitting back, and listening to the elders words.

He soon asked," Alistair are you suggesting death, if the king is unwilling to back down, or explain himself?"

He wished to know just how much force they were to use on the king of Jelmarch, as he didn't wish to see a land without it's leader. As that would leave the city in a state of great turmoil, something else that the order could not afford. His thoughts then turned to the land of Gjern, as he'd been to it once in it's heyday he'd found it to be a bustling city with life with great trade, and found himself quite the fortune then selling some of his armors, and trinkets. As he never made swords or weapons for anyone, but those that worked with the order. Though he used some of that fortune to obtain better metals, and make better weapons for the templar that truly needed them. While the rest he set aside in case of emergency. When he saw a funny little man known as Malvo walk in his brow raised in interest, his eyes soon wandering to the crow.

Jason had ignored the daemons and especially when the one said he was so green his piss was green. He wasn't knew to combat at all or ridicule for his age. He just went into the room when they were told and sat in the first seat he found. He then listened to everything that was said and asked still being silent. He figured the others will have the same questions as him and ask them. Though one question did arise why did they need us humans? They have plenty of daemons he looked around a little uneasy as he knew this wasn't going to be fun. A king has an army to guard them and he knew if they were hostile then they will attack.

He started to sheath and unsheathe his sword just barely it was a little tick he had when he was feeling nervous like he was right now. He then saw Malvo come in it just made his nerves that much worse. why so many? He asked himself he knew of at least 4 daemons. The man in armor and has white hair he didn't know if he was a daemon or human at this point.

A king who has grown hungry for more power.... interesting Herunes has seen many people destroyed by their un-sated thirst of power and control. On the very few occasions, even Herunes finds himself compelled to follow such seductive desires.

Herunes places the book to the side keeping it open and reads over the paper. He looks around him analysing those in the room, he felt as he may as well pay them some modest attention if he is to be working with them. Perhaps find an ally among them... though that was stretching it. 'This gathering of people must mean it is quite a serious task indeed. And you say more are to arrive?' He leans back on his chair and chuckles 'Has the order gotten so desperate that they need such a collection of minds working together?'

Herunes ignored the concept of negotiate or kill. He understood that very well and had little caring for either outcome, he was here for the enjoyment of the events. The souls rewarded being only the bonus...

In a sudden strike of interest he turns to the young templar whom name he doesn't know, his young yet almost expressionless look is quite amusing... 'What's the matter templar, don't you care to show at least a little bit of emotion to us all? Trying to make yourself seem unbreakable...' Herunes grins 'Only leaves yourself with no-one to trust you...' Trust is something that not many people share for Herunes. He has preferred it that way as well... He then slides out a book mark from one of his pockets and slides it on the book and closes it gently, followed be putting the book back into his coat. 'Perhaps we should all get to know one another... it may well prove useful for when we...' He chuckles 'Work together.'

Azmun swiftly took the paper that the old Warlock handed him and looked it over, paying more attention to Alastair's debriefing of the mission. He grinned. There was clearly to be a battle ahead in this mission and Azmun for one was eager to get it started, he was looking for a real actual battle for days now. His attention shifted to the door behind him as he saw yet another daemon pass through it and take a seat at the table, as far away from anyone else as it permitted. This one was known as Malvo, a demon of pestilence. Azumn didn't care much for Malvo's ways of spreading disease and infections though he did admit that while it unsavory it may be quite effective. He looked around the room and started counting, 2, 3, 5 and 6 with him. There were 6 of them to be sent in this mission, 4 of them daemons and he had a feeling that this was not everybody. That just made him wonder if the task was truly so crucial or if the battle to come would be that great? The later would be rather welcoming he ultimately judged. Iabor was the first to speak out after the debriefing, apparently he would be aiming to complete this task with as few bloodshed as possible. How noble... Azmun knew better than to believe that this can actually be resolved peacefully. This king knows damn well what he is doing and its very unlikely that he will change his mind. Killing the king and removing the army by force is the easiest and simplest of solutions.

Aye, ser. Death Azmun answered to Iabor's earlier question If negotiations fail, and trust me they do so more often than not, then we simply remove both the king and his troops from the city by force.. He grinned ..Deadly force He finished with a brief chuckle. If it were up to him, they wouldn't be wasting time trying to talk to this power-hungry human, but ultimately its not his decision. If in the end it is decided that they should try and resolve this peacefully then so be it Let them try. It will come to blood, steel and flame either way. Some things never change and war is one of them. Herunes then spoke out, pointing out their numbers and wondering how come the Order is willing to send so many for this task. Azumn simply shrugged to that. He didn't knew but didn't much care either. Whatever the Order's plans were he was simply eager to leave these headquarters and bloody his blade. His Contract must be fulfilled after all, the sooner the better. Herunes then suggested that they know a little more about each other if they are to go on the field together. Azumn grinned and concurred "Aye, agreed. We should start with the newcomers" he said briefly indicating towards Jason and Janette "I have been around here for quite a long time and have never seen you before. Introductions would be nice, I'd like to know who's going to have my back on the battlefield when it comes to that"

The Citadel always somehow gave the impression of being busy and crowded, even with so many of the Order away on duty. Something about winter always seemed to draw mortals closer together, as if for more than just warmth. Xai'an walked through these lively halls amused by the. Endless echoes of posturing, gossiping, boasting and questioning.

When she finally entered the room a Deamon, whom she'd never worked with but had seen aroun the great building, was speaking. "-like to know who's going to have my back on the battlefield when it comes to that"

"Xai'an, of the Chiroi who haunt the lightless depths, for one." She responded as she entered. Her posture was all business and she could easily have been described by proud and stern from her voice and her walk. Although most mortal men would have given more focus to her body itself, those same men would have shuddered at their own thoughts had they seen what she truly looked like.

She looked over the others in attendence as she walked to a seat close to the Grand Warlock. Malvo she knew by reputation. Herunes she had interacted with within the Citadel itself on occasion. The others were all strangers to her.