Mughuk flicks the reins of his trustee steed, Delsa. Her hide is as stubborn and rough as the barren ground she threads. Claws, grown long from months of neglect swipe and scratch as she clambers on towards the hideout. The bloodstained mithril armour saddled across and around her back and chest weigh on her. And so do the five-foot long twin scimitars sheathed beside Mughuk’s proof of hunt and so it couldn’t be helped that he was forced to cut the little engagement with that demon short.
His [Swak] companion swaying and belching puss, acid and bile a foot from him was right— they’d more than accomplished what they set out to do in their hunt. It's good to be satisfied with what you have and returning with proof that their Noble troupe has the bite to match their bark is plenty.
Still, Mughuk felt that that demon was set to his path as sign of approval, that what he’s doing, what he’s going to do is the right thing. He wishes he could’ve taken her, but of course, there’s no time to explain how much is at stake and as his companion knew to be cautious of her, so did Mughuk, all too well even.
Lavinia.
Her mind was an open book to him with even the barest pressure of his [Telepathy]. It was amusing to hear her think so loud and have so little fear of a fight breaking out. She didn’t even believe for once that she’d fail to kill either himself or his [Swak] companion, she merely lamented the waste of Essence it would be to do so only to escape— she hates running.
Mughuk chuckles to himself and turns an eye to his lazy companion. The [Swak] was right to avoid her, Lavinia, but his true interest lie in his own self-preservation. Perhaps he sensed Lavinia’s strength as Mughuk did and decided he didn’t want to make that bet, after all, if she is to have any success killing either of them, he would be the obvious first victim.
She could be well capable of hurting him as well. The hunt and the surprises along the way drained Mughuk of precious Essence that was certainly well spent given what they return with. However, if a fight between Lavinia and them broke out, he’d be putting Delsa on the line as well one way or another and he loathes to push her so far. Yes, it was good to withdraw but how he wishes more of her mind were open to him because the little he glimpsed made him crave her.
He imagines it, a demon so strong that even with her mysterious ‘handicap’ still believes herself strong enough to defeat and escape him. She is a demon of Noble strength and ought to be his his companion.
It would be perfect. If Mughuk could salivate he would as more and more he felt that Lavinia happening in front of him was a sign from Reais itself. The accursed Realm sometimes offered boons and this could very well be one of them. It is unfortunate though, he already has the [Swak] at his side and their agreements to fight together and share the rewards can’t turn null and void now that they’ve discovered what’s happening in the forest. In fact, with their returning cargo it’s important that the [Swak] remain at his side and offer what meagre support his voice is worth to the rest of the Noble Troupe. With them on his side, he can slowly convince or if necessary, force the Noble General to get off his laurels and do something for once.
Replacing the [Swak] will have to wait and it can, after all, until Mughuk had set his eyes on Lavinia his plans to rise in glory were but the gradual plotting’s every demon has. Except he intended to follow through and succeed, of course. Fortunately, finding Lavinia again will not be difficult to accomplish. Her thoughts blazed with her destination, Corym, and her need to return. Mughuk resists another chuckle but fails, drawing his slimy companion’s attention with his haunting cackle.
“Hrrnn, are you sure about this, Mughuk?” he says, voice dripping with cowardice, “You know how he’s going to react.”
It wasn’t the cowardice that drained the mirth from Mughuk’s shadowy form, but the repetitive nature of it. For all his worth, his companion has never stood fearless in the face of adversity, if he has his way they’d never hunt anything and simple live their immortal lives burning away ambient Essence. He fails to have even the slightest ambition to hunt or even follow up. One time on a hunt, Mughuk saw him let their prey escape because he couldn’t be bothered putting in the extra effort, not even for its Essence.
Mughuk muses in a short silence. Essence is the problem. Not all demons consume or use it the same way after all. In a way Mughuk had brought this upon himself, he had chosen the [Swak] as his companion because he possesses a lower Essence consumption than himself and he believed that would be worth something in the end but alas. The crystals I give are wasted on him!
Before he can get more incensed, Mughuk answers, “You’ll see.”
He considers the little fact that a demon as brave and battle ready as Lavinia will enjoy a higher Essence consumption than others, perhaps even higher than his. If she is to be a part of Mughuk’s rapid rise to power over these lands, then he must remain cautious of her. She might have plans of conquering Corym, though he didn’t sense any bloodlust in her thoughts, a demon like that never roams aimlessly. She will have a goal.
Let’s hope we aren’t heading for the same throne then.
As Mughuk and his companion approach the hillside he sets aside his mutinous thoughts and guards his mind with [Psychic Resistance], there are very few secrets left secrets within a troupe of telepathic demons and his must be one of them. Mughuk’s Noble General, Circe, doesn’t tolerate mutiny but he expects it of every one of his demons, Mughuk included. He’s felt the General’s attention fall on him multiple times over the months since he joined the troupe and what he’s about to do will ensure his eyes never leave him.
But that’s alright, I’ve got a sign from Reais itself.
Mughuk allows himself another soft chuckle as Delsa finds the hidden entrance at the base of the hill. A flare of his Essence breaks the feeble illusion momentarily and allows her to lift the metal grate covering the tunnel to their hideout underneath the hill. Delsa tucks her feet and curls her tail as she squeezes into the slanting tunnel, peering down into it is all darkness but they’ve taken this path enough times that it’s become familiar to her.
With a steady heave of her hind legs Delsa and Mughuk slide down the tunnel, consumed by the darkness until a faint orange lighting illuminates their descent. A soft pillow of dirt and leaves cushions Delsa’s landing at a wide cavernous system lit up by jars of DazzleFlies dangling off stalactite. She scratches her feet clean and huffs to the basin of water waiting off at the side as Mughuk dismounts.
He siphons Essence into a solid manifestation of his corpse hand and pets his trustee steed as she laps up the refreshment. Mughuk glances further down the cavern where the heart of the hideout sits in a large pocket of cratered earth he never thought a hill would have hidden underneath it. Large enough to house multiple Delsa-sized mounts with room to roam, as well as a host of demons and monsters serving at the Noble Generals behest. All housed and taken care of within the underground cratered city
Mughuk scowls down as shadows begin to approach and his [Swak] companion slides down the tunnel behind him. He's tailored reactions based on which of the troupe's demons come to greet and inspect him. With any luck they’ll be minion Pinks incapable of much else aside following barked orders. The last faces he wants to see are those of the Noble General’s aides, tall, vicious and greedy demons that have taken more than their fair share from Mughuk’s previous hunts and act as the General’s whips.
While Mughuk isn’t worried about the measure of his hunt— the bounty they’ve returned with alone is enough to grant he and Delsa weeks of peace underneath the hill—it’s another thing if the aides are the first to discover a part of that bounty comes from Corym’s demons.
“Are you ready?” His [Swak] companion asks as he struggles to dismount his fat from the poor beast panting beneath him. He pats it and doesn’t waste anytime unravelling the bonds of his hunt— a load of monsters and a few Pink tier demons.
“Are you?” Mughuk throws the query back, narrowing his eyes down at the steep growing with shadows.
“No, but you’re obviously the mind behind this. You take the fall.” He says with a slimy smile, reminding Mughuk yet again of how dependable he is.
“There’s nothing to be so afraid of.”
“Except Circe.”
“Circe will have no choice once he hears what we have to say. What I have to say.” The tension in Mughuk’s mind eases up a bit when the two shadows creeping up towards them turns out to be neither Circe’s aides or a pair of Pinks and instead a pair of strong Crimsons of the main troupe like he and the [Swak] are.
Delsa moans and nudges him with her snout— or at least attempts to as her nose pierces through his immaterial body— she senses him better than any demon here and he doubts she wields a power like [Telepathy]. Reassuring her with a head pat, Mughuk turns his full attention to the approaching demons. One of the two waves a bony, skeletal hand over and opens her mind as she speaks even as she's yet to reach them.
“Welcome back, Mughuk, Acas.” Her voice rings in their heads.
“Good to be back, Serin.” Acas, the [Swak] answers with a wave as he spreads out his haul from the hunt. “It’s been an…eventful hunt.”
“You can tell us all about it, and give us a bite here and there of course, for the road.” Serin, the [Hezzura] says with an unnerving grin as she and her partner approach. Her skull is engulfed in a tame emerald flame, one that travels down her spine to her hip and ties across in a belt of fire around her bony waist. Her bleached bones are covered by sparse layers of flesh and thin skin pulled over an absent muscles and fat. As a demon she’s closer to a humanoid being that’s undergoing rapid degeneration rather than any unique demonic creature like Acas, the [Swak] or even her partner, Hargoil.
Hargoil, the [Lardoa] drags his feet a pace behind her, all four hands clasped behind a large shell of a back as he levels a detached gaze at all around him. Despite his sluggish form Hargoil stands as the oldest Crimson, no, the oldest demon within the hideout period. And that includes the Noble General. According to rumours from other ancient members of the troupe, the four-armed, beetle-demon warrior hails from an entirely different layer of Reais, one older and fiercer than this. Whatever reason he’s lived so long and yet advanced so little as a demon is beyond Mughuk but his stories of ages past entertain Circe, their Noble General enough that he’s called upon often and so he might as well be an aide.
Mughuk narrows at his silent approach all while greeting Serin, “You can have some, of course, but you’ve got to promise to listen to what I have to say.”
His cryptic greetings alone cause Serin to double her pace up the steep, “What have you done this time, Mughuk.”
“You say that like I’m a troublemaker.”
“Aren’t you?”
His mind recalls a couple of times that might warrant him such a status but Mughuk waves the slideshow of chaos away and with cheer says, “Don’t worry, there’s nothing but reward to be had from this, I promise.”
Serin and Hargoil reach the end of the slope and stand before Mughuk and his hunt. Serin, a Crimson wielding a wealth of Essence much greater than he stands taller than even Delsa on her two skeletal feet. She and the ancient beetle demon, Hargoil are one of the few members of the troupe that can do without a mount to traverse and hunt. Even with Mughuk’s natural intangibility, the duo make a team to be wary of, especially Hargoil. There’s no telling what power an ancient like him is truly capable of and he's far too comfortable with Circe.
In the dazzling orange lighting Serin finds what Mughuk promises isn’t trouble and sneers, “You know better. The both of you!” Her flaming skull rages from emerald to seething blue.
“Exactly what I told him, Serin!” Acas quickly throws him under without even a hint of shame or remorse seeping from his porous mind.
Mughuk restrains a sneer of his own, managing his mood around telepathic demons in this situation is imperative. “Hear me out first. Acas said it was eventful and it was, I’ll tell you why if you give me a chance.”
For a moment her visage is nothing but bright flame but like he, she calms herself and says with resignation, “Circe will turn you to coal.”
If its him…that might be possible.
“Maybe but these weren’t stray finds, Serin. Acas and I didn’t stumble on a loose Trirax out of their pen or some foraging Caldri. These are fighters and before we killed them they were fighting Kimpe.”
“What?” It’s Hargoil that speaks. He steps out of Serin’s shadow and leans forward, impressing himself against Acas and Mughuk and asks, “Corym is…fighting itself?”
What’s with that reaction?
“Yes, they are. They’ve got goblins on one side and some other specie of demons on the other, though those aren’t exactly the best fighters.” Mughuk says, recalling the utter vulnerability of the [Simak] fighting under the [Kimpe]. “Whatever has happened to Corym, they’ve splintered. The Stelc no longer patrols, it stands in place among the bushes with the Trirax, not even protecting them just…standing there. There won’t be another moment like this for centuries. We have to make the best of it now, so what do you say, Serin, Hargoil? Join me for the feast?”
There, he said it. He’s spoken the first words of his greed for Corym’s heart of Essence and called other demons in with him. Mughuk searches behind Serin and Hargoil for any other encroaching or listening demons but there’s none to be found. Calmed, he studies their reactions. Serin still assumes an unshaken visage, like she hadn’t just been invited to the hunt of the century and Hargoil is still contemplative, muttering something under his breath as he paces behind Serin.
Mughuk resists the urge to growl at their attitudes and adds, “If you aren’t interested the others surely will. Come Delsa, let’s show off our bounty.”
“It’s not about that.” Serin says, breaking her impassive silence in a whisper, “It’s still about Circe. What use is the hunt if Circe still reduces us to soot?”
This is exactly the question Mughuk’s been waiting for. He suppresses a smile as he answers, “Avoiding tribute to Circe is insane, Serin, I hope you’re not suggesting that. All we need to do is show this proof, that Corym is open for us, the table is set and all demons of the troupe are invited. Circe will not be denied his tribute and we will not be denied Essence. It's only fair.”
She scoffs, “That’s easy to say while standing at the edge of the exit.”
Mughuk shrugs and hovers closer, “Yes, but you understand why I must behave like this. If Circe finds out before the troupe then…he might just sweep this under the rug like before.”
“Or keep it all for himself.” It’s Hargoil that speaks, his eyes wear a resolute gaze that sends a shiver of excitement through Mughuk. “I will tell the rest of the troupe and gather them here to see for themselves.”
He leaves without another word. If Mughuk’s shadow form could grin without looking terrorizing he’d be split ear to ear. There couldn’t be a more perfect turn of events. Soon, they’ll gather and pressure Circe to lift the ban on raiding Corym and then…then the next phase of his plan will begin.
