Asmodean

He regards the small congregation of dragons that came unannounced to his villa with something akin to mild interest. After all, it is not often that the Empress of Aeos, herself, pays anyone a house call. Her constant shadow, and the captain of the First Guard, stands a few feet behind her, ready to protect his mistress at a moment's notice. But Riordan is the sole armed escort for this meeting. Even Tethrax, the Empress' most trusted strategist, has no knowledge of its existence. It is a secret only the group in this room are aware of. His own bodyguard, Silas, often referred to as the Revenant King, stands silent and watchful, undead eyes staring unblinkingly at Riordan.

The tension in the room is palpable.

The Empress returns his multi-eyed gaze with a thoughtful one of her own. This is the first time that Eris has come face to face with the enigmatic, half-demon necromancer that many in Aeos fear. Clad in red and black, draped in tasteful jewels, with sculpted, patrician features and multiple calculating eyes, Asmodean is an unsettling presence. Eris studies him intently, trying to gain his measure. She's heard that he is powerful in magic, and can raise an army of the undead if he so desired, and that he has lived for centuries and that no one knows his true age. She does not know whether there is truth in any of these stories, but with each passing second, it seems they are becoming entirely believable.

He is a wild card, occasionally lending his support to her causes when it suits him, or sometimes sabotaging their efforts, though in those cases, there was insufficient evidence to prove his involvement. Often though, they leave each other alone, and so far, none of their plans have clashed with the other's. But Asmodean is unpredictable, his motivations entirely unknown to her, and that makes her wary.

At last, he breaks the silence. "To what do I owe the honor of having three illustrious ladies, the Oracle, the Starless Sorceress, and the Empress Eris, herself, come into my humble home?"

Ysanne, the Oracle, steps forward. "I have had a vision and it concerns the well-being of the imperial strategist, Tethrax."

"You mean his slow descent into madness?" Asmodean's calm voice never changes. Ysanne, Yula and Eris exchange glances. They have no idea how Asmodean knows. Tethrax's condition is a well-guarded secret.

"Yes," Yula, the Starless Sorceress, and the head of the mage guild, confirms. "His condition has worsened these past two weeks quite dramatically, almost immediately after Ysanne received her vision."

"And what was in this vision?"

Ysanne answers. "Unfortunately, it was one of my more vague ones. It was a kaleidoscope of emotions, of terrible foreboding, but you were at the center of it. That is why we have come."

"How unreliable." The necromancer murmurs. "And you think I am somehow triggering his madness?"

"You tell us." Eris, who had been silent all this time, finally speaks.

Asmodean folds his claws together, looking amused. "No outright accusations then?"

Eris' green eyes flash. "Give me a reason and I will storm you down." The air grows heavy as Yula gathers magic while Riordan halfway unsheathes his sword. Silas merely cocks his head towards his master.

Asmodean smirks. "You threaten me in my own home, Empress? I did not take you for a fool. But," — he holds a hand up before the situation can escalate— "I can tell you right now that I have no interest in the imperial strategist and am not behind his mental problems. However, I believe I know its cause."

"What is the price of this information?" Yula asks when Asmodean falls silent.

"As a token of my goodwill towards the Empress, nothing, of course," the necromancer replies smoothly, as if expecting the question. "The cause of the strategist's condition is the demon responsible for corrupting his mind in the first place. The demon is here, in Aeos."

An audible gasp escapes both Ysanne and Eris. "You need to hunt him down, Empress, before the strategist breaks down completely. I believe the witch-priestess Cydaea, may be of further assistance."

Eris nods. "You have my sincerest gratitude, Asmodean."

The necromancer waits until they have almost left before murmuring to himself. "You are most welcome, Empress. And I will enjoy collecting my favor soon enough."



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