“Be humble in the night, little demon. The darkness you love cherishes him above you, and shall spurn you in his presence.

Be shamed by your trifling power, little demon. He would bathe in it as a tepid spring and turn it back upon you with disdain.

Be not vulgar to his family, little demon. The hells shall offer no harbor if you make of them an enemy.

Be admonished and afraid, little demon. For we are but the nightmares of men, and he stalks our dreams.”

-From ‘We Little Demons’ by Grand Overfiend X’lyssa

“Oh noo! Oh this is bad! Very bad!” Pinthalak the imp was having a terrible day.

He had been sent to find out what was taking two different raiding groups so long to return. The Blackfang gnolls and Doomhowl’s pack had both missed their calls to pay tribute to The Warlord, and Pinthalak had been sent to investigate. Early that morning, he had located the partially frozen remains of the gnoll band. They had been defeated in such a horrifying manner that Pinthalak believed it to be the work of at least an A-ranked ice mage. He was hoping to find better news regarding Doomhowl’s pack when he found the farmhouse.

His solid yellow eyes widened in astonishment as he looked upon the barn. It was as though a vengeful god had slashed it with fire from the heavens. Each new moonwolf body he discovered raised his alarm level higher. The bisected female, the cleanly dispatched sentry, and finally the alpha... It was too gruesome, even for a being from a plane where torture was as common as conversation. The formidable alpha had been toyed with, dismembered while alive, and finally decapitated.

This resembled the work of a very high level party, but the footprints were all wrong and indicated a single killer. There was a light set of tracks where the sentry was killed, and then those tracks appeared to change into a much larger, and heavier set which not only sank deep into the dirt but left blackened and scorched boot prints. The being that destroyed the barn and killed the alpha would have to be as large as an ogre and oh so many times mightier.

A sudden realization hit Pinthalak and he had to fight the urge to flee this world, back to the stinking hells if need be. There were only a handful of beings that could inflict such a variety of damage on that scale and Pinthalak had no interest in encountering any one of them.

He must warn The Warlord! If one of those had its sights set on purging this area then he must advise his master to flee. If he refused, Pinthalak might just banish himself back to the hells. He could sell his true name to one stronger than The Warlord and the consequences be damned.

He flew through the trees weaving and flapping as adeptly as a bird as he made all haste toward the tall mountains where The Warlord and his horde resided.

The black imp invoked his innate invisibility skill as he approached the jagged wall of lashed together timber which marked the edge of The Warlord’s semi-permanent camp. The alert orc sentries, green skinned brutes that resembled a cross between pig and gorilla didn’t so much as blink as he passed unnoticed between them. Pinthalak had no time for useless protocol.

He passed hundreds of other monsters as he sped through the tent city. Spindle armed and pot bellied goblins were by far the most common. Gnolls and orcs combined roughly equaled the goblin population. There were also a dozen or so ogres, and even a few humongous hill giants lazing about while bellowing orders at the goblins for this or that. The law was simple here: might makes right.

A second wall came into view then, this one encircling the only solid building in the camp. It was a long and tall crude cabin made from notched pine logs dragged from the other side of the mountains where tall evergreens were more prominent.

An armored giant more than twenty feet in height stood before the entrance which only came up to his waist. The door behind him was a crudely stitched together patchwork of animal hides.

The mountain giant named Yugal was the warlord’s favorite pet and second in command of the horde. Pinthalak revealed himself as he flapped closer. The giant nodded and stood aside quietly, the monster rarely ever spoke. He preferred to let his tree trunk sized cudgel do the talking. Pinthalak skirted past the stalagmite legs, feeling the overwhelming power Yugul exuded and braced himself for the far more intense pressure of the beast within.

A rush of sounds and smells rolled over Pinthalak as he entered the huge hall. Bestial grunts, giggles, moans, and occasional screams of pain mingled with the smell of sweat and intercourse. The hall was practically carpeted with the most beautiful women captured by the horde; a writhing sea of flesh with one monstrous form at its center. They were all under the drug like effect of The Warlord’s beguiling magic and offered no resistance to his constant and violent advances. When not in battle, sleeping or eating, The Warlord could be found here among his spoils. Gold, kegs of wine, weapons, armor, furs, and attractive females of a variety of species were piled high like the hoard of a dragon.

He must have sensed Pinthalak, for he stood suddenly. The elf woman he had been engaged with stuck to him for just a moment before falling to the floor limp and exhausted at his feet. He strode forward, knocking aside any of the naked slaves that weren’t quick enough to scramble away. He towered over Pinthalak, unashamed of his nudity.

Pinthalak averted his gaze, not needing to be reminded of the formidable demon’s appearance. The Warlord, who allowed no name for himself beyond that title was a demon beast from the lower planes known as a Gorgothan. He stood seven feet tall, with the head, fur, and antlers of a white bull elk. Rapier length black spines grew from the back of his thick neck and down his wide back. His arms and legs were bulging with steel corded muscles beneath the dense fur. Seven clawed fingers adorned each hand, and his legs ended in black cloven hooves. He looked like a giant unholy cross between human, bull elk, and porcupine.

He was an upper middle class demon, just below the lowest noble class. Physically he was as powerful as Yugal, and had access to deadly innate magic not found on this plane.

Thanks to a weak willed (now devoured) summoner, The Warlord had freely rampaged through the wilds of the northern continent over the past several months, sacking villages and gathering his horde as he traveled.

In spite of his bestial appearance and appetites, The Warlord was intelligent and cunning. His grating baritone rolled past his jutting blood stained tusks even as his eyes, which could only be described as windows to the hells glared down.

“Speak Pinthalak. You need not be reserved. I am sated and will not devour you this day if you bear ill tidings.”

Pinthalak shuddered. The Warlord had a habit of eating him when displeased before summoning him back from the hells just days later. The Warlord knew his true name and thus could summon him specifically at any time, dominating him through sheer potency of will.

“My master! They’re all dead, frozen and burned! Slashed, ripped, and shattered! We must flee, it must be one of the Crus-” Pinthalak was cut off by an interrupting roar that caused him to fall to his knees.

“Do not say the word!” Bellowed The Warlord. “All dead!?” He pressed louder still. “What else, Pinthalak?” The deep voice dropped to a purr. “Surely you didn’t flee all the way back here before learning anything more about my broken toys...”

“M-master, I thought-” Pinthalak was cut off by another roared word.

“Thought!” The Warlord boomed. “Yugal!” The Warlord roared over Pinthalak’s cowering form. The giant crouched down and peeked its huge and wide featured face into the hall expectantly.

“Take the ogres and go to that village on the river. Take the women, gold, and food. Smash and burn everything else! After that, march to the city on the lake, I will join you there in three days.” The Warlord barked before lowering his eyes back to Pinthalak. “The time for pecking and prodding has expired. We will swallow this valley and raise an empire from its bones. If one of them has appeared then I will gorge upon its flesh after violating every inch of its body. As for my poor defeatist Pinthalak...”

The Warlord suddenly grabbed the imp, who knew better than to struggle and simply went limp. The massive seven fingered hand fully engulfed his small torso, and he was lifted into the air. Pinthalak grimaced as the huge elk head came into view. The Warlord’s mouth opened, and kept opening wider and wider. It looked unnatural like a snake unhinging its jaw, revealing rows of needle sharp teeth, all dripping green saliva. The first bite separated Pinthalak’s upper body from his lower body. The second bite left nothing behind but a black puddle of blood at The Warlord’s feet.

“Enjoy your vacation, my little cowardly Pinthalak.” The Warlord said after swallowing, fires finally stirring in his black eyes as the promise of war ignited his blood.

* * * *

An hour after the adventurers’ departure I was sitting in an overstuffed arm chair across from Tabula while Niiya sat on a plush fur rug, hugging her knees. She was watching Rain intently. The jolly little penguin was doing some incredible sleight of ‘hand’ magic tricks with colorful balls, making them disappear and reappear as he juggled them hypnotically.

“Mr. Gray, there’s something I’d like to try when we depart.” Tabula said, obviously working up the courage to ask for something.

“I’m all ears.” I said, and saw Tabula’s face crinkle in confusion. “Oh, guess you don’t know that one. It’s an expression that means I’m listening carefully.”

“Oh! Then I shall become all mouths.” Tabula replied in earnest. “I have been using a portion of my mind to research the sub programs of EDEN since I awoke, and have discovered an exciting possibility.”

I twirled my hand, urging her to continue as I sipped my drink.

“There is a configuration code that would potentially allow for EDEN to become portable while deployed, enabling us to assist you in your adventures.”

I choked on my hot cocoa. After a few coughs and a gentle pat on the back from one of Rain’s flippers I gaped at Tabula. If she was serious, this was beyond huge.

“H-how would that work exactly?” I stammered.

“First we simply need some type of mobile platform such as a truck or whatever the equivalent is in this place. If we fill the platform with a layer of soil, that will satisfy the requirements for EDEN’s initial deployment. After that, you just need to crawl inside and I will guide you through the manual custom configuration menu. Once you input the code I have created, EDEN will become a mobile base. Rain, Jade, and myself can then freely operate within one hundred meters of it at any time.”

I jumped to my feet, then hopped over the coffee table between us. I proceeded to grab Tabula by the shoulders and with an ear to ear smile spoke.

“You are a damn genius Tabula!” I was ecstatic, over the damn moon and Tabula was blushing fiercely. “I can probably buy a sturdy wagon in that Bravewhatever village...”

“No need to buy it.” Niiya suddenly spoke up.

“Why not?” I replied with a cocked brow.

“There’s a wagon at... my house.” Niiya looked down as she noticed all eyes on her before she finished speaking. “Behind the barn.”

“I’ll go back for it.” I said. “You should wait here where it’s safe.” I saw Niiya’s face turn crestfallen and I stopped the building protest with a raised hand. “I’ll be much faster on my own. I promise to return right away.”

Niiya set her mouth in a firm line and held out her pinky, her flashing eyes dared me not to take it. I smiled and sealed the pinky promise.

“Feed her if she gets hungry, and show her around if she gets bored.” I instructed Tabula.

“Leave everything to me.” She replied holding a hand over her chest as she bowed properly.

I pulled on my boots and left EDEN a few minutes later, running fast toward the farmhouse. I didn’t use my elixirs even though they were available. I figured it was best to save them for battles rather than abuse them for convenience. Thanks to my stolen endurance, I maintained a full sprint while leaping over fallen logs and across creeks with ease.

I broke into the field behind the farmhouse only twenty minutes later, noting that nothing had changed. I walked to the barn. Crows, flies and wasps were already hard at work cleaning up the carcasses. I ignored the grizzly scene and walked behind the topless barn. Just as Niiya had said, there was a fine and sturdy wagon. It would accommodate a single large draft animal. I didn’t have any way to pull the wagon, and I hoped that what I was planning would work. I opened my Astral Vault, and held my right hand out, touching the wagon. It glowed blue, and a prompt appeared.

Store ? This object occupies 70 Inventory Slots. (160/1009) Slots Available. (Yes/No)

“Suck it everyone that can’t fit a wagon in their pocket!” I cheered with a fist pump.

A distant sound caused me to stop the impromptu celebration. It was a deep, rolling bellow from the direction of the village just a mile or so away.

“A war horn?” I wondered.

I heard opportunity in the intimidating note, and pulled out my strength and speed elixirs. Three minutes later, I viewed the village of Braverton. It was really just a score or so of small wooden cottages with a large town hall made of quarried stone. The streets were deserted, and I could guess where everyone likely was cowering. The sound of the horn split the air once again, from the other side of the village. From this distance, I could tell the object carried an enchantment. I instinctively knew that I had resisted some status effect but wasn’t sure what.

“Probably just a morale debuff.” I said to myself as I approached the sturdy double doors of the town hall. From inside I could hear whimpers and whispers.

I paused for a moment, wondering at my course of action. There were no lookouts posted, and I couldn’t hear any voices of authority inside.

“They sent the fighters out to challenge whatever is coming. Why not just run?” I rhetorically asked the empty afternoon village as I left the town hall and sprinted toward the horn.

It was apparently more distant than I initially thought. More than ten minutes of hard running went by before I found the edge of a clearing that bordered one of the Twin Viper rivers. It was a saw mill on the river, and the trees near it had all been felled.

I groaned in revulsion as I took in the scene. Eleven fat ogres towered five feet over the heads of the score of crude spear wielding villagers. Several lifeless broken bodies were already strewn about the tree stump riddled field. Far more troubling than the ogres was the figure seated on the sturdy lumber mill roof like it was a damn park bench. The mountain giant was a specimen even among his warrior race and I knew this fight was beyond futile.

“Appraisal.” I muttered, and gulped hard at what was displayed.

Yugal

Level: 80

XP: 18% to Next Level

Life: 600/600 Soul Energy 2/2

Strength: 280

Endurance: 300

Agility: 30

Soul: 1

Skills:

True Giant: All attacks have a (5’) base Area of Effect. Immune to Tier 6 and lower poisons. Take double falling damage. +3 Endurance and Strength per Level

Leap Smash: Leap and land anywhere within (30’) Any creatures within (10’) of landing point suffer damage equal to Strength.

Royalty-Command Lesser Monsters: Monsters with a lower level are compelled to follow your orders unless a stronger Royalty-Command effect is present.

“Hmm.” I tried to ignore the horrible crushing and squelching sounds as the poor villagers were being massacred. I scanned through my inventory and wracked my brain for a solution. I paused on a certain artifact and narrowed my eyes. It was an invaluable item in group combat for tank characters but I kept it for escort quests. “I’m so stupid...” I muttered as I selected it.

A tiny silver bell with a long silk ribbon appeared. It was no bigger than what a cat might wear on its collar. I stepped into the clearing and moved to within the range required for the item to work. With a deep breath and a small prayer to my poser goddess, I tied the bell around my neck and flicked it once.

*Used Item: Mr. Tiggles’ Terrible Bell-Artifact

All monsters in combat within (100’) focus all aggression on you until combat ends or their range exceeds (100’) from you.

Cooldown: 0h:59m:59s