Amarth, the third most powerful demon Lord on the Other Realm, shut the door to the Demon Emperor's throne room and slunk away. Once she was sure the Emperor would not hear her, she began stomping and fuming, sending lesser demons scattering away with her glare alone. Ones that were unfortunate enough to not see her coming or could not get out of her way soon enough met a variety of grisly ends.

Each death of a lesser and bit demon brought a small bit of joy to Amarth, but not enough to overcome the simmering rage boiling inside her. Damned Emperor and his cohort, Jaleel. Amarth was sure Jaleel was whispering into the Emperor's ear, keeping Amarth at number three, his left hand, rather than the coveted right hand. Jaleel was devious enough to have wormed her way into that spot, coming from right underneath Amarth when old Gharan was discorporated. During his “death,” a restructuring of the ranks of demons had happened, leaving him a full tier lower as a Greater Demon. Amarth had been vying for the right hand position, only to have that snake Jaleel steal it at the last second.

If there was one thing Amarth hated above all else, it was being made to look like a fool. That treacherous wyrm Jaleel had just done that and she would pay. Her mouth split into a wicked grin, fangs bared. Oh yes, she would pay.

Amarth took the steps three at a time to the grand maw of her home. It was a purple and black great hall, built from obsidian through dark magics. She threw the door to her house hall open, smashing some poor imp who had been on the other side of the door.

“Someone clean this up,” she shouted, and several more imps darted from the shadows around her, rags in hand and hurriedly cleaned at the mess that was their fallen brother. She stalked by the tiny demons, her scaled tail sweeping behind her and crushing another of the pathetic creatures. She flicked her tail, almost absentmindedly, to get the remnants of the imp off and continued down the great hall.

Several lesser demons fawned behind her, jogging to keep pace with her long strides, waiting for a command, and hoping to avoid becoming a target for her wrath. She continued her storming to the back of the hall, taking several more doors and some descending staircases before she came to her destination.

She threw open an ornate door, marked with several runes that would keep it a secret to all but herself and a few dedicated others. Another wicked smile spread as several of the lesser demons behind her burst into flames as they tried to follow her through.

“They never learn, do they?” Delvios asked, shaking his head slowly. He was a squat demon with four short horns framing his head, one of her few Greater Demon lieutenants.

“No, they never do. But they don't have the ability to come back from their death like we do,” she answered, pushing forward once more, Delvios came into a swift walk behind her.

“How did the meeting with our Emperor and his Right Hand go?”

She narrowed her eyes and almost looked back at the demon. His tone seemed slightly mocking, but then again, he always sounded like that.

“As usual,” she finally answered. Taking a deep breath, the ever present smell of sulfur giving her a slight sense of comfort, she continued. “Our lord does not see the merit in making more forays into the Mortal Realm. He, with the blessing of his Right Hand, wants to continue to consolidate their power here.”

She struck the stone wall with a clenched fist, sending a few cracks splintering through it. “How they can be content sitting on their fat asses on the laurels they won two hundred years ago, rather than taking the riches that lay one grasp away.” She reached out with the fist that struck the wall, flexing her clawed fingers through the air.

“Not everyone has your level of foresight, my lady.”

“No, I suppose they don't.”

Amarth paused, “Do you, Delvios?”

“Do I what, my lady?”

She rolled her eyes, “Have a long level of foresight like mine. Perhaps one that extends beyond me, one that stretches out far enough you see yourself as having risen to a Demon Lord?”

“No my lady,” he answered smoothly. That sardonic tone still remained. “My foresight is limited to making sure your plans and aspirations come to fruition.”

“Of course,” she muttered.

They walked on down the narrow hallway, coming to another door. Amarth ran a slender finger along the frame and the door melted away. They strode into a large, circular room. In the center was a pit, a deep pit hidden away in the bowels of her fortress of a home.

As they walked to the pit, she shot her hand out and caught Delvios mid stride. “This is where you go back.”

“But, my lady. I want to help you with your prisoner. It brings me great joy to help invent new ways to torture the mortals.”

“I know,” she said flatly. “But I decided to try your tactic with the Emperor and look where we are now. Get out of my sight before I rearrange the wards to include you in their triggering.”

Delvios opened his mouth as if to stay something, but snapped it shut at her glowering stare. He bowed low. “Of course, my lady.”

He walked out of the room backwards, still bowing. Amarth watched him with narrowed eyes. She would have to punish him later for his tone. She had no proof he had orchestrated her argument to fail and make a fool of her in front of Jaleel and the Emperor, but she would punish him for that too. Once he had grovelled his way out the door and shut it behind him, she swung her attention down into the pit.

A single being lay in the bottom, curled in on herself. Pink, matted hair sat atop an unmoving face. Bloodshot eyes stared up at Amarth, though the gnome had not cried in years, no matter what Amarth had thrown at her. She could torture her some more, in fact, Amarth had an exhaustive list of tortures to try. She had barely even scraped the top over the past few years with this one.

She stroked her sharp chin with a long fingered hand, wondering what torture to do next, when a wonderfully wicked idea came to her. Amarth smiled down at the prone gnome. No, no torture today. Amarth had much bigger plans now.

The gnome shifted a little as Amarth turned from the pit, a slight bounce in her step. She had so many things to prepare, so much revenge to achieve.