Ammaraxyl stood tall, with rapt attention on the beautiful mortal female that was before him.<br/><br/>He listened to her every syllable as she spoke, and he found her voice to likewise be beautiful and alluring.  Her mannerisms were not arrogant and demanding as a demon might expect of a spell caster filled with hubris.  Terryn’s intents and thoughts were of a desire to acquire magical knowledge.<br/><br/>He admired he lovely form, and how her outfit was suggestive and form fitting to show off said beautiful body, to accentuate being able to influence those who might find her attractive.  This girl was obviously lovely, and she knew it.  She was also not above showing it off to get what she wants.<br/><br/>Perhaps he could coax her into just a little more than showing it off.<br/><br/>She wanted to learn from him.  Such was the case with almost all spell casters.  They all wanted to consolidate their power in the world, and to elevate their place within it.  This one however seemed more concerned with an acknowledgement of how dangerous the world and other planes of existence really were.<br/><br/>Unknown to her, he listened to her thoughts, and to the most subtle movements of her face, looking for telltale signs that she was trying to lie to him.<br/><br/>Most of her thoughts were genuine, and he was happy to listen to her request.<br/><br/>However, then she thought of a contract, thinking that it entitled her to something from him.  She was operating under the foolish assumption that he was bound to her will just from the summoning ritual.<br/><br/>Such may be the case for a lesser demon or imp, but such was not the case for a greater demon lord of terrible, unspeakable power.  This angered him slightly, but he said nothing.<br/><br/>Then she cast a few thoughts of having a plan should he get testy with her.  This angered him just a little bit further, but he made no outward appearance of it.  Of what this plan was he didn’t know.  He could easily use his powers to look deeper within her thoughts, but that would be invasive, and likely detectable by her.  He did not need to tip his hand like that, not just yet anyway.<br/><br/>Then came the thoughts of her regarding the possibility of him being an “uncooperative servant.”  This was enough to make him narrow his red glowing eyes about one one-thousandth of an inch.  Lord Ammaraxyl was not pleased.<br/><br/>The contract signed between Ammaraxyl and the Maevis bloodline was not one of indentured servitude, but one of mutual benefit.  Magnus had been a man of legendary appetites, and when he had first been summoned, Magnus had with him a troupe of high class expensive courtesans.  Lust and excessive pleasure were not considered sins as far as the lord of the seventh was concerned.  Betrayal, malicious lies, breaking of contracts for personal gain, taking away the freedoms of those who commited no crimes, and other such heinous crimes were what made a soul truly dark and deserving of eternal punishment.<br/><br/>Maevis had then offered the demon a place at his table, food, and some of the women to sate his fill, as one would a true friend.  He was then made aware of the horde of orcs outside the city gates.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Battle was what had gotten Ammaraxyl’s demonic blood flowing…  He had decided to handle the army first, and drive back the hordes until they fled in a blood filled torrent of fear.  Many evil orc souls were collected that day alone, almost doubling Ammaraxyl’s power overnight…<br/><br/>When the demon lord returned, the courtesans were there waiting for him, perhaps a little more aroused at watching his prowess in battle.  Surely his prowess in the bedroom was no less amazing and impressive?<br/><br/>Another weapon was unsheathed that evening, and satisfied every dirty little fantasy those high class prostitutes had.  IT had been a good day and better night.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Magnus had made him an offer as an equal.  This woman on the other hand had the wrong idea.  The contract was more along the lines of a mercenary general and a king in need of forces to help defend his kingdom.<br/><br/>Nothing was ever given for free.  The demon lord of the seventh was not without honor, and strove to profit in all of his dealings without trying to cheat.  Some other demons saw this as a weakness to be exploited.   Those other demons skulls now made the foot pieces of his throne…<br/><br/><br/><br/>Body language was far more effective at communication than any words could ever hope to be.<br/><br/>Ammaraxyl assumed a relaxed posture, holding his hands behind his back.  This was a stance normally taken by a powerful warrior in complete confidence of his abilities.  Unlike folding ones arms across their chest, which was a method of putting a barrier in between oneself and a possible threat, this posture however had another subtle message to convey: “Go ahead and try.  I will still win.”<br/><br/><br/><br/>The demon lord casually advanced upon the beautiful spell caster, stepping outside the barrier meant to hold him in place, shattering it with little more than a few relaxed steps forward, with his great hooves making the ground beneath them rumble and quake slightly.<br/><br/>He leaned forward, very close to her now, his scent was exotic, slightly musky, yet erotic, and quite pleasant to the average mortal nose.<br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"></span><br/><b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><span style="font-size: 18px">“Yes, Terryn of Maevis, I could teach you a thing or two about magic…”</span></span></i></b>He murmured to her, low and deep in a voice that most mortal women could feel in their very marrow…   Ammaraxyl waked a hand to the side, casting a very simple, yet powerful incantation of regeneration.  The wound she had cut upon her hand tingled deliciously, then grew warm as her flesh weaved and knitted itself back together, leaving only a thin wheal of blood behind, with no scarring or bruising whatsoever.<br/><br/><b><i><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">“…Such a lovely body.  Perhaps you shouldn’t be so abusive to it.” </span></span></i></b>He murmured.<br/><br/>The demon lord then continued, holding the young girl’s gaze with his glowing red eyes, his black, cat slit pupils boring into her own, as if looking directly into her soul.<b><i><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">“  …The real question is, what do you have to offer me?  I am only interested in collecting the souls of the truly evil, so that I may consolidate my power, and bring them to justice…”</span></span></i></b>He said, low and direct.<br/><br/><b><i><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">“…Or, perhaps you could offer me my fill of sexual pleasures, using that gorgeous body of your to make it happen.”</span></span></i></b>He continued, in a voice like oiled silk.<b><i><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">“Or perhaps a combination thereof.  Tell me, Terryn of Maevis, what do you offer me?”</span></span></i></b><br/><br/><br/><br/>He let the question hang there between them, heavy in the air, thickening it so much you could almost cut it with a knife…