Ammaraxyl sat upon his black obsidian throne, with his handsome face resting into his left hand.  The demon lord of the seventh was often considered to be one of the most attractive of fiends, being of a muscled, athletic frame, standing over nine feet tall.His skin was likewise jet black, like polished onyx.  His jet black hair was worn in a loose mow-hawk that cascaded down the left side of his head.  Oh his arms he work expensive looking platinum armbands, and at his waist was a thick, heavy leather belt with numerous platinum studs and buckles, holding up a lavish black silk loincloth.   He legs were muscular and powerful, with his black hooves polished to an almost mirror sheen.<br/><br/>His eyes glowed a sinister red, from behind thin black cat like pupils, and scanned the throne-room floor before him, where his chief Artificer stood, presenting his latest contraption.<br/><br/>The chief Artificer had been an executioner in life, and had fulfilled his duty to the utmost, providing justice as the court decided.  Sometimes the punishments were quick and decisive, and sometimes they were brutal in the extreme.<br/>As is always the case in the mortal realm, sometimes mistakes were made, and sometimes those who were innocent had been severely punished for crimes they did not commit.  In the afterworld however, a detailed list of a being crimes was always kept by the scribes of the hells, and the laws were exact.  As such, when it was time for Ammona to pass on, he was given a position in the afterlife that was not unlike the one he had in life;  To see to it that the truly evil and guilty paid back their debts to reality.  He was now in charge of carrying out the sentences of those damned to this realm.<br/><br/>Ammaraxyl , if nothing else, was fair and just.  In his layer of the hells, the torments always fit the crimes.<br/>The demon lord reclined back into his throne, and considered the device that gnomish demon Ammona had crafted.  From its first appearance, it looked like a grand pipe organ made from numerous human bones, complete with many brass pipes pointing towards the sky.  Embedded within each pipe however was a random, damned soul that had committed a devious crime in life, arranged upon the pipes according to the tune of their most agonized scream.<br/>When a bone key was played upon the manual, it would cause an intensified agony upon a certain soul, causing it to emit a horrible, terrified how of pain.<br/>Ammon sat at the manual, cracked his knuckles, and played a lengthy tune.<br/><br/>Mournful perhaps, but necessary.  Balance must be maintained.  These truly guilty entities made people howl in agony during their lives, and so they would now howl for him.<br/>Amma swirled around a lavish silver chalice, mixing the rich red vintage it contained.  He inhaled of its aroma, and enjoyed the melody of screams that played at his ears.<br/><br/>His eyes suddenly shot open, and glowered at something on the far wall, not looking at anything in particular, but seemed to focus on something one thousand yards away.<br/>The demon lord flashed his eyes at the gnomish demon articifer, drew a single finger across his ebony neck.  Ammona ceased playing upon his new creation, and looked to his liege with concern.<br/>"What is it my lord?"  The small demon asked of Ammaraxyl in a deep voice choked with gravel.<br/><br/>His deep red eyes flashed to the side, and then back to his faithful servant... in a deep voice that seemed to stir the very fabric of reality, Ammaraxyl spoke:<span style="font-size: 26px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><i><b><span style="font-size: 18px">"It would seem that I am being...." </span></b></i></span></span><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><span style="font-size: 15px">The lord of the seventh then paused for a moment, considering, as the following word was unknown, and alien to him... <span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><b><i>"...summoned?"</i></b></span></span>  He murmured, his handsome face almost striking a comical expression.</span></span><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><span style="font-size: 15px"><br/>
If nothing else, the powerful demon was amused at the prospect, and indeed curious.  <b><i><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"...Let me go and see what this foolish spell caster wants."  </span></span></i></b></span></span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">Ammaraxyl stood tall, with his black leather harness creaking over his obsidian skin.  He slashed his had through the air, a look of bemused glee on his face.   What mortal dared such a thing?</span></span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">A moment later, The demon lord found himself standing in an artfully drawn summoning circle, drawn with the usual white chalk.   The markings on the ground had taken great effort, and everything appeared to be accurate in every detail.  If nothing else, this fool did know how to draw a summoning circle.   He looked around at the wizard's study, and saw that everything was meticulously organized.  His red eyes then flashed to see a gorgeous female humanoid with jet black long hair, and beautiful olive skin.   He could not see her face just yet, but something about her stirred his demonic loins.</span></span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">His anger at being summoned was replaced with curiosity.  The soul she possessed did not carry any taint of evil or intention of wrongdoing.  While she did give off surface thoughts of study and acquiring knowledge and power, as almost all wizards did, she did not seem to want it to do anything nefarious.</span></span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">Her voice was likewise beautiful and melodious, as she addressed him directly, not as a wizard who felt they were in control of an entity they just summoned, but more akin to greeting a guest that they had invited into their home...</span></span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">This female wizard did indeed cut a little deeper than she had intended.  The deeper the cut performed for the summoning ritual, the more powerful the being that could be summoned.   This girl had unknowingly cut her hand all the way to the bone...  The magical energies then went and contacted a being of power respectful of the cut one made...   </span></span></span></span><br/>
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<span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">Terryn of the Maveis family.   This must have been a relatively new bloodline established only a few thousand years ago, as Ammaraxyl had never heard of them before...  No, Wait...</span></span></span></span><br/>
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The demon lord had lived for millennia.  Back when he was still a demon general, he had once been summoned by someone of the Maveis family, some five millennia ago.   Magnus was his name?  He had been a good and honorable man, and had summoned Ammaraxyl in the hopes of defending his city against an onslaught of many orcs that had come to rob, raid and pillage the place.<br/>
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The battle had been glorious.  Many of the foul green-skins fell to his blades that day, and he had enjoyed the war immensely...  An agreement was then made, that should the Maevis line ever need help with something of this nature, that Ammaraxyl would be at the ready.<br/>
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An ancient, long forgotten agreement...  And yet, here he was.   He could smell Magnus's blood flowing within her veins.  Given the level of dilution, he estimated that this girl was distant descendant, almost one hundred and twenty generations apart.   Magic still flowed strong within this family.</span></span><br/><span style="font-size: 18px"><br/>
<i><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">"You may adress me as Lord Ammaraxyl, lord of the seventh plane of the hells." </span></b></i></span>He responded to he question, murmuring low and deep, in a way that one would feel deep within their very bones.<span style="font-size: 18px"><b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"> "Now tell me, what would the great granddaughter of Magnus Maveis, several times removed, ask of me?"</span></i></b><br/>
<b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"></span></i></b><br/>
<b><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><a class="username" data-user-id="2730" data-username="@Midknight" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/2730/">@Midknight</a> </span></i></b></span>