The war camp of the Demon Prince, Krusious Zephanum, had settled itself across miles of open grasslands along the outermost edge of the Prince's territory. Well more than ten thousand tents had been erected and with them small fortifications had begun to arise. Generals and great Commanders among the Demon Prince's armies had placed walls around their personal camps, creating islands of defensible locations throughout the sea of white canvas tents. In the middle of the camp stood a true Fortress.<br/><br/>The outer wooden wall was a staggering twenty feet tall and sported dozens of siege towers along each side. Heavy gates opened to reveal what could only be described as a small town. The fortress was filled with half built structures, from stables to housing, and even a dedicated tavern. Further inside was another wall, though this inner wall was somewhat shorter. Through a second set of gates one entered the domain of the Demon Prince himself.<br/><br/>A massive platform in the middle of this inner courtyard rose several feet off the ground, atop which sat two things. The first was difficult to miss and commanded attention from all that entered the Demon Prince's camp, the grand pavilion. A sprawling tent structure with nearly a dozen spacious rooms beneath it's rooftop. The second sat in the entryway of the pavilion on a surprisingly plain chair, the Demon Prince himself.<br/><br/>Krusious sat with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and watching everything before him in total silence. The burly warrior Prince was not dressed in silks or decorated with jewels, instead he wore nothing more than a series of leather and steal straps that hung about his waist like a kilt. His scalp was freshly shaved, leave not but black stubble for hair atop his head. The mystic runes that had been tattooed across his body gave off an eerie glow that cast intimidating shadows across his muscular form, and the scent of brimstone hung in the air around him.<br/><br/>Soulless black eyes fixated briefly on a pair of slave soldiers engaged in combat before his platform, someone's failing attempt to provide the Prince with entertainment. Suddenly the demon rose from his seat, standing to a tremendous height of over nine feet. The cloying scent of brimstone became more pronounced, and the tattoos across his body began to glow brighter.<br/><br/>"Enough!" His voice boomed, echoing from the inner walls of his camp. "Denara!" His black gaze swept his inner courtyard, and failed to find her immediately. "Summon my stained little Angel, and call for my kennel master. I've a mind to feed the hounds." The towering Rage Demon turned back to his plain throne, and dropped back into his original seated position.