The pale man watched Piro and the others a bit shaken but curiosity starting to show, listening to him and then watching the sorceress' actions once he announced his plans and she voiced her protests. The man's gaze over her figure was brief but if there was interest there it ended with a sharp wince of obvious pain, the man's legs clenching together for a moment. Drawing a short breath, the man swallowed and spoke a bit nervously at Piro.<br/><br/>"Nosering? Uh, yeah some call him that but you would be better off not calling him that. He controls the wards, and any Damned in this domain that try and flee are gonna hurt." He patted the side of his neck, a crimson symbol seeming to burn in his flesh and sizzle, the smell of burning flesh apparent for a moment as he whimpered and squirmed there. Yet as the burn faded, the skin was left with a branding mark similar to one the fiendess had been using on a lot of gear and the guards had carried in a signet for doors. Nonetheless, the man swallowed nervously at the time before speaking up.<br/><br/>"But he might be willing to hear you out. Alright, uhm, guess you might not be ... entirely unwelcome... to have gotten warned about the hounds..." He shook his head and then sighed. "I'll take you to<em>Lord</em>Maughiel." The way he said the last part sounded like he was trying to mock the title with the most sarcasm he could squeeze into those words, but the burning sizzling started again and he quickly shook his head. "I am mere instrument of his will of course, and its him you must convince!" He whimpered a bit pathetically, but the sizzling stopped.<br/><br/>"This way..." He whimpered, moving to the door and pushing it open to reveal a hallway through a corridor with murder holes in the roof and arrow-slits on the sides. The other side held doors that looked tightly shut, before the pale man rested his hand on the doorhandle that shone with a symbol as did the back of his hand. Opening it, he revealed a scene of torment and agony. Iron Maidens, hooked chains hanging from the roof, turning wheels half-way submerged to pools of dirty water, and a few chairs with metal straps in them, and more than a few shackles and pillars with cuffs attached littered the grounds, as did bound white figures, men and women, young and old, attached to their bindings. A total of nine of them were visible, but they were in different states of destruction, some of them looked like they should be dead, but they seemed to be slowly healing on their own.<br/><br/>"Lord Maughiel has mercifully left these wretches to recover before more illiaster could be squeezed out of them..." He explained and swallowed nervously. "...and as a warning to others to not plan anything as foolish as attacking him. He put the Faustian into a cell before you came." The man shook his head and sighed. "Damn Sorcerer, thinking he has the right to try and lay claim to the place. He may be 'honorary devil' by his actions but Lord Maughiel shoved him in his place..." The old man's voice lowered a hint there. "...though Maugie's the one that should be face-first in manure..."<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://imgs.tuts.dragoart.com/how-to-draw-an-imp_1_000000001131_5.jpg)</div>The sizzling that followed was again companied by simpering whimpers and whispers of submission as the pale man lead them through the room to the back where a large set of dual doors opened to a room with alchemical equipment set about and ready. A rack of twelve vials was glowing faintly there, and a crimson-skinned imp was smirking on a large wooden stool with a plush pillow on it, holding a lone vial in his clawed fingers looking at it amusedly. The whip-like tail cracking to the floor with force on hearing the approaching old man.<strong>"That's close enough."</strong>He stated this calmly, leaving the group fourty feet away from him in the long room. Along the sides, several bubbling brews were attached to pipes, with pale figures strapped to chains and hanging from hooks from above were pitifully turning hand-cranks to keep machinery moving, including a large piston blowing more air into a covered cauldron, its glass lid showing thick green water being mixed with cleaner water and the lighter shaded liquid carried on as the thicker green material seemed to return to a more paste-like quality, seeming to<em>expand</em>slowly on its own. There was a multitude of strange reactions going on, some of them seemingly repeating in perpetuity without interference beyond those chained people keeping the machinery flowing.<br/><br/><strong>"Hmh. You don't look like Riethi ambassadors, nor do you look like you are part of Glabretch. Don't tell me you are Lictat?"</strong>He snarled in an annoyed manner, looking the four of them over with a wary look about him. There was no weapons in immediate reach, but the fiend looked more than confident enough even without any extra protections.<strong>"You don't look like you need <em>Strain</em> nor <em>Agony</em>, and I am betting you aren't here for <em>Illiaster</em> either. So I want to know, what brings you to my domain, and why should I not kill you where you stand?"</strong>The fiend growled but kept watching them intently.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Unable to find the original inspiration image which has apparently been taken off-line since then, but this gets about as close as I can get on immediate moment.</div></div>