Deep in the heart of Oinus--in the Gray Wastes rises the Wasting Tower of Khin-Oin. Rising to a height of twenty miles and descending to a depth of twenty miles, the tower is home to many of the most power Daemons of the plane.<br/><br/>In one of the great cadaverous ballrooms of the tower, nestled between two vertebrae of whatever fiend, or God, the spine once belonged to are gathered many of the most powerful Abyssal Lords and Archdevils of the Abyss and the Nine Hells. Celestial blood is served in bone goblets or fluted glasses woven from distillate of darkness--for the more discerning or foppish of fiends.<br/><br/>From a buffet table, wrought from the slain skeleton of a Gold Wyrm, along the ballroom floor several hundred feet--are canapes and entrees that cater to every foul taste. Souls in soul gems of all hues rest on thousands of gold and silver pedestals, no fewer than thirteen maidens spin on spits roasting alive--their screams filling the vault as Daemon butchers carve slivers from their flash, and a trough of squirming larvae roll in bile their faces hideous and wasted caricatures of their mortal selves.<br/><br/>Dispater, with rod and staff, is in attendance and Malcanthet with a harem of succubi and incubi, among others. Both parties stray as far from each other as is possible.<br/><br/>Why all the lavish fare? And what could bring so many powerful beings together--beings that loath each other?<br/><br/>The auction--once in a great many centuries the 'loths hold an auction of powerful magics and secrets torn from prime material worlds and the lowest reaches of the lower planes. Many believe that possession of a mere handful of such items might swing the balance of the Blood War--but then who can say, truly?<br/><br/><br/>