<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v140/Lockepick/Character%20Pictures/of_ritual_madness_and_ecstasy_by_amdhuscias-d6r0a7o_zpsvgxckqqa.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Name:</strong></td><td>     </td><td>Methu, The Imbiber; Lord of Excess (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=229615.msg11272037#msg11272037)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong></td><td></td><td>Abyss #??; Fortress of the Burning Eye</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Warnings:</strong></td><td></td><td>PG (n/a)</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Effects:</strong></td><td></td><td><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Mind Blank</div><div class="spoiler_body">-Mind Blank (24hrs, Immune to Mind Affecting/Divination)</div></div></td></tr></tbody></table><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Stats:</strong></td><td>     </td><td>HP:</td><td>   </td><td>352 / 352</td><td>   |   </td><td>Sp / Li / SM:</td><td>   </td><td>+53 / +51 / +38</td></tr><tr><td></td><td></td><td>AC:</td><td></td><td>40 / 29 / 27</td><td>   |   </td><td>Saves:</td><td></td><td>+43 / +45 / +37</td></tr></tbody></table><hr/><br/><br/>Methu had done everything he could to avoid any sort of business meetings and arrangements in his new, hardly-official, office. Most of those who were plying for his protection or alliance knew the best way to lure him in was with the pretense of a party. Vholdran had tried to use a more business avenue, but the prospect of a slew of other new Demon Lords in one place was too interesting to pass up. There was a strong chance this was some attempt to jump him or kill him, to stop whatever power he had gained or even to stab at his supposed Master, but it would hardly be the first time somebody attempted to take advantage of what they saw as weakness, and he had always profited.<br/><br/>Methu, alone, teleported right outside the gate, fifteen feet into the air, as close as the wards would allow him. He dropped down, his cloven feet in boots made specifically for him that went half way up strong calves. The only thing that could count as clothing on him was a folded kilt of wine-red silks. The waist was held up onto his hips by a thick black leather belt, low enough to almost betray whatever modesty the garment was supposed to create. Careful creases along the back formed a pleated display, and the fold over the belt draped down each thigh; leaving his front only covered by one layer of the silk, hardly obscuring what rumor and reputation had already exposed. On each arm were a heavy pair of black steel gauntlets, the sheer size of them looking like they might tear the arms off even the sloven man's broad shoulders. They were largest at his hands, but plates of metal moved all the way up to his shoulder, not seeming to impede his movements at all. Thick leather straps connected the two sleeves, crossing over his chest and back, like a fashionable harness meant to draw the eye to his strong torso. A crown of grapes, berries, and gemstones was draped over his horns, requiring close scrutiny to tell which was which, but an even larger halo of spirits formed an even larger wreath around his head and shoulders.<br/><br/>Methu strolled past the eyes out in the front, holding a box, longer than wide, only stopping his stride to fly when presented with stairs, as if that was the limit of how much effort he was going to put into walking. He landed at the top of the stairs, signaling his entrance to the war room with the heavy clop of boots on stone before he was even visible. He took a long glance around at the spread supplied from the door way. While he hadn't met the mentioned Demon Lords before, he could guess based on reputation which of the two was Vholdran, given that the two current guests looked nothing alike. He made his way over towards Vholdran directly and offered the box, "In appreciation for inviting me into your home." Methu's grin was hardly the most comforting -- like the cat that caught the canary, even if the custom he was obeying was polite.<br/><br/>He went on to describe the insides regardless of Vholdran's intent on opening it, "That bottle of wine is the gift to Queen Unar for her twenty fifth birthday from Marquis Sutocona, the vintage being from the year that King Doarte, Unar's Father, took her mother as his bride and brought peace between those kingdoms." He gestured up in the air with one hand, "Marquis Sutocona is unlikely to notice the bottle is missing from his cellar until it is far too late to replace... given that the Princess is only sixteen now." He made his way over to a seat and invited himself into it, watching Vholdran for his reaction.