“My Lord…” Baal began, his head down and eyes closed as he attempted to clear his disorientation.

“Allow me to explain…”

“No need.” Baal’s head shot up the moment Dagon cut him off, as Dagon pointed at him with two fingers and beckoned with a single motion. “Come.”

Baal felt as if he was grabbed by some invisible force and ripped forward at incredible speed, his body passed harmlessly through the patrons he could see out of his left eye and not one of them reacted as if anything strange had happened at all! He came to a sudden stop, face-to-face with his master.

“Rather than waste time playing with words, I will just have you show me what I want to know.” Dagon smiled wide as elements of his human façade morphed, his teeth sharpening and his pupils narrowing into slivers before Baal’s eyes. Baal attempted to open his mouth, as wordless air gasped out and he stared into the endless depths of darkness! The wood of the inn groaned as shadow seemed to consume everything! The void crawled and consumed everything around him, and in it he felt his memories pouring out like a river of paint across a canvas. His meetings with the council, his conversations with Eric, his thoughts and fears… everything!

As quickly as it began, it ended. Baal slumped down like a bag of wet sand onto one of the bar stools, sweat dripping profusely from his body as he leaned over the counter for support, breathing heavily.

After a long moment of silence, Dagon began to move again, grabbing a large pint and filling it to the brim with frothing ale.

“Everything you are” he spoke slowly, emphasizing every point with a stop.

“Everything you were” he placed the mug in front of Baal, before lifting up his chin to look deeply into the shaken demon’s eyes.

“And everything you ever will be, comes from me. My will is all that matters, all else is a secondary concern. Do you understand?” Sendrien spoke softly, almost a whisper at this point. Baal nodded, still unable to speak.

“Good. Then on to business, ah, and please have a drink. It will help.” Dagon laughed as Baal chugged his pint.

“It appears some of my suspicions were correct. There is something wrong with this city, and it is likely the same thing that is wrong with this country as a whole. The humans here are not behaving as one would expect.”

“Yes, My Lord. They do not appear to be acting in their own best interests. However, I don’t know…”

“Yes, yes, I already know you don’t know why.” Dagon snapped, and the proud branch manager shrunk back in to his chair.

“Now then, allow me to put the pieces I see together with yours. First, we have the destruction of Kurstwood. A human border town in a precarious location, destroyed by demons. However, almost no bodies were left behind. The lack of evidence and method of destruction might lead one to assume it was raided by one of the demihuman tribes in the wilderness, if not for the fact we found a demon there ourselves.” Sendrien lifted a single finger to emphasize his initial point.

“Second, we have a magical plague showing up practically out of nowhere and rapidly spreading, yet it has managed to spread so effectively that we are only finding out about it now that it has reached such a critical tipping point? What kind of malady operates in such a targeted fashion? Even magical maladies don’t spread that way, and they ravage indiscriminately and wildly. This is far too targeted, too efficient. It even escaped your eyes.”

Baal swallowed, as Dagon continued.

“Finally, the behavior of the city and the Kingdom. The level of division across the Kingdom is almost too perfect, with a civil war enflamed at an almost engineered speed! A single small match has unleashed devastation across this country, and magically, neither side is able to ascertain any kind of advantage? Each step by one side is quickly undone and matched by the other? Just from the messenger’s reports on the war and gossip from the refugees, it is clear it will not resolve for a long time.” Dagon took Baal’s empty mug, and began to refill it as he spoke.

“Then there is Njord, which, in spite of my… rather obvious display, one which could essentially amount to a declaration, has seemingly chosen to try and bury the events in question? Some of the humans are behaving as expected, but the rot runs deep… planted, cultivated and festering. A very familiar rot, the kind leveraged by the most pathetic of my kin.” Dagon sneered in disgust, as Baal quietly contemplated, his eyes darting across the surface of the counter, etching out imagined scenarios.

“My Lord, then… this can only mean that the Daemon Kingdom to the North has fallen… but why would Carinthus move against them when they haven’t conquered the rest of Ebenheim?”

“I can think of two just from my experience alone. First, this world’s Demon Lord is aware enough to recognize that when he starts to take action, the world will likely unify to oppose him. Such is the record in history for each Demon Lord that preceded him, and such was the action of the Nations from Americia against me. Second… is that he knows he will win.”

“Even if he takes action here, The Empire will not sit quietly by while their neighbor is invaded by Demons! Nor will the city states refuse to take action! Unless… ” Baal’s eyes opened wide.

“He already has a plan in motion to constrain their actions. Carinthus’ methods are truly cowardly, however… I should applaud that child for having a modicum of cunning. It… almost reminds me… of my dear brother…” Dagon’s muscles tensed, and his smile took on a grisly hue and the entire structure groaned again under the weight of a malignant laugh, before calming down again.

“There isn’t much time until this city is annihilated, Baal. Courtesy of mistaken circumstance, they have revealed their hand early, otherwise death would have already befallen everyone else here. I have a little errand I must run back on Americia tomorrow, but I will return before nightfall. There should be enough time for that at least.”

“Understood, my Lord. What should I do about the coming invasion?”

Sendrien mulled the question for a moment, before he began to unleash an unnatural, unnerving cackle that echoed throughout the room.

“I could hardly care what happens to most of the people here, and I am not interested in going out of my way to save any of them. However… it would be most disappointing if Carinthus managed to have his way without much resistance. It would be a lot more interesting if everyone had a taste of despair, no? I would love nothing less than a good show, perhaps with someone worthy to play my role! Someone grand who is unafraid to hide behind the shadows, and who can capture the imagination!” Dagon was halfway dancing across his imagined stage, his eyes distant as he imagined the chaotic scenes of war and he reminisced on the great heroes he once faced.

“Yes, my Lord! I may already have a few ideas…” Baal grinned wildly, his eyes alight with malevolent pleasure.

With their discussion finished, Baal hurried out of the Bear and the Skeever. Dagon eyed over to the corner of the room, where a tall, black-clad man quietly smoked his cigar. The man barely registered a hint of surprise the moment Baal exited the inn, immediately controlling his expression before glancing back at the illusory Thistleman operating perfectly behind the counter.

“In the face of absolute despair, I hope you won’t disappoint me! Rise, and show me the strength of your soul and your conviction!” Thistleman continued to laugh to himself for a little while in the solitude of his parallel break in reality. Slowly, he quieted down, and watched his contract as she navigated an unruly crowd that would have driven an ordinary girl to tears.

"Soon, my little Diane, you will be faced with the impossible wall of reality. What will you do? How will you face it? I have given you the pieces... but what price are you willing to pay to make your dreams come true?"