The Demon Wastes.

8pm

In the back of the kitchen, Grut and Brut were carrying the last of the cages of kittens out the back door. They set the cages down, opened the doors and after a few moments, the mewling kittens crawled out, wide eyed and fluffy, looking for their mothers.

“It's a shame to see so much food go to ‘waste’.” Grut said.

“Well, Lord Lancil said to release them from cold storage, so here we are,” Brut replied. “It is too bad we couldn't even have one for a little snack.”

“Such is our lot in life,” Grut said. “They are kinda cute... Maybe we could take one and raise it?”

Brut raised a moist eyeball on its stalk, “You know how dangerous they can be if left unattended. We don't need another 'Killer Cat' infestation.”

“That only happens when you feed them normal rations. We would just need to feed them cow meat.” Grut retorted, raising both his eyestalks in challenge.

“Grut. Do you see any cows around here?” Brut asked, raising his second and third eyestalks (the third one being what made him the superior in the relationship).

“...um...no?” Grut lowered his eyes. “I just want a pet.”

“Well, I hope some god helps the little fluff-balls. Being so young, they probably won't survive the night out here.” Brut lowered his three eyes. I pray something takes care of them quickly.

-

8:40pm

Prince Lancil raised his stone again, and hissed into it, “What? There is a fight scene going on! The Mondo and Caplet family brats are dueling! Oh...Oh no! The lead's friend just got a sword through the heart.” He listened. “Well, that was three ahead of the Heretic getting married. Not unforeseen, but terrible. Get the loyalists out of there. I suppose we invade Demonia tonight.” For several minutes, he listened further. “Very good. Did Grut and Brut get the kittens out of there?” … “Good. That will hurt that rastafat.”

-

Standing in the kitchen, the right hand demon of 'Demon Lord Rastafaun the Gorged' was yelling at the pair of lowly kitchen attendants. “So help me, if you don't hand over at least three cages of kittens, I will rip those 'stalks off of your slug bodies and feed them to you!”

Brut raised his three eyestalks in anger. “We followed orders. You want kittens? They're outside. Go catch your own!”

The large brute of a demon pushed Brut aside and threw open the back door. All that he could see was the quaint, and very empty valley that was behind the door. “You will pay for lying to me!” he screamed, slowly turning around. Then he smelled the pee and looked at the back of the door. “There's goat piss on the door. Did you free the goats too?”

Grut and Brut looked at each other, then at the big demon, and twitched their eyestalks in a shrug, “We never had any goats? Lord Lancil said they were beneath his dignity.”

“Well the door smells of it.” The big demon looked down, spying a pile of goat droppings. He reached down, scooped some up, and popped it into his mouth. “Yep. Goat.” Then his lower jaw and neck melted.

Grut and Brut exchanged another glance. “Yup, I'm out!” they announced in unison and oozed out the back door as quickly as their pseudopods would take them.

-

10:28pm

The play “Romero & Julie, the star crossed lovers” had just ended, with Romero having gutted himself after his bride-to-be had taken poison, when a sweating, pallid, and panting courier of the Dwarven Crown bolted into the great hall.

“My lords...” The courier took a series of deep breaths. “Lords and ladies, I apologize for the unseemly interruption...” Several more deep breaths. “But the Demon Lord 'Rastafaun the Gorged' has declared war...” Several more breaths. “...has declared war on the human lands, and on The Lord Heretic in particular...” The courier fell over.

The play's applause stopped. Lords, ladies, nobles, and even peasants stood rapidly from their seats. Some clustered and clumped, while others fled. Prince Lancil just shook his head and sighed.

“This appears to be my cue to leave,” Lancil said, “but before I go, please take these. They will protect you on the road and in your home, if you hang them up there in.” From demons, at least. He placed a set of three small pearls on silver chains on the table, nodded to his companions of the evening, and walked out of the hall.

-

10:30pm

A street rat dressed in fine clothing knelt over the courier while the adults in the hall were a hubbub of activity. He ran his fingers through the courier's pockets, armpits, pelvic region, neck, hair, hose legs, socks and boots. He quickly transferred what he found to his own locations, then sat back at the table with the farmer and his wife. “So, how did you two meet the 'Smith?”

The farmer gave him the side eye. “He helped up with the planting this year, gave us a new plow.”

The wife joined in, “And his little pixie was such wonderful company in the kitchen.”

“Really?” The boy looked at the pair. “They look really scary to me.”

“Son, you just robbed the corpse of a kings guardsman, and you spent the evening dining with the demon lord.” The farmer stated.

“And you think Max and Brandy are scary?” The wife asked.

“...Demon...Lancil...Prince...Lord...?” The boy pulled a small sending stone from his pocket and stared at it. “Oh shi---” The stone started to buzz.

-

Maxwell, his bride, and in fact, the entirety of the head table (minus the Fae, who had absconded sometime after the second act of the play), plus numerous people from the 'lower' tables were rearranging the dais and the tables for a council of war. The English, the Norse, and the Zulu found themselves bundled in next to a 'Willa Repute' and a 'Deacon Alexander'. The five eyeballed each other for a few moments, before Willa made the first move.

“My dear, I love the shaved head! I wish I could pull off that kind of warrior look. Sadly, they don't let me out on the street much anymore.”

Nomvula raised an eyebrow. “Then just stab them lightly with your knife. Used to work for me back home.”

“Oh, I do love you, girl.” Willa smiled. “If only I could take you home with me to show the other girls how to act.”

Magni piped up, “You could take me home with you,” and winked at Willa.

Chester looked to Alexander. “Please, tell me that you have better sense than these three?”

“I don't know? I'm just studying to be a Rune programmer,” Alex replied. “I've only just met Willa there this evening, and your group just now.” He shrugged as someone started to hammer on a table. “If I had known that it would lead to this, I probably would've become a farmer like dad wanted me to be.”

-

The boy put on his best, most innocent face, and answered the stone. “Prince Lancil’s, the demon lord extraordinaire, answering service! Master Grendel speaking!”... … “Very well, mister...Rastafat was it?” … “That kind of language is entirely unnecessary.” … “Very well, 'Demon Lord Rastafaun', I understand. Back as soon as possible; Return Kitten rations; Present self promptly for execution for treason.” … “Very well. I will relay the message as soon as I am able.”

Pale faced, he placed the stone on the table, turned away from the farm couple, and puked.

-

In a palace on the far side of the world a small weak kitten lay on a fat pillow, lapping up cream from a beautifully painted saucer, while a princess cooed at it.

-

Heard by all in the hall, in the celestial realm, and in the bowels of the abyss, a silver bell range once.

-

Proud of the ongoing tapestry, The Weaver carefully went back over the threads and swore. There was a tangle in the weave.