Wednesday, September 11, 2013

What About Vilnius?

When Vilnius had terminated my brief alliance with Halkkor by informing him of my plan to assassinate him, I’d kind of gotten caught up in a mad scramble for survival.  I’d ordered Vilnius to attack Halkkor, which, of course, had resulted in Vilnius’s death.  But then I went through that frantic teleportation thing when I was trying to escape from Halkkor’s murderous grasp.  When I did escape, I was haunted by the possibility that he was still alive and terrified of his army mobilizing itself against my still-helpless legions.  In my quest to learn how to defend against Lucifer’s Firstborn, I’d died, experienced a very bizarre Gandalf moment, and then been confronted with the problem of Niven’s jailbreak.  Then I’d had to worry about Azraal’s double cross and General Gavsot’s survival in his weakened state and on top of all that I’d learned that Halkkor was still alive and was resuming his annihilation of demonkind. 

So I think it was completely understandable for the fact that Vilnius had died at the beginning of all this to have slipped my mind.  Which is why I’d neglected to install a new Director in his stead and left the Department of Developstruction to handle a succession crisis all on its own.  But apparently demons aren’t the most democratic species out there, and instead of peacefully voting on a new Director, it seemed that a few of the frontrunners had jockeyed violently for position and their followers had split the Department into warring factions.

Fucking demons.  Always with the blood and the violence.

Stressing the need for a quick resolution, I ordered that everyone who had made a claim for the position of Director be summoned immediately.  Malkino protested on the basis that he was the only one with a legitimate claim, so I blasted him with a pyrokinetic fireball and suddenly everybody realized that I wasn’t messing around. 

A few moments later, the three claimants stood before me.  Malkino, the short, bright green demon with the smooth, deep voice seemed confident in his right.  Zyzyfus, a lanky, pale orange demon, seemed uncomfortable standing within fifty feet of Malkino.  And Wakka—


“You’re a Pit Guard,” I said dumbly, staring at Wakka in open shock.

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