The breeze carried down from the mountains the unmistakable smell of blood, accompanied by the wrenching sounds of death. Hidden amongst the trees other bandits lie in wait, leaders of their fellows that charged up the mountains to their demise; horror etched upon their faces. The village withstood the attack, completely intact, not a militiamen one had fallen.
One of them in particular, a giant man with a receding hairline and a face riddled with tell tale scars of fights hard won was trembling; not from fear, but from rage. His boys weren't supposed to loose, this village was supposed to be easy prey, they were going to ransack the place and spend the night in stolen beds with women left defenseless. Now... Now they had lost.
The giant of a man brought his crazed eyes to his feet where a small black demon sat in the grass, its neck tightly wrapped by a leather collar and a long chain that linked the creature to his belt. It was an imp, named Hagop, who had been captured months earlier while this band of not-so-merry men had only just begun to assemble. The creature had nearly escaped them, hidden as he was by his stealthy magic, but the rare fortune of one of the giant mans bandits having powers like that of a Mordecai from Connloath rendered his magic useless. No longer hidden behind his shroud the demon was forced to submit, and has in part been fueling the success of the bandits and encouraging their growth ever since.
The man grabbed the chain fastened to his belt and yanked it dragging the imp into the dirt with an audible yelp.
"Do something."
Through choked breaths the imp replied with venom in his voice, but with his eyes trained on the ground.
"What do you desire of my, master? A fire storm, a blessing from the nether?"
Sarcasm. Even after his enslavement to this brute, and suffering through his ritualistic beatings to be 'taught his place' Hagop had lost not even a sliver of his own intolerable personality. The man took notice very quickly and gave the imp's leash another quick yank, and hefted the imp up to eye level with himself leaving the tiny demon to dangle, chocking, from his collar while the bandit spat his orders one last time.
"Do something. Get the ones that are alive out there, back here. Now!"
The giant unhooked the leash and allowed the demon to topple to the ground and watched with cold eyes as the imp slowly clamored to its feet and walk away before disappearing into a cloud of smoke.
The farther away he got from the man the more visibly angered the imp became until it seemed as if he might start throwing stones back at the forest. But he maintained a somewhat controlled composure until he reached the battle. Musket rounds and arrows flew over head, and bandits were still falling while Hagop observed from behind his camouflaging spells. With each bandit that died a bit of stress left the imp's form, feeling that his imprisonment was at last being repaid to some degree, but eventually he began to feel a warmth around his neck growing steadily hotter.
"Fine."
Disobedience to his master was not allowed; failure to comply would set off the magic within the collar, visiting a pain upon his small body that was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Fearful of the collars effects Hagop got quickly to work, and with the flick of his wrist a glimmer of light began to dance between the fingers on his right hand. It moved delicately and slowly, weaving in and out of his appendages, but the light began to change from a soft blue glow to a black haze that surrounded the imp's entire hand. He snapped his fingers, and the fog drifted from his hand to the ground where it exploded outward rolling in all directions around the demon.
His left hand began to work its own magic, little bands of green light encircling his fingers had appeared with small strings that dangled from each. One finger twitched, then another, and another until his hand seemed to dance and the results manifested high above the imps head, in the form of a black robed, skeletal figure with fiery spheres sitting in its eye sockets. Hagop clinched his left hand into a fist and the terror lifted one boney hand towards the villagers, and with an audible boom the robed figure spoke.
"Fear, for the day of your demise is finally upon you."
The bandits began to flee back from whence they came, while skeletal wings unfolded from the ghostly creatures back. Sweat formed on the imps brow as he focused all his effort into the enormous illusion. It seemed, at first, to work; as the villagers had no idea of what to make of the looming figure, and combat began to lull as the bandits tried to escape.