Ah, just another fine day in paradise.
Well…
It wasn’t paradise yet but it would become paradise soon enough. A foothold was being gained however, and eventually it could become a paradise. Maybe not a paradise for humans however, though they would play a very nice roll in making it paradise. Not just humans of course, elves, demons, dragon-kin, Drow, every single sentient humanoid and non-humanoid would serve to turn Connlaoth into a Temptation Lord’s paradise. They didn’t even know that yet, and he really wasn’t going to tell them either, best for him to just keep it all under his hat. If they figured out his plan, he’d be ruined and he would have to start all over again somewhere else, and he had just gotten this place going so it would be such a hassle.
Like he’d have to forward his mail to another realm.
That was the worst part of it.
Ah well. He’d have to make do for the time being, starting small and working his way up. That was what his plan relied on. Starting small. Very small. Just a few drugs here, a few nobles there, and then soon enough everything would start to pan out properly. If you looked at the bigger picture, even the smallest part played was still completely beneficial to the larger parts. Still, he loved his plan, and he was going to do his best to ensure that it succeeded no matter what. So far he was gaining a proper foothold, perilously gripping right now to the side of a mountain as he tried to look for a proper way to hold on. Of course, he would soon gain the right foothold, and he’d be on his way to the top. That was pretty much ruling this land with a Daemonic fist, maybe not the entire land but the entire country of Connlaoth sounded good right about now.
Don’t strive too high.
The higher you go, the longer you have to fall.
Slits for pupils looked skyward for a moment, up toward the sun that was slowly being covered with clouds. What was it with rain in this place? Granted he wasn’t fond of the sun, it being too hot and much to bright, painful to his skin after living in darkness and near fire or brimstone but still, there was always rain to go around here. He wondered if there were mages out there trying to screw around with the weather and annoy the people of Connlaoth. That would have been interesting…bothersome weather witches and such trying to get back at Connlaoth. He gave a curt smile to a passer-by, someone he recognized as being a user of one of his drugs. RB Kent, the Reality drug, a potent little pharmaceutical that let the user enter a dream world where they could do anything. Just…they never knew when they came OFF the drug. A lot of people’s dreams of course were simply being in the current world, just much better off.
He gave a small chuckle, quite proud of that one. His hands went to his large slate grey trench coat, pulling the garment tighter around himself to stop any part of him from being shown. If people knew that a seven foot tall Daemon Lord was walking around, they might serve to call the police or some such thing. Couldn’t have that now could he? His hat was secure upon his head, covering his face in darkness, and his hands were hidden inside the sleeves of his jacket. Perfect as usual. Thankfully his coat when down past his legs, just barely hovering above the ground, but low enough to hide his claw like feet. People were none the wiser to him, they just thought he was an overly strange person when they saw him, and some had no idea what a Daemon was for that matter. They weren’t into the occult and magical world, so Demons and Daemon Lords got left out. It had been perfect right from the start.
Now the question on his mind was where to go…where to hide from what would be the rain?
Ah.
A seedy tavern in the poor side of town.
Then again, he always stayed in the poor side of town. No one really cared about this place too much. The poor were always forgotten in a medieval society like this. Not that he cared about these people; he was interested in their so called betters. Nudging the door open with his hand he stepped inside and grinned wide, his teeth flashing in the low light. A seedy bar, chock full of addicts and whores, his best friends. No drug addicts though, just people who wanted to get wasted on alcohol. Such a shame really. The large figure moved over to the bar counter, straddling one of the barstools and tapping a long finger on the bar counter.
“Ale.� His voice was deep, low, a heavy baritone with a growl in the throat as he spoke. It didn’t take too long for a mug to appear in front of him, his hand coming out to coil around glass, lifting it to his mouth to take a drink. Of course, taking a drink for him meant draining the cup dry. A bit of steam exited his mouth as he audibly burped, wiping the side of his mouth with his sleeve before putting a few coppers on the counter, and of course, leaving a few small pills. That was his currency really, his drugs, giving them out at every chance he had. Turning his back to the bartender, he felt content to look around in this place. It was the epitome of temptation. Whores, drunks, alcoholic beverages, illicit substances, everybody here was being tempted by something, and getting their temptation fulfilled…it was good. Oh yes.
It was good.
