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Argast Wyrdseeker     Amongst the mountains, a flurry of activity was being seen. Argast and his warband were setting up for their massive undertaking. In a few days time, they would execute the ultimate ritual, and with the ultimate bait, call forth a deamon of Tzeench and strike a bargain with it. Some locals made the foolish choice of trying to report it, and were now being used to paint the binding circle along the ground by the marauders. Argast himself was flanked by a pair of marauders, though one had recently been granted his own set of chaos armor, making him now as a chosen. "Good.....soon our ally shall bring the rest of our bait and we will set our trap."
Razel     And this activity has gotten some attention, too! The silhouettes of human-sized beings with pointed ears and long, lashing tails might have been seen, fleeing away from the scene with supernatural grace and speed. There's been no interference from these odd beings. But this night there's something new. It's a presence. Not of the strange feline beings. Invisible and silent, it nonetheless brims with power. And rage. Might the eyes of Khorne have fallen upon the site of the sacrifice-to-be?
Argast Wyrdseeker     "Hmm...Are we gifted by the presence of a deamon of Khorne? I can feel such infinite rage." Argast muses, raising up a hand. Along his gauntlet, whisps of chaotic magic jumps. His chosen looks around, spinning his spiffy new greataxe in his hands. "Perhaps, Lord Argast. But I doubt it. Call it forth." The chosen says. For Razel, the chosen would stand out like some kind of buffet for the rage-leech.
Razel     Spiffy greataxe is indeed spiffy! And that rage is quite the delight, too. At least, for Razel. But he is aware that his presence has been noticed. And so he decides to go introduce himself. A blazing sigil appears in the air, just for a moment, and the form of the tall, muscular Devil of Wrath seems to pass forward, through it.

    He is in the air at first, but descends as the sigil disappears, seeming almost as though he were descending an invisible staircase without having to move his legs. "I appear to have startled you." He offers a bow to Argast and his chosen, is tail curling up at the end as he does. "I am Razel. The Devil of Wrath." He shows no fear in revealing this, as he figures the heroic type wouldn't be using people to paint a summoning circle.
Argast Wyrdseeker     "Devil of Wrath, you say? Be welcome, Razel. I am Argast Wyrdseeker, Sorceror Lord of Chaos. You have come upon us as we prepare for a grand ritual." Argast says, seeming quite pleased at their guest. He motions towards the human shaped paint buckets and grins. "But our poor victims here are merely the bait...This circle will supply the true fuel. Hero energy, hero life force...The deamons of Tzeench shall feast well, and we will reach a fine bargain."
Razel     Razels straightens again as Argast introduces himself. And then outlines his plan. The rage demon looks at the setup. Listens to the plan. And a smile curves at the corner of his mouth. One gets the feeling that this is a major thing, as his expression had remained utterly neutral and nigh-unreadable up until then.

    "That, is a wonderful plan," he remarks. "To use the oh-so-predictable nature of those most bright and shining of souls to fuel the very thing they seek to stop." A quiet chuckle, full of dark humor. "I foresee such wonderful impotent rage to be had."
Argast Wyrdseeker     Argast laughs and nods. "Yes....The gods of chaos will feed well." He says. The chosen walks over, and lets Razel enjoy his rage. "It is also ironic. To use purity to summon forth such corrupted power. But Tzeench delights in such things." As they speak, the warriors in blue continue to paint, and are chanting words in an undecipherable language, and drawing strange runes.
Razel     Razel keeps himself out of the way of the painters as they form the circle-- and also out of the circle, since he doesn't want to be fed himself to this 'Tzeench'. Gods of other worlds were an unknown, and he isn't about to make a mistake like that.

    However he does remain near as the chosen steps closer, and the smile remains as well. Rage, after all, is his bread and butter. There are so many sources of such strong rage in the Multiverse. And corrupted rage always tastes all the sweeter.

    "Ah, in deception?" he inquires, of the note that Tzeench delights in plans like this. "It is remarkably and delightfully ironic," he remarks.
Argast Wyrdseeker Hisrgast nods. "Tzeench is the lord of change and of fate. Subtlety is his watchword." He explains. He motions for Razel to follow him away from the circle. "I know nothing of you though, Razel. I gather the felines are your servants?" He asks of the creatures.
Razel     Razel nods. "They are," he confirms. "They too can sense rage, if it is very strong. Very likely the taking of those now providing the... decoration." The irony is clear in the word 'decoration'. "I specified they were not to interfere, that I would investigate this myself. I must say, I'm pleased to see there are still those who can conbine ingenuity and ruthlessness so effectively."
Argast Wyrdseeker     "It is something we followers of the Raven God are fond of. Though your followers are quite welcome to join us. Our camp is open to you and your servants." He says, looking over where the portal was being set up. "I admit to some fear...That the deamon will reject and try to consume me, or simply not arrive..."
Razel     "Thank you." Razel bows his head in respect. The voicing of the concerns however, draws a nod. "That is a worry. Speaking as one who has made such contracts in the past, I do admit to using deception to my benefit as well. If you drain the strength from the heroes, you will have less to worry from them should the being you summon choose to reject you. If it attempts to consume you, could you simply leave the site by whatever means you have? If the heroes are drained, your Tzeench will be able to vent his indignation upon them."
Argast Wyrdseeker     "My gods can be quite fickle. They may choose to favor me, or play a joke and humiliate me. I hope that the power drain will please him." Argast says, thinking aloud. He then walks to the alter and sets down his staff on the top. "Then...if it works...deamonic symbiosis...A union of man and deamon...such power would be mine."
Razel     Razel looks a bit surprised at the goal, as his eyebrows rise slightly. "An Alter? You seek your god's Alter?" he inquires. A terminology from his own world, very likely. Nonetheless he forges on, "Would that give your god a means to control you in exchange for that power?"
Argast Wyrdseeker     "Tzeench can already control me, through the threads of fate. This alter was made for this ritual." Argast explains. He slides his hand over the sigil of Tzeench and grins. "But I suppose that this will bring me closer to his ancient plan, and to true deamonhood."
Razel     Razel listens to this, and tilts his head inquisitively. "Your world works much different than mine," he admits. He pauses. "I can sense the capacity for great anger in this. I will offer my assistance in the ritual, if I can." He opens a hand, palm flat in the air, and his blazing sigil appears in miniature over the opened palm, floating in the air. "Picture this sigil and call me by name, and I will come to your aid. Beware, I will ask for recompense. For your ritual, I wish to consume the impotent rage of the heroes as they see their purity and strength used to summon your god."
Argast Wyrdseeker     Argast nods and commits the name and sigil to mind. "I shall. My thanks, Razel." He says, grinning under his helmet quite darkly.