Editing Midnight RPG - Chapter 14.43 (section)

== Belal ==
...shuddering and afraid the imp is clearly disturbed...  perhaps not hearing much of Zal'Kazzir's intention.  The tiny negotiator cautions his new MASTER...

"... forgive me ma-MASTER...!   As I have spoke afore please PLEASE let me talk plainly now.  I mean not to abash you but what you say, the words that come from your mouth.  I fear you KNOW NOT the power of the words you speak.  I fear you lay your dictum lightly.  Too lightly for the power that they contain!  Forgive MASTER but I must say - please.  Do not speak in such terms."  calming itself, the advisor covers his dagger toothed mouth - then working his long spindly fingers up along his head finally covering its eyes before unveiling them to expand on the tone that quite frankly surprised himself...


'''''"...Those words... they... they are blasphemous and would insight beatings on even the most staunch of Shadow Kings, ma-lord.  And the dance... what know you of a 'dance of ruin'??  For if you blindly spoke of such a think, I fear that destiny is finding us once more.  Perhaps we, good-MASTER, were fated to meet.  For that very thing.  That 'Dance of Ruin' is something that I have tried to forget.  It was one of mine-own kin among the Outsiders that dared dance not long ago to bring ruin to the woodland people.  The beast for which the Vile made pact with, danced such a thing and in doing so it devoured its own kind to become one such as that of the misguided and damned elf-kind that the Vile decorated his Spire with to taunt your orc-bread companion and Eranon the elf-kind into swarming the Black Nail.  It danced the dance to BECOME the elf called Valendil following the Vile's speaking with him after death.  The Vile has ways of learning the deepest secrets and so he did with the kin of your elf-companion.  Even the Witch Queen would not be able to resist the un-Arythly abilities of the seer when he put his questions to the corpse.  I knew not who you were prior, I knew not what the meaning of the questions for which the Vile gave the elf-corpse... But now I see.  His mark, the secret language of the elven-trackers...  The Vile and his pact-made demon spawn used this, did he not?  To draw you here...  I see the puzzle laid down now.  Insidious.  I must beg you MASTER, watch your way when winding near the vrok-beast...  Tread lightly and speak softly ma-lord.  I should not wish to see you dead and giving up your secrets to the Vile's sight..."'''''


...seeing the little imp's fear flee from him as if he washed it away when speaking it aloud, the newly anointed Belal, quickly changes it's demeanor and ablely tumbles into another conversation that he had wanted to speak too...

'''''"My MASTER... you spoke to the mentally-touched Erenlander before, you spoke of lacking the wizardly might.  You spoke of subtlety and sly method more akin to court and salon.  You spoke of no fire on your finger-tips, nor transmogrification at your calling, nor levitation beneath your feet...  I fell in jest within my heart when you taunted lord-Shadaar of your cooking ability, your passable prose - while noting you lacked potion-lore and scroll ensorcering...  You speak well my MASTER.  You give your companions just enough to whet their conversation pallets, but only hint at your true ability.  You tease them with your true mastery of wordsmithing, by calling point to your fallacies.  This I see as a powerful ally.  I can only hope that you can offer your insight to my tongue and should you be open to advice I shall offer you the same.'''''

'''''... in fact, something I can offer ma-lord... something that I should ask you for your needs on.  I have already learned so much from the words and actions of your compatriates.  I feel it only my duty to compel that we, together, should begin to compile informations on those that surround your court-to-be.  I should like to offer you this.... the first bit of bobbles for our collection on the internals of those that which we walk...'''''  as the imp looks devilishly around in the direction of Durgaz, who seems to be trying on armors and helms of the Vile's collection.


'''''... I have this ma-lord.  The orc.  Durgaz, the mirror-killer...  He has told me that he cannot be tempted with the flesh of elf.  A woodland princess, he said, would not make marry in his bed.  While he tried to compell me that he WOULD NOT lie with an elven-lady, his true mind spoke to me.  Should we find one that would see the beast for the man that his is... Nay... for the man he hopes to become...  Should we find a mate for him of the woodland realm, we could have his heart and soul.  He says he wants NONE of it.  But his heart screams for the love of a nature-queen.  Give him a heart that will walk with him, make him believe her heart is free and you will have his soul... I can feel this true.'''''  The imp looks to see how Zal'Kazzir takes this interesting tidbit of a tool, before continuing...

'''''... the mirror-killer also spoke of not needing acclaim, not wanting the tales of his legend to be spread.  He spoke of the triviality of songs and poems made in his honor.  But I can see with my spying-eye a glimpse of pride that COULD be exploited... Nay, cultivated!  Were we to inspire and enhance such tales, without his knowledge - but yet so that it WOULD return to him with kind, I am sure that you would have some sway over his inner mind.  His pride is stronger than he thinks it is...  and it will lead directly to his hidden love as I noted before...  were we to build tales of his prowess and legend he would even further believe that, even an ensorcerored elven-princess, his orc-hide COULD flutter a woodland heart.'''''  ....twisting his fingers, arms behind his hunched back...


'''''... ma-lord, your orc companion's heart is hurt.  I should caution you that if you like, you might attempt to have him council with you - but do not make use directly of these words.  For if you were to do that, my own dipomatic insurtion into his heart will be blocked.  I suggest that you use my findings to ask questions of your own, while I continue my delving into the newly brightened heart of the Shadow-minion turned traitor to his kind...  Consider this tale of horror he poured from his heart to my ear...  Consider it and consider how he is begging for a confidant to share his hate and hellish deeds with.  I believe he is giving that to me, I offer it to you, to ensure his loyalty ma-MASTER...  Durgaz Mirror-Breaker spoke of a story of the time that he and five orc under his command captured two elfish scouts, a husband and wife, seven miles outside of Zorgetch. Of how he kept them, sending the elf-kind one at a time into each town they passed, instructing them to enter the town and beg for shelter, then come back and tell the orcen-hoard who had obliged, or they would kill the other elf. They then descended upon the town, dragged those whom the elves had named from their homes, and lashed them to death in the town square. Durgaz did this for nearly a half year, until one day while the male had been sent scouting, Naarghash, the orc who was charged with watching the woman, instead raped and killed her; and the male, upon his return, went mad with grief and rage and had to be killed in turn.'''''

'''''He then spoke the name Valendil, the one of elven-make that died today, after being captured, held and tortured into unlife by my previous master, the Vile. He spoke of Velendil as a close friend, that Valendil had led a band of brave elves with a hand that was wise and true, and that he did many great things, among them extending that hand to Durgaz when he was still struggling free of the darkness, and how he felt Valendial died in a manner horribly unbefitting to one of his stature.  Durgaz spoke of how it was Velendil, not he that deserved honor and memory.  Forgive me, ma-lord but this ... pathetic heart-string, while seeming sincere, is only acknowledgement of my previous ascertation that the orc seeks redemption both through the love and acceptance of elf-kind and his admonishment of his former friend, whom he HIMSELF killed - did he not??.  His speak of the elf, smacks of a misplaced pride.  Oh, no... he seeks the love of elf-kind and the songs and poems of his own deeds, no matter how much he says he does not.  This I know true.  How then ma-lord, shall I continue weaving the ways of diplomacy with the others my MASTER?...'''''  ...Belal looks to you and for a moment Zal'Kazzir can see the fact that THIS is a demon for which he is dealing with.  But then soon that devious tingle moves from the bulbous eyes of the little aid and he seeks guidence from his new MASTER.