Maqi fluttered madly down the halls. He had some important news to tell and flew through Abyrimoch as fast as his little wings could fly him. The imp flew though the maze of passages, past the inhabitants of the vast fortress that was the capital of the fourth plane of hell. “Mistress! Mistress!” he cried as he flew into the vast throne room. Inside the room a variety of attractive slaves danced erotically for their Mistress, the Lady Fierna. She was watching them, breathing hard with glazed look on her face. Fierna was flanked by two massive hell hounds who growled at the imps approach.
“What is it?” she said somewhat perturbed at the sudden interruption. She threw the imp a look that could melt stone as Maqi landed on the armrest. He gulped, all of the sudden he wasn’t to sure it was important as he thought he was. “Well?” Fierna said as she snapped her fingers and the dancers stopped, frozen in place and afraid to move.
“Morta is dead,” he said. “I can not find him and I went up to the tower where he is keeping your collection. There was signs of a fight.”
“So,” she said with a blank look on her face. Sure the loss of Morta was really not one that really bothered her. She was about to snap her fingers and let the dancers start their erotic dance again, but not for what the imp said next. “Well... several of your trophies are missing.” She narrowed her eyes and the smell of brimstone became more prevalent. She grabbed the imp by the throat. “What was that?” she hissed.
The imp whined. “Mercy Mistress,” he squealed. “Six or seven of your trophies have gone missing. There was evidence that a ritual was used,” he said as she squeezed. “You have a traitor...”
“Fetch me some trackers!” she roared as she threw the little imp in front of a hell hound who growled hungrily at the imp.