Boris Devilboon had always been an inept summoner.
A permanent scowl etched on his face as he dismissively cleared legions of small devils off his desk like animated clutter, Boris bent to the task of poring through ancient grimoires and channeling the power of artifacts and tawdry talismans to fuel his newest experiment.
Gathering mana was no issue for the wizard, but fueling it into something useful? Therein lay his problem. Time and again the undead lord would pool his mana and be rewarded with a small red devil, about the size of a common beeble, and about as threatening.
''Better left for the altar'' he'd sneer at the gibbering creature, joining its numerous kin littering the halls of the Devilboon manor. ''Devilboon'' He'd introspectively curse under his breath. How cruel and mocking such a name seemed now. Perhaps he should have adopted a more regal moniker. Demonboon had a nice ring to it.
''Summon Endrek! I demand to see him at once!'' Boris cried to no one in particular. In life, Boris was accustomed to being heard and obeyed at all times, his every whim a command. Now, in undeath, his servants unfortunate enough to remain in his thrall were little more than crawling corpses and the ever-growing pile of small, gibbering devils.
Whether or not he heard the command, or if by pure happenstance, Endrek Sahr strode purposefully into Boris' chambers, with a stance of pride and regality which were at odds with the nature of his foul work. Boris hated the man. His gaunt, impassive face, his soulless gray eyes. Boris was certain that Endrek's living flesh was far colder and clammier than his own rotting shell.
Yet Endrek did provide a valuable service to Boris, that of a multitude of living bodies to experiment and fuel his dark work for when his autocrats couldnt conscript enough of the local serfs. He also appreciated the speed with which Endrek could produce his thrulls. In turn, Endrek appreciated the speed with which he could acquire wealth from Boris' coffers.
''Ah Sahr, punctual as always.'' Boris said with a hint of sarcasm tainting his voice. ''I need you to-''
''I've come with news.'' Endrek said, cutting off Boris with little ceremony. Yet another reason to hate the man, Boris thought. So lacking in social graces. ''We have a visitor.''
Boris stopped cold in his tracks, the interruption forgotten. If he still drew breath, he would have held it sharply. ''I trust you've not told the others.'' Boris all but whispered.
''No,'' Endrek replied smoothly. ''Your coin buys my thrulls and my silence.''
Boris kept many mages in his employ. An ophiomancer he admired for his unorthodox summoning, a haruspex who managed to recycle some of the more unsavory creations, and a strange woman who called herself a ''Rakdos Blood Witch'', whatever that meant, whom Boris would have fancied as a consort in a previous life.
There were mages who could create life from living flame and earth, vampires who sought visions from the innards of the living, and entrepreneurs who, forgoing paint, would create fine art from warm blood of the fallen. Each was paid handsomely from the Devilboon estate, as what use does one have for money when life is no longer a concern?
Yet Boris trusted none of them, save Endrek. Especially when visitors arrived.
''Then let us greet this visitor.'' Boris said with a cruel smile.
--
Together they descended down into the darkest depths of the Devilboon manor, an ostentatious castle built within a river of magma. Boris always had a taste for visual flair.
The crypts somehow managed to be dark and chill to the bone, even with the flowing molten rock a mere stone's throw away from the walls. Boris was comfortable with his advanced state of undeath, yet wondered how Endrek could possibly stand spending his time down here doing gods know what. Such things were not his concern today, however.
Today, they had a visitor.
Visitors were few and far between, and Boris was never sure how Endrek managed to find them. Add that to the list of reasons to hate the ''mighty'' Endrek. Boris should be the one to summon visitors, it should be Boris who commanded their fealty, Boris who-
''You may want to show caution with this one'' Endrek said coolly, interrupting Boris' reverie.
''I pay you for your talents, Sahr, not your counsel. I will not be commanded within my own home!'' Boris snapped.
''Very well.'' Endrek replied, a little too slowly for Boris' liking. Both were used to this exchange, each knowing nothing would be different the next time.
If there was a next time.
Each time there was a visitor to Devilboon manor, bargains were struck, sacrifices made, and inevitably, Boris' standing was exactly the same as it was before. ''Not this time,'' Boris said to himself. Endrek knew his employer was prone to speaking to himself, and said nothing.
Reaching the final step, Boris took a moment to groom himself. Endrek too, was used to this ritual, never commenting that visitors cared little if Boris remaining hair was parted, his cloak smoothed, his rotting smile presentable.
With a puff of his chest, Boris stepped forward to meet his visitor at last, only to falter after meeting its gaze. This visitor was not like the others.
A long sinuous body like a worm ended in a vaguely humanoid mockery of a torso. Long clawed hands steeped calmly in front of a predators snout, lorded over by eyes with not only cunning and intelligence, but an unusual age and wisdom. Boris was prepared for malice and cruelty. This was something more.
Collecting his wits, Boris swept his arm before him with a flourish. ''I-''
''That will not be necessary.'' The visitor said abruptly. ''Pomp and circumstance are quite tiring.''
Sputtering with indignation, Boris cast about for a retort.
''I know who you are, what you want, and I am prepared to help you.'' It said with a smooth voice with a surprising amount of warmth. Boris, having arrived at a desired insult, was again caught off guard, and searched frantically for another.
Visitors never spoke first. They never offered their services without first arranging a deal, much like those swindlers at the black market. They also never caught him unawares.
''I demand to hear it then,'' Boris exclaimed, trying to regain control of the conversation. ''Tell me my heart's desire, so that we may broker a deal.'' In the past he'd run afoul of bad exchanges, assuming too much of his valued guests.
''You wish to return to the living.'' The demon purred smoothly. ''You wish to feel the warmth of the sun, the comfort of touch, the-''
''NO!'' Boris shrieked angrily. It was now the demon's turn to be caught unawares. ''I want, no, DEMAND to rule! To rule over those like you, to create those like you!'' Endrek stared impassively as always, used to this particular rant.
''I am cursed to create pathetic shadows of you, not even worthy of my presence!'' he said, his hands angrily gesturing the familiar motions of a summon spell. With an abrupt swipe of his hand, the spell reached its crescendo, and from nothing came a small red devil, a pitiful comparison to the massive demon before it.
A deep chuckling stirred Boris from his tirade. ''You must forgive me, I so rarely misinterpret ones intentions, especially given your current...composition.'' the Demon said eyeing his host as if he were a bauble on a shelf. ''But you amuse me. I shall grant you what you wish, Boris, Lord of Demons.''
''Demonboon! Boris cried angrily.
''Yes. Demonboon.'' The demon purred. ''Now, the terms of this arrangement''
''Whatever you desire, demon'' Boris hissed with venom. ''No price is too high!''
''Kothophed, if you will. Demon sounds so impartial, dont you think?'' Kothophed enjoyed watching Boris' face twist with impatience. ''But I can see I'm losing you. Very well. I desire...'' he said, casting his eyes about the room. Truth be told, Kothophed wanted for nothing. He simply humored this rite to slake his boredom.
''Him.'' Kothophed's finger extended toward Endrek, who for the first time in his life, held a surprised look on his face.
''Done!'' Boris said before even seeing the direction of the demon's desire, already imagining himself, a grand summoner of demons, feared by all.
Endrek didnt have time to scream before he was whisked away into the nether, a victim to whatever cruel ideas his new master had in store. And with his passing, a silence fell upon the room.
--
The demon was gone. Endrek was gone. Boris was alone.
He didnt intend to keep it that way for long.
With great effort, Boris began to pull from the mountains and peaks. The swamps and bogs. Slaughterhouses, talismans, artifacts, the souls of the slain, all the mana he could wrest from land, creature, and construct he gathered into himself, and began to fuel his spell.
The mana coalesced inside the hollow cavity where his heart once beat, and for a moment, he felt as if a living man again. With a cry of triumph, Boris unleashed his spell to a thunderous explosion of sound and fury so bright he reflexively recoiled and shielded his eyes.
Lowering his hand slowly, savoring every moment, Boris prepared to meet the gaze of a demon, HIS demon, for the first time.
His eyes met those whom he had created, boiling with malice and cruelty, nothing like the insipid and childish eyes of his devils. Yet, something was wrong. This creature was small. Very small. As small as his prior creations. One could be forgiven for mistaking the two, save for the mix of black in addition to red on this new creature.
Panic set in, and Boris hastily redoubled his efforts to form another spell which ended in the same result, again and again. These new creatures could rightfully be mistaken for demons...should one view them from afar.
His cries of indignation and fury could be heard from the same distance.
