Chapter 110: 108. Impish

Appreciative sounds and the clattering of wooden spoons on wooden bowls greet you as you arrive at Charlemagne's tavern. Sand and Charlemagne glance your way from their position by the passageway to the kitchen proper, but before long their eyes are drawn back to the source of the noise.

In the far corner, sat directly on one of the tables, two hunger imps are surrounded by a small mountain of empty bowls, apparently licked clean. They share Keth's appearance – ugly, purple skinned and winged humanoids with a paunch on an otherwise thin frame. They do differ however, once your eyes roam over their heads. Both appear to be male, but twisted features currently in a demon approximation of a satisfied smile as yet more of the seemingly bottomless stew vanishes into their maws, but the one sat slightly closer to you has a short tuft of hair on top of his head, sticking wildly in every direction. Unfortunately, in his enthusiasm for eating, a not inconsiderable amount of gravy has ended up caught in it.

You look away.

The second lacks hair, like Keth does, but a small horn juts from his left temple. He's eating with slightly more restraint than his companion, picking up bowls and pouring them into his mouth rather than the double fisted 'throw food at my face and hope' method.

There's no sign of the lust imp, which makes your hackles rise. Something doesn't sit right with you there.

You approach them and, when they make no indication of having noticed you, clear your throat.

The murmurs of satisfaction cease as both imps swivel their heads to you. Stew drips onto the table form a still upraised bowl. You hear Charlemagne sigh behind you.

The haired imp leaps to his feet, a broad smile forcing its way onto his face. You suppress a wince. You quite like Keth, he works hard and adds some magical support your lair didn't really have before, and it's not an issue with Sith and her evolved form, but hunger imps really are hideous. Seeing one smile is a genuinely uncomfortable experience as wrinkled cheeks twist and contort, black gums and yellowed teeth exposing themselves like a man in a trench coat.

“Ah! Excellent!” the imp's voice is smarmy, grating, as he looks you up and down. “You'd be the one in charge here then? We've come to join up under your worshipful malevolence, my evil liege!”

The horned imp stands more slowly. “Our last boss has unfortunately ceased to be worshipful, and thus we found ourselves in need of evil employment rather unexpectedly.” His voice is smoother, less accented than the other, but significantly higher in pitch. He continues.

“There we were, mulling over our life choices in a particular tavern that we frequent on our rare visits back home, when we hear a rumour-”

Hairy cuts in, bumping his hip against his friends to silence him, “A rumour of a rumour, if we're being honest your malevolence, more like the absence of a rumour that we'd expect, something more akin to not hearing something you'd expect to and-”

He's cut of by horny, with an irritated expression, “Being the smart sort, I worked out that, if a lot of hunger imps are in need of employment, most would end up back home for a while, but there was a name or two-”

“Or eight or nine if we're being totally honest-”

“Yes, thank you. Several names that we'd expect to have heard about, but low and behold there was no sign. Being capable of adding two and two and getting four, I thought I might convince my less mathematical friend here-”

“I can do maths! It's my language that's not up to snuff. No good at metaphors.”

“Quite. That my friend here may like to jump at the possibility of slipping into an organisation that may be willing to take one a few dispossessed imps of a hungry disposition.”

“But don't go thinking I won't be pulling my weight just because it was his idea, oh dark master! It was me who found out where the missing imps had been seen last, and where they'd be likely to go. The first lead turned out to be nothing, but once we got close to here we could nearly taste the delicious demonic energy practically pouring from your castle of vile designs. It was easy to find you then, a dark beacon of unholy power the likes of which we've never seen before! How it can't be felt echoing across the infernal realms is just more proof of your magnificence!”

“It seemed like we were in luck when we were met by one of our missing brethren at the gate, but one only. A perfect situation where we had proof of your willingness to work with our kind but have not yet had a glut of imps lesser than we to slake your demonic thirst with. Thus, our proposition.”

Hunger Imp would like to join your Lair!

Hunger Imp would like to join your Lair!

You wave off the notifications and focus on the imps. Honestly, you can see no reason not to accept them. They obviously work well together, and their antics were at least somewhat amusing. More demons for the second floor is just what you need.

“I have a condition.”

Both imps, whose faces had been set in politely hopeful expressions, glance at each other. Immediately, their guard comes up.

“Ah.”

“What conditions are those?”

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You shake your head. “Nothing too onerous, I assure you. This dungeon is still new, but I am already tired of losing friends to the Heroes. If you want to join, you're going to get a name. It will bind you to me. If you die, you will respawn here. You won't lose memories or levels. In many ways it's an upgrade.”

The horned imp nods slowly. “What's the catch?”

“If I am removed from the cycle, if the gods decide my time is done, you will all suffer the same fate. We're bound, till the end. If you decide you hate it here, that you want to leave and never return, I won't stop you. But should you die you'll wake up here once more. And no matter how far you go, your life is still tied to mine.”

You stare at them impassibly for several seconds.

Then the hairy one shrugs. “Sure.”

You relax, fractionally.

“What names do you want?”

The two imps back away for a moment, conferring with each other while you accept their invitations.

The imp with hair is the first to straighten form their hushed conversation.

“Your dark majesty, I would be called Luss, if it pleases your infernal wisdom.”

You nod, confirming it, and turn your attention to the other. His response is shorter.

“Ziff, I think.”

You nod again.

“I was also told you arrived with a Lust imp?”

Luss shakes his head. “Not arrived with my overlord, more...”

Ziff takes over after a short pause, “More happened to arrive at the same time. We happened upon each other no more than half a mile from here, well onto the mountain itself. No idea what happened to her once we got food though.”

A new voice sounds behind you, soft and sultry.

“That would be my cue, I think.”

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