Demon's Kiss (Player Post - Olo Silver)

Olo closed the door behind him and then, after a moment of consideration, flipped the latch close to lock the door. It was late in the evening but the chorus laughter and revelry from down below was enough to cause concern. All it took was one wayward wandering soldier to stumble into the room and cause a stir. He listened at the door for any change in the noise - there was none; the revelry continued below. He was new enough to this collection of brave companions that he would not be missed. It wasn't that Olo didn't feel welcomed in the group but he knew they were still hesitant. Their newest arrival, the self-proclaimed inter-planar arbitrator of justice was drawing more of their attention as the vigilante justicar had a knack for dragging them all into trouble. Fortunately Meraki, their slow-moving but quick-witted Loxodon forgemaster had taken it upon himself to take the man in. They shared some commonality which Olo hadn't fully understood. Something about the 'Vigil' and a 'Warden'. It was all nonsense to him but he was just happy that Kaeru could be brought into the fold. He was becoming - reckless.
"Rot in darkness," Olo swore as he recalled his encounter with the succubus. He still believed he could have broke her. Delved out one of her names or monikers - something to exacerbate a bit of control. That had all ended when Kaeru plunged a thorning dagger into her head. It had left them vastly unprepared for the tower beyond. The dark warlock responsible for the atrocities, Arietta Graves, had nearly killed Mazekk, Kaeru, and himself and were it not for the blood bond between the warlock and those spined-monstrosities the creatures would have ripped them to pieces and then only the Gods know what havoc would have been reaved on the region. It concerned Olo, how unprepared the people of the Storm Mountains were of such calamity. There were factions and organizations tasked with investigating and monitoring demonic incursions. The fact that Graves had gotten as close as she did was concerning to say the least.

What interested him though was how she did it? How she, an adept but by no means master practitioner, had managed to get so far. The binding of those demons alone would have been an incredibly complex ritual let alone whatever foul machinations she had to perform to summon the demon master himself. How had she done it? Why had she done it? All these questions remained unanswered. The answers to those questions - lay in a leather pouch on the desk. The bag looked relatively simple. Small black leather bag with red stitching. He had taken it from her, surreptitiously, after driving his rapier deep into her gut. He had taken a quick look inside at the Fist of Scarwood and saw a spellbook, what appeared to be a wand of some kind, and then some minor spell regents. Olo supposed he felt a little bad for the guile and dishonesty; however spellbooks were extremely valuable to wizards and frankly he didn't entirely trust his companions yet to let him prosecute the knowledge in good faith. The last thing he needed was Kaeru trying to burn the blighting thing before he could even read it or Aethulian trying to fence it for a quick gold piece.

He sat down at the table and exhaled. Closing his eyes to center himself. He had to tread carefully. Whatever foul and sinister fiends had called Graves down her dark path would likely try to do the same to him. He needed to remain vigilant - get what he needed from the book and get out. He stopped himself, and then quickly warded the room and himself with a protection spell. The boons those spells had provided him in his last encounter with demons had saved his and Mazekk's lives - it wouldn't pay to be careless now. Happy with the security and foundation of the wards and with one last resolved sniff, he quickly opened the bag and pulled out the spellbook.

It was quite simple. A blackened leather binding with no ornamentation. The pages were old and crinkled, as if bloated from once being wet. He flipped open the book and began to quickly skim through the pages. He frowned at the symbols, their twisting and gnarled serifs completely unreadable. Muttering to himself he waved his hands over the book and cast a quick spell to comprehend infernal. The glyphs and sigils quivered and then warbled into new shapes, becoming elvish words - some he could understand and some just an illegible mess. The spell was never perfect and some iterations of words were written in ciphers which even his magics couldn't decode sensibly. He delved into the book and began to draw in as much information as he could. After nearly thirty minutes of paused and then looked up with a frown - the information all seemed so mundane. There was nothing in there he didn't already know. No forbidden lore or rituals. It was all basic lore and general nonsense. There were some regents he hadn't considered for certain spells but his proxies could have accomplished the same effect; potentially a small enumeration of efficiency but nothing more. Sighing he began to thumb through the book in search of anything of value.
"Disappointed?" a woman's voice purred behind him. Olo yelped and jumped back, falling out of his chair as he clumsily tried to draw his rapier. He fell onto his back as he tried to turn and stared in awe and horror and the female figure lounging on his bed. A tall woman was draped, quite seductively, across his bed. She had pale grey skin, like the slate grey of a stone, and bone white hair. Her eyes were solid black, deep dark pools of black pitch which seemed to draw him in deeper the longer he stared. She was wearing deep red bands of clothes wrapped around her lithe and supple curves in a manner which left little to the imagination. Infernal runes and sigils were tattooed onto her skin in a myriad of complex patterns which seemed almost disappointingly asymmetrical - like they were so close to being perfect but were off in the slightest way which hurt his head to stare at them for too long; confounding his own understanding of reality. Her skin was painted in a darker blood red in some parts, the entire top of her head to part of her shaved scalp covered like a fiendish warpaint. She would have looked human, or at least near human, were it not for the sleek horns jutting from her forehead and wrapping back against her head. She smiled at Olo, biting her lip playfully, and one of her large dark irisless eyes winked.
"Sorry there's nothing else in there - other than me of course," she cooed.