Deep in the cavernous underground banquet hall, he pushed looked at the glass of wine sullenly and pushed it away for the second time, attempting a menacing look. It wasn't his strong suit. He actually would have liked a drink to get him though this evening but if it was sent by who he thought, then he wasn't interested. Instead he tried to pay attention to the king's speech directed at the lords and ladies of the demon court. It was taking forever and a day as he went on about the accomplishments of his generals in the latest battle. Not easy listening for the man whom everyone called "the king's disappointment."
Astaroth certainly looked the part of a typical demon. His face was pale and cruel, set with dark red eyes like garnets, passed down from the royal line of his mother, unlike the black eyes normally found on most of his kin. He was tall with the branding of powerful spells burned into his skin. Carrying the scars on his body was a small price to pay for the protection they offered though he had never excelled working magic itself. Despite all this and being born the king's son, he was an utter failure at being a demon, preferring to read or anything else really over making war against the Angel army. He wasn't particularly vicious for a demon either. His only real weapons were his caustic sense of humor and sharp mind.
This was of course, an intolerable embarrassment for his father who ignored him, and to his sister who took advantage of every opportunity to attempt to murder him and take his place in line for the throne. It was mostly for this reason he turned down that glass of wine. Being poisoned had been no fun the first time she tried it. There was a lot of pain and foaming at the mouth ending with a long stay in the infirmary. He couldn't prove anything but they all knew who had done it and they all saw he hadn't retaliated. Of course he'd tried but failed quickly with no allies. No one would stand against his sister, not with her reputation, so it was only a matter of time he supposed until she won. Still, he didn't plan on making it easy for her. He hoped the speech was almost over.
"...in that the enemy's front line was broken and the hit was executed boldly by General Surgat's incredible strategy we were able to gain ground," the King continued.
Everyone turned to look at Surgat, the amazon size woman reclining in the seat nearest the throne, scarred head to toe in battle runes. Kneeling obediently on the floor was her new pet, a tiny blonde thing with big soft eyes and long lashes. She was bound up in some kind of strappy leather bondage harness and nothing else. Her mistress was raking what could only be described as claws across her tender breasts with the other hand holding a tight grip on her leash and collar. It was difficult to tell whether the lower demon shuddered in pleasure or pain but it was of no importance really. Once General Surgat took an interest in someone they endured until she was tired of playing with them or they died under mysterious and horrific circumstances.
"Thank you, your majesty," she said, smiling smugly, "I will take a hundred more during our next battle."
The roars of approval from the crowd echoed off the stone walls of the chamber until they were signaled to silence by the king and settled down.
"I am sure General Surgat will be good to her word," he paused,"...and there is an even greater advantage we have taken during this latest battle. I will reveal it when the time is right. For now, we will drink and feast to victory!"
The court called out its assent again before beginning to eat and drink and in some cases, fuck right there on the floor. The lords and ladies in their finery really were a sight to behold in their various states of undress. Astaroth felt plain in his button up shirt, pants and biker boots, black of course. He spotted a full length gown made of nothing but raven's feathers shining blue-black in the candle light. A male demon seated directly next to her wore only leather pants and the chains that hung from his pierced nipples and ears. Another woman came to sit on his lap, covered only by strategically placed blood red gems glittering in the candlelight. Both their eyes had turned jet black from lust, blotting out the whites around the iris.
Astaroth had just locked eyes with that wicked bejeweled woman from across the room and thought about joining in when he felt his father's hand on his shoulder, motioning him to step out into the hallway. Making his way through the throng he found his sister Soratha was waiting for them. Her dark red hair was done up in some elaborate style and she smiled coldly at him.
"Hello brother."
He ignored her and turned to his father. "Is this about the advantage you were mentioning at dinner?"
"Yes, I'd already informed Soratha about this earlier."
Of course he did.
"I want your assistance with this project. As my heir it's time you contributed to the cause. You know our mages and our weapons technology department have been working together to develop a way to study the vultures. Because of that, our knowledge has been greatly improved and we have captured one of them. It is here in the complex now."
Astaroth stopped fuming for a moment. None of the enemy had been caught alive since before he was born. "You've caught an angel? A live one?"
"Yes, it is under lock and key right now in one of our interrogation rooms."
He meant torture chamber.
"You will be present and guard it while Soratha and I gather a team to complete the interrogation. She will show you to the prisoner and you will wait for us there. Then you will assist with the interrogation." He fixed them both with a level stare. "No matter what misgivings occurred between the two of you in the past, you will put them aside for now. This is too important for sibling squabbling. It is a chance for us to gain the upper hand and a chance for you to prove yourselves."
With that he nodded and turned on his heel to head down the hall, apparently ending the conversation and leaving Astaroth with his would be murderer.
"Come on," Soratha said, tipping her head to the direction they should go.
Thankfully it was a short and silent walk through the underground maze of tunnels that made up the fortress. The subterranean setup shielded them from detection for the most part. Not many windows were built in. She stopped in front of a door with the number 12 engraved on it.
"Here we are," she said in a cheerful tone as if going to a party rather than to a torture chamber, "the code is 4482. I'll go find father and see when he'll be ready. I know it's difficult for you but try not to fuck anything up while I'm gone." She started to turn around.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said wryly. She swiveled back around and gave him a dangerous look.
"Oh, and don't remove the gag. The last thing we need is for you talking to it. Fuck this up for me and I won't miss this time when I trip with that knife in my hand. You know how clumsy I can be." With that she sauntered off.
Astaroth waited for her to leave before turning his back, in case she was planning to produce a knife right there and stab him in it. As soon as she was clear, he punched in the key code and the door popped open leaking out the acrid smell of disinfectant. He'd never had a reason to come into one of these rooms before and the bright lights shining off the stainless steel walls surprised him. This looked more like an operating room than a dungeon.
