[Excist]

Ghalim scratched the bottom edge of his gut where it overhung the top of his trousers by a good inch or two while watching the Agarthan war camp make ready to march toward the heart of Hinnom. Look at them scurry like mice. Ghalim thought they looked like mice running through a maze searching for their cheese. You're better than this. Ghalim wasn't no rat to follow the cheese mindlessly. No, he was better than this. You should be the one giving orders. He should be the one choosing where the cheese was and which way the mice should scurry.

"This army should be yours" said the imp perched on a small boulder at the edge of the camp.

"That's what I've been trying to explain to you....I think.." replied Ghalim groggily.

"Oh, and I think you have a great point there" the imp chuckled as he idly watched as small bugs smoked and blistered under his hovering claw carefully placed a couple of inches overhead. He elicited great pleasure in watching how they would flee the heat moving infinitesimally slowly in one direction as he maneuvered his palm slightly quicker around to the other side. He always thought it was interesting how each individual bug seemed to realize they were moving towards the heat instead of away at unpredictable times. Often they burst open before they even realized they were cooking themselves as much as he was.

"Yes, and this all WOULD have been mine if it wasn't for....for..."

"Him."

"Him."

They both glared at one of the Lords from a minor House from the mining guilds that was tasked with putting the siege army in place as he wandered off to releive himself behind one of the Banded Hills these parts were named after. Ghalim thought to himself how he would surely have been chosen to lead this army and win the glory of defeating Hinnom if not for Ninlil being one of Mandred's many uncles. If only Mandred had died on his search for Harrow-gor. If only Mandred wasn't so paranoid that he would insist on filling every important post with one of his seemingly unending line of family members.

"I knew fate was looking down on you. Here's your golden opportunity! Let's go kill him and then clearly everybody will see you are the better Commander At Arms." The imp sneered as he jumped down from the boulder oblivious to the hissing and crunching when his claw came down on his forgotten toys.

"Let's kill him and.....then..I'm pretty sure we should kill him..." Ghalim droned as he grabbed his Obsidian Glaive and trotted after his commanding officer with intent to kill.

Ninlil's back was turned. 'This looks easy' he thought as he took 2 quick steps forward aiming his Glaive for Ninlil's meaty neck.

*CHIME*

The imp was holding his head screaming in some incomprehensible pain.

Somehow Ninlil was suddenly facing him with his single eye wide open in alarm.

Ghalim slowly remembered the situation and still unsure why it was desperately important, bent to reach down for the Obsidian weapon that he didn't remember dropping on the ground.

*CHIME*

The imp had clawed half it's own head to an unrecognizable pulp in an attempt to tear its ears off but now it seemed fully cognizant of its surroundings and in its ruined head his two eyes fixated on a singular goal. If he succeeded, Blood Bath would make him whole. Would reward him. If he failed..... There was no room for failure or his pain now would be insignificant compared to the eternity of his existance in Hell.

Ghalim picked himself off the ground.

Good, he had managed to hold onto his weapon during this blackout.

Bad, Ninlil had his magic dueling sword and golden shield in hand and was approaching him with the calm surefooted approach of a veteran fighter that had earned his rank through constant drilling in peacetime and years fighting in the Werk Enum border dispute against the Fomorians and the Purging (the Agarthan name for the War to kill the cult of Marverni). This was no surfaceborn milkfed noble.

It was too late to back away now. He charged forward swinging his Glaive down, but Ninlil just dodged to the side and then took two quick swings at Ghalim, the second scoring a deep cut in his side, straight through his cuirass and painfully into one of his ribs. Ninlil panicked a little, realizing his sword was stuck in the poor deluded soldier's body. Ghalim recognized his opportunity ignoring the pain to bring his Glaive down to strike true and end this fight. The strike swung true, certain to end Ninlil's life and then as though through some timely stroke of luck Ninlil's sword came free with such force that Ninlil fell back a rather unlikely distance avoiding the full length of Ghalim's blade.

*CHIME*

The imp clapped his claws down on his ears with such force that his head exploded and his body deconstructed into steaming waste as demons are apt to do when they perish.

Ghalim's first clear thought was full and complete regret as the enormity and madness of what he had attempted was realized with sudden force.

"I'm sorry!" he pleaded throwing down his weapon and holding up his hands in surrender. "I would never....I didn't mean to....It wasn't my choice....I don't know what....that....what happened.."

Ninlil didn't slow his approach as he calmly ran Ghalim through while oddly offering a sympathetic embrace. "I know. I'm sorry too. It has to be this way. If you are allowed to live it will be easier for others to fall prey to this enchantment. That cannot be allowed. I'm so sorry." Ghalim's eye lost focus as Ninlil twisted the blade and pulled it out of its warm bloody sheath.

Ninlil examined the so-called Cleansing Bell with newfound respect. It appears that Earth Reader knew what he was talking about. Ninlil had thought the idea of a Bell that warded against evil was nothing more than perhaps a popular folk lore from another time. He would have to donate to the Ministry of Earthrock when this campaign was over. The Earth Readers had saved his life today.