Madame Dalia Blackthorne, necromancer, half fae, and royally f*cked up in general. Madame Dalia, servant to the Demon Lord Zaruk Na'Roth, and whore to the leogions of demons. Madame Dalia, Queen of..well, you get the picture.

Yes, she had arrived. It had taken some doing, some bribing, some killing, and a plump little baby delivered to that grotesque Khar'In, but she had found the place she was looking for.

Madame Dalia had someone in tow, Michelle, Mara's sister. She needed somewhere to stash the girl, and needed a base of operations. She'd brought riches of the daemons, rare potions, and her killer bod to haggle with. Perhaps these who dwelt here would listen to her plans for domination and destruction, perhaps not. Either way, she was here and...why waste the trip?

Kicking the girl in the head to shut her up and knock her out once more, Dalia called out into the mists, really starting to hope that this was, indeed, the right place?

"Helloo? Anyone around? I am here to speak with whomsoever is in charge. I have a boon to ask, or perhaps a payment arrangement can be made? Name your price!"

She hoped to meet with this dark one, the one who could raise the dead as well or perhaps better than she...would he be willing to hear her out? Would he dain to lower himself enough to take part in her plans? Or would she end up Zombie fodder, or worse, Zaruk's truly dead concubine and damned soul forever?

She knew his type, she'd dealt with many like him before. Problem was, she'd always been master and the demon or the like was the submissor. Oh well, the means justified the ends.

Bowing deeply, regally, yet in that feminine way of hers, and then she rose. Her hair was well groomed today, coiffed and clean. Her dress was clean, a vision of taffetta and a corset that forced the swell of her bosom to heave with every breath. She spoke in a soft voice, yet deeper than most young women.

"I have come far, my Lord, seeking protection and solace. I seek aid in my vengeance, and power. I bring to you offerings of rare potions I have made, herbs and the blood of a virgin on her wedding day. I bring myself, my Lord, for I am well versed in the arts that would please you. I ask of you guidance, aid, and power. I wish to destroy mine enemies, bring my brother back to life, and to destroy those whom my enemies hold dear. I wish, ultimately, My Lord, to rule Rhydin through fear and terror." Dalia was so wrapped up in her speech, that her breath came faster, her pale cheeks flushed with passion and ardor, and her eyes glistened with madness and hunger. She was insane, yes, but she was oh so powerful, and truly an artist in the bedroom.

"My Lord, I offer my services to you, in return for aid. I need a place to keep this young one, for further use." She smiled coyly, dangling the rope towards him,"You may partake of her, my Lord, if you wish. I ask that you not kill her, though. For that time will come soon enough, but her sister must be brought back from the void to witness it." Sneering, Dalia kicked the unconscious girl, wishing it could be Mara instead.

She went on to tell him of her plans, of her desire to bring Zillah back, and Mara as well. She asked him for security, a place to work her magick and perform the rites in peace. She asked him for power, an additional source of it, as well as blood from wherever he deemed worthy. She went on to describe her talents, her gifts, and she gifted him the blood of the virgin bride.

Dalia spent much time describing to him her plans, those on her list to be captured, tortured, and those who would be forced to watch. This wicked, evil woman planned to not only win him over with her vile plans, but with her offerings as well. She offered herself up to him, as his own personal concubine; she promised to bring to him the delights that no mortal woman could. She promised to do as he bid, to carry out what plans he would make for her, as long as he allowed her free reign in her own little world.

Dalia ended her visit with him by bowing, not something easily done for such a dominant, strong woman, but she did it and meant it. She could learn from him, she knew, and she knew she would become invaluable to him, perhaps some day a partner. Dare she think of it? His bride?

Her thoughts churned as she awaited his sentancing, was it to be a life she had dreamt and striven for, or was it to be a torment and eternal life with Zaruk?

Dalia gave into submission for the first time in her life. She agreed to all his terms, reveling in the power and glory she would recieve as she ruled alongside him.

She felt the thrill of his touch, and gave herself completely to him, his cause, and his Gods and his Masters. She would have her vengeance, and she would never be alone again. She would have no fear of Zaruk, or of anyone else. She was now, and forever, tainted and stained with the evil that she knew she was destined for!

Thoughts of Mara and Zillah did not bother her now, for she, too, had found the perfect match.

Bellora did find this dark land, through aid of her information network. She had come, seeking Dalia, but she knew she was unprepared to meet with the Dark Necromancer just yet. Instead, she needed to free Belle.

The assassin of the Goddess was silent in her approach, and went unnoticed for a time, she hoped. She was here for recon, and to verify that Dalia had, indeed, made an alliance with this Khoss.

Wraiths and mists, voices cried out to her, causing her pain in her heart and in her mind. This was a place she would not be able to stay in long, it would drive her mad. But she had to find Belle, had to release her.

She called out to Belle; to her mind,directly.

"Belle, if you hear me, answer. I am here, lost in the mist, but I will find you. I need your help in saving you. Answer!!"

Bellora knew that it wouldn't take them any time at all to know they had a trespasser in their midst. She took off at a dead run, zig-zagging over the ground, seeking out any sign of Belle.

She felt the calling, and witnessed the trail of animals heading to a small cellar-like entrance to what must be crypts or dungeons. Air vents and small, barred windows emitted a faint flickering glow of torches or candles. Must be Dalia, she had a flair for the dramatic.

Bellora shrank into the shadows, becoming a shadow, and slipped through the bars, dropping silently to her feet in the far room of Dalia's dungeons.