The Palace of Ruin

[Emperor of shadows]

The Palace of Ruin

Lost to time and space, this huge city of a palace, balancing on the Edge of the Dimension, is one of the last refuges of the dark creatures, such as vampires or Lycans. But its walls are fading, and its magics are dying. And without the magic, none can escape dissolution of the Nether-world. The Palace of Ruin is set on a ticking clock of fading magic and a solution unknown. Someone must stop it.  

[Emperor of shadows]

The Palace of Ruin

There was a flurry of heels on the gravel surface of the road, a rush of black cloth leading a pursuer behind it
She was fast, yes, but he was faster. Demonic skills and all.
The day was bright, illuminating a path with ease. The town that lay before him was a quiet bit, he suspected that a chase would be the talk of the month.
This rush-of-cloth's face was a bundle of smiles, thereupon sharp canines flashed, white and grinning, his orange eyes lighting up a darkbrown face. He was a youthful specimen, with visage of 20 years, scruffy facial hair, and toned body to fit. He was well maintained, hard muscles flexing beneath a scrapped together leather regalia. He was also fitted in what appeared to be godly armaments, crystals and collars in golds, but this would be a disgrace to any god to see it, it was a mess of gems and magic.
Like most demons (even in a sub-human state) brown, glossy horns sprouted from under his carmine, almost black hair-- hair that was at the moment whipping out of it's ponytail-braid and into the brightness of day.
He laughed, a bitter-sweet sound that surely was carried by wind to his pursuer.
The girl following him, he suspected, did not know what kind of demon he was, or where he came from.
Or /who/ he was, at that.
“Oh, Mortem, what have you gotten yourself into today?”
Actually, the sighed remark was accompanied by an answer. As the demon rounded a corner, the rest of the small town was brought into view; short wooden houses accommodating to the metal counterparts billowing smoke. The town was of the middle-range varieties: It did not possess any particular trades or any great wealth, and it was consequently, located in the middle of Fieranos Kingdom--Where behaviour like the girl's was ill-monitored, letting any well-to-do hunter go with capturing a faithful guardian of life, like he.
A guardian of life? Fat chance.
Mortem had merely been looking for a bite to eat, maybe a hunk of deer, maybe a hog, hunting away with his Fire-Magics, when he-- of complete accident-- struck near the poor girl, of whom he had not seen prior. This was not an incredibly popular move, as to the child it was an act of aggression. He had hastily tried to explain the occurrence as bare serendipity-- perhaps he was meant to meet her—but she did not buy it. In fact, she responded with as much ardour as he would have to a deer.
Lungs heaving with breath, heart pounding in excitement, his physical display was merely a miscommunication gone awry.
And Mortem was enjoying every moment of it.  

[Emperor of shadows]

Mortem's high-tailed escape let to the second step of the girl's rage-- fire, he had slowed his dash away from her to look behind, to see what she was doing.
A sphere of flames rolled and screamed in his direction, he only had a moment to turn back around before the flames made connection right on Mortem's rear end.
He bit off a loud and unpleasant swear, stopping dead in his tracks.
“Awh, right you want to make things personal?” Came the murmur, sounding slightly hurt. His hands flashed to handle the burn wound-- his pants were blackened and crispy, but he felt as if the flesh within remained satisfactory. His gaze remained intent as the girl came closer to him. He was still catching breath when she pulled up closer to him, close enough to examine the specimen.
“Aw-right, aw-right, I get it! I shouldn't have shot that fire.” He did sound sorry, Mortem was always sure his words were truth. Well, this was mostly truth. The other truth was that he enjoyed the chase, and for that he wasn't sorry: not one bit.
He had to speak above the city, as well: louder than the hustle-bustle in the town. Still, most of the noise would come from a street over, in the main markets.
“I concede.” He added, raising the metaphorical white-flag of peacefulness, open palms in the air.
Now that he was facing her, he was able to get a look at her. Mortem had to admit that in that black corset, she wasn't the least attractive girl to have been chasing him. The demon should have felt more abashed.
He stifled a devilish chuckle and remained still. Even a ill-placed smile could set the girl off, and he wanted her full cooperation with what he intended to do with her next.  

[Emperor of shadows]

Mortem caught the girls eyes and held onto what reasonable essence he could muster.
“Well, for starters, I was only hunting.”
He took a few steps closer to her, causally, inviting. If he wanted to be her friend at any moment, it would haven been in these. “And, I need your help.”
His tone was sincere, but a smaller voice in the back of his mind complained at the red, still-hot bum wound.
/“Oiyah, I'll take care of you later,”/ Came the reply to his protesting body.
He looked back up at the girl. “And if you like hunting demons so much, then this is even better than what you could ever want.” His tone was that of a salesman, measured and precise, rising and falling with eyed emphasis.
He smirked, and took one more step closer to her. At this point, he was a mere lunge away from her, but even as he would have politely backed up, he noted the presence of eyes upon the two quarries, and scanning around he attempted to place the direction of that uncanny feeling.
No particular scent returned with his promptings. He checked left, right and abound.
There were certainly no other people looking save for the few passerby, and in the distance, Mortem swore that he spied on some type of canine. He blinked over at this apparition and noted that there had been no scent of wolven animals around-- as indeed his eyes expounded in demonly expertise.
/A wolf, huh?/ It was most certainly training an eye on the two, and as he stared back, he could feel a certain intelligence sparking back at him.
“Well.” He looked at prior hunter. “I need you to come with me.”
He reached at the spell-orb at his side and raised his hands in the air to make a a ripping motion with clenched fists. As his arms spread-eagled, he opened fists to reveal the very rip pantomimed as a glowing scarlet vortex.
The vortex grew to be the size of the dark-skinned demon, his eyes casting away the unnatural light in a disturbing manner. He grinner further. “We're going to the Palace of Ruin.” And with that, he lunged at the girl to shove her at and through the portal.  

[Emperor of shadows]

Mortem was surprised.
He wasn't sure if what he did would work-- that is, if he could convince the girl to go with him.
Turns out, he didn't need to convince her, he just had to talk long enough to shove her though a portal.
And it worked!
Here, the demon was laughing, again, a bittersweet toil that echoed into the raging winds of the portal.
Around the two-- no three-- the wolf too-- there was a swirl of light and color. The Spellbinding to connect the two worlds roiled and spun, a dance of space-time united.
Finally, the other side of the wormhole opened up, to the Palace of Ruin's Emergence Corridor.

The air was dusty and filled with the sour taint of death, and the hall to which he sat was illuminated by a series of high chandeliers—once elegant, but long since fallen from grace. Their glassy remains held nothing but the reflections of despair and failing light.

The ceiling was an infinity above them, painted with murals depicting the dissolution of grand cities, and spun with dark black spider webs. The air smelled curiously familiar, but would send chills down anyone's spine, should they understand the scent of death.

Mortem flew out of the portal, crash landing on the cold floor, and strightened himself with a brush off from his leathers.
Once the other two fell out, he turned to them, the portal closed. “Welcome,” He made a gesture to the expanse around him, “to the Palace of Ruin. Now, where would you like to get started?”

His voice was cheerful, he had plans for what good things the girl would do for the place. And, as for the wolf, he could tell by it's intelligent gaze that there was more to it; probably a fellow demon if Mortem guessed correctly. A demon like he would have no choice but to care about the Palace, being it the last haven standing.  

[Emperor of shadows]

Mortem watched in interest as the wolf turned into a girl-- a demon by her fiery scent-- and the witch was thrust out into the Palace, as aghast as any human would be to witness the crumbling walls of the Palace.

When the demon girl addressed him, he turned to her on heel, catching her gaze evenly. His businessman tones were reduced to cold business. “First, I think I should introduce myself. My name is Mortem Acrares, and I am the prince of the Palace of Ruin.”
He bowed, smiling, but as he straightened his back, his face was rather grave. “I don't /want/ to be the prince, but since my older brother has been /slain/--” He gave a pointed look at the hunter he brought with him, “I'd figure we could use some help finding the source of the Palace of Ruin's...well, ruin.” He ended his statement with a chuckle at the apparent irony of the situation.
“The Palace has a parasite. We must find it and destroy it.”

He turned away from the two assembled and turned to a door that waited directly before the Emergence Corridor. Opening it, the demon revealed a large room that resembled a repurposed theatre.

Within it were demons of all colors, sizes and /scents/. The demon sniffed, looking at the dilapidated scene. “The palace is the last refuge for demons. And,” he gestured, revealing a group of humans and non-demon kin in the theatre, “Refugees from all across Aeternum. “I can't leave them to die, and if you care for your fellow species, you'll help me.”

He closed the door, and opened it a second time, to reveal not a theater, but a small dining room, small, by comparison to the theatre, this room's ceiling towered above, stacks of cooking apparatus present everywhere with heaps of food steaming on platters.

“I've prepared some sustenance for you. I'll give you some time to think of your decision, and then we'll get started.” His cheerful tones resumed, and his orange eyes looked to the two women with more intrigue than before. He noted, staring at the juxtaposed women, the wolf demon was slightly more curvacious, but just as attractive as the other.
This physique elicited all sorts of demonly thoughts, Mortem's face reddened in response.

/Goodness./