"Isn't it time for a change of office?" The voice, powerful but smooth, echoed throughout the chamber. All the delegates turned to face it. At the head of the table sat a shadowed figure, feet propped up on the council table. "You bow and scrape for the favor of a, hmph, Goddess, who's long past her expiration date."
One of the delegate's voices echoed out immediately as his ended, its owner a portly man with a growing baldspot on his head. "Who are you to dare speak such blasphemy in the chamber of the Goddess-"
"The man you need, and the one, if your loyalty is anything to acknowledge, you deserve. All of you, and the people under you. Truly, under me, the only one who loses out is the Goddess, and the refuse of the land." His voice hardened. "The Demon Lord and her ilk."
The chamber was silent. As eager as they were to call in guards, the offer of eliminating the monster threat was something they couldn't let pass. Finally, a voice belonging to a man younger than the first, and much more lean, spoke up. "...If we are to consider your offer, we must know what it is you wish from us."
Before he could answer, another voice broke the silence, this one belonging to an older woman. "Since no one else has asked, I shall. Who are you?"
His reply was swift, but as calm and flowing as before. "Now now, one question at a time, and I believe I'll save the answer to yours for last, madam. As for you young sir, all I require is land."
The portly man spoke up again. "Land?" He sputtered. "You interupted this meeting to demand land!?"
The figure let his feet fall from the table. He leaned forward, still shadowed as he answered. "Calm yourself, the land I ask for is that along the border. The Blasted Plains."
No one spoke. The blasted plains, to some known as the Land of Two Skies. A fitting name, despite not being wholly part of the demon realm, it was treated so, as it bordered its corruption. No one went near it, much less asked to own a piece of it.
Nobody had noticed the figure's new position behind two of the delegates, one a man in his middle age, another a woman notably young for the council. Now visible, he was remarkably attractive, his face lean but not guant. He stood perhaps six feet, his body not massive, but otherwise indistinguishable underneath his midnight-colored cloak. His purple eyes shone, piercing others but mirroring the window to his soul. In his right hand hung a long scroll, letters inked so dark they seemed to swallow the light around them. A corner of his mouth curved upward in a smile, the rest of his face immutable. "No need to worry about deeds or official writs, I've got the contract right here. The council's decision is unanimous in this of course, so only one signature will be needed to agree to the tenements here."
To his surprise, the one to his left, the young maiden, gingerly took the contract from him. Plucking a quill from a nearby inkwell, she quickly marked her name and title. The older woman spoke up, the last time her voice would be her own. "Your name, sir?"
"Of course," he spoke while reclaiming the contract. Admiring it briefly, he continued. "Well now, as a proud owner of a parcel of land, I suppose you can call me the Baron." Before she could reply, a dark mass of what could only be described as shadow given life collapsed over her, with every other council member sharing her fate. The inky mass burrowed into their skin, their eyes, nostrils, mouth, wherever it could find purchase. The Baron walked back to his seat at the head of the table, reviewing the contract once more. The symphony of cries and other assorted sounds of struggle subsided, and with his feet up on the table once more, one could hardly tell anything had transpired at all.
"Father?" Lugosi shifted slightly in suprise. Well, it was the first time he'd used such magic in this way. Putting his feet down, he leaned forward. Most of those around the table were in a dazed state, but the youngest, the signer of his contract, held an intense stare at the intruder.
"Please council member, address me as the Baron. We should be proper, especially in such an inportant place." The darkness he had encroach on the room now receded, allowing a more unadulterated view. On the ceiling a beautiful painting covered the entirety of the stone, depicting the Chief Goddess as a shining beacon, her beautiful visage showing a smile as warm as the sun as she blessed a particular individual, gender indeterminable under the thick layers of metal plate and the expressionless helmet. The famous Champion of the Goddess, one of many at least, until many years ago. Such blessings were common, knights against the darkness, until the Goddess had no more light left to give, allowing the surge of the monsterous tide, those deigned as heretical claiming it the fault of the Goddess herself. Lugosi knew one thing, whether she was the cause or not, she was not the salvation. Lack of strength or lack of caring, only one thing could be done.
Depose the Goddess.
"All present, continue as you were. Report anything of import to me, and cease the punishment of those declared as heretics. If you will excuse me, I have some land to develop."