LHis fist’s tightened at his side as the Abomination spoke. He did not hold the same non-sensible fear of magic that humans and the Chantry did. He held a healthy respect for it, which is why dweomer runes were etched into his weapons and armor. If conflict arose, which he was nearly certain it would. He’d like it to be on a level playing field.
“Many have mistaken confidence for pride. To boast strength is to invite challenge. It is better for your opponent to think you a fool, than for you to prove it to him.”
He felt a familiar calm creeping over him then. He steadied his breath to an even pace, letting the stiffness of his body fall always. If it was a fight the demon was looking he would find one soon enough.
“You should return to from whence you came. You will find only death and destruction here.”
“Challenge also brings forth conflict.”
The words were stated far more bluntly than needed, but all the same, in the demon’s mind, they were quite true. Eventually, everyone thought they could take on larger, and larger foes. Most of them failed, but also, a small number succeeded, and it was possible that this one would.
At least, on a small scale. One that wouldn’t tip anything off, but it would be… concerning to say the very least. A reason to why the Demon was going to keep his distance from what he deeply caved ( to put the other in their place and prove how powerful he was ).
“ —– Returning from where I came from isn’t going to happen. Not when there are so many… delightful things here. Get past their mishaps and every species has has potential. Especially…. your kind.”
“Only when it suits me.”
A slight grin pulled at the abomination’s lips for just a few slight moments. He could tell the one before him was much more than what he seemed. It was to that very reason that he decided to be a gracious host. He even gave a slight bow toward the elf to prove –in his mind– that there was no ill intentions to be had at the moment.
“If it’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that mortals always enjoy fighting. Not that I mind it, but they aways fall victim to something. Be it sloth, rage, or even….. pride.”
A host, that was all he had ever wanted; something to hold onto the waking world with his own hands. He had one long ago, but was banished back into the fade, and that was where he had waited.
He had tempted several mages before, but they always denied him a host. It had to be willing, had to be a certain type, and had to be powerful.
Thankfully, with the Circle in ruins, he was able to attach himself to a young Apostate who was on the run from the Templars.
Now, he is free to do what he wishes in the world of the waking, but everything comes at a cost.
Eventually, his own pride will catch up with him — after-all, it’s in his title as a pride demon.
Hellfirebound 