Intro: Bam!Markosl roared in fury, built-up frustration finally finding a outlet. The impertinence of these mortals! Not only have we been forced by the circumstances caused by them seeking Demon Kings to leave the pleasures of the dream for whole minutes, but now these scum would think to have us submit to them?
All eleven of my heads shoot gobs of acid at the "Empress" and the one who demanded we swear fealty, hopefully melting them. If successful, the heads hiss out in unison
"You weaklings! We are your Kings! WHY AREN'T YOU KNEELING YET?!"
If not successful, wade into melee, eviscerating those who would oppose my reign.
As he is trying to recall he is looking at the Empress until he notices Markosl's heads spew acid in the direction of the Empress. Vas'nox is not sure she she should be removed just yet, so he erects a dark magical barrier around the Empress for the time being.
Acid Assassination: 1/2/0
Dark Deflection: 0/1/0
Markosl unleashes the fury of a thousand waking moments with all the restraint and poise of an acid inferno. Vas'nox attempts to shield the empress from this assault, but succeeds only in shrouding her from sight at the cost of preventing her from seeing herself either.
One of the Empress' retainers is far more adept at resolving the situation, and leaps to block the acid streams with his oblong shield. This mostly works, but deflects acid at some bystanders and forces him to discard it a moment later.
Markosl bellows and lunges towards the group, only to discover the shieldbearer has some friends. There are four in total, all armed with a spear and oblong wooden shield covered in ornate decorations. He estimates the four of them together, while not as mighty as he is, are nonetheless fully qualified to be nuisances in combat with him.
Guardians: 1/0/2
Markosl: 2/2/0
The four leap into action, jabbing at the raging hydra with cautious poking attacks. Markosl bellows and flails about, scattering them but throwing himself uncomfortably and undignifiably to the floor in the process.
"Sir..." Markosl hears Ethekath rasp from a safe distance, in his "you're making this worse trying to take the easy way out" tone.
"I... see..." Sammacle slowly says as Markosl does his thing, stepping back from him a little and maybe kicking some overly close people away irritably as he thinks.
Try to remember if the Ebon Pact was an actual document, and what it said if I have ever seen it. Apply giant palm to giant face if I never managed to read it.
The Ebon Pact, as you recall, is less of an official document and more of a series of people sharpening axes while looking at each other. It has actual words and understandings attached to it, but it's one of those very open-ended things you usually get from desperate pleas to a higher power. Specifically:
-Miraga and its people are to be sworn to Asudarai Kei Talmalach and the Six Kings. Immediate ambiguity and flexibility implying both physical ownership and worship/obedience, and an immediate source of contradiction regarding who or what they belong to if somebody disagrees with somebody else.
-The Six Kings are to protect and serve their new holdings, for themselves and Bloom. Standard nigh-meaningless "do your job" stuff.
-All are to be awarded and blessed on their merits and fate. Standard nigh-meaningless "we're a meritocracy by which we mean not everybody is getting saved so you'd better toady up to the right demon lord." Applies equally well to Miragan peasants as it does to the Kings.
Or, put another way, everyone sharpens an axe while the Miragans decide if they'd like to comply with your orders, Bloom sharpens an axe while you decide if you'd like to do your job, and your allies sharpen an axe while deciding if you're causing them problems. All the powerful people have axes, so there wasn't any need for more specific terms or binding mechanics.
Tlanextli, following Sammacle's lead, stepped away from the hydra. He felt perplexed; he did not remember any mention of a mortal and as much as he wished to question this so-called 'empress' Markosl had gone and made such an option very...difficult. He would make sure to try and locate her soul for...later questioning should time allow it.
For now though, a little show of anger should suffice.
"IMPUDENCE. It is you accursed MORTALS, you haughty creatures, that should be swearing fealty to US! An Empress who demands the aid of demons is in NO position to rule. Kneel now or PERISH."
The results are actually a little disconcerting- immediate and professional toadying. Every mortal near you promptly drops to their knees and begins assuring you of how mighty you are and confessing that they'd be incredibly useful.
Vas'nox tries to recall details of the Ebony pack in regards to swearing fealty to an Empress.
Nothing you heard about. You were supposed to be "in service" to Miraga in some capacity, but that was more of a fancy way of saying "look after your property" than "do what anyone outside Bloom says."
Phor Yevell stomps with his forelegs and shakes his elephant-head. "You seek to shackle us to your whims? Leash us to your narrow-minded morals, and bind us to your incompetent decision-making? Those very same qualities that set your city on the path to ruin? If you truly think change is attainable this way, you are deluding yourself."
You get an immediate and probably not entirely genuine chorus of toadying agreements from the mortals near you, along with a lot of pleading for favors and suggestions about how useful they are.
Most of the mortals are now either worshiping Phor Yevell or Tlanextli, or continuing to size up the situation on one heel. The royal cluster has retreated a bit, but seems to be anxiously waiting to see how the battle between the guardians and the hydra pans out.