Post by Baalbatos on Feb 7, 2016 19:30:39 GMT -5
Baalbatos strode through the small facility that he and Lord Qrowen were based out of. It was a humble building, well suited for the humble origins. One day, Ballbatos might look fondly back on these tiny halls and smile. But for now, they only made him frown. There was so much work to be done here, and he was going to have to buckle down and do it. Or at least bust out the clipboard and delegate these tasks to someone else. They had soldiers for a reason. So, he’d best make use of them. Use it or lose it, as they said. And Baalbatos had no intention of losing it, none whatsoever.
The first thing that he intended to check was the armory. It was where they kept their various gear. It was a modest little place, with just barely enough blaster gauntlets and armor to outfit their current army. Baalbatos strode into it, a door sliding aside to allow him access. He was alone, save for the sole soldier on guard duty, sat behind a desk. It was an Apel man, pale green in skin tone. Baalbatos recognized him. He had an eye for faces. He never forget a face, and it had served him well before. The soldier rose with a salute as Baalbatos entered. “Greetings, sir,” declared the soldier.
“At ease, soldier,” said Baalbatos with a small smile at the mention of the word ‘sir, “I’m just here to check in on the armory. Anything to report at the moment?”
“No, sir! The armory is in tip top shape!” Exclaimed the soldier.
“Excellent,” cooed Baalbatos, “Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to take a look around. I feel the need to make sure everything is in order. I’m very particular about these kinds of things, you know?”
“Of couse, sir, don’t let me distract you,” said the soldier sitting back down. The soldier was tapping away at some kind of datapad, engrossed in something. Now, thought Baalbatos, just what is he so interested in? Quickly, Baalbatos strode over to the soldier’s desk. He stood over the man, arms crossed, a small grin on his face.
“What are you doing with that, soldier?”
The soldier coughed and cleared his throat, “Nothing important, sir.”
“Oh?” Asked Baalbatos, “It must be something important. You’re looking at it as if it is the only thing in the world. Now why don’t you tell me? I promise I can keep a secret.”
“Um,” said the soldier awkwardly, “Well, I was messaging my wife back home, sir. You see, we were discussing getting her over here, on the base.”
“I see,” said Baalbatos, his eyes narrowing, “And you are doing this on duty?”
The man quite audibly swallowed, “I… I’m sorry, sir,” he began to stammer, “I just miss her so much, I-”
Baalbatos held up his hand to silence the man. He sighed. This is not what he had been hoping to find in the armory this day. Now, he was going to have to do something about this. “I see. Well, soldier, I think I can forgive you just this once,” he began, smiling sweetly, “I understand what it is like to miss one’s family.”
That was a lie. Baalbatos had been born out of the darkness of the Demon Realm. He had no family, no blood ties in this world. But he knew enough about the people of this world to know that they were sentimental, attached. And he could make use of that.
“Further more,” continued Baalbatos, “Feel free to begin moving her here. I’ll sign all the necessary papers myself, clear up any red tape that might come with the move. It’s the least I can do for a loyal soldier of Lord Qrowen’s army.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the soldier, clearly stunned, “I… That’s very kind of you.”
“You’re very welcome. We reward loyalty. Never let it be said that we do not take care of our own,” he beamed. Baalbatos knew what he was saying. A little kindness went a long way. Word of mouth could make or break someone’s reputation, and he’d rather that his and Lord Qrowen’s be sterling. Such a reputation would serve them well in the long run.
“Now,” continued Baalbatos, “I must continue my inspection of the army. Go ahead and tell your wife the good news then get back to your duties, soldier.”
“At once, sir!”
And with that, Baalbatos went deeper into the armory, his eyes following the walls as he went. It was a humble armory. Second hand and old model equipment, he thought, what a disgrace. They needed better equipment. But that cost money. It was a matter of finding the funds. Perhaps Baalbatos could pull some strings… He did know some people. Baalbatos had grown quite the list of contacts since he had entered this world. There might be one or two people on that list who could help them out, relieve them of some of the burden that came with forging a new nation. Never had he thought of just how much effort went into these kinds of things.
“It’ll all be worth it in the long run,” he whispered to himself, “I just hope that I last that long without going mad from boredom. By Hell, no one told me how boring it would be sometimes.”
He did enjoy parts of it, though. There was a certain sense of pride that came with finishing a form or convincing a mercenary company to stay on a discount. He was a people demon by nature. And he reveled in these kind of things.
Finally, he left the armory and continued his way through the compound. There was still much to do today, before he went to bed and rose in the morning to do it all again. Likely, he’d be staying up well into the night, kept awake by the dim, aching light of a data pad and some kind of bitter brew that the soldiers were fond of.
But suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Baalbatos rounded on his heels to face the newcomer and he saw a familiar face: Gouta the Brenchian woman.
“Oh,” he began, “Gouta, what can I do for you?”
The Brenchian woman smiled, “Hello, sir. I brought you another report. This one comes from off-world apparently.”
Baalbatos grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Off-world?” He asked, “Now, I wonder what that could be. But thank you, Gouta, I appreciate it.”
“It was my pleasure, sir. I’m just glad that I can be of service,” she beamed, her voice proud.
“You certainly have proven capable. I’ll have to keep you around. You’re certainly more useful than most.”
“I’m glad to hear that, sir. If I can ever do anything else for you, please let me know,” she insisted.
“I will, Gouta. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see what this off-world communication is about.”
“Yes, sir!” Exclaimed Gouta as she walked away with a salute.
Finally, Baalbatos began to read the report. And it was the most dry report he had ever laid eyes on. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and vowed to read it later. He would need something to put him to sleep tonight. His work would never quite end, but he was okay with that. He was a demon. His entire life was work, working until he carved out his own place to sit. Or until he carved out a place for Lord Qrowen and he was able to rest in his lord’s shadow. Ruling was tiresome. He had learned that in the demon realm.
With a shake of his head, Baalbatos continued his way through the facility. He was not done quite yet, and he’d not be done until the dead of night. He would be lucky to get a good night’s sleep in. He quite missed the comfort of his dreams. They were often fanciful and interesting, much different from his time in the waking world. He had come to love his little escapes into the land of sleep.
And finally, Baalbatos slipped back to his quarters, various reports and data pads tucked under his arm. Grumbling, he sat down at his desk, a glass of something strong sitting on the corner of it. Quickly, he down a half of it. And he’d get through the other half just as quickly. He had a long night ahead of him. Hopefully his drink would take him down into dreams.
(Zeni please!)
The first thing that he intended to check was the armory. It was where they kept their various gear. It was a modest little place, with just barely enough blaster gauntlets and armor to outfit their current army. Baalbatos strode into it, a door sliding aside to allow him access. He was alone, save for the sole soldier on guard duty, sat behind a desk. It was an Apel man, pale green in skin tone. Baalbatos recognized him. He had an eye for faces. He never forget a face, and it had served him well before. The soldier rose with a salute as Baalbatos entered. “Greetings, sir,” declared the soldier.
“At ease, soldier,” said Baalbatos with a small smile at the mention of the word ‘sir, “I’m just here to check in on the armory. Anything to report at the moment?”
“No, sir! The armory is in tip top shape!” Exclaimed the soldier.
“Excellent,” cooed Baalbatos, “Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to take a look around. I feel the need to make sure everything is in order. I’m very particular about these kinds of things, you know?”
“Of couse, sir, don’t let me distract you,” said the soldier sitting back down. The soldier was tapping away at some kind of datapad, engrossed in something. Now, thought Baalbatos, just what is he so interested in? Quickly, Baalbatos strode over to the soldier’s desk. He stood over the man, arms crossed, a small grin on his face.
“What are you doing with that, soldier?”
The soldier coughed and cleared his throat, “Nothing important, sir.”
“Oh?” Asked Baalbatos, “It must be something important. You’re looking at it as if it is the only thing in the world. Now why don’t you tell me? I promise I can keep a secret.”
“Um,” said the soldier awkwardly, “Well, I was messaging my wife back home, sir. You see, we were discussing getting her over here, on the base.”
“I see,” said Baalbatos, his eyes narrowing, “And you are doing this on duty?”
The man quite audibly swallowed, “I… I’m sorry, sir,” he began to stammer, “I just miss her so much, I-”
Baalbatos held up his hand to silence the man. He sighed. This is not what he had been hoping to find in the armory this day. Now, he was going to have to do something about this. “I see. Well, soldier, I think I can forgive you just this once,” he began, smiling sweetly, “I understand what it is like to miss one’s family.”
That was a lie. Baalbatos had been born out of the darkness of the Demon Realm. He had no family, no blood ties in this world. But he knew enough about the people of this world to know that they were sentimental, attached. And he could make use of that.
“Further more,” continued Baalbatos, “Feel free to begin moving her here. I’ll sign all the necessary papers myself, clear up any red tape that might come with the move. It’s the least I can do for a loyal soldier of Lord Qrowen’s army.”
“Thank you, sir,” said the soldier, clearly stunned, “I… That’s very kind of you.”
“You’re very welcome. We reward loyalty. Never let it be said that we do not take care of our own,” he beamed. Baalbatos knew what he was saying. A little kindness went a long way. Word of mouth could make or break someone’s reputation, and he’d rather that his and Lord Qrowen’s be sterling. Such a reputation would serve them well in the long run.
“Now,” continued Baalbatos, “I must continue my inspection of the army. Go ahead and tell your wife the good news then get back to your duties, soldier.”
“At once, sir!”
And with that, Baalbatos went deeper into the armory, his eyes following the walls as he went. It was a humble armory. Second hand and old model equipment, he thought, what a disgrace. They needed better equipment. But that cost money. It was a matter of finding the funds. Perhaps Baalbatos could pull some strings… He did know some people. Baalbatos had grown quite the list of contacts since he had entered this world. There might be one or two people on that list who could help them out, relieve them of some of the burden that came with forging a new nation. Never had he thought of just how much effort went into these kinds of things.
“It’ll all be worth it in the long run,” he whispered to himself, “I just hope that I last that long without going mad from boredom. By Hell, no one told me how boring it would be sometimes.”
He did enjoy parts of it, though. There was a certain sense of pride that came with finishing a form or convincing a mercenary company to stay on a discount. He was a people demon by nature. And he reveled in these kind of things.
Finally, he left the armory and continued his way through the compound. There was still much to do today, before he went to bed and rose in the morning to do it all again. Likely, he’d be staying up well into the night, kept awake by the dim, aching light of a data pad and some kind of bitter brew that the soldiers were fond of.
But suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Baalbatos rounded on his heels to face the newcomer and he saw a familiar face: Gouta the Brenchian woman.
“Oh,” he began, “Gouta, what can I do for you?”
The Brenchian woman smiled, “Hello, sir. I brought you another report. This one comes from off-world apparently.”
Baalbatos grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Off-world?” He asked, “Now, I wonder what that could be. But thank you, Gouta, I appreciate it.”
“It was my pleasure, sir. I’m just glad that I can be of service,” she beamed, her voice proud.
“You certainly have proven capable. I’ll have to keep you around. You’re certainly more useful than most.”
“I’m glad to hear that, sir. If I can ever do anything else for you, please let me know,” she insisted.
“I will, Gouta. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see what this off-world communication is about.”
“Yes, sir!” Exclaimed Gouta as she walked away with a salute.
Finally, Baalbatos began to read the report. And it was the most dry report he had ever laid eyes on. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and vowed to read it later. He would need something to put him to sleep tonight. His work would never quite end, but he was okay with that. He was a demon. His entire life was work, working until he carved out his own place to sit. Or until he carved out a place for Lord Qrowen and he was able to rest in his lord’s shadow. Ruling was tiresome. He had learned that in the demon realm.
With a shake of his head, Baalbatos continued his way through the facility. He was not done quite yet, and he’d not be done until the dead of night. He would be lucky to get a good night’s sleep in. He quite missed the comfort of his dreams. They were often fanciful and interesting, much different from his time in the waking world. He had come to love his little escapes into the land of sleep.
And finally, Baalbatos slipped back to his quarters, various reports and data pads tucked under his arm. Grumbling, he sat down at his desk, a glass of something strong sitting on the corner of it. Quickly, he down a half of it. And he’d get through the other half just as quickly. He had a long night ahead of him. Hopefully his drink would take him down into dreams.
(Zeni please!)
