The Pandemonium Army was feeling restless. For the past few weeks they had free reign to expand however they like. Still it was months since their last combat and the bloodthirsty warriors wanted more. Realizing this itch needed to be scratch Xizamiron allowed the army to camp for a few days while the soldiers broke into brutal gladiatorial combat. Each bout was surrounded by their fellow warrior, cheering on who ever was winning. The medics always had a front row seat to the action. Their sadistic grins put fear into the most harden warrior, for everyone knew the price for the losers if they survive.
On the second day of gladiatorial combat Dizadeim watch from a distance. While he was content and happy just watching, something nag at him. He couldn't put his finger on it but he sense something was amiss. Nevertheless after watching for most of the morning he decide to go back to his tent and study. He had a small collections of Vanacyr's magical tomes and scrolls she loan to him so he could improve his craft. Dizadeim was always amazed at the vast knowledge his mistress has in the arcane. The small collection has either basic or advance knowledge in multiple schools, lores and styles of magic. He spend the next couple of hours studying these tomes when he heard a high pitch screech. It was so faint that most people won't have been able to hear anything at all. Dizadeim calmly close the tome he was reading and step out of his tent.
He whistled three times in quick succession. He did not bother trying to see his target. He knew it was too small and fast for even his keen eyes to track. Instead he concentrated on his hearing. Waiting patiently until it happened, the sound of something cutting through the air towards him at high speeds. With a swift motion Dizadeim snatch a metal tube from the air. He glance up to see a discolored bird-like creature flying over head, slowly changing shape and colors to that of a normal looking hawk. Inside the tube was a scroll from Vanacyr. Dizadeim read the scroll's contents and left to relay its message to Xizamiron.
However scanning the camp he realize he had no idea where Xizamiron was. He guess what was bothering him before was that he had not seen Xizamiron for more than a day. Dizadeim asked all around the camp, wondering if anyone had seen Xizamiron recently. No one did, or at least remembered. Dizadeim figure Xizamiron must be in a humanoid form which made finding him immensely more difficult. Dizadeim then remembered a technique Vanacyr had taught him. By channeling arcane energy into his senses in a certain way, he could enter into a trance that would allow him to be subconsciously pulled towards strong levels of magic provided that it wasn't intentionally being hidden. While in the trance his mind would be in a dream like daze so Dizadeim had to end the technique and re-enter it often so he could keep a mental note where he was. He soon found himself being pulled deep into a forest that was nearby the camp. Figuring he was going too far away from camp and wasn't sure the technique worked, Dizadeim decide to head back.
“What are you doing here?” The deep rumbling voice briefly startled Dizadeim. But that quickly gave way to fear as he recognize the owner of the voice and his anger.
“I was looking for you my lord!” Dizadeim said quickly but without the panic that he felt. “I wanted to inform you about a message from Mistress Vanacyr.” Dizadeim now gaze at the mighty daemon prince, whom current form resemble a mix between a treeman spirit and a demon.
“Go on then,” Xizamiron said, a lot more calmly.
“Razeek Twotail has requested we send assistance north to help them fight the undead.”
“Vanacyr wanted the alliance with the Skaven, she can go follow their orders like some loyal dog!” The intense anger Dizadeim felt wasn't visible on his face.
“I shall let her know,” he said plainly. Bowing, Dizadeim turned to walk away.
“NO WAIT!” Xizamiron shouted. Once again startled, Dizadeim faced the daemon. After long moment of silent thinking, Xizamiron spoke again, “Scratch that, we will go instead. Be ready to march in two hours time, I will get the army ready myself.”
“As you wish my lord,” Dizadeim said bowing deeply. Xizamiron walked passed him heading toward the camp while Dizadeim remain motionless. When the daemon prince was out of sight Dizadeim started to walked toward his tent when he stop again.
' Where was he coming from and what was he doing these last 2 days,' were his thoughts.
Curiosity got the best of him and he started walked down the path he saw Xizamiron came from. Magic was in the air and it was thick. He did not need the technique to follow this trail. After traveling a quarter mile, Dizadeim came to the source of that magic. His eyes told him nothing about the area but his supernatural senses told him everything around him was soaked with arcane energy. He study the area intently but eventually came to the conclusion that even if he study for hours, he probably still would not be able to the understand the purpose of this magic. 'Mistress Vanacyr would be able to tell,' he thought. 'But she is not here...' He knew he had to head back soon. Dizadeim figure the only thing he could do was remember as much detail as possible and write as much of it that he could in a letter to Vanacyr. He was confident that if she had enough information she would be able to discern the magic's purpose...