As he drew together the components that would complete his spell he considered the possible benefits that this undertaking would provide him. Malevolus was powerful, perhaps the most powerful being in the realm, but he knew he could not hold onto that power forever, like all of Kali's creations he would grow old and weak. Eventually he would die and his life's work would be lost to the world, a lifetime of study and self improvement wasted because of some cruel trick of nature. For decades the dark mage had studied the tombs of the ancients, searching for the answer, and slowly, gradually, piece by intricate piece he had developed the Spell. The risks were high, but the rewards without bounds.
  Chanting arcane words, Malevolus drew upon the ground, slowly and meticulously, his staff burning a pentagram into the floor of his study. At each of the points candles flickered and burned, and somehow within the etching the air wavered and moved as if touched by an ill wind from a far off dimension. The sorceror did not need his books and scrolls now, he had long since memorised the spell he would chant, every syllable practiced hundreds of times, endlessly repeated, until they were scorched into his mind.
  As the chanting slowly approached its crescendo a great wind rose up and shook the tower that Malevolus had made his home. The twisted, ethereal and half present creatures that made their home with the Lord of Chaos screamed in fear and tried to hide behind (and sometimes inside) each other. None would approach the pentagram for they could feel the being that was to be summoned as it approached across an infinite distance.

  Grizarrad sat within his castle and smirked as another slave was fed to the Khorad beast for its insolence, life was good. Being a Prince of Demons certainly had its benefits and the constant supply of lesser demons to taunt and persecute was just one of many. His daemonic hounds suddenly sat up on their haunches and howled at seemingly nothing, Grizarrad looked puzzled, it was strange for 10 foot long snarling beasts of pure sinew and muscle, with flaming breath and a roar that could cook a man to get spooked by nothing, and it was then that he felt the irritating tug. "Gah," he snarled, "another wannabe demonologist summons me, well this time I shan't kill him........quickly". Being summoned was a constant harassment to the upper echelons of the demon hierarchy, but usually the summoner was too weak or stupid to be worth considering, however, the calls were irritating and gave Grizarrad a headache. With that thought in mind he set off planning to rip the pathetic mage to pieces, or maybe warp his mind and make him rip himself to pieces.

  Malevolus, knew he had attracted the attention of his prey, but he also knew that he had to act quickly if he was to ensnare the creature, rather than have it storm into his home and tear it and him to pieces in an instant. So, perfectly composed he continued his chanting, drawing on all the power of his self training, only a close examination would have revealed the tiny bead of sweat that trickled from his brow.

  As Grizarrad screamed towards the smell of his summoner he began to suspect that something was awry, he was being drawn against his will, his mind felt fuzzy and confused, he began to concentrate a little harder and felt confident that as soon as he entered the mortal world he could rend asunder whosoever should have the gall to bring him there.
  With an explosion of pure magic, and a howling that rocked Cosrin to its core the demon Grizarrad arrived. A quick glance around the study that he had been called to told him that this was the home of no wannabe Demonologist, there were books and scrolls here that had thought to be lost even by the Demons he called Master. A tiny imp, clearly held against its will acted as the familiar for the resident and the pentagram in which he stood was accurate and powerful. He stalked for a few minutes around the magical engraving, reaching out to touch the unpassable field that surrounded him and recoiling in pain. The Demon's eyes flared up with a dark violet fire as his rage increased.
  Malevolus knew that the pentagram was unlikely to hold this beast against a real attempt at escape, especially if the demon called his peers to his aid and so he spoke calmly, but quickly to the beast. He talked of the plans that he had. his spell, he told the Demon what he offered in return for his aid and he told the demon exactly what he needed from him. Grizarrad pondered thoughtfully, true, the offer that had been made by this upstart had been tempting, but he couldn't let the puny elf know that he had an upper hand in these dealings.
   "How would it be if I were to merely take what you offer through blood and fire and brimstone, this would seem to me to be preferable and more enjoyable than acting out this masquerade?" questioned the Prince.
   "Ahh," offered Malevolus, "you forget, I am learned in the ways of Demonkind, we both know that what I offer will be infinitely more valuable when given freely than if you were to take it by force". Malevolus paused, he knew the Demon could refuse, he also knew he had made a tempting offer, furthermore he knew if his offer was not tempting enough then his life would be forfeit.
  For what seemed like an eternity the Demon considered the words that had been spoken, no more were necessary, these two were beyond the usual posturing and defiance required by lesser beings to come to a compromise of this kind. Finally, he gave his reply, Malevolus offered a nod of acceptance and the pact was sealed.

  For five long days they sat, in silence, neither moving, neither speaking, simply waiting, a smile on the lips of the mage.

  Inevitably, as the Elf Mage had planned, the attention of Hirobi, the Holy Monk was turned to the evil deeds unfolding within the Tower of Malevolus. In a cloud of purple smoke he appeared before the Sorceror. After only the merest of smirks Malevolus spoke to him. He told him of his years of study, his fight to summon the Demonic prince, he told him of five days of intense struggle that had ensued at the arrival of the Demon, he spoke of a fear that he could not maintain the deadlock for much longer, and then he asked, he begged for Hirobi to help him defeat the beast and send it back to the plane from which it came. Malevolus knew that Hirobi cared deeply for the realm and would not appreciate the widespread chaos that such a beast would cause. If released this demon could bring terrible destruction to all of Cosrin. It would take the power of many to banish him to his home. While inside the pentagram the Demon was weakened and with a joint attack Hirobi and Malevolus would hopefully be able to force him to leave. Malevolus simply smiled, whilst his mind raced. Would Hirobi suspect the trickery, would he underestimate Malevolus' own power, as he hoped and expected that he would? Further would his plan come to final fruition? Malevolus simply smiled.
  The result was inevitable, in his piosity and due to his trusting nature Hirobi acted as Malevolus knew he would and together they began to prepare for a final assault on the demon, returning him to the plane from which he came. The spell would weaken them both, they knew that, but the results were worth it. So it was, that as Hirobi began his section of the enchantment, Malevolus and the Demon acted on an unspoken signal and turned upon Hirobi. Malevolus raised his arms, swayed from side to side and crushing a dragons tooth in his hand blew the dust towards Hirobi while his back was turned. The Demon meanwhile broke free from the weakened pentagram and began to advance upon the Hero. Hirobi didn't even have time to act or speak a single word, as he suddenly felt the mind of Malevolus scanning his own, pushing his thoughts aside. Hirobi tried to think straight but he could feel himself losing control of his body.
  Hirobi cackled with glee, but it wasn't the cackle of a Hero, it was the triumphant cackle of a power hungry Mage, he glanced around and saw the body of Malevolus lying upon the floor and the Demon salivating over it.
  With his soul returned to its rightful place Hirobi looked with sadness and pity at the crushed body of Malevolus, its encounter with Heroism had not improved its haggard appearance at all, in fact it seemed somewhat frailer and shattered. In his hands he held the soul of Malevolus, he toyed with it thoughtfully, as he considered the unfortunate path he must now take.