Yaloric sat down by the deep orange glow of the lanterns lining the library. Books of all sorts, big, small, thick, thin, but regardless of the size of the texts, they all had one thing in common; they were certainly aligned with darkness. Rhamiel himself had a small pile of books on summoning at his desk.

He flipped through the pages of a violet book with silver decorations, and a title which bore the words "The Demonic Heirarchy". It's aged and dusty pages contained secrets on how to conjure extremely powerful abyssal beings, beings which Yaloric would love nothing more then to unleash on the pathetic Crew 19.

Though, during all of this, he couldn't seem to get that mortal female with Crew 19 out of his head. Every now and again, the thought of someone who was also part demon in blood jumped into his mind.

"Why is this...why does the thought of her linger in my mind?" Yaloric muttered to himself calmly. Everyone knew Yaloric for his signature crazed laugh, but he isn't always like that. In times of quiet study or calm conversation Yaloric seemed just fine.

"Hmmm...only time will tell if I am just more insane than I thought or maybe there is more to this matter..." he said to himself. Just as he did his green imp flew to his shoulder and perched himself happily. Yaloric smiled and pat the creature on the head.

"I think I will call you...Moriel."

The Director strode into the library, the hole from Daerwyn's sword still pirced his head through and through. He began to count off the numerous volumes in the library. "Flesh graft... lessee, Floor Gaff... Flood Gates... shoot. I know I left it..." his thought trailed off as he saw Yaloric's small fortress of books.

Grinning, he began to walk closer to his old friend. He rooted around in his pocket, drawing forth a piece of meat, which he tossed underhand at the perched demon.

"Yaloric, ol' friend, ol' buddy, ol' pal! What's up?"

"Why hello Director! I've just been looking up some new things on Demonic Magic for some time, it's fascinating what you can learn from these books!"

As if smelling the meat before The Director even came forward, Moriel reared around and snatched the hunk with his claws. He immediately stuffed it into his mouth and began to tear at it with his tiny teeth, even though he looked like he was having some trouble he was perfectly content.

"My, he has quite the reflexes," said Yaloric joyfully.

"What brings you here Director?"

"This," The Director Commented as he turned his head so that the hole shown light through. "Kinda stings. You know..." he slapped it and muttered "Cure Critical Wounds" under his breath. The hole snapped shut.

"Anyway, I'm a gonna go look at Daerwyn and Cast. THAT should be a pretty cool show. Cheek it out, if you like."

At that, he turned around and walked up the flight of stairs, orchestral music accompanying each step.

Yaloric's eyes widened in mild surprise. Daerwyn certainly left his mark even if it was simply a playful act. However Yaloric smirked as the hole simply closed. He turned around back to his book not before speaking to the director.

"I shall be there in a few minutes, there are a few more tasks I must accomplish with this book,"

Yaloric continued to read and take notes on a piece of tan parchment. They were symbols, incants, a whole manner of things that Crew 19 wouldn't like very much to say the least.

Excellent