Gruesome Consideration

     "Your Highest Brutishness, the war missionaries have brought about two hundred new slaves from the Human World above," boomed a towering demonspawn clad in black plate armour. Behind the dark figure's swaying carmine cloak came two crawling human men whom the demonspawn forced to move closer to the throne dragging them by spiked collar chains. The two low-lives seemed a bit bruised and were totally resigned for their fate but otherwise the ragged men did well enough. The hulking demon stopped near to the throne and bowed slightly showing his allegiance - but no more.
     "Damn you, Rishage! Can't you see I am busy. And why do you even bring them here?" Rhissolen, the Dark Monarch and Undisputed Ruler of the 66th Layer of the Underworld hissed anxiously and was simultaneously trying to sit on his uneasy throne chair as comfortable as possible. He imperceptibly fingered a legendary battleaxe Pestilent Cruel on his side. The sovereign's eyes glowed with anger mostly because of the irritating disturbance of his momentary quiet.
     Armour-clad Rishage had been Rhissolen's pawn longer than a century and he was adapted to the monarch's whims and was getting very good at avoiding his hasty agitations - as well as anybody could. Rhissolen was infamous for his short temper and malevolence, even within yardstick of ruthless demon kin. Ignorance of the early signs of anger could turn out to be fatal, and the demonspawn remembered the days when the monarch got tired of boresome routines of ruling the Royal Court. Rishage had witnessed how  his master had grabbed the oversized axe and without any signs of warning had outright hacked his subordinate into pieces with his unnatural strength that even the bulky demonspawn couldn't match for his own. As a creature of pure distrust and logic, he had carefully analysed the dark prince's moods and whims ever since, and based on his sharp observations it seemed that this day wouldn't become his last day as a commander-in-chief. In any case, today, he was delivering the message of a grand victory, not a defeat. Therefore, he felt a surge of safeness and stood steadily in front of the dais. He paced his words firmly. "My apologies for the unpleasant disturbance, my Lord. I assumed that you should be aware of the latest news from the battlefield and our victory that was almost a pure carnage. I bring these two enemy leaders to you as an evidence of my undisputed loyalty."
     "The Underworld is begun to get too crowded," Rhissolen snarled bluntly on the dais, totally ignoring the pleas of his bulky commander-in-chief. "We already have legions of slaves in our fortress, worksites, and mines and Lady Beleth of Thaross wasn't very pleased to see more humans when I sent her a hundred of them last month. There is no need for more thralls of any kind. Even the infamous slavers' guild in Caves of Khaliandros is hesitant to buy more."
     "The tide of the battle is on our side hence the solid traffic of human slaves, my Love," Rhissolen's new love pet Mishra whispered to her master's ears with a soothing voice alongside the throne. Rishage watched the woman with a glance of dissatisfaction. He had never liked the whispering, sly succubus who has gained the current position only by tempting looks and sheer flattery. He knew that the scheming harlot had an agenda of her own - like every demon had - but although Rishage had exceptional skills of perception, he still couldn't get a clear picture on her motives and plans. Mishra, who knew his undisguised doubts and sometimes made fun of him, appeared to be in a good mood as always within the presence of Rhissolen. Albeit, she looked at the two robust-looking men with a great self interest. "Those specimen seem handsome and powerful. They will make good slaves in a variation of ways. Nevertheless, the ultimate question lies ahead - should we keep them or get rid of them."
     Rhissolen gazed carefully at the ragged humans with a thoughtful expression on his face.