Umbra stood at the mouth of the cave, idly watching the rain as it fell on the plains outside. It was peaceful and quiet, but it was strange, almost foreboding that it was raining. It had rained too, on the day he'd left the castle, and again on the day he'd found his companions. Since then he'd attributed the rain as a sort of important marker, that the things that would happen on that day were something he would never forget.

Today was no exception. Their leader, Kethuala, had called the group in to relive the past memories of their earliest ancestors: the original Seven. It was, to quote, an attempt to learn about the Dark Lord, and how they had fought him in eons past. His own ancestor, the Warlock, was one of the evil one's greatest minions, and yet, at the pinnacle of his reign, he and his two other lieutenants defected to fight their former master. He wanted to know how.

He sighed to himself and retreated back into the relative warmth of the cave and sat in front of the fire. If what their leader wanted was information, he would gladly provide.
[hr]The man had a name once. This name was a name that struck terror into the hearts of men and gods, for it was a name of such vile disrepute.

The man's name was Koli. He was a warlock.

He served the Dark One, the Demon Lord, oh ye who tore mountains in twain, he who would conquer kingdoms with a flick of his wrist. The most terrifying being in the land, and he was his chief tactician and warlock. He had taught the mages under the Lord's charge how to utilise only the worst, most powerful spells in existence. He wreaked havoc with them, caused much suffering and loss of life. He enjoyed it. Watching the weak and the fools die so that the superior race could take precedence. All for his master, Xalafoor.

Today was no exception. His lord had marked out a village due for their monthly tax collection. They paid in coin and in flesh; the women produced this far north were exceptionally pleasant and full in body. Perfect to serve as slaves for his master's throne room, or as breeders for the army's demons. He was to lead, of course, since the land feared his magics. The threat of a storm of stars raining down upon their heads was a threat they couldn't possibly ignore. He was week prepared enough; his tome of spells hung from his waist and the tattoos of his many, many spells writhed and swam across his flesh. With a flick of his wrist he could turn a man inside out, or fling him across the land, or bury him in the ground, never to escape, or a myriad other punishments for disobeying Xalafoor. 
That said, he gathered the scroll upon which the decree was written, rolled it up and stored it within his robe. Then he left his tower, bringing along his two daemon door guards for the trip. It wasn't particularly far away; just a short horse ride to the south.

-----

"...and so, by the end of this week, twelve of your fairest maidens and two thousand gold pieces must be procured and awaiting our arrival. If neither are present when I return, you will face my master's wrath."

A stunned silence fell across the marketplace. The looks of indignation and anger slowly spread through the townsfolk, and some began raising their makeshift weapons in earnest. Cries of protest rang from the crowd, and in minutes the whole town was in an uproar. Koli kept his expression impassive; this reaction was something he'd expected. The sheep always needed a little motivation before they turned themselves into willing lambs. He flicked his hand at the nearest man and slowly the farmer rose into the air, crying and raging against his fate. The protests surged forth as Koli held the man aloft in front of the whole crowd. With his magic he amplified his voice, intent on making a spectacle.

"Protest more, mortals, and this is what will befall you!"

He curled his hand into a fist and the man was crushed into a ball, limbs and bones contorted and broken, a loud cry of agony escaping his lips before he fell silent, as did the protests. With his other hand, he released the spectral shackles he kept on his two daemons.

"Daemons, you may feast today. Enjoy."

With a gleeful howl the two winged beasts flew straight for the levitating ball of flesh. They tore into it with a ravenous hunger, splattering the crowd and ground below with blood and gore. As the remaining townsfolk fled screaming, Koli let his voice ring out once again.

"Remember your payment, mortals! I will return at the end of this week to collect your tribute to Xalafoor! If you do not pay, you will all suffer!"