Azurael snorted. A [i]little[/i] trouble with the princess. "I don't think a little trouble quite covers it. She has been banished, and the irony is - it's mostly her magic that is keeping her out." Azurael informed Asmod.

"Should, for whatever reason you find yourself needing to report to the highest ranking Angel, I am she. Mostly though, you will report to whichever demon you will be told to report to."

"Also don't summon the legions of dead. People already find one person able to do that creepy enough. Useful, but creepy. Personally, I think it's cool . . . nevermind." Azurael said, as she realised she was rambling.

"Ohh kay." Asmod said.

Azurael was deep in thought after the verbal equivalent of diarrhea. She hoped T'vor hadn't heard her admission to Grim, but she also kind of did in a way. She snarled, an outward expression of her inner turmoil.