Nartholan was able to tell who the primary threats would be from the encounter now. He had to admit, with one of them being capable of magic, there could be a little trouble.
Remembering their faces, he welcomed (Erik)'s arrival and walked along the side of the now rather empty festival, preparing to move to a more... discreet location. No doubt his master was beginning to execute the plan.
Dracuil gazed at the events of the festival. One face stood out.
"Linia... feisty as always... and doomed the same way..."
He turned his attention to political affairs in the world. Relations between the powers "USA" and "Russia" in particular were a little strained. He decided to up the stakes and bend a few more holes between dimensions, allowing small crews of demons and veterans of the Battlefields alike to come into portions of the world to cause a little chaos while corrupting the minds of various officials to take a few less than diplomatic actions.
The results were evident soon enough on news channels broadcasting a deepening split between national relations and once again the speech of a second Cold War. If Dracuil had his way, there would be much, much more than that...