A Demon Lord's Ultimatum!
Dengar suddenly snaps out of his reverie. "My friends, something is wrong. I felt an outside force end my spell, with sudden and deliberate finality. Someone knows we are here, and isn't happy about it. I believe that we should make haste to rescue the remaining giant, reset the plane, and leave with extreme haste!"
Almost at the exact moment that the words leave Dengar's mouth, a demonic figure appears before you! The figure standing before you is darkly handsome, an ebon-skinned man standing nearly 9 feet tall. His slightly pointed ears, yellow fangs, and six-fingered hands mark him for the demon he is. In a quick-draw rig on his back, is a huge greatsword, i.e., a greatsword made for a nine foot tall being. The figure wears a headband-style crown, made entirely of ruby, which glows with an eerie light as small, bright white shapes dart around inside the crown. No doubt, these are the souls of his unfortunate enemies. Of the heroes gathered here, only Delbin and Sphynx's eyes twinkle with recognition. Both have faced him in combat before. Both are still here to tell the tale. The fact of which the figure seems to be keenly aware of.
However, everyone in the party can tell, quite readily, that the demonic figure isn't really here. This is a projected image, a personal message, meant only for yourselves. The figure smiles and bows, and begins to speak.
"My, my, my. So many of my enemies together in the same place! Jynx, Louis, Dengar... we've never met in person, but you've destroyed so many of my minions, and foiled so many of my well-laid plans, that you're almost like family to me. You know, those cousins that you love to hate, but only see once every 5 years at family reunions? As for you two," he says, indicating Delbin and Sphynx, "Being in your presence always thrills me. Delbin, I see you still have your little toy following you around. I must say, I'm not sure if you're extremely clever, or hopelessly insane, carrying around that god-killer, the way carpenters might carry their tools with them." The figure chuckles evilly. "If you ever lose it, I'd like to have a re-match. I think your little toy gives you an unfair advantage."
The last person that the figure addresses is Sphynx. "Ah, yes, my old friend from days long gone. I'd almost given you up for dead. But you're too clever for that, aren't you? You're like a bad copper penny, you always turn up somewhere. I heard that you once considered taking over a layer of the Nine Hells to call your own. I would really have loved to see that. But I guess the climate wasn't to your liking? Tell me, where are your friends? The big ox, and the know-it-all? Hmmm? I hope nothing has happened to them," he says, his words dripping with sarcasm. "But oh, it's only been about a hundred years since I last heard tell of them, so I guess that might a bit much to hope for. I guess that being a divine lackey keeps a person busy. But I do wish they'd at least send me a card."
The figure pauses a moment, as if considering something, then continues: "I guess I should get to the point, shouldn't I? None of you seemed pleased by my attempts at humor. I was wondering what was taking my minions so long to report. I guess you didn't play nicely with them, did you? My warning to you is this: I know that you are all powerful, and that you think that you can come and go as you wish, but I am here to tell you that your days are numbered! I am going to enjoy watching you squirm, as you find yourselves helpless to keep my prophecy from coming true. You will all be swimming in my crown by the time this is all over. This little demi-plane means nothing to me, but your knack for continually stumbling into my affairs has finally landed you in trouble that you can't get out of! I have powerful allies, and all of us are working to carefully craft the means of your doom. A few of my allies have a personal score of their own to settle with you, and so much the better. I took the destruction of my minions as a declaration of war; and I am here to tell you, that this is a war that you cannot win! Farewell, old chums, I hope that you die well!"
And with that, the figure vanishes, as quickly as he came!
Everyone: What do you do?