With her own hands, lips and hips, of course!

The moment she'd finished scouring herself clean of wax and chicken-feathers, Xylyra looked within herself, deep into her own soul, into the paradoxical city of stonework and sin she called her Realm, and willed herself to travel there.

She needed to do some quick maintenance, first, before she could get down to the serious business of managing The Quelling.

The first thing she did was retrieve a small box of gold coins from her private stash of mortal monies and trinkets, and take it back to Avana so she could pay off her tab at the Adventurer's Guild. But while handing over the gold to the Guild receptionist did staunch the hemorrhaging for now, she noticed that the infraction for violating Guild policy didn't quite go away. She would need to go over the agreement with a fine-toothed comb later. Curse this La Cour woman, she was worse to bargain with than a djinn.

Xylyra fired off a quick Vision to her newest Warlock, informing her that she had some business to take care of in her Realm, and would not be physically present on Absoterra for a while. She assured Tirra that this would not affect her Disguise boon. In fact, Imps were in ready supply. So, provided she could access a source of Healing, she was welcome to Summon away. "Beware that their hearts are more clouded with lust than with wrath at the moment," she added, just to prevent any misunderstandings.

She was delighted, then, when five of her Imps vanished one by one, only to be returned to her minutes later, happier than when they'd left. Oh yes, this new Warlock had potential. What she lacked in wiles, she more than made up for with sheer bloody-minded tenacity. Was this what an overly generous Pact did to a mortal? Or had she simply stumbled upon the right one?

"The next time I'm in Avana," she whispered into Tirra's daydreams, "I hope that you'll do that all over again, so I can watch." The flustered sputtering that echoed back through the psychic connection brought a rare smile to the Succubus lips. How could a creature be so adorably gormless as to wrap back around to charming again?

Inspired by this exchange, Xylyra set about Quelling resistance in her new territory.

The next few weeks didn't go well. Her Mephits chipped away at the enemy's defenses, and she even managed to capture a few of Gedeos's Nexus nodes. But until she either achieved a full victory, or else abandoned the contested territories, she could not reform his Nexi her own personal use. All this land, all these Imps, boosted her primary stats and energy pools, and nothing more.

Worse, though, the Demons and Mephits loyal to him managed to push through her lines in places and begin contesting some of her nodes. Normally, she would send one of the Succubi from her court to open negotiations with the Mephits, or perhaps sneak into an enemy camp and seduce one of their commanders herself. But Gedeos was as conniving as he was vile, and it showed in how his minions conducted themselves. The Demons that mattered never lowered their guard, and the Demons that didn't were so afraid of their commanders that she needed every Succubus she could muster just to maintain the Siren Song 24/7.

Although she adored the eager sacrifices of her newest Warlock, it was simply not enough. She needed a true game-changer, and she didn't know where to find one.

And then, to her surprise, one of her Pacts began to flare up.

It was the new Warlock, Tirra. But why was hers the only one that was reacting to her plight? She considered the terms of the unique pact she had made with her.

"Let us know no fear, for we shall encourage each other"
"Let us know no weakness, for we shall empower each other"
"Let us know no foolishness, for we shall impart wisdom to each other"
"And let us know no loneliness, for we shall accompany each other"
"For eternity and a day, lest one of us wish this Pact dissolved"

Yes, there it was. The wisdom clause of the pact lit up plainly in her mind. So her adorable new vassal needed guidance. So be it. Xylyra took a moment to compose herself, and then reached out to Tirra's mind, doing her best to project an air of confidence, mystique, and above all, wisdom.

"Yeah, no. That wasn't me. I've been brewing Chillleaf and getting my hair done all day."

"Oh." It made no sense. Were the magics that comprised the Pact compromised, somehow? But then she felt the howling cackle well up inside her Warlock, before it spilled out of her mouth.

"What were you doing just before the Pact told you it was time for this Wisdom call?"

Xylyra wasn't sure she liked where this was going. "I was contemplating the intricacies of managing my Realm," she said carefully. She thought that she had revealed nothing, but this statement only made her mortal vassal laugh even harder.

"That explains it, then! Oh, my beloved Queen of the night... so wily... so suggestive... but oh so naive, in your turn!"

Xylyra wasn't sure whether to be amused or angry. "Out with it," she said finally, "what do you know that I don't?" Somehow, this, too, amused Tirra.

"But that's surely the purpose of this communication, oh Mistress! For me to tell you what I know!
For you forged a Pact of equals,
and as equals, be our talks.
Forever and a day,
or until one of us walks."

Xylyra's jaw dropped. The Pact itself believed that it was time for the mortal to advise her?

"So you see, now, my Queen?"

"Yes, I... appreciate the humor of the situation."

"What specific problem were you trying to solve right before our Pact was invoked?"

Xylyra sighed. "I'm mired in a land war. I need to win it quickly and decisively." And somehow, even that made the Warlock laugh. "Just how much Chillweed have you had today, anyway?"

"Not that much! And anyway, I'm sober now. This is just damned hilarious. Because I think I know a guy..."

Oh, no.

"And best of all, you know him, too!"

What had she gotten herself into?

"I actually just left his place. I just need to walk Amellia home and then-- what's that?" Xylyra could faintly hear someone else talking in the background.

"What!? Is that her, right now? Can she hear us? Are you communing with your Demon in a public place!?"

"Don't worry about it. Gedeos made me do far worse with a lot more people around." That wasn't at all what Xylyra had been worried about. The implications of a Pact of Equals were beginning to sink in. Still, for the moment, the benefits outweighed the drawbacks... she hoped.

"Good news. Amellia says I don't have to drop her off. We're going to just head back to Shiroe's farmhouse together." Wait, farmhouse? How much had she missed? "Meet you there in about ten minutes?"

And so, Xylyra checked over her appearance before she left, Glamouring her face, nails, hair and clothing to be just so. She needed to convey the impression of not just a sex goddess, but one that could lead armies. Hide the cleavage. Side slit in the skirt. Serious, but not cold. Just a hint of humanizing color to the cheeks. She decided the pauldrons were overkill, but she went with the male Tiveran millitary officer's off-duty hat. She knew that she could pull off wearing it ironically. Now it was time to find out if it suited her when worn sincerely.

And as she checked herself out in the mirror, her face began to stretch and distort, her features twisting into a grotesque mask of cruelty. For Gedeos's forces had just seized the node that powered her Polymorph Self ability, and apparently, they had a way of manipulating it.

After throwing the hat on the floor in frustration, Xylyra turned herself Invisible. Then she willed herself back to the physical world. She veered towards Tirra's current location, hoping that her magic would land her reasonably close to where she needed to be. It was not an especially precise maneuver, but it beat re-appearing wherever she'd been standing before she came here.