Arannis slowly stood from his tent. He flipped the sign labeled "Healing Services" so it read "Closed". Arannis approached the golem he had just witnessed mow down a small horde of undead. Arannis mused that he should get one like that to defend his tower. As he walked up to the golem, the sorcerer hurled a few motes of flame at undead stragglers, focusing his will to sear holes through their rotten bodies. As the distance between himself and the golem closed, Arannis finally spoke, "I was hoping this camp would be fortified enough to avoid dragging me into such nonsense." When he reached the golem he spoke once more, pointing to the undead he felled, "I rather dislike resorting to such unrefined techniques."

“I prefer to leave such brutality to others,” Arannis explained, “My time is too valuable to be wasted with such things.”

As he spoke, Arannis pulled a piece of chalk from his pack and drew a circle on the sandstone beneath himself. He drew crooked and dissonant runes within the circle, ocasionally lifting a hand to cast more flames and turn back the approaching undead. After the thirteenth sigil was drawn, Arannis stood and walked ten feet from the circle. He closed his eyes and reached out his hand. In a deep, guttural tone Arannis spoke a word in the demon tongue. He repeated it twice more, and the chalk circle began to glow a scarlet color. It darkened, and then brightened into a solid portal. Slowly, a beast rose from the scarlet void. It was a creature of nightmare. Six limbed with a hard exoskeleton. A fur covered body and fangs dripping with flame. Long insectoid wings unfurled from the creature’s back and it took to the sky. The creature looked about, and turned to face the camp. Arannis immediately barked something in that infernal language. The risen demon flinched as if physically struck. It took off in the direction of the advancing undead. When it reached the horde, it opened its maw and spewed hellfire over them. The dry, brittle undead burst into flames and the creature landed. It reared back and tore into the undead with its claws, rending the rotten flesh asunder. It bit into its foes in an enthusiastic frenzy. It enjoyed the carnage.

Arannis stood and brushed himself off. He casually strolled back in the direction of the camp. At the entrance, he stopped and drew one last rune upon the sandstone. He drew it four more times, forming a pentagon. He stood once more and returned to his tent, lazilly flipping the sign outside back to “Healing Services”, as he sat down.

"I am not interested, thank you," Arannis said, sounding bored, "Now please leave my tent before you scare away potential customers."