Soul Tome: A wizard's spellbook, a financial ledger, a personal journal, and a contract register. An arcanaloth's soul tome was their heart, their work, their purpose, and the means to their promotion. But most importantly, each page was a doorway to a different room in a private demiplane, wherein these malevolent manipulators might maintain their menageries and secure their secrets. And several pages had been stolen from Threxor's book.

Missing Pages: Howling in fury at the theft, he'd torn his tower apart hunting for clues. And when there was nowhere left to look, he turned on his friends and foes alike. Anyone with the means or motive to harm him; the horrors he'd inflict upon them, the confessions he'd extract from them, the eternity they'd spend jailed as new pages in his book... Nothing. He found nothing. Whether driven by necessity or vindictiveness, the enraged daemon made a most desperate decision. The night hags. They could help.

Sisters Three: The less said about their price, the better, but they gave him the answer he craved. He was to depart from his barony in Gehenna and enter the Material Plane. There, he'd follow the signs, leading him to the strange lands where his missing pages now resided. Finally, they'd remind him that he'd catch more flies with honey than vinegar. And so, months later, the daemon would step off the ship and onto the Sinifer shore, he'd adjust his glasses, and he'd smile.

OOC: It's all about the book. Infernal bargains, eldritch summons, magical imprisonment, and so on. If you'd like to arrange a meeting and/or have a fun idea, feel free to send me a Tell. As for my personal limitations, women only, and nothing gross.