The barracks. It's another hot night. If you can call it night. It's always sort of.... red here. Like a perpetual sunset. Beautiful, in a way. She's always loved it. Sapphira, the Crimson Warrior. Murderess. Magi of darkness. So many names and monikers, so very little time for her to care. She leans back in her chair, violet eyes scanning over the view of the main room. Several tables and benches for the soldiers. Nothing special. But this is where her men could rest and talk. Tonight it is empty, however. They're all resting for the coming battle where their general, Lady Sapphira, would lead them to victory. What would the denizens of Hell be fighting for? Freedom. The world above. The sun and the night. But of course, they are defended. Soldiers of light and soldiers of darkness in an eternal struggle. She sighs and stretches, rising from her seat in the darkened room and heading out to the war room in the palace. Once in the room, she sits at the table and goes over the map and the battle plans for the following day. Perhaps they would gain some ground for their master and finally take their prize.