Chapter 29 - Cultists

“Focus harder!” said Elise as she playfully poked Jason in the side.

“Stop!” Jason, jerked out of the way of her prodding finger, laughed, and enthusiastically kissed her before turning to the mushroom again. He concentrated, concentrated some more, and finally the status page of the mushroom appeared without any information missing.

Queen-Royal Mushroom

Item Tier: common

Bonuses: +10 intelligence upon eating, Hallucinogenic. 1 hour effect.

Requirements: none

Durability: 5/5

Special: Ingredient used in alchemy remedies.

He proudly smiled, and Elise gave him an excited hug from behind. Normally the status screen would only be available to Jason, but Elise had taught him a neat trick that allowed them both to see it when he had identified the mushroom:

5 minutes earlier...

“I’m sending you a party invite,” Elise had said and brushed her bright red hair behind her to grin at him. “Once you see it, accept the invitation. Or will yourself to join my party. Either will work.”

“Party invite huh…” Jason muttered. It kind of seemed like a videogame he used to play back on Earth. “Alright. Hit me.”

“Hit you?” asked Elise, puzzled. “Why would I do that?”

Jason just laughed and shook his head. “It means ‘go ahead,’ it’s just a phrase we use back on Earth. Don’t worry about it!”

Elise blinked a couple times and sent him the invite. A moment later and a status screen appeared:

“You have been invited to join Elise Santara’s party, do you accept or decline?”

“I accept,” stated Jason. Immediately Jason saw Elise’s name in the top left corner of his screen with her HP, MP and SP bars next to it. She was level 8.

Coming back to reality and snapping out of the recent flashback, Jason stuck up a hand like he would in grade school and asked his question with an expression of intrigue: “You’re double my level. Does that mean you’re supposed to be stronger than me?”

Elise shrugged and knelt down next to him, clasping her hands in front of her and letting out a low hum. “Kind of. Remember what my sister said? Higher levels don’t necessarily mean that you’re stronger than others of lower levels… but often it does correlate with how dangerous something is. It’s complicated. For example - I wasn’t able to overpower Uvar when he tried to rape me. But you did so easily and you were even lower level then than you are now. Uvar was level 11.” She sneered in disgust upon revisiting the memory. “He got what he deserved. Anyways… Why would that be? How could you overpower him if he was triple or nearly quadruple your level?”

Now it was Jason’s turn to shrug. He hadn’t really thought about it.

Elise gave him a wink and twirled a finger through her hair. “Well if you go to your status page, you’ll see that it says ‘Stat AMPLIFICATIONS,’ right? What that means is that it builds on what you already are. So a man is still physically stronger than a woman, generally. And your bloodline obviously has a part to play that isn’t indicated by level. Let’s imagine level 2 fully grown dragons exist. It would be like if you compared that level 2 fully grown dragon to a single level 20 human. Do you think the human would win?”

“There are dragons in this world?”

Elise laughed. Her laugh was always a melody upon Jason’s ears. He could go a thousand years listening to that laugh and not get tired of it.

“Yes, Jason, there are dragons in this world. But to answer the question for you, the answer is that the level 2 fully grown dragon would still easily win against a level 20 human. That level 2 fully grown dragon would likely win against a thousand level 20 humans. To further my point, that dragon would likely win against a level 200 human, unless that human was very skilled or had lots of items or bonuses that would edge the fight into his favor. On top of that, it very much depends on what stat bonuses you apply your points to and what skills you are proficient in, which isn’t really indicated by the level someone has.”

Jason’s eyebrows creased in thought. “So... basically it’s an indicator, but it definitely isn’t set in stone?”

“Correct!” said Elise, glancing skywards.

“Makes sense to me.” replied Jason firmly. He bent down and picked the Queen-Royal mushroom then scanned the list of ingredients. “Well, we have two down and five to go for the ones your father needs. We’ve also collected three of the others. Let’s keep going, we haven’t been out here long.”

Elise simply nodded in agreement and helped him up from his knees. The smaller woman’s struggling to try and pick him up was a sight to see and Jason couldn’t help but comment on it to make fun of her, despite her playful scowling after he teased about her height again.

They continued beneath the trees as leaves crunched under their feet. The sun was still high in the sky and clouds dotted the blue horizon. Startling him, a bird flew directly by Jason’s face to disappear into another nearby Tree. If he hadn’t tried to dodge it may have just hit him upside the head.

“Are you excited to go to the festival tomorrow?” asked Elise hesitantly from behind.

Jason turned around, and Elise’s eyes darted to the ground when he did so.

Was SHE nervous too? He hadn’t even thought that would have been the case, but he’d been so focused on his own insecurities that it’d been deemed impossible.

He stopped in his tracks, and gently pulled her into a hug. She smelled good… was it perfume of some sort?

“I’m incredibly excited to go. I’m so lucky to have met you Elise. You know... it’s been a couple weeks now since we first met, but it feels like a lot longer than that!”

Elise blushed and tightly hugged him back. “I’m definitely lucky to have met you too Jason, and I’m so happy to know you’ll be MY date tomorrow!”

She smiled up at him and again pulled him into a kiss. Her lips were soft against his skin, and it just felt… right. She held it for a long time before letting him go, and it brought back giddy memories of when he was back in highschool drooling over the first big crush he’d had.

Only this was better.

A loud crackling noise nearby startled the two lovebirds, who gave each other a curious look, and they both sank into crouching positions. If it was a deer, or maybe a boar, they would be extremely lucky to have found one already. Together, with a signal from Elise, they began to creep forward.

They stopped a short distance from where they had thought the noise came from and drew their bows to notch arrows. Another crunch of leaves and twigs came from their far left. They looked at each other again, confused as to how the animal could have traveled such a far distance in such a short time.

Was there more than one?

Elise had been thinking the same thing and motioned for him to stay put. Together they sat in silence, until they eventually saw the source of the noise.

It wasn’t what they had expected.

Directly in front of them, easily seen from their hiding spot in a thicket, a hooded and robed woman stepped forward. She looked to her left, and then to her right, before continuing. The robes she wore were a turquoise color and had decorated pockets laced into the front. Long hoop earrings hung down from beneath her blonde hair, leather boots and leggings were seen leading up her legs before disappearing underneath her tunic, and a sapphire amulet hung from her neck. Lastly, the symbol of an orange flame was etched into the front of her tunic across her breasts between the opening in her robes... and all of it made her seem very out of place here in the woods.

“A mage…?” whispered Elise hesitantly. A scowl lit up across her face. “Why would a mage be out here?”

A moderately powered telekinetic blast tore into both Jason and Elise, throwing them back out of their hiding place. Jason hit the dirt and rolled onto his side, the wind had been knocked out of him and he was severely bruised. Elise had been flung against a tree and was stunned, blood trickled down the back of her head. Their bows had been dropped or flung elsewhere amidst the undergrowth, and laughs rose up from around them.

“ELISE!” yelled Jason in a panic as he scrambled up to run towards her.

Another telekinetic blast hit him full force along the right side of his body and cleanly broke his arm. He both heard and felt the loud snap before he screamed.

“Detect Life is such a great spell...” stated another hooded mage wearing the same garb as the woman. The man, who had a rather gaunt face and was missing a front tooth, stood with an outstretched hand in the direction he’d cast the spell. Meanwhile, another man to his back walked towards the two victims sprawled out in the dried leaves and dirt of the forest floor.

“Thought you two had a nice little spot to spy on us, didn’t ya?”

The more elegant woman joined the gaunt man, sneering as her eyes found the two peasants laid out in front of her. “You took way too long. They could have ran back to the village to warn the rest. Stop being so foolish.”

The gaunt mage scoffed, insulted that she’d suggest that was even a possibility. “I would have caught them if they had. Nothing to worry about.”

Other voices were rising from deeper in the woods. Soon, other men and women wearing the turquoise uniform with the orange flame embroidered upon their chests began to appear from the underbrush in the direction Jason and Elise had been heading.

“Have the beast masters bind them and tie them to their animals.” commanded the blonde witch with a devious smile. “More slaves for our friends in Oblivion…”

The words struck home when Elise finally registered what it all meant. These people… These were the cultists she’d heard about.

She began to cry softly and then violently, and Jason protested by kicking out and throwing a punch before being knocked out with a large cudgel. Streaks of blood were left across the side of his face and a wound joined it shortly thereafter on his forehead, the mage having hit him again maliciously even though Jason was out cold.

The hunting knives Elise and Jason wore were removed by the casters, and their hands and feet were bound with thick rope. In a matter of minutes they were being dragged violently through the trees when Elise saw a large boar unlike any other she had seen in the past. It was larger than a horse, had two sets of curved tusks on either side of its face, and this beast was only the first of many. Her eyes sank down to where one of the large ugly animals was already dragging Uvar’s father and three brothers across the ground - all of them were either dead or unconscious with wounds and bruises covering their bodies.

Uvar, the man who’d tried to rape Elise upon her first encounter with Jason, had been long dead… but his family hadn’t known that. They’d gone out into the woods to look for their kin.

“If you don’t want to end up like them, I suggest you walk and don’t put up a fight.” said the snickering man tying her to another large, hairy boar. His movements were rough and he smelt like burnt wood.

Meanwhile, her mind was racing. These had to be the cultists she had been hearing stories about in the village, who else could it be? What was going to happen to her? To her family? “I can’t walk like this! My feet are bound and can barely move! And what about Jason?! He’s hurt, you must treat him!”

A swift backhand to her face shut her up, leaving a large cut along her bottom lip.

“Hop then.” The man hoisted Jason’s unconscious body onto the back of the boar. “You have enough room to take small steps. Move, bitch.”

***

Vork was under attack, and the screams of the innocent rang out in all directions as Borthome notched another bronze-tipped arrow. He pulled back, aimed, and let the arrow fly to strike a cultist from behind as the man prepared another spell. It entered deep into the neck of his target, piercing both carotid arteries with a huge stroke of luck, and the man dropped lifeless to the grass after a couple seconds of panicked, pained gurgling.

“WE NEED TO LEAVE THE VILLAGE!” yelled Mattis over the loud crackling of the burning shop and sounds of battle nearby. “WE WILL NOT SURVIVE IF WE STAY!”

Borthome glared at him and flexed his large muscles, preparing himself to push forward despite the protests. “ELISE AND JASON ARE STILL MISSING! I WILL NOT LEAVE MY DAUGHTER!”

“AND YOU WOULD SACRIFICE YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY INSTEAD OF ONE? FOR ALL WE KNOW THEY COULD STILL BE OUT HUNTING AND SAFE!” yelled Mattis frantically, thinking of his wife Corela and what would happen to her and their unborn child if they did stay. “I KNOW IT IS A HARD DECISION, BUT ELISE MAY HAVE ALREADY ESCAPED! WE MUST GO!”

Arrows and magics flew about the village and screams arose with the clashing of weapons in two homes nearby.

Borthome looked shocked at the words Mattis spoke, and then looked around. The pregnant Corela, Mattis, Amaia, his wife Estela, and Borthome’s small son Nommen wore frightened expressions while they huddled together behind the burning building to keep cover from the onslaught on the other side.

From around the corner, a scuffle between two farmers wielding knives and a backpedaling cultist tore out onto the grass. Borthome quickly notched another arrow and pulled it back to fire, but an electric shock from an unseen assailant jolted his body and he fell limp to the ground.

“BORTHOME!” screamed Estela and she rushed over to her fallen husband in a panic, forgetting her own safety and hoping to the gods that he was alright.

From behind the cowering family, a malicious laugh loudly sounded out and they all turned to lay eyes on a fat cultist mage with outstretched fingers. His arm and hand were raging with electric current and he strode forward to send a bolt of electricity at the mother. Estela in turn also fell limp after a high pitched scream, jolting from the impact and plummeting to the ground.

Their young son had never experienced such violence before firsthand. Nommen hunkered down with his hands over his ears and began wailing in terror, begging for his parents to get up while he shook uncontrollably.

Corela too started to cry, screaming for mercy and that she was pregnant. Amaia stood absolutely stunned not knowing what to do, and Mattis charged the man.

Corela’s husband lifted up a long steel dagger to impale the caster, thinking only of the safety of his pregnant wife, but was thrown back with yet another powerful jolt of electricity. Mattis stumbled trying to get to his feet, and charged again. This time he threw the dagger from where he stood and it sank into the mage’s stomach.

The caster howled and clutched at his gut in surprise. He drew the bloody knife out while cursing at Mattis and summoned a curtain of flames that wrapped around Mattis’ pale body as he was moving forward.

Mattis tried to shake off the flames in a futile effort, then stopped his charge. He screamed in agony as he was cooked alive in front of his wife, dropping to his knees and then the ground.

“PLEASE SPARE ME!!!”

He began to flail and roll on the dirt, begging the cultist to stop in his last moments living. Before long though, his burnt remains were all that was left of him... with his begging screams echoing in the other’s minds.

Corela couldn’t speak as she watched in shock and only found her tongue once he was truly dead. She inhaled sharply, then inhaled twice in a row to begin hyperventilating. Her eyes went wide, and she clutched at her buldging stomach.

“NOOOOO!” wailed Corela and she sank to her knees in absolute defeat while continuing to hyperventilate in intermittent bursts. She brought her hands up to her face and started to sob uncontrollably. “Gods, why…”

“Tie them down and bring them to the designated area.” snarled another nearby cultist of higher rank as he finished off the man he had been scuffling with. Drawing a long bloodied knife out of the farmer’s heart, he wiped the red juices on his turquoise robes. “Hurry it up, novice.”

The fat man who’d attacked the family bowed, and then came over to forcefully yank Amaia by the hair. She grunted as he kneed her in the back and forced her to the ground. Pulling a long rope out, he and the other cultist began making quick work of binding Corela, Amaia and Nommen.

“Check those two.” ordered the higher ranking and skinnier cultist. The novice obeyed without hesitation and bent down to check their pulses.

“Alive,” declared the novice. He took out a rope and began binding them as well.

His superior was pleased.

“Good.” remarked the skinnier cultist. “The more the better. Take them, I will go help the others take down the remaining men who still choose to fight.”

“M-Mom…?” cried Nommen uncertainly. The little boy was still sobbing, quivering, and blinking rapidly to clear the tears that he couldn’t wipe away with his bindings. “Mom please!”

“SHUT UP!” screamed the fat novice cultist, still clutching his gut and taking out a healing potion to chug it. The red liquid passed between his lips and within seconds his wound began to heal. Then the bleeding completely ceased.

Meanwhile the other ranking cultist ran into the fray beyond their line of sight, and the one who stayed tied their necks together with more of the thick uncomfortable rope. The novice held up the cords attached to Borthome and Estella, Elise’s barely-breathing parents, and pushed them into Amaia’s hands. “Hold these and walk. You won’t be able to run the way I tied those ropes so don’t try, but you can waddle. Pull them, and get moving.”

“They’re hurt! And I’m not strong enough to drag them!” Amaia cried out in dismay. She quickly received a swift punch to the gut that made her double over and drop to her knees.

“I SAID MOVE!” the fat man snarled.

Not wanting another beating, Amaia shakily did as she was asked and kept her eyes off her captor. Her older sister and younger brother both grabbed onto the cords to help so that she wouldn’t have to do it alone. Together, the two women and child struggled to pull the limp bodies of their parents across the disaster of what used to be a village. Corella continued to sob uncontrollably as they went, and it didn’t take long for them to be herded to the platform and billboard that stood erected in the center of Vork. Many others they knew from their village had been bound and taken there as well. Giant tusked boars with strange leather saddles having multiple long nobs were being tied to the villagers. Most of the village occupants had already been gathered there by the attackers, but there were also many of the dead lying about. Many of them were people Amaia knew. Sobbing and wailing was rampant, and to her right Amaia could see Jason and Elise tightly bound with rope a few columns down.

A loud bellow sounded with a large cultist being thrown out of a house and onto the ground. The cultist man coughed up blood and spit before strenuously pulling himself up from his knees. From within the house fighting could be heard, and then a powerful lightning strike ripped the house apart to reveal the blacksmith fighting three more enemies. Two cultists fell as lightning ripped their bodies apart and he raised his hand to deal another lightning strike, but was attacked from behind with a large curved scimitar. It decapitated the unfortunate man, and his shaved head rolled out onto the ground for everyone to see.

He’d put up a valiant fight, but it’d been futile.

From behind one of the houses on the outskirts of the settlement, three abnormally tall humanoid figures emerged. They were all clad in ebony plate armor and wore ebony longswords at their sides. Royal-purple skin with red face-paint markings and black horns made them seem especially savage as they quickly approached.

They were demons, that much was obvious, and a shudder ran down Amaia’s spine as she saw them.

One of the culn barked orders in a language Amaia couldn’t understand with deep guttural tones. The cultist in question responded in the same language and then took off into the burning village. A low groan escaped Estela’s lips as she regained consciousness while Amaia patted her mother awake. She was covered in scrapes and bruises from being dragged so far, but otherwise seemed ok.

Ten feet away, Elandry the alchemist was being kicked violently over and over again and begging them to stop. Eventually they did stop so that they wouldn’t lose one of their prospective slaves, but by that time he was seriously injured. The way things were going, Amaia wasn’t sure if she or her family were going to make it out alive.

If she had to guess, they were all as good as dead.

***

Large chains with iron collars had been fastened around the necks of the captives and their hands and feet remained bound with rope. They’d been shoved into lines, with those not complying being whipped or beaten until they did comply. Jason, Estela and Borthome were all awake now and all of the captives were utterly terrified.

“I can’t believe this is happening…” Estela muttered between sobs with a look of despair. Borthome said nothing, but wore a look of extreme sorrow after having failed to protect his family. Jason too sat in an enraged silence, and Elise to his front just kept sobbing along with her mother.

The cultists had cleared the area directly ahead of the groups of slaves. Runes marked into the ground with a chalky blue powder were drawn out to the front of the twenty lines of men, women and children. The runes stood about ten yards away and were very large, each the size of a person or bigger when completed. The entirety of the central village meeting area was filled with cultists, the now captured slaves, tusked giant boars, and the three demons. The captors all stood patiently by, some of them chatting or even laughing as the old cultist in charge continued plotting the strange runes with powder.

“Done.” said the old dark-haired man over the crying and wailing of the captives. “Is this all of them?”

A curvy blonde woman, the cultist from the forest that had taken Elise and Jason, strode up to him and bowed. Confidence was evident in her stride and she looked at the captives with a cold uncaring glare. “I believe a couple of them escaped into the forest, but it was only a handful.”

The leader shook his head and coughed angrily to clear his throat of mucus. He spat, wiped his chin with his sleeve, and glared at her. “And who was to blame?”

“The ones to blame are now dead, killed by the ones they chased.” replied the woman quickly, making sure that the blame didn’t fall on her.

A long pause ensued.

“I guess those peasants saved me the trouble of doing it myself then.” Uttered the cultist in charge. Their old leader was a tall slender man with a long shaggy beard, and he looked to be in his early 60’s. Dark bags hung under his emotionless eyes and wrinkles created by years of frowning were scattered across his facial features.

He walked over to the front of the lines and raised his hands, commanding absolute authority amongst his people. The cultists, probably ranging anywhere from 80-100 in total, all quickly turned their attention to him.

“As usual, we will need a sacrifice.”

The faces of the villagers went pale. The leader looked around and found his mark. He pointed to the elderly lady who ran the shop in town. “She will do. I doubt she will be of much use to them as a slave other than being used for food. Kill her now and start the ritual.”

The woman’s eyes bulged and she began to whimper in disbelief.

Two brawny mages walked towards the hunkering woman and unlocked the collar. She squealed briefly to flail in a panicked tantrum before one of the men slammed a dagger up through the bottom of her jaw and into her skull. Immediately she went silent, her eyes went wide and her expression became blank. Withdrawing the dagger from her skull, blood began to pour out of the wound. Her body was immediately dragged over to the place where the runes had been drawn in blue powder and it was then irreverently thrown into the middle of a large circular drawing surrounded by the other depictions of demonic sigils. Upon landing, the blue powder burned a brilliant white fire and rose up into the air. Her body began to shrivel, and after bursting into flames it disappeared entirely.

[Ancient Demon Dialect] “As usual, we are impressed with your work Adorek.” one of the culn officers remarked, but still kept looking at the cultist with a snobbish ‘beneath-me’ attitude. “Bring forth the gate. Our lord will be pleased that you continue to do so well.”

The leader of the cultists, Adorek, bowed in reverence.

[Ancient Demon Dialect] “I am honored by your words.” He stood back up straight and walked over to the burning white fires that the runes had created. He raised one hand towards the fires, closed his eyes and mumbled something under his breath.

[Human Dialect] “What’s he saying? What language is that?” Jason whispered to a man beside him. The man, whom Jason didn’t know, shrugged and continued to look down at the ground in depressed defeat.

[Ancient Demon Dialect] “Oblivion, Nagashi Wastelands.” stated Adorek confidently.

The white fires immediately went out, and from the ground around where they had once stood a giant wall of green energy shot into the sky. It loomed high above them and was very wide - splitting off half of the village from view. The wall, when finished growing, was so large that Jason had to tilt his head straight up to see the top. The green energy before them looked like a sickly pool of water on its side with the way it flowed, waved or vibrated back and forth. Jason couldn’t see anything past it, and it dully reflected some of the light back towards the onlookers.

Adorek smiled and took another step forward towards the mass of energy, having done this many times before, when he abruptly stopped as a blood curdling scream and the sounds of battle rang out from somewhere within the green wall. Two balls of flame rocketed overhead and out of sight to startle many of the people present and a stray arrow soared out to clip an apprentice cultist’s forehead, causing the man to curse in surprise before he tried to stop the bleeding.

Adorek was startled. He turned and looked back questioningly towards his followers, and then to the culn soldiers - as if they would have an answer for him regarding this. Then even more screams erupted from the pale liquid and he pulled back to stand beside some of his men.

[Ancient Demon Dialect] “What is going on here?” asked Adorek to one of the Culn.

The culn soldier looked worried, and he drew his ebony longsword without replying. The other culn did the same. [Human Dialect] “There is obviously something amiss here, you fool. It may just be infighting or a challenge between tribes, it does happen from time to time. Everyone, prepare yourselves.”

The cultists drew whatever weapons they had or readied spells to await whatever it was on the other side of the green wall with stern glances or expressions of resolve. The sound of gore and battle grew, and soon it sounded like it was immediately on the other side.

Suddenly out of the green, a lone culn soldier blundered through and tripped, sprawling onto the ground. He was absolutely frantic with the left side of his body badly burned, and picking himself up tried to dash forward into the crowd.

A blur of motion shot forward, and a chaos chain flickering with black-red lightning ripped across the man’s legs, breaking them cleanly before wrapping around the rest of the body as it shocked and burned him repeatedly. The demon screamed in agony and all of the cultists, along with the three culn officers, fearfully stepped back. A second later and the demon was pulled back screaming into the green portal of mana.

Jason’s eyes were wide, and he managed to whisper out a: “What the fuck was that!”

[Ancient Demon Dialect] “Close the gate. CLOSE THE GATE!” ordered one of the Culn officers who had lost his nerve and will to see what exactly was going on. He valued his life more than that. “DO IT NOW!”

Adorek looked agitated. [Ancient Demon Dialect] “I cannot just CLOSE the gate IMMEDIATELY! You know how this spell works! It will power down by itself when the energy runs out!”

An evil cackle rang out to fill the air. A final, pained squeal and loud snap came with it. The laughing grew louder, and louder, until the hairs on the back of Jason’s neck stood up. The voice seemed to be overlayed with another, or maybe even multiple other voices as it reached his ears. The cultist closest to him took a step back and was outwardly very afraid.

Eventually, the laughing died down.

An object soared from the green and landed in front of them to bounce multiple times before settling on its side. It was a head, a culn head with its jaw ripped off to leave an oozing fleshy wound with its eyes burned out and part of the spine still hanging from its base.

[Ancient Demon Dialect] “Captain Xhawhan...” muttered the culn officer who’d just been barking orders. “This… was our senior officer.”

The green wall began to slowly move at its base, then it briefly wrapped around a humanoid figure while the being passed through and slowly emerged. First was a foot, then a leg, and then the rest of the body.

As Trey stepped forward into the bright sunlight, he took a moment to marvel at the foliage and blue sky above him - completely ignoring his potential enemies who stood only a short distance away. He smiled through his infernal jaws, and exhaled slowly, with crimson hellfire absentmindedly flickering out the corners of his mouth. He was absolutely drenched in blood and pieces of flesh clung to him like ticks on a dog. His long tail whipped about and let a corpse it’d pierced slide off of it onto the ground with a thunk. In his left claws was a liver - a recent favorite of Trey’s - and in his right set of claws was the enormous Talsh’Noc’Un Greatword that surged with chaos magic. Beneath the layers of blood, his abdomen rippled and his arms flexed with channeled mana. Veins lit up a bright crimson in sprawling weblike designs to lead into his red irises surrounded by black sclera. To the onlookers, he looked absolutely sinister.

Using his left set of claws, he reached up and plucked something that’d gotten stuck on one of his horns. Pulling it off, he popped into his mouth. It made a loud crunching sound before being swallowed. He seemed oblivious to the people in front of him, until his eyes shot downwards and spotted the three culn officers. Then he noticed the cultists and the slaves, and the creature’s face became blank.

Jason’s eyes grew wide. The black horns, tail, claws, eyes and facial features all looked very demonic; but the body and especially the skin looked human. Was this another type of demon that was hostile to the ones who’d captured them? He could only hope, but at the same time he wasn’t sure that the demon in front of them would be able to take on everyone here. It was unlikely at best, and even if it won somehow... it was probably not interested in helping Jason or the new friends he’d made here. His heart sank with the realization after the small spark of hope had appeared only to vanish an instant later.

That was - until Jason heard the next two words come out of the new demon’s mouth:

[English Dialect] “Oh… shit.”