A demon... Interesting. Ah, I could remember the history downloaded into my homunculi brain. The history of the Demon Wars. The battles and struggles for survival between Alerar and the Tular Plain's evils. Yet, this demon standing before me was calm, quiet, and observant. He was intelligent, he carried an air of dignity. He spoke of history himself, about the Thayne. I knew little about them. Alerar was uninterested in dated religions and magical affairs. My country rose against the ignorance of such things, breaking apart from Raiaera's foolish trust in ancient ways.

The demon allowed me to make the first move. Intriguing. I pulled my goedendag up and held it in my two hands. Obviously, this demon had the fighting style of a hardened soldier. He was quite large, physically powerful just by the looks of him, and kept weapons of brute force. He seemed to care little for speed, even less for stealth. He seemed to be a straightforward fighter, but I knew better than to judge a book by its cover.

This demonic warrior could still house secrets beneath his stoic gaze.

I decided to play it safe. For now. I pulled myself back, pulling my weapon into the grip and reach of a pole arm. Maintaining distance, I started with quick stabs with the weapon's iron tip. Any attempts to close the gap were to be met with the point of the goedendag. I prodded the cow with a burning iron, testing how the beast would react.

This would be entertaining!