text: You stand in front of the portal. Despite it being an unusual one, the demons that enter should still be forced to follow the rule of "the summoner gets to boss them around to a varying degree depending on how powerful the demon is". The issue with Greater Demons is that they're very likely to find loopholes in your commands, but lesser ones will obey them readily and without complaint, like very ugly, very hungry dogs.
  
  Three lesser demons climb through the portal with an aggressive demeanor. Once through, their mood changes, and they sit down, staring at you. All three of them are pretty similar: humanoids with four beady red eyes, wrinkly grey skin, a bunch of spikes on their back, and long snouts that contain multiple rows of vicious teeth. You wait for another few seconds, and two winged imp-like creatures pop through the portal as well. These are scrawny and purple, but they have four flaming horns, and their hands spark with lightning and fire, which probably shows some level of magical affinity.
  
  You see that more demons are approaching across the shattered hellscape, but the longer this portal is open, the higher the chance of something terrible and uncontrollable entering this plane. So far, nothing of the sort has happened, and you don't see any larger demons paying attention to the portal. Should you take on the paladins with this cohort, or attempt to amass more forces?
  
  > Amass
  You decide against using this meager amount of demons. The amount of footsteps you heard definitely amounted to more than five pairs, and they're probably well-equipped, since you are just such a high priority badass target.
  
  Another demon plops through the portal. It's some sort of brown slug, with arms and tentacles in equal numbers. You take a seat amongst the assembled monsters and watch as yet another and another fall through the broken barrier between realms.
  
  Suddenly, a massive raven's head with dozens of extra eyeballs attached all around it, looks through the portal.
  
  It pokes through the shifting gate and says, "Hey, how are you doing?"
  
  You panic and look for something to kill it with. The head stares at you, with what must be a hundred eyes, all blinking at random intervals. You pick up a pool cue, and poke it. A couple of the eyes pop like ripe grapes, spraying whatever it is that demons are made out of onto the floor of the chamber.
  
  "Ow!" It exclaims. "That's rude!"
  
  The head pulls back from the portal right as a caterpillar with an axe blade for a head squirms its way in. That must've been a Greater Demon of some sort. You look around at the group of demons, now closer to two dozen strong, and wonder if this is enough.
  
  > Attack!
  You decide that you will send your demons up in a frenzy, and hopefully the element of surprise will be enough to overpower whatever foes are there. You close the portal using a ritual that involves string and a fair bit of yanking, accidentally cleaving a new arrival/recruit in half as it attempts to squirm its way through the portal.
  
  You face your army, and begin a speech, "Listen hard, ladies and violentdemons, we've got a job to do, and if you do it well, you get to kill extra things and eat extra flesh! When I tell you to, we are going to run upstairs, and there are going to be mean humans, who, unlike me, who is a nice human, want to kill you! We are going to kill them instead. So, once again, we are going to rush up there at the same time, and ambush them. When I tell you to. Alright, you guys got that?"
  
  There's a chorus of slobbery, howling affirmations, that probably ruin the element of surprise. You groan. This is probably going to end terribly.
  
  However, the demons still look at you expectantly. You lead them out of the room (which is really way too small for all of them), down the hallway, and stop them at the bottom of the stairs. You peek out, as inconspicuous as possible, and scan the room. It's the Inquisition, and about two dozen of their paladins. A formidable foe, but currently rooting through the main hall and totally oblivious to your presence. The plan might just work.
  
  "CHARGE!" You shout, putting as much heart into it as possible, and pointing up the stairs. The demons, slavering and agitated, erupt.
  
  "Who said that? Where are we charging?" The paladins converse amongst themselves. "Oh shit, look."
  
  The first paladin who notices the demons is promptly pounced upon by a couple of hound-like creatures with six legs apiece. Five claws, six legs, two demons, results in 60 armor-piercing scratches a second. To say that the paladin is reduced to bloody ribbons would be an understatement.
  
  The other paladins cluster into a formation, but not before two of them are hit with accurate blasts of hellfire. The imps cackle and squeal with joy as their targets cry and scream with pain, their impressive armor only serving as an oven, running like headless chickens, crashing into pews and being knocked out. The fires spread to these pews, and then spread to the next pews, and before the wave of demons has impacted the paladin's formation, they're also surrounded by green flame. You can feel them beginning to sweat, and decide to not approach the battle at all. The demons, however, are eager as can be, and swarm past the rapidly developing burn before attacking the paladins. For a moment it seems like the demons will be held off, but you watch as your forces' unwavering destructive power overwhelms the paladins. Winged demons are able to bypass the shields and tear off helmets, allowing another demon—a towering abomination covered in a sheet of porcupine-like spines—to remove their brains and attach them to the far wall via high-velocity spike. The slug demon, which you thought would be pointless, springs into action: spears and swords poke through its body to no effect, and it simply slides up the shafts of the weapons, slurping and sizzling as it goes. You watch the metal, powerful, blessed by the Inquisition, dissolve. Perhaps the demon is just that unholy, but you theorize that it's just acid. Eventually, an entire paladin is engulfed by the ooze, which digests his armor with a gurgling joy, and melts off his face like a painter erasing a failed sketch.
  
  A paladin dumps a bucket of holy water on the slug demon; it begins to dissolve in the same way that its prey does. The paladin is rewarded for breaking formation by a lump of blazing hellfire that manages to travel into the wrist opening of his armor. He cries out, and as his comrades scatter around him, he implodes like a shattered oil lamp, organs spewing out like freshly cooked sausage links and porkchops. The demons take a second to stuff these morsels into their mouth before renewing their assault.
  
  A larger demon has the brightest idea of his existence, and chucks a flaming pew at the formation of paladins. Wood shields ignite, and one massive opening is created as they're all dropped simultaneously. The demons take advantage of this, their bloodthirst culminating in one final effort. They rip and tear, shredding through the remaining dozen paladins as if they were naked children.
  
  Now, you walk forward, and take your place in their midst.
  
  "Look at how you feast! You are the finest force one could ask for, and you will keep feasting under my command, forever and ever!" You announce.
  
  The demons are happy. They roar, screech, and continue shoving fresh meat down their gullets. The main room of the hall is ruined, bloodstained and torched beyond recognition, but it doesn't matter.
  
  The aftermath of the demon attack is business as usual. Well, maybe not quite. You attempt to return the church to its previous conditions, but that is simply not possible. The demons are hungry, gluttonous, and you must oblige, or else they will turn to the last resort, which you really don't want. You are forced to expand your empire. First, you stretch your underworld tendrils to the far reaches of Dizantium, and begin picking out the easy prey. Orphans, the homeless, and anyone else with no one to save them; all of these unwanted people are dragged from their beds (generally composed from torn cushions or scraps of cotton) in the dead of night, and fed to your troops. Any insubordinate minions suffer the same fate.
  
  That's not enough. The Inquisition comes for you, and you must expand your army. You summon additional demons, and these require additional sustenance. You send squads of demons out at night, terrorizing entire tenaments, pulling whole families into the darkness of demonic bellies.
  
  This results in an unintended side effect: more disciples. The survivors of the attacks on orpanages think that they're abandoned by the Inquisition, and turn to you. The survivors of the strikes on slums do the same. You grow into a massive beast, and the Inquisition fights back, with more ferocity. You summon more demons in retaliation. You win, and you win again, and again.
  
  Eventually, you see the writing on the walls. A group of more powerful demons, your finest warriors, storms the central Inquisition temple, and you bring every bishop, every cleric within, before your now-massive assortment of robed fanatics and unclothed, drooling monsters. You execute each one personally, staring into their eyes and whispering blasphemous things into their shuddering ears. The blood doesn't just stain your hands anymore, it stains your soul. You lick it off joyfully.
  
  All of Dizantium is yours. The king is brought before you, a shrivelling mess, terrified to the core, and you execute him in Inquisiton fashion, as you're not yet corrupted past the point of irony and justice. You flay his skin and pour holy water over the revealed muscle. Your disciples, demons and humans together, crowd around to lap at his blood.
  
  You have won. The world is yours, and at what cost? Only your humanity.