"Nikyl voppen, mo Kalhaavin."<span style="vertical-align: super;">1</span><br/><br/>Abaddon watched as the man struggled in Astaroth's grasp, staring in horror at his silent friend. Strange creatures... but vermin, like all the rest. Like that traitor, Baal- how he wished he could've ripped his heart out. That scum was the reason they'd nearly been routed, the reason they'd been forced to leave their home behind.<br/><br/>And now they were here- wherever that was. The body he was in was weak, a pathetic excuse for a vessel- the sooner he was out of it, the better.<br/><br/>He made eye contact with the squirming insect in his King's grip, then watched as he too was released, falling to the ground beside his fellow with a scream of agony that quickly faded away to silence. "Hmm... This language is strange. Primitive." He stared around them, observing the size of the buildings in the vicinity. "They are skilled craftsmen, at the very least. As for their physical stature," he scoffed, as he moved towards the two men on the ground, intending to kill them both, "Tis noknt syrn so jitay Daemoria."<span style="vertical-align: super;">2</span><br/><br/>He reached out, intending to rip the heart out of the chest closer to him, when he saw his fingers.<br/><br/>"Eht?!?"<span style="vertical-align: super;">3</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">No claws? What kind of nonsense is this? </span><br/><br/>Annoyed, he lifted each of the men into the air by their necks, then squeezed until he felt bones breaking under his fingers. It wasn't his favorite method, but it was still somewhat satisfying. He let the limp corpses fall back to the ground and looked around at Astaroth.<br/><br/>"A plan, you said?"<br/><br/><br/><br/>1."Never worried, My King."<br/>2."They wouldn't last a second in Daemoria."<br/>3. "What?!?"