Running through the cracked up dry landscape on my bare feet was not how I planned on this day starting, but I can’t let the demon get too far ahead otherwise he’ll just slip away, and I need this to talk. Dillon is already ahead of me and gaining fast, cheater. I’m not wasting any energy on hurrying up, just waiting until I’m close enough to poke and prod the weird beetle cross thing in horrible ways until it gives me what I want to know.
Dillon leaps up into the demon’s back and breaks off its two back legs, then casually questions it. I have more of an interest in torturing it until I get the information that I want, not very interested in being nice today. I’ve been here way too long to actually care. After pulling apart most of the carapace, it squeals in some demonic language, mostly gibberish.