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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Metea" data-source="post: 7378122" data-attributes="member: 6939041">Metea: the shadowsMetea's gaze flickered back to Otiroth.Perhaps she was trying to be something she was not.She was a demon, but not like these pathetic wretches."Now you have awoken the wrath of my servant! Your suffering shall be delicious!" Metea shouted this in Infernal, before raising one hand to prepare a strike.She was counting on two things, really. One, that the creatures even spoke Infernal- she hadn't understood its clacking before. Two, that if they did, they would be distracted enough by said berserking madwoman to maybe not catch onto her own shaky grasp of the dialect. Either way, suffer they would. She just had to be creative.Metea loosed an eldritch bolt right towards the equivalent of the furthest demon's... left nostril.<Spellcasting: Eldritch blast. Hit- 21, damage 1></blockquote>