Yarost, Blood Devil
Maeve had never seen the general like this. General Samson was known for his ruthlessness, but he always knew when a battle couldn’t be won. “More men!” he screamed. “We need more men!” Maeve watched as hundreds more charged. Dead men, all. The battle had raged for two days and corpses on both sides were piled into fleshy barricades. Fires burned as catapults flung firebrands across the expanse, lacing the air with the smell of burnt flesh and sulfur. “More,” General Samson said quietly. “Yarost demands more.” He’s possessed, Maeve realized as Yarost, Blood Devil formed from sulfuric clouds above. Samson ran toward him.