Inside the cage was an ogre, a terrifying creature that resembled a gigantic man with protruding fangs and brutishly large arms. In a satirical twist, the neophytes had painted its skin black; around the hairy waist hung a dark blue leather loincloth, mocking the uniform of the Storm Petrels. Its beady blue eyes darted back and forth over the crowd and it licked its bulbous lips eagerly, eliciting cries of terror from a few close by—ogres loved the taste of human flesh.
Varula Soma gestured for the creature to be brought into the very center of the courtyard and allowed the neophytes to step back. “I know you fear this monster, but we are greater than it. Trust me when I say that all we have to do is exercise our own power.”
He pulled a key out of his fur skin robe, and ignoring the cries of protest, unlocked the door to the cage.