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You are glad the Baphomets aren't humans and don't have genders. Mentally though, you've designated all the goats as 'men' and it's hard to get over the sensation of shame for being so scantily clad in front of them.
However, the sense of shame pales compared to the rage you feel towards the useless trembling mask.
<span class="mu-r">"By the saggy tits of the winter hag, ye gormless mangled..."</span>
Before you can finish the sentence directed at the mask, you chew off the last words and focus on the more important crisis.
The Seneschal leads you to the courtyard, all while gabbling away with terror about the 'Wyvern' slithering around in the castle. It had flown in from the south and been spotted by the Watch Tower while the city was sleeping. Now it's crawling about and stalking the darkened halls of the white Castle or flying somewhere above. The goats had lost sight of the enemy, which isn't too hard in the darkness of night. Lanterns and torches held by the Baphomets can only illuminate so much.
And dawn's light is hours away.
It's too easy for something the size of a horse, has two heads and a poisonous stinger for a tail to disappear. All in all, a seriously dangerous monster has invaded your domain.
"Right, form up into herds of at least 3 goats! No one goes off alone, meep." A Baphomet with a very rusty helmet on his horned head barks out orders. You nickname this Baphomet the 'General'. Though it's too grand of a title for a goat who only organizes the guards of the Castle, it will have to do.
"Right, my meeps. Time to go worm hunting! Where was it last seen?" You bark out with authority and desperately try to ignore the inexorable destruction of your clothing.
The Wyvern is airborne and probably still lurking somewhere in the vicinity. The beating of wings can be occasionally heard, but the inky depths of night prevent everyone from seeing it. The thing is an opportunist; it is waiting for one of its prey to be alone before it swoops down to eat.
Already, it has killed two Baphomets and gulped them down its throat.
'Damnation take it.'
A desperate scream pierces the air. Another Baphomet, though it seems that the little goat man survived the attack unseen. Chaos erupts around a corner of the courtyard.
"MEEP! MEEP!"
"Dat was close!"
"Slingers fire!"
The air is filled with the swoosh and whoosh of stones and wings.
