What are demons?

Of the key players in Raven’s Purge, between 3 and 6 out of 9 are demonic, depending on how you count things (and arguably Zytera should count double, being Zygofer + Therania, as should Merigall from being overinvolved in everything). We’re only in this mess because Zygofer opened a gateway to demon lands wide open during the fourth Alder war; and after that all ended, the Bloodmist that kept everyone huddled in their village afraid for 260 years was caused by, yes, demons.

And yet we know very little about how demons work.

The word “demon” is unhelpful.

The immediate problem is that the word “demon”, like the ancient Greeks’ word “barbarian”, merely means “not from here” (GM’s Guide, p. 81.) In my headcanon, this is incidentally why demons can inherently never wear Stanengist: it’s not for them.

But that doesn’t tell you what they’re like. For instance: it sure seems like demons like the colour red. The Bloodlings and the Bloodmist, obviously; paintings in Merigall’s chambers of their home world Churmog are mostly red (Raven’s Purge, p. 201); Vaerefor also really likes the colour red and hates all others (The Bloodmarch, p. 95), and they’re from a different demonic world, Harachne.

But the Dreamstress (ibid., p. 96) is from Eoni and doesn’t have a thing about the colour red; and Merigall has rare dancing mog (Raven’s Purge, p. 201) which can assume “exciting shapes and colours”, so it’s not like Churmog can’t do any colours other than red. Although it might be that most demons find non-red colours disturbing, and Merigall is human and/or kinky enough that they delight in sensory experiences that would make most of their peers blanch. It wouldn’t be the first time.)

Or: it certainly sounds like the substance “mog” is something that lets you glue stuff to other stuff, with often horrific results. Canonically e.g. harpies (GM’s Guide, p. 105) and Zytera (Raven’s Purge, p. 29) are the result of taking things that shouldn’t belong together and adding mog and hideous demonic magics; and it’s the substance used to create misgrown in Zytera’s Mogatorium (ibid., p. 207ff), or to bring demons into this world, e.g. because they’re inherently shapeless (GM’s Guide, p. 28) and need something to latch onto. Merigall is made entirely of mog (ibid., p. 36), which might explain why they can shapeshift.

But Zytera is convinced that if they can work out how mog works, they can “become immortal and […] create armies of demon warriors” (ibid., p. 32), which on the face of it is weird because mog is apparently merely the stuff sticking Zygofer and Therania to the back of a giant spider. But Zytera is a specialist in this stuff, so maybe there’s something about mog that we don’t get? (Unless they’re just old and mad, and there’s a reason why almost 300 years of research into demon magic haven’t produced anything of significance.)

What’s the deal with ether?

The GM’s Guide (p. 31) says “Zygofer and Merigall sealed the nexus and strangled the flow of ether through the passage, a flow that kept the demons alive. The beasts weakened and many perished.” This is what led Krasylla to the negotiating table, after which “The only remaining threat was the unstable nexus of Shadowgate pass, from which bloodthirsty demons sprang forth regularly. However, the demon lord Krasylla butchered most of these intruders and enjoyed his bloody existence in the human world.” (ibid., p. 33).

This isn’t surprising. If many demons are taken aback by things that seem commonplace to Ravenland Kin, like colours other than red, then it follows that their biology might well rely on stuff that you can’t get in Ravenland, or at least not easily.

Maybe ether is like oxygen?

The immediate problem with saying that ether is like oxygen is that getting rid of the flow of ether didn’t kill anything like all of the demons.

But maybe most demons need ether to live, but some don’t? After all, if you unleashed a deluge on the Ravenlands, most Kin and fauna would be pretty unhappy, but fish and ducks etc. would be unfazed.

So let’s say some demons can manufacture ether from oxygen, or from some other similarly-commonplace substance in Ravenland. Either because they have an innate capability to do so, or they acquired some method of doing so before coming through the rift.

But they should presumably still prefer ether, right? The same as how in science fiction, the first thing anybody does if they can is take off their space suit helmet. Breathing canned air just isn’t the same.

In that case, you should expect places where demons hang out to be full of ether, somehow, and probably uncomfortable for humans and other Kin. If they turned the oxygen into ether, it’ll be literally unbreathable. If they merely did some other kind of chemical or magical reaction, with a bunch of toxic-to-Ravenland-Kin substances as a byproduct, it’ll be merely uncomfortable, at least in the short term.

(Of course, it might be that ether is actually a narcotic for Ravenland Kin. That might explain a lot about sorcerers.)

But Krasylla is happy in Ravenland, the book says.

Maybe ether is like food?

Again, the immediate problem is that demons that random sorcerers have summoned since time immemorial, accidentally or deliberately, have coped fine in Ravenland. (Often by killing and eating said sorcerers.) “Watch out, or demons will eat you”, parents said centuries before demons were a commonplace. And we know parents never lie to children.

Maybe those are weird demons, though? The equivalent of commandos, special-ops? They’ve trained for this hostile environment, and if they die, it’s unfortunate but not a huge problem for the people who sent them through. “This brave demon knew the risks they were taking” the demonic masters at home will say, nodding sagely.

But if suddenly a sorcerer flings the rift wide open as a last-ditch, Hail Mary gambit, that changes things for the politicians and generals in Churmog. Maybe they can make a bold, decisive move: to invade, to colonise. And if you’re going to send an army in, you can’t rely on finding all the resources you need in situ. (Ask Napoleon how that went for him in Russia.) You’re going to have carry nearly everything you need with you.

So the logistics demons would have balked at the prospect of how much food they’d need to take with them to invade a hostile biome. But if there’s a regular, reliable source of ether there now, that changes things a lot. You can bring through the demon equivalents of plants and cows, rather than having to stockpile demon meat ahead of time and then watch as your army eats through it at an alarming rate. Once you’ve established enough of a beachhead and you can grow food there, it’s as good as your lands back home from a supply chain point of view. Of course you’d try that.

And then your crop and cow equivalents suddenly start dying…

Why should demons be either plant or animal?

As a final thought: we know that demons, at least from Churmog, are morphy. Merigall is a literal shapeshifter; Krasylla (Raven’s Purge, p. 37), Marga and Martea (ibid., p. 158) can eat people and manifest their shape, at least briefly. Add to this what we know about mog being used to glue disparate things together, and the almost purely-random nature of demons (to design a demon, the GM’s Guide says, pp. 82-84, roll on this bunch of tables and see what you get), and it’s pretty clear that demons are conglomerations of random stuff more than they are carefully-designed individual creatures.

(Not that even modern-day humans can claim that we’re just one being. Where would we be without our mitochondria and gut microbes?)

So, for all that the sort of toxic masculinity podcaster who boasts about an all-meat diet should remind you of at least one demonic NPC: why should demons specialise? Why shouldn’t demons have organs they can use to make energy from ether? (Maybe not enough to survive indefinitely, but that’s better than nothing.) Isn’t it a bit racist to insist on being only one of plant, herbivore, omnivore or carnivore?