With so many charging him at once, the Head Cultist decides to pull his trump card. He takes a potion from his robes and downs it in one gulp.
His form ripples- and changes. Muscles bulge, horns sprout from his head, his skin grows red and emits a fiery glow and two batlike wings sprout from his back.
With one motion, the cultist takes flight.
He laughs as he sprays fire towards the ones charging him.
“She'd become a governess. It was one of the few jobs a known lady could do. And she'd taken to it well. She'd sworn that if she did indeed ever find herself dancing on rooftops with chimney sweeps she'd beat herself to death with her own umbrella.”
― Hogfather