Papriki, Malfeas' pepper sweat, Vitriol's krill

"These are the papriki, they swarm angrily over the malfean sky like some form of intricate defense mechanism."

"What is that?" I asked.

"They fly over anything that moves, and cover it in their red-specked greenish secretions. They do not appear to be intelligent for conversation, but they are capable of cooperation, in bringing down prey larger than themselves." My guide added, his soulsteel-coloured eyes hooded, his eight medical degrees hanging from his temples in alternating cascades on either side.

"How dangerous are they, to one chosen?"

"I cannot say, my degrees do not apply to the limitless chosen..."

His smile belied his true feelings, he had fought a chosen, to smile this widely at the question, and had survived! I had to be wary of this demon, his eyes of the darkest, greenest vitriol, he was a player.

"Where to next, effendi?"

"They're tough enough, take me to what eats them..."

"Ah, the Balipai." My guide had paled. "They are dangerous, even to chosen, second only perhaps to a fully-grown Metody, Vitriol's elementals, of which they are thought to be an infant form..."

 

— 15th Resplendant Air, Laboratory Notes, Broken-winged Crane, 567AoS.