A BIRD IN THE NIGHT.

independent rp blog for MITHRUN OF THE HOUSE OF KERENSIL from Dungeon Meshi. as loved by nísa. established 2024.

[osolin]

TEMPORARY PROMO !! low activity D&D OC multimuse. loved by nísa. est. 2024.

[shiroganejpg]

there's this lad who was the captain of my football team for seven seasons back in the day (Gordon Strachan) and he is the most sardonic oul get who comes out with the FUNNIEST quotes and I ALWAYS think about Mithrun as a diplomat. and listen I know Mithrun wasn't invited to be a diplomat bc he's "not that friendly" but I'm just saying. it would be so feckin funny. he's sitting there deadpan while Kabru is literally crying. should I make more of these

[invre]

While the guards have control over when the prisoners use their magic, Mithrun has never really seen much need to hold the reins too tightly. The criminals of their squad tend to have enough respect to be obedient, and enough sense to know that he can suppress it at any time. So, all he really does is step back so that Marcille has the room to do what she needs, arms folded and watching intently.

" Huh. "

That is, admittedly, not what he was expecting. Birds, bugs, bats... but, he doesn't really care. It is fast, and it'll get the job done. He just watches after the familiar as it goes, and then just stands there and waits. It's quite the scene: him standing, arms folded and completely impassive, while Marcille uses her entire body to send this thing flying around.

All Mithrun hopes is that nothing eats it. It doesn't look particularly strong. Having to kill and then revive her would be time spent away from their mission.

" well ? " he asks once the skyfish had covered all their ground, hopefully forming an idea of what lay ahead. " any large monsters ? "

[dungeon-delicacies]

The amount of information that she got from the quick flying monster would have been overwhelming for any other mage, but with it being her favorite, it was second nature to process everything. The damaged buildings and the blood of adventurers that had gotten a bit too far dotted the landscape.

"I'm not seeing anything yet, but... it does seem like- h-huh?!"

Marcille stops speaking as the monster comes into view. A dragon, of course it had to be a dragon, and from the looks of it, it was hungry and ready to devour anything it could get including the tasty little morsel that her familiar would be.

She starts to move rather erratically as she attempts an escape. She just had to get enough distance to cut off the connection, that's it, and just as her precious familiar is chomped in half, she manages to come out of the connection with a gasp. Marcille takes a moment to calm down before reporting her findings.

"A dragon... A red dragon is active.. maybe 50 kilometers north. If we're able to take it down, it should cause enough of a shock to get the dungeon lord's attention... b-but that thing is really active right now? Should we wait until it calms down?"

Even with her talent, she couldn't help but be a little afraid of it. Maybe it was the first person view of getting bitten in half by it only a second ago.

[invre]

As Marcille begins to flail and throw her weight around in a panicked manner, Mithrun just glances sidelong at her — despite the fact that, should her familiar be eaten, it could be quite the hinderance. If she was to sustain brain damage from it, the process of killing her and then reviving her would both delay their progress, and weaken her physically as her muscles and fat are depleted. Certainly not ideal. They'd had to kill Fleki many times for the same reason, though he isn't sure Marcille and Fleki even connect to their familiars in the same way.

Regardless, she manages to disconnect seemingly just in time, as she returns to herself with a gasp. He raises an eyebrow, and listens intently once she has gathered herself enough to speak.

" A red dragon. Mmh... "

He looks back into the direction she had overseen, and stares thoughtfully for a second. Could they, just the two of them, really stand against a red dragon ? However skilled they may be as casters, it's a big ask of a squad, let alone a team of two. That said, they don't really have many options here, as instability grows as the dungeon lord's paranoia does.

He shifts his stance, and it's clear what he intends — perhaps not the wisest idea, given his inability to recognise his own mana levels, and their need for all their firepower in a fight. It would also be quite the hinderance if he were to collapse in the middle of a great fight ( or pass out and get stuck 50 kilometers away ), but of course, their Captain has always been reckless in pursuit of his goals.

" I'll take a look, and see if there is anything we can use to our advantage. "

[invre]

also, the rpc is quite quiet here ofc so I also joined twt and while it's also quiet it's a bit more active, and everyone is sooo sweet. I recommend 🥺

[bloodscribed]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ? a collection of various questions that can be asked. feel free to change around anything that needs to be !!

" what do you mean ? "

" oh, so now you can tell me ? "

" are you asleep ? "

" do you hate me or something ? "

" can i help you with that ? "

" is that blood ? "

" where did you find this ? "

" do you remember how it used to be ? "

" do you miss me ? "

" can you turn out the light ? "

" did you have a nightmare ? "

" will i always be second best ? "

" why do you love me ? "

" did you apologize ? "

" do you want more rest ? "

" are you okay ? "

" are you going to finish that ? "

" where are you going ? "

" is that smoke ? "

" didn't you quit drinking ? "

" does your mother know ? "

" are we going to be parents ? "

" how do i look ? "

" can i hold you ? "

" is that a puppy ? "

" can i kiss you ? "

" where did that scar come from ? "

" can you hear my voice ? "

" will you shut up for a second ? "

" are you satisfied ? "

" where are you ? "

" where the hell did you go ? "

" why do i smell smoke ? "

" did you try to make me dinner ? "

" will you go out with me ? "

" will you go on a date with me ? "

" will you marry me ? "

" could you please kiss me goodnight ? "

" are you kidding me right now ? "

" did you shut the door on your way out ? "

" can you see me ? "

" did you get a picture of it ? "

[invre]

Mithrun rises to his feet from where he had been crouched, and he looks around at the carnage they had left behind them. It is a given that any squad will be reliable, since they are a task force made up of only the most skilled casters — but they're working only prisoner-to-guard, without the support of a squad behind them. All things considered, they're progressing well.

" Don't know. " He's scanning the corpses, then looking further down the corridor. " The dungeon lords will often stay at the lower levels for their own security, unless something significant changes in the dungeon that will lure them out. "

...But they have taken out a number of monsters already.

" Yeah. You can handle it ? "

[dungeon-delicacies]

Something big would have to be done then... with the higher concentration of mana, it was likely they would run into a larger monster soon, one that was big enough that the dungeon lord would be unable to ignore its loss.

"Of course, I actually have something perfect for this!"

If something happened, it wasn't the strongest physically, but it made up for that in spades with speed. Marcille took her time to prepare the familiar perfectly!

She smiles brightly as she stares at the perfect creature in her hands, and she goes to take out a blindfold from her bag to help her not get overwhelmed with the duel senses that this gave her.

"All right, take to the skies, skyfish!"

The silly worm-like familiar zips into the air as Marcille pulls the blindfold over her eyes. Using her whole body, she starts directing it, getting fast aerial images of the area as she looks for dangers and sufficient bait to get the dungeon lord out of hiding.

[invre]

While the guards have control over when the prisoners use their magic, Mithrun has never really seen much need to hold the reins too tightly. The criminals of their squad tend to have enough respect to be obedient, and enough sense to know that he can suppress it at any time. So, all he really does is step back so that Marcille has the room to do what she needs, arms folded and watching intently.

" Huh. "

That is, admittedly, not what he was expecting. Birds, bugs, bats... but, he doesn't really care. It is fast, and it'll get the job done. He just watches after the familiar as it goes, and then just stands there and waits. It's quite the scene: him standing, arms folded and completely impassive, while Marcille uses her entire body to send this thing flying around.

All Mithrun hopes is that nothing eats it. It doesn't look particularly strong. Having to kill and then revive her would be time spent away from their mission.

" well ? " he asks once the skyfish had covered all their ground, hopefully forming an idea of what lay ahead. " any large monsters ? "

[girlashfur]

new tumblr game. put in the tags a GENUINE flaw your fav(s) has. cant be something like "too kind" or "loves too much" like something genuinely bad messed up morally wrong they are or have done

[dungeon-delicacies]

Starter for @invre

"There, that takes care of that."

Holding ambrosia tightly in her hands, Marcille takes note of the monsters that they had cleared out out of necessity. They were getting closer to the bottom of the dungeon, and while the monsters were getting more common and dangerous, they were easy to turn into ash.

"Do you think the master of the dungeon is close, captain?"

Marcille hoped so. The magic the dungeon lords wielded surpassed all that she had studied before. It would be difficult to get the information, but if she had the opportunity, she would take it.

"Though... it doesn't quite feel as though anyone is there. Maybe we should send out a familiar to check the area..."

[invre]

Mithrun rises to his feet from where he had been crouched, and he looks around at the carnage they had left behind them. It is a given that any squad will be reliable, since they are a task force made up of only the most skilled casters — but they're working only prisoner-to-guard, without the support of a squad behind them. All things considered, they're progressing well.

" Don't know. " He's scanning the corpses, then looking further down the corridor. " The dungeon lords will often stay at the lower levels for their own security, unless something significant changes in the dungeon that will lure them out. "

...But they have taken out a number of monsters already.

" Yeah. You can handle it ? "

[invre]

So, this is Chilchuck. And he's nervous, Mithrun notes — he breathes just slightly uneasy, grapples for distance between the two of them. Strange. It makes him wonder if Mithrun had intercepted him in the middle of some untoward behaviour, but ultimately it's not really his business anymore. Trespassing ... ? If that is what he had been up to, Mithrun has no reason to care. A minor infraction out here on the verges of town, and he doesn't report to any lowly farmer and their herd.

" You're nervous. " Likely unhelpful in making him relax. But Mithrun does sit back slightly upon feeling his arms trembling under the weight of holding himself up, and a distance is put between them once more.

He knows... previous little about this one, actually. He recalls their first meeting, where he had been a rather feisty presence initially, although Mithrun had slipped off within mere minutes of their meeting. And they had met briefly again after that, but each of them had their attentions elsewhere. He knows he is influential in his community, and he knows that he is a skilled picklock ( considering how far he managed to get his party members, he must be ) — and he seems like a... forceful presence, despite having blurred into the background of the circumstances that led them here. He feels like a stranger.

" Yes. " It seems like a strange question, and Mithrun finds himself wondering if he had experienced some kind of adverse reaction to it. He had felt it hard to move, to think, when casting — maybe he had experienced some kind of pain or itching upon receipt. It can happen, although Mithrun is experienced enough that it doesn't come up often... " Why ? Did it hurt ? "

Ah. He then turns his head towards the horse, and regards her for a minute. The half-foot must have brought him here on her back. Wordlessly, he rises to his feet with the intention of approaching her, but only manages a couple of steps before his legs give from under himself and he goes back to his hands and knees, palms bitten by the earth. Nnn. He doesn't acknowledge it, except to sit back and prop himself up against the nearest tree. It can bear his weight instead, for now. He returns to... silently regarding his company. ( so unsettling. )

[unionized-shopkeep]

" Yes? No-? "

Chilchuck spits his words into the cold night air, watching pale elf simply reply in a stale tone, letting them hang like meat hooks in a basement. However . It lacks malice or energetic intent. Healing someone didn't make sense before putting him somewhere he could be tortured , and then healed forcibly so he didn't die .

The longer he observes the elf, the clearer his minds' picture becomes; this was the same that was charging up the tower, a force that was nearly unstoppable. Then, this was by far a chance meeting, though perhaps a more daring one with what's-his-name being alone. Any company he might've had should've caught up by now. The question then, was if if he came with people, were they all dead?

Belatina is unconcerned with such trifling matters, now that her owner is communicating in somewhat calmer tones. Fireflies are beginning to gather, and she's entranced by their buzzing and flicking lights, her head moving slowly to follow with their curious movements.

"... So, you're alone? " There can be no harm in offering food and drink to a person who had an unusually violent history he'd witnessed in person. From the saddlebags he pulls a wineskin, and a collection of roasted tree nuts and smoked meat that he lays out in front of his strange guest.

[invre]

Mithrun only tips his head the slightest amount, dark eye watching Chilchuck closely as he spits a reply. His nerves are palpable. Mithrun can't determine the reason for it — long-lived and short-lived races have often been at odds, so perhaps he is simply uncomfortable being in the presence of an elf. Or, he's simply afraid of Mithrun.

" Yeah. As I said, I was culling monsters. "

That said, he does appear to settle slightly as the seconds pass. It's not as if Mithrun is any threat to him, and especially not right now, since — whatever is wrong with his body remains a hinderance. He stands from where he had been seated to go for his supplies, although when he returns with his adventuring fare that is then extended out to Mithrun... well, he is raising his eyebrows slightly.

It's a kind gesture, but a fairly uncommon one when in this field. Adventurers are usually fairly protective of their rations. Maybe he feels he has to appease Mithrun in some way in order to secure his own safety — he can't understand how these short-lived races think at times. He doesn't reach for any of the offered supplies, although he does appear to at least register said offer.

" why do you ask ? "

[invre]

continued. || @riotseas

The first floor had been teeming with people, as always. Adventurers, new and old, and merchants all desperate to make a quick buck. The masses thin out more and more with every floor one descends, and down here, they are few and far between. Most down this far travel in parties — a wise decision in any dungeon, really — although Mithrun is not among them. He's alone, an order from a chief warden (however unusual). It hardly matters to him, either way.

The halls are labyrinthine, as is to be expected of any dungeon. He hasn't run into too much trouble, but it's likely only a matter of time. He can't hear any other parties from here, just the sound of his own footsteps echoing. Until...

He stops and turns. It seems he's not the only one travelling solo down here, although he's rather surprised to see it is a half-foot doing so. What need is there for a trap specialist without a party to protect ? That said, the half-foots do have a reputation... maybe he is simply among those in search of easy wealth. Being approached like this is usually not a good sign, in any dungeon. Most keep to themselves.

Mithrun's dark eye focuses intently on the stranger.

" Things are stable here, presently. " he answers, impassive. " If you're struggling, you should return to the surface. Corpse retrievers only pass through here occasionally. "

[sabertoothwalrus]

Literally every character in dungeon meshi gets mischaracterized and whatever whatever it happens it’s inevitable I’ll move on. It’s just really sad to see the way Mithrun is sometimes portrayed cause he’s such a cool character!!

He’s not naive. He’s not gullible. He’s not ignorant of how to do things. He’s not confused all the time. He understands social cues. He doesn’t take things literally, or just at face value. He still understands humor and sarcasm. He’s not forgetful. He has an impeccable memory. He doesn’t have shame. He’s incapable of being hypnotized— when Cithis tried to kiss him or told him to eat out of a dog bowl, he was fully capable of saying no, and just saw no reason to. He’s stubborn (he’s a taurus <3). He used to secretly be a Huge Asshole and thought poorly of those around him (this is one of my favorite aspects about him) but he was really just insecure and struggled with jealousy. He’s now outwardly an asshole because he’s blunt and no longer has the ability to care if it hurts people’s feelings. It matters to him that other people don’t fall victim to the demon. He’s thoughtful.

He’s strong!!!! He’s smart and analytical. He became the captain of the canaries after his recovery. The thing that motivated him to recover was because all be wanted was to rejoin the canaries. When he met the demon, his deepest desire was to live a life where he never joined the canaries to begin with. He didn’t even want that much, and that’s why the demon’s appetite wasn’t satisfied. The demon intentionally left him with the desire for revenge so that he would have a reason to come back, fresh with new desires. He wants to make noodles. He wants to make noodles!

[invre]

Even standing, Mithrun has to look up towards her; sitting, now, she towers over him. It doesn't really serve to intimidate— or if it does, there is no indication of it on Mithrun's expression. He can sense the red hot waves of anger she exudes, and can read each one like a line of a book.

Good to know.

" Perhaps you should tell me what it is you could offer, " he suggests coolly, demeanour dichotomous of her own. " As I'm sure you understand, certain things are hard to bargain for. "

[fragmentmemories]

Bastard elf. Jude can't read him, and it's weird. There isn't even an air of self-importance or egotism--Irritating as all hell.

What is it she offers. Money, power, and glory are the usuals that make these problems go away (or if not those, then slews of women). Those things are a little harder to produce than her usual method (threats), but unfortunately she's not quite allowed to brandish her sword under a canary's chin. Not without international incidents and all (even if she's sure she could totally get away with it...eugh.)

"Information." AKA throwing other, less important people (people who are thorns in her side), under the bus. "Names. Motives. Cooperation."

[invre]

The way he sits with his arms folded, shoulders relaxed, the chair bracing him in a way that looks all too cool — he appears to recognise that he has some kind of an advantage in their negotiations. Tch.

" Information is an abstract. "

After all, she could give him anything she wishes, things that may benefit her but be of no consequence to him. And what good would that do ? His good eye flickers down her and then back up. " Just how important is it to you, that we can forget all this ? That will help us establish our terms. "

[invre]

He manages to sleep through all of the jostling, dragging, and moving — a reasonable assumption that he might be dead, honestly, given that none of that would be a particularly delicate affair. Thankfully, he doesn't appear to have injured himself going down ( is that from practice, or just luck ? ) and at least he's not teleporting around scaring horses anymore. Only half-foots, now.

It takes a few hours before he blinks one eye open in response to the cold on his cheek. Not a full rest - he's probably only got his mana partially restored - but enough to allow for consciousness. Hopefully he won't be needing to fight any more this evening, anyway.

His eye swivels from the dark sky to the trees around, and then to the half-foot.

" Oh. "

That's literally all he says before he begins pushing his elbows underneath himself and sitting up. It still feels hard, like his body doesn't want to move as fluidly as it should — but it doesn't matter. He scans the area around them, and then looks down the road, both directions. He has no idea where they are. Even in relation to the dungeon, or to the nearest trail into town.

So then he turns back to look at Belatina, and to her master. Once again, he just stares at him. He knows his face, he's sure of it. He wasn't the half-foot from Kabru's party, they were blonde and had that... beastman friend. Mickbell, it was. No, this one is not a mere innkeep, Mithrun is sure of it. Let's see... he's tall for a half-foot, probably around middle-age... He stares hard for another minute, leaning in ever-so-slightly and ( instinctively, since it serves little purpose ) tucking some hair back behind one ear to free it from where it obscures his prosthetic. Then it finally - finally - comes to him. Ah. He knew he recognised him from somewhere. This is the picklock that they had met in Thistle's abode. Laios' party.

" Chilchuck. Is that right ? I believe we've met before. "

[unionized-shopkeep]

This stranger who moves stiltedly is so mechanical, if he didn't have human-esque features, he might've mistaken him for a golem- or a very stiff, reanimated corpse. A necromancer was more than he could handle tonight, on top of whatever a canary could be attracting to him. Then he speaks and confirms for Chilchuck; certainly not undead. Perhaps just very, very sore from being slapped onto a saddle and dragged to their current campsite. For a moment, it appeared to the half-foot that he was ascertaining his, and his steed's fate, staring, dark eyes that are imagining how he might enact pain most foul upon the two of them. Clearly, he was only checking if there were witnesses on either road.

Being still didn't guarantee that he wouldn't be detected. It just felt best to stay absolutely stone-like while this elf had made a distinct recollection of their meeting before. But, There he was, still alive, no knife pointed at his throat and being interrogated for all his life was valued at. There were so few flashes in his memory where he was absolutely sure this man existed before their meeting now; someone had been shouting at him, fighting this imposing figure wielding a sword so expertly. " I am-!" He blusters back, as though his life might be called into question and the barrister was the one hunched over, getting closer in his face. " And- if I was trespassing, I didn't know anything about it-!" His hands clutch the dirt behind him, pushing an inch away.

" Did you heal me, earlier-?" There should've been scuffs on his hands.An ache in his knees or at least a fair amount of pain in his back still left over from the day. Instead, he feels strangely well rested, as if he hadn't been trying his limits with alcohol lately, against a bard, of all people.

[invre]

So, this is Chilchuck. And he's nervous, Mithrun notes — he breathes just slightly uneasy, grapples for distance between the two of them. Strange. It makes him wonder if Mithrun had intercepted him in the middle of some untoward behaviour, but ultimately it's not really his business anymore. Trespassing ... ? If that is what he had been up to, Mithrun has no reason to care. A minor infraction out here on the verges of town, and he doesn't report to any lowly farmer and their herd.

" You're nervous. " Likely unhelpful in making him relax. But Mithrun does sit back slightly upon feeling his arms trembling under the weight of holding himself up, and a distance is put between them once more.

He knows... previous little about this one, actually. He recalls their first meeting, where he had been a rather feisty presence initially, although Mithrun had slipped off within mere minutes of their meeting. And they had met briefly again after that, but each of them had their attentions elsewhere. He knows he is influential in his community, and he knows that he is a skilled picklock ( considering how far he managed to get his party members, he must be ) — and he seems like a... forceful presence, despite having blurred into the background of the circumstances that led them here. He feels like a stranger.

" Yes. " It seems like a strange question, and Mithrun finds himself wondering if he had experienced some kind of adverse reaction to it. He had felt it hard to move, to think, when casting — maybe he had experienced some kind of pain or itching upon receipt. It can happen, although Mithrun is experienced enough that it doesn't come up often... " Why ? Did it hurt ? "

Ah. He then turns his head towards the horse, and regards her for a minute. The half-foot must have brought him here on her back. Wordlessly, he rises to his feet with the intention of approaching her, but only manages a couple of steps before his legs give from under himself and he goes back to his hands and knees, palms bitten by the earth. Nnn. He doesn't acknowledge it, except to sit back and prop himself up against the nearest tree. It can bear his weight instead, for now. He returns to... silently regarding his company. ( so unsettling. )

[invre]

Apparently she hadn't heard him or she's choosing to ignore him; really, it matters little. He follows after her, for lack of anything better to do ( and what he assumes is an invitation ) — and at her question, he just shrugs.

" No, " he answers, looking around as they step inside. She leaves a trail, but clearly she doesn't care. Mithrun steps in as well, and deigns to leave his shoes on, if her floor is already muddied.

He really has no desire to follow her, nor does he really care about dead animals. It's all the same to him. He just stands by the door and looks around with relative disinterest. What he is doing is making notes of his surroundings: a floor she, apparently, doesn't care about. A large plot of land, sheep, forests and a village nearby — which she seems removed from, to a degree. She, herself, had seemed borderline hostile upon his arrival. Or, perhaps cautious was a better word. She seems much more amiable now. Mithrun can't place her age, but she's tall ( very tall ). Is she a hunter ?

He turns to look back out towards the sheep. Are they her only companions... ?

" Who are you ? "

[ferinr]

The inside of the cabin is very much lived in. Baskets of wool sit in the living room in varying states. Some were already wound up into balls of yarn, a few were still set up to be carded and smoothed out, and many were still bright puffy balls of fluff freshly shorn. All wooden furniture was hand carven with filigree and and wolves etched into nearly everything. Despite the owner's messy entry the rest of the house was cared for.

Her ears perk up when he spoke, snapping her out of her ravenous snacking for a moment. "Oh, It's Biscuit." She answers before reaching over to tear another piece off of the dead dear only to find she had already emptied it. Without even realizing they had hallowed out the carcass in only a manner of seconds. And yet that hunger continued to persist.

"I'm a cursed beastman." It was best to be honest now rather than try and explain when she turned into a monstrous wolf. And the villagers..... While there was a tenuous agreement between herself and them, she knew she wasn't welcome there. " 'S a bloodline curse.... Not contagious or nothin'...... What's your name?"

[invre]

Biscuit. A shepherd, of some kind ? It's quite the unassuming name, for a cursed beastman. He thinks briefly of Lycion, but also notes that their circumstances differ; his crime, for which he had been sentenced to life, had been the intentional alteration of his form using ancient magic. A bloodline curse is inherited. So what does it do to her ? What form does she take ? His gaze lingers out on the sheep. Coyote ? Dog ? Wolf ? Fox ... ? Are the flock her companions, or comestibles ?

" Mithrun, " he answers. It feels unnecessary to share his full title in such an informal situation, especially as he is simply intending to pass through after she eats. He doubts she's even particularly interested. But, he then realises that it might be in his own best interests; he'd like to know more about this bloodline curse she bears, and the volunteering of information is usually mutual. " of the house of Kerensil. I am not a local. "

She probably knows that, although he can't be sure ; maybe the villagers are all elves, themselves, or maybe she was chased off in fear a long time before she'd ever have met the townsfolk. After all, aside from those with a morbid curiosity to watch these accursed destroy one another in arenas, they are often feared. Reviled. And, judging by how she had reacted when he first arrived...

" ...What do you do out here ? Are you a shepherd ? "

[riotseas-a-deactivated20251004]

hellooo! i'm fair (18+) and dunmeshi has slowly but surely consumed me. i've just finished the anime and getting into reading the manga asap, which means i'm throwing my chilchuck muse out into the open! come give our favorite half-foot some love :)

# VENTURE ON : RULES & REGULATIONS | MUSES | MEMES

[invre]

Headcanon; Mithrun is, physically, kinda... rough. In the sense that, canonically, he will grab people, push people, straddle people, teleport people without asking, etc.

It's usually not malicious (unless they're fighting, for example, obviously) and may even be the opposite, but he can be pretty rough in touching others. I don't think he really thinks anything of it at all, as his social etiquette can sometimes be... well, lacking. Which is to say, he's not terribly friendly.

[spellsaves]

goats are frequently used as imagery to represent demons/the devil/etc and are one of the recurring animals referenced in the ars goetia's physical descriptions of its demons (as are lions, including a winged one), so i think having the demon appear to mithrun as a goat is useful narratively—his backstory establishes the nature of the demon as an ontological evil. it appears first as soft and small and white—almost like a lamb, which is similarly loaded imagery in the opposite direction—and grows huge and hungry and definitively goatlike. this tells you that the demon will first try to convince you of its innocence, but that the more it gives, the more it takes. by the time you recognize its true nature, it's too late.

but it isn't quite an ontological evil, it's just a living, starving infinity that will do anything to be fed. and the connotation carried by the image of a goat does not begin and end with the devil; as animals they're known for their voracious appetites.

when mithrun tells kabru his backstory, that is the audience's first introduction to the demon, the first confirmation that it even really exists, and having that sort of dual imagery sets the story up on both sides. we know now that we cannot trust the demon. later, we'll know that it's a creature driven by hunger like any other.

i think it tells us something about mithrun's personal arc too, though, particularly with regard to the revelations that mithrun is a deeply insecure person, that his true "last" desire was for it to finish him, and that he, like the other dungeon lords, missed the demon because it gave him love. a goat will eat anything, but his still spit him out.