The Bies are fearsome, ogrish offspring of Baphomet, embodiments of the unrelenting savagery and festering corruption that seeps from the Goatmother into the natural world. Hulking and bestial, they bear thick, muscular frames, their flesh sprouting twisted and brutish horns. Their jagged teeth and razored hooves are forever slick with blood, their foul breath reeking of slaughter.
Solitary by nature, Bies are relentless hunters, driven by an uncontrollable fury. They do not stalk or wait; they rampage. When the scent of prey fills their flared nostrils, they descend into a mindless frenzy, tearing through forests, fields, or villages with indiscriminate violence. Tales tell of their insatiable hunger, flesh, bone, even steel and wood are crushed beneath their terrible hooves. Wherever they roam, devastation follows; villages are reduced to splintered wreckage, forests left eerily silent in their wake. Once a Bies marks its quarry, escape is all but impossible, the beast will pursue with reckless abandon, heedless of injury or obstacle.
Colossal in both size and endurance, Bies possess an unnatural resilience. Their thick, leathery hides turn aside blades, and fire struggles to burn their tainted flesh. Even grievous wounds are endured with monstrous tenacity. When a Bies charges, the ground quakes beneath its hooves, its sheer momentum enough to shatter stone and send armored warriors sprawling. Unlike the more cunning demons of Baphomet’s brood, the Bies do not scheme or deceive; they exist only to kill, maim, and destroy, mindless engines of slaughter.
