With their scent masked, Keke had trouble finding where these 'Horned Shadow' Tieflings came from. She poked around the revealed pits, and even dug a bit at some of the unusual mounds of sand and dirt, and finally even probed and rocked some of the Megaliths to no avail. While her demonic scent was lessened in her humanoid form, it was still as acute as a bloodhounds. Some demons might find that comparison a bit unflattering, but it didn't matter to Keke. Those mortal hounds were excellent tracker, if they were a bit more hardier she might have raised a pack in Abaddon to hunt down enemies or most likely mutineers. Regardless of how superior her sense of smell was, it was useless in this situation as the Tieflings had masked themselves from her olfactory abilities.

"You would think that if they wanted us to go deeper into their lair, they would leave an obvious trail," grumbled Keke. "First they mask their scent, now they conceal their entrance. I mean, I was practically challenged to come here. What would I do if I can't figure out a way in? Go back to the boat?"

Whelp gave a rare and reluctant smile. She didn't do much of that since the incident with the Aboleth. "I knew your nose was more sensitive than my own, but I didn't know you could track with it. You remind me of…." Whelp did not identify Keke's competition, but she smiled grinned widely.

Keke waited for her to finish but simply shrugged when she kept it to herself. "How am I supposed to challenge Pasurendra if he hides like this it makes no sense."

"Perhaps these Tieflings were supposed to escort us, but a rival faction took them out," suggested Whelp.

Keke rolled her eyes at the rival faction theory again. "Yeah, and maybe those two at the beach were part of that faction as well. We just walked into a coup against an Asura that can summon blades and stop time. Or maybe some great heroes were invading this demon infested island and we just happen to be caught in the middle. Hmm…maybe we should check up on those two and …combine our forces."

Whelp chuckled. "Skipping the part that we just thrashed them, it would work out in our favour if they were amiable to it, but I doubt the fates would be so kind. Most likely they would lash out at us again."

Keke didn't find Whelp's reaction to her sarcasm funny, she hated senseless delays. She was about to begin pushing over Megaliths, or at least attempt to, in frustration when suddenly a half dozen robed men with daggers walked through one of the great standing stones. Keke quickly pushed Whelp back behind a stone before they were noticed and the pair watched the group intently. Normaly she would wade into them, and pummel them into submission, but the stone was masked by magic more powerful than her 'true sight', a powerful feat indeed, so she decided to proceed with caution.

"I thought you said cultist stayed away from that stereotypical look," chuckled Whelp some more. She was clearing enjoying this. "I guess no one told their tailor."

Keke ignored her comment, amusing as it was, and focused on the enemy's scent. Four were tieflings, similar to the slain ones except they lacked whatever they used to mask their scent, the other two however were something else. Something powerful and from the lower planes but not quite Demon or Asura, though very close. While Keke's vision could pierce their veils, their robes however proved to be a mundane way to stymie her observation.

"Butch, Olaf!" one of the robed figures shouted towards the top of the Megaliths. "Wake up!"

When there was no reply, one of them began to scale the rope ladder while the others looked on.

Seeing them distracted, Keke thought this was the perfect opportunity to dispatch them, she turned to signal Whelp but was pleased to see her companion was already tensed for the attack. They made a good team. Wordlessly the pair pounced upon the unprepared cultists.

Whelp's spear struck first, piercing the one on the rope ladder through the back in a very unsportsmanlike manner. Keke slashed one cleanly through the throat with her gladius as she hooked one by the shoulder and yanked him down hard to the ground. She quickly made another stab with her blade at a cultist, but one of them which 'smelled' different, anticipated her attack and leaped back with a cat like burst of speed.

Before Keke could get her bearings on it, the cultist that she missed sprang at her with a pair of short blades, ready to jab her stomach from both sides with them. However quick the cultist was, Keke was quicker, though not by much. She judged his speed and trajectory and simply stepped back, causing the man to flail his blades into the air. As he recovered from his jump, she brought her foot straight up into his jaw, causing an audible and disappointing sickening crunch. Keke frowned at her own strength, she wanted that one as a prisoner. Though the man was probably done for, Keke moved in to finish him with her gladius, but one of the other weird smelling cultists attempted to flank her, driving her back from his fallen comrades.

Keke didn't mind, it was now two on two as she glanced at Whelp fighting the other remaining cultist. Her's wasn't the strange smelling men, so Keke knew that the advantage lay with them. She could keep this one busy by fighting defensively until Whelp dispatched her opponent, then the pair of them could capture this one without killing him.

As Keke engaged the dagger wielding cultist, she was impressed by his supernatural speed and skill. A mortal would most likely be cut to ribbons by now, but Keke managed to keep the man at bay. It wasn't hard despite his speed, since it appeared to Keke that he too was fighting defensively. Perhaps he was waiting for reinforcements?

No sooner had Keke posed that thought, when she felt a shadow behind her. Even with an impossible twist and a last second parry, the new attacker managed to slice her side. It wasn't a deep cut but it was long, and Keke felt her blood flowing out of her. It wasn't as painful as the duelist on the beach, but it hurt Keke's pride in that she didn't detect another attacker.

Or that's what she thought. As she got her bearings and hopped back from her two foes, she saw that it wasn't an attacker, but the man she thought she had snapped his neck earlier with the kick. The man seem none worse for wear save his head was hanging out of his hood at an unnatural angle. Keke's vision quickly saw through his guise and saw a bestial catlike face staring intently at her.

"Rakshasa," she growled her anger rising. Rakshasas were under Vikokima's domain. She remembered Vic and Selexia had left her with the Khanians, and she naturally transferred her hatred to them.

As the Rakshasa cultist advanced cautiously towards her, Keke's rage was unleashed. She charged one, ducking his blades as she slammed her shoulder into his gut, sending the man hurtling towards a megalith as if a bull had crashed into him. The other was stunned with her speed as she turned on him, slashing and ripping him multiple times with her blade and hook.

Though most of her opponent's clothing was shredded by her fury, Keke jumped back once again as she realized her attacks had little effect on her foe. The standing Rakshasa turned on Keke trapping her hook with his blades hilt before jabbing his other dagger into her arm. Keke released the hook in an attempt to dodge the blow, but the moment of hesitation was enough for the dagger to stab through her arm.

Keke angrily kicked the man full force in the stomach, causing him to lose his grip on his dagger as she then staggered back with the weapon still impaled in her arm. She quickly tossed her gladius upwards, yanked the dagger swiftly and painfully out of her arm, before catching the gladius with her now freed hand. She didn't care which hand she used since she was adept with both, or six in her natural form.

As the two Rakshasa picked themselves up off the ground, she frowned to see that they were not hurt at all by her attacks. She knew the Infernal catmen had especially resistant hides, but as a Marilith she paid it no heed. At best it would require another whack or two, since she was strong enough in her natural form to smash through their defences with sheer brute strength but such was not the case for her weak mortal form. She would need a two handed weapon of some sort, not these light fast weapons to have any chance of damaging them.

"Here," said Whelp as she stepped to her side. She did not see her dispatch the other cultist but was glad that she did. The warrior woman passed Keke her spear. She reluctantly took it, her hands burning as she touched its haft, but Keke grinned as she the fear in the Rakshasa's eyes. "Blessed bolts and spears are the only way to strike down Rakshasa."

Keke wasn't sure but nodded as if she already knew this bit of trivia. Wasting no time, she pounced again at the Rakshasa. Her speed and longer reach easily impaled the hoodless one. The strike was clean, as her spear punctured through his robes, chest, heart, and out his back. As the other one realized his dire predicament, it turned and ran but his face met Whelp's shield as she somehow got behind him. Keke wasn't sure if it was magically enhanced speed or some sort of teleporting power her companion had not yet revealed, but it didn't matter as the Rakshasa landed on his butt. Keke was still attempting to shake the hoodless Rakshasa off his spear, but quickly gave up as she stomped her foot onto the other's chest as she carried the weapon and the dead body with her.

The Rakshasa struggled, but Keke simply pressed her foot down onto the creature's chest. She knew it could try to bite or claw at her, but it was simply too paralyzed with fear right now to strike back. As a near immortal, Keke was not afraid to die, she had lived too damn long already, but she knew others were not as brave. While powerful demons could reform back on their home plane when slain on the prime, there was no guarantee. One could be absorbed back into the plane, be reformed as a minor demon, or lose part of one self. One could also face the possibility of not reforming at all, it was a small chance, but death by a holy weapon often increased those odds dramatically. Something that the Rakshasa obviously knew as it laid at Keke's feet sniveling and weeping.

"You are going to talk, and then you are going to take me to your leader," she growled at her broken foe.