The little grey-green humanoid survive the crash without much fanfare. No airbags or smoke. Just a single impact into the hardpan. It shoot it’s large head twice, ran a diagnostic and exited the ship.

Outside there was a field with a pair of small fires now eating through it. On the far side was a large ranch house, and from it came a rabble of farmhands shouting of dragons and beasts, clutching farm tools as if they were slayers.

The little grey made no expression but watched them approach. When they were close enough to begin hurling sharp things his way, he retrieved the large emitter from the wreckage and fired a single bolt of depleted uranium into the crowd. The moment the first man’s skin began to melt and boil, the crowd dispersed.

He sighed, a slight and airy sound. Never a good sign when you have to use violence that early. He shook off the feeling and went about fixing the craft.

The bucolic town around the crash sight took up arms quickly, arming guardsman and citizenry alike with pikes and sword. They marched toward the sight only to find a small impact crater.

They had a priest bless the area to dispel the demon.

The grey watched from orbit and laughed to himself.