Azaroth's reaction was fast. He turned and brought up his sword before the voice finished speaking, and the rest of the team closed up behind him.
When they saw who was speaking, they all took a step back. Tall, with skin like chewed chalk, the man wore only a small cloth around his waist.
His eyes were flat and cold like the bottom of a lake. He was bald, and two horns protruded from his head. He stared at them and continued in that strange voice, like hundreds of insects speaking together at once. "Your reflexes aren't shabby either. For people of your rank."
Azaroth narrowed his red eyes. "Who are you?" What he wanted to ask was what. The man wasn't giving off a monster's aura, but he was exuding a crypt aura, and it was big. As if he was a walking crypt.
Azaroth didn't like it, and he started preparing his skill, but he knew it would be like throwing fire at the sea. But Azaroth was Azaroth, and he would try to light a fire at the bottom of the sea itself should he need to.
