I am here on behalf of the people of the west. I speak for the Burrows.”
“Ohh,” the Demon said, mockery dripping from the word. It made an exaggerated bow, its movements smooth as flowing magma. “An emissary! How quaint. I would expect introductions are in order, then. I am called Briz’nar, Greater Demon, Hand to the Duke of Milonok, and Commander of the Guard.”
“That’s delightful,” Racath scowled. “You can call me Azrael.

Author: S.G. Night