When he spoke, his voice was like honey poured over broken glass:
"Foolish humans, you have done well. But you are not worthy to stand in the presence of the great lord."
As he stepped out of the sigil, the blood that had been used to draw it suddenly evaporated, leaving behind scorch marks that would never fade.
The air grew even heavier, and in the distance, hounds began to howl as they sensed a wrongness in the world that their simple minds could not comprehend.
"I am but a servant of the great Lord, here to prepare for his return."
Those men in grey robes looked confused as the naked being smiled, watching them.
***
While darkness gathered in Bormur, the Imperial Palace of the Empire stood as a beacon of apparent tranquility amidst a world in chaos.