Snippet #2356218

For a thousand years, the man who entered had been stone. Stone to the core; his soul as cold as outside brick. But now he was pale flesh again, and the signals whizzing around his brain were powered not by electricity, but by a dark magic. A malicious influence, if you will, that wasn't his own. And as discreetly as a spider navigating a house, the man's mind gave him subtle orders with foreign origin.

Entering Verinotte Hall, now that the sun had at least begun to set, the smartly-dressed man with no hair removed a pair of glasses, cleaned them with his tie, then replaced them to look around for a certain woman...

"Where is the woman known as Daemala?" He asked, his voice making itself known. (repost because for some reason, it didn't appear in the activity tab)