[Suzerain of Sheol]

The woman looks up into Na'lsa's eyes, unafraid, blinking perhaps once every minute. Clearly seen now, a pewter pendants hangs from her throat, the image of an incredibly-complex symbol that seems at once to invite endless gazing into its labyrinthine depths, and forbid the unwary eye that falls upon it. She speaks.

"There is... something unearthly about you." Her words are rose-petals. "Did He send you? Our great master? We have waited so long for a sign."

She takes a single step back, entirely unperturbed by the demon's proximity, and addresses them all. "I am Mehetabel."

From among the surrounding buildings, other are appearing now, slowly, all of them possessed of the same unfailing air of calm. They are barefoot, wearing homespun robes, and for all their isolation, looking well-fed and healthy. None of them speak, or move beyond a safe distance from the group.