[Suzerain of Sheol]

Feeling sufficiently recovered, Shealtiel snatches up his cane and stalks over to the blind man.

"Yes, the likes of you." he snaps. "Do you think you're some sort of an enigma? A mystery vexing us all?" He takes a few steps closer. "There are two kinds of people left in the world," he says. "Those who set aside personal interest for safety in numbers, and the lone wolves who will do anything in order to survive. So, yes, the Saint sacrificed his life to feed, among other things, your sense of self-preservation. The least you could do is honor what he gave up."

Seeing the man's hackles raise, he adds with a sneer, "Oh, don't bother with your pathetic threats. I dwell with the dead already. You won't be seeing me when you get to Hell." It crosses his mind that he could activate his fear aura and cow all of them except the theurge but it isn't worth it. He neglects to share, likewise, that if he was willing to, he could call the Rephaim down upon them, and even wrest it to his will, though the effort would likely kill him eventually. Let them think he's a harmless old man.