[Suzerain of Sheol]

Shealtiel looks pensive as he says, "Asia, Jon of Patmos called it. And Anatolia, the Greeks. It was Byzantium, to the latter Romans, and Turkey, old and new. The Seven Church Fathers were each visited by revelations, and given gifts by angels." He sits back down on his crate once more, his attention still on the psychic. "Of course, such gifts were never meant for men. Each one is mad in his own way. We'll have to tread carefully if we go there, and that's discounting passing around the Infernal Sea."

He takes a moment to adjust to a more comfortable position, then adds, somewhat abruptly, "Regardless, we have a long night ahead of us -- one which I, for one, would not wish to venture out into. You should all rest; I have little need, and can hold the defense, if it comes to that, better than any of you, at the moment. Before that, though..." he gestures absently toward them all with his cane. "Names. Let's hear them. I am Shealtiel Avshalom, Altiel if you wish. This adroit young man is Michael, named for the Archangel and Dragonslayer, no doubt."