Partax was quiet, eerily so. He had listened to Eiro's explanation, and was dumbstruck; his goals were ridiculously grand, and his motivations so utterly opposite to the scale he was working at. The man in front of him was someone that should be truly vile. A demon that enjoyed the slaughter of people, and that certainly seemed to be the case from all that he had learned about Eiro. But despite that, he held a sort of contrarian purity within his heart that was naught but admirable.
The elderly halfling closed his eyes and thought momentarily, before opening his mouth hesitantly, "I have something to give you."
Slowly, as though he was still hesitating, he pushed his hand into his jacket, and pulled something out of the inside pocket right in front of his heart. The moment Armodeus saw the rusted bronze, the flaking metal just barely revealing the lustering runic patterns hidden underneath, his eyes widened, "You're not..."
