You sneak forward through the ruins, getting as close as you dare to the sorcerer, who seems unaware of your presence as you reach your hand slowly toward the hilt of the sword that lies on the ground. Your fingers close around the weapon, and you snatch it up, ready to strike. The effect is immediate; the gathering mist seems to stutter and shake for a moment before dissipating completely. Zhan-Ukhel's head snaps around. His eyes are amber and seem to burn with a fierce, almost animal intensity. As you bring the weapon down, he utters two words in a guttural, foreign tongue and vanishes. Your sword cuts through nothing but thin air as it slams into the ground. An instant later, you hear a voice from the forest nearby.
"Are you so foolish, spirit," says Zhan-Ukhel, whom you now see leaving the shadow of the nearby trees and walking through the ruins toward you, "that you would distract me, even when so many of your kind have learned of the consequences?"
You stay silent, and the sorcerer's expression changes. "Wait," he says. "You're no spirit. What is your name, boy?"