"You must place great value on my life," you say. "Why?"
"We would have come to the aid of any of the steppe chieftains," rumbles Svarog, "but they have all fallen to Zhan-Ukhel, or are now in a position where it is too late to save them. For good or ill, our fates are joined together."
"I see," you say, turning to the creature in the black cloak. "We have Svarog and Ziva…so you must be Veles, the Trickster. Am I right?"
The dark eye holes of the Trickster's mask flash green for a second, as if in confirmation. "So you know about us, Basileios, but do you know yourself? What is it that you desire? What will your destiny be?"