"This is no ogre mage," Kalalin pushed a few words through clenched teeth, "this is an evil spirit."
Lancelot watched the ghastly figure with a green complexion and fearsome fangs, towering over ten feet tall. Greyish-white hair hung from beneath the shadow of the entity's hood, and from a pair of lantern-like eyes shone bright yellow light. It revealed a terrifying smile at him, displaying rows of sharp teeth.
"What's special about it?" Lancelot's lips barely moved, his voice resonating directly in Kalalin's ear.
"Don't let it cast any spells."
"You must have many questions," the ghost cackled sinisterly, "feel free to ask. I don't mind enlightening you…"
His words cut abruptly short because Lancelot had charged at him like a wraith, trailing dense afterimages. He swung Frostslash high above his head.
