The figure you glimpse standing before you is hard to see, given the shadows that surround him from head to toe. The shadows seem to grow darker, and the light around you dims a moment, as a battle on a small scale is waged. An arm hangs free of shadow. You can tell by the pale skin and black fingernails, that this figure is in poor health. A nimbus of power is barely visible along the outlines of the shadows, giving the impression of benevolence. Cold, red eyes stare at you from the depths of the cowl of shadows. They narrow as they consider your body, your mind, your very soul.