The cloaked figure radiated shear power. Tyrrazapon was immediately drawn, and almost involuntarily moved across the great floor and closed the gab. He could not be sure, but he felt an enormous urge to kneal, and when he caught the glance of Raezyr, he knew this is what he should do.
I'm not sure what sort of voodoo is going on in here, but I know when to find my place, and how to pay respect. With that thought, Tyrrazapon knelt low, and his hair fell down around his face, and his knees touched the floor. He pressed his knuckles onto the floor and became still, the outlines of his upper arms became clear.
"I am he. Lord? Not quite. Just a drifter...sir," Tyrrazapon replied.
Sir? Do you call these guys 'sir'? I feel like an idiot.
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