[Zohariel]

Zohariel frowned from underneath heavy lashes.
"Bite me ya prick," she offered. Arawil breathed in sharply and clenched her fists.
Zohariel smirked, pleased to have enraged her.
Who does she think she is anyhow?
She strolled to the fireside, more at ease now, and plonked herself down next to Min.
"Who're you?" she said, offering a dirty hand. Min screwed up her nose. Zohariel withdrew the hand and looked daggers at Min.
"I'm a Necromancer. I felt a presence of death here, and came to investigate.
At 'Necromancer' one member of the group pricked up her ears. Zohariel could still feel the death hanging in the air.
"Many wicked wicked things will happen tonight. The Necromancer must take care of the living and dead," she quoted. She did not expect the group to recognise the famous poem.