Flavius
The gnome sits in collapsible chair with an air of dignity, his chin high and his back straight, one short leg folded over the other. The barest hint of a grin pervades his facial expression, and his short, well-kept hair is held in place by a simple gold circlet in patterns of ivy. His robes are road-worn, a pale, icy blue that matches his gloves, which seem to emit the barest aura of cold. His blue boots have a spiderweb motif, and a staff topped with a translucent blue crystal is slung through a holster across his back.

Ho-hum. That sounds like quite a fix, sir. I agree, troops would be nice, but they're people too. Demon magic has a tendency to tear through troops like paper before we mages can put it in its place. Better, I think, that we're alone. Do you have the body of the fellow who committed suicide? I know some divinations that would perhaps allow me to see these creatures as he saw them, though I admit I haven't tried them on the dead, he says when the Major has finished the overview of the scene.