Any one of the deathknight's threats is enough to chill Braga's blood to ice, fear biting sharper than any natural cold the exalt has ever felt, but it's the threat to Versi that truly pierces his heart. The mere thought of Versi menaced by such a monster... of a deathknight slipping into her tent as she sleeps, when she's at her most vulnerable... Braga shivers, the movement drawing a thin trickle of blood from where Typhon's blade rests against his neck.

"Sesus Denerid Braga," he confesses, "and... and what 'august' personage might I be addressing, Sir Horror? Creation is graced by so many great enemies, I must confess I am not personally acquainted with Your Most Profane Majesty."

Even in the face of terror, deference to the sworn champions of Oblivion doesn't come particularly naturally to Braga.