Elzaon's face is a mask of stone cold determination and logic.

Listen kid. You have no hope of beating us. That's not me trying to break you down, or build myself up. It's the truth. We're adventurers, and good ones at that. I'm a powerful cleric of Nerull, and my friends are powerful wizards, bards, and fighters. Together, we're pretty tough to beat. I'd wager we've killed more creatures than years you've been alive.

Now, you can ignore what I'm saying, or you can listen up. We've killed some of your tribe members, including your chief. He's next to me, the skeleton in case you haven't noticed. But don't worry. While my companions might be a bit more bloodthirsty than I am, we all have the same goal. You aren't our target, at least, I don't think so. You're too old. Our mission is to bring back a pregnant woman of your tribe to our employer. Alive. We'll leave you and your tribe alone, and if you supply us with the diamonds or gold neccessary, I'll even ressurect one or two of the giants we've killed.

So you have a choice to make. Surrender, and allow us to take the woman with us, and we will leave you alone, and won't harm any more of you. As I said, we'll even ressurect a few of those we killed and I'll personally heal any of your wounded. Or, you can keep fighting, and we will kill you, and every one of your tribe that gets in our way. And while the one we seek will return to our employer alive, I can't guarantee she's arive unharmed.

The members of the party may realize that his normal demeanor is gone, having been replaced by his "demon" persona.