( His loved ones brings a tiny, barely-visible smirk to his face. It's not with joy, or any real fondness — it's hollow, it's an inside joke only he's in on. He doesn't love them. There is no love for anyone on this sphere except for himself. Their suffering brings him nothing but muted satisfaction.

It disappears only a moment later, and his expression smooths over.

At length, he pushes himself up again to head toward Istredd, to stand directly before him about a foot or so away. )

Well, that's just... that's just a crying shame. It's a good thing you guys got such powerful creatures runnin' around in this joint to deal with it, huh? Angels, I hear. Witchers. Witches. Sorcerers. What about you? Where do you fit in on the list?