What the Stranger Knows.

[The Hellbug]

Ennius, spurred by the discussion about fire, had been quietly contemplating its nature during the knock at the door, and as soon as it was obvious that someone else was going to get it, he paid it not a whit. It would come to something in time, but that's just it. Back to the fire, he's not even sure 'mindless destructive force' is always a bad; for some things it's the only way, and, after all, it gives way way to rebirth. The mighty oak falls, its shadow fades, new growth springs in its wake, and the cycle continues.

The warlock is still chewing on these thoughts, absentmindedly tapping on the root-bound cover of the peculiar tome that never leaves his side, when the voice from the box breaks his reverie, and he finally joins the others. "Truenames of powerful fiends, devious," Ennius muses, "there are some that say that wielding a fiends true name allows one to master it absolutely. A potentially chilling thought. I'm not certain the power goes that far, but it's common knowledge that fiends and other powerful magical entities guard their own as though that's the case. This Stranger is no ordinary...passenger, you would say?"

"Hopefully there's no need," he answers Fenris and sits down at the table. The warlock places his tome on its spine, and runs a finger across the gathered pages before opening to one, seemingly at random. After scanning it for a moment, he shakes his head disappointedly. "Actually, don't mind me. I have no knowledge of these fiends in particular."