The muted snarl of his armours daemon spirit roused Tymor from the darkness that held him. Instinctively his arm lashed out to seize whoever it was that stood over him. As his conscious mind caught up with what he was seeing, his other hand stilled the raising combat knife that was moving towards the body.<br/><br/>He held the frozen position for a moment before opening his external vox.<strong>"Who ... are ... you?"</strong>