"Oh, righ'. Ye wer' askin' about Andras? Oi, Jeeves! Get over 'ere!"The smell of brimstone fills the air for a few seconds.
Suddenly, a ways away from the fire, a well-clothed being appears in a flash of fire and thunder, bony, rotted wings protruding from his back, a horned helmet concealing his face, his imposing frame towering over even Jarvis and bursting with muscle that would make even Keith pause a minute in trying to gain. The moment passes, and he places a hand on his chest, bowing respectfully to the party.
When he finally speaks, he sounds....surprisingly human, with an accent closer to Received Pronunciation for a Revivian, or East Begninese for a Generian.
"Dreadfully sorry for the ruckus, good sirs and madams. I'm afraid that that small unpleasantry is an unfortunate consequence of my appearance. How may I be of assistance?"