They were gathered in a circle. In the center, illuminated by flaming torches, lay a symbol so ancient that no human being could have guessed its origin.

The master of ceremonies stepped forward, his voice solemn as he chanted an incantation. From the symbol emerged a red smoke, intensifying the already sinister atmosphere. Despite the long cloaks that draped them, shrouding them up to their heads, a palpable tension emanated from the assembled group.

With a fragile movement, the master removed his hood, an unsettling slowness to the gesture.

And then, they beheld his face.

It was speckled with scales.