Besides the unsettling feel of red lyrium all around, there is a clear sense of tension in the air. More so when the "spirit" and Michel both take a moment to pause in their talk to glance back at both him and Dorian. The looks have Sam frowning, his feet shifting a bit anxiously, and his hand tightening around his staff a bit more firmly. He suddenly feels like some sort of pawn being studied.

As much as Imshael wanted to be regarded as a spirit - of Choice? - it is still clearly a demon - deals, pretty words, false promises. Same tune as the rest, just a different place. "We shouldn't let it keep talking... it might be stalling for something..." he mutters slightly so that his words are only heard by his companions.