Uden the Sinner sighed, the sound like the last breath of a dying man issuing from his golden helm. Behind their angled slits his eyes glowed an eldritch green.
"No, mortal," he said to the cowering girl. "That is very wrong." Holding up his Icon of Chaos, its metallic sheen reflected in the girl's terrified eyes, Uden moved closer to her cringing form.
"I distinctly remember asking for nonfat milk in my latte, and this appears to be full cream."