Two people I've never seen, but are still somehow familiar.

Your vision clears and you find that you are in a dank and dark room, probably underground from what you can tell by the musty, dank air. Everything is hewn from dark stone and seems to glow with a dim sort of light. Though the main source of light seems to be from the glowing, bubbling pool you just stepped out of behind you. It is that light that illuminates the two figures in front of you.

The one who had spoken was a hooded figure whose face you could not see beneath the voluminous hooded robe it wore. In fact, you could see nothing of the figure beneath the robe as the fabric hung down all around its body. You could not even tell gender from the appearance as the fabric was loose and showed no details beneath its surface. The voice that had issued from it, though, had been touched with something masculine...you think. So you choose to think of it as a he right now. And that "he" is none other than the dark lord's majordomo, Uldar. You don't know how you know that, but you do without having to be told.

That is also how you recognize the figure that stands head and shoulders above Uldar. Towering and intimidating, the figure is clad from head to toe in black armor that is embellished with eldritch carvings and demonic visages etched into its surface. Thrown around the armored figure's shoulder is a cloak, red as blood, that is thrown open and over his shoulder at the moment. You cannot see this armored figure's face as it is clad in a horned helm with a faceplate that covers almost the entirety of his face and is carved into the likeness of a gaping maw. The only thing that reveals there is anything living beneath that armor at all is the eye-slit and, in that thin darkness, two eyes of blood red glow like fiery embers.

He has your eyes., Uldar had said to the dark lord that was this towering figure and it is with those like eyes of glowing blood red you meet your maker's gaze.

You hold each others' gazes for a long moment until a sound issues from deep within the dark lord's armor, echoing within the metal of his armor encasing. It is a laugh, a short quiet sound of mirth. Not something one would expect to issue forth from a creature of evil, but there it was.

"Spirit. This one has spirit. Good. He will need it.", the dark lord says, his voice a deep and rumbling thing that seems to echo out from within his armor and pierce directly into the ears of whoever hears it, "But know your place, my minion...and kneel before your master,"