Leprechauns and ugly immortal clown assholes? Ugh. Sounds like his kind of minions.

"He probably will start to eat us." That's kind of his point. And then there's those voices, like he can never be alone, never escape. He hears them. He knows he does. Quiet wisps, barely understandable, melding around his drumming--he hears them--he's not crazy! "And Deathwing is everywhere, eyes, ears. He hears everything, I'm sure of it." He grins, languid but guarded. "So, there are limits with what one can get away with. 'Faces' have nothing to do with it."