The priest would be about to answer before he goes stiff and bows, fist to heart, to someone who has apparently walked in behind this figure.
A specter of black chainmail and purple cloth so dark that it is almost black itself stands behind the man. A powerful Morningstar rests at his side, and his face is hooded, but his eyes are a bright, emerald green, that almost shine with Bane's Power and Favor.
"Hail Terror, indeed. The Imperceptor is currently busy, and while I believe the Black Fang is in the Temple, she may be tending to her duties to the Dread Lord at this time. I am The Darklord's Hand, and I am currently leading the clergy here in Krag. What do you need?" His voice is firm, a man who is accustomed to being obeyed.