Neverwinter Forest And it comes from the way you speak

Atka turns to him, just as the hellhound remembered him. Except he is a boy no longer, no, he has grown. Just as large as he and Tulok — a deadly, deadly weapon. It almost makes Alduin smile, but only a slight upwards tilt of his lips would reveal itself as bloody eyes gleam in the sickly light of the moon cradling his head. A falsetto halo — Angel of hell perhaps. A demon no doubt. A reaper — most definitely. 

“Perfect timing.” He purrs ominously. “A pack or the forsaken, brother. Teeth for our arsenal. Join me and let the brothers of blood be reunited.”

A pause sound between them then. “And I hope you’re not of sound mind, brother, because no one else is.” He hums with a huff of a humorless laugh.