Gilith laid out the circle before him. It’s lines within clearly indicative of one for summoning a creature from outside the prime. He had summoned the imp before and each time getting the best of the imp in their ongoing game of cat and mouse. “This time” He thought to himself “I will have you.” He patted the Glyph at the base of the circle with his toe. Saying the incantation the Imp appeared. “What do you want this time” the words spit out of his mouth. The Mockmein’s lips curled into a wicked smile accented even more by the darkened skin around his mouth, a mockery of a wide smile. “Tell me secrets…”
The Mockmeins are the most secretive of the elves. Deep in their marshlands or caverns; they are seen as the most calculating and inquisitive of their race. Some would say a quiet madness plagues them. Mockmeins argue that true knowledge breeds fear in those who do not have it. They are given to trickery towards the foolish or blind. Their questioning nature serves to breakdown useless ways of thinking. Mockmeins are cunning and sometimes cruel, and they still manage to find kinship among those who appreciate their insight.
It’s been said that the Mockmein skulk more than they walk; grin when they mean to do harm, and have eyes on the backs of their heads. They claim it’s the aura of fear they tend to project, and not due to any true malice. Though it is true the Mockmein tend to look through those they speak with. Their eyes and mouths are darkened by black or deep brown, and which are marked by weeping lines or spiraling patterns. However, their most pronounced feature is their large darkened grin. It is so pronounced that it is sometimes adorned with jagged lines extending all the way from ear to ear.