Ogrimar delicately plucks an olive from a dish on the table and pops it into his mouth, closing his eyes and chewing slowly, his lips smacking in pleasure of the small orb as he swallows it, a thin grin crawling across his face before he replies,
"Communing with the dead is not something that comes easily, nor without price. It's a bit easier for me and my kind, of course, as the plane of Death is as close as a step away... what's difficult is sorting everything out so that you know you are speaking to the spirit you intended to."
The Gloom Knight tilts his head to the side, audibly cracking his neck and then snaps his fingers, pulling a cigarette out of seemingly the air itself. He places it in his mouth and takes a long drag before continuing.
"What else is it you need to speak about?"