Belial gave the man a sidelong glance. "Can't drink alcohol? Are you under a curse?" His shirt was sticking to his back, so he tugged on it with a wet sucking noise. He could have kept himself dry, but it was easier just to let the rain fall and dry off inside; he was trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

The effort it took to dampen his infernal aura would eventually begin taking its toll. He was already feeling the strain around his temples. It had been too long since he had taken corporeal form.

"If you've a taste for something else, I could conjure it," he said, ducking inside the foyer. "What should I call you?"