And how can I die better
Than facing fearful odds;
For the ashes of my master
At the gateway to the Gods.
- Coffinbox's silent prayer as he dies
SESSION INSPIRATION AWARDS: Herby, Kith
As Coffinbox falls, a sudden pain rips through your minds ... and a velvet voice dripping with dread fills the temple room:
Well now, that's rather disappointing. That mad tortle was a menace, but he was useful in his own way. I won't pretend that I'm not angry over his death, but there are ways around that for beings of my stature. It just needlessly complicates the day, doesn't it?
I have watched you, as you walked my halls under the flag of the elven nation .. Syngorn, yes? I had guessed they'd come poking after they discovered my laboratory. The traps were enough to keep their agents at bay, but you ... you are altogether something different.
You may keep the items that you have taken from the tortle. Consider it his reward for failing me so spectacularly. But now, let's talk about you, yes? What is it that you want? You come to my temple, raid my halls, kill my minions, and for what? What treasure do you seek, 'heroes?'
If I may presume, you are here for the tome? I must warn you, adventurers ... it is a tome of pure, unadulterated power. To possess it is to invite challenge. To risk destruction. To anger the very Gods themselves. I doubt any of you are even strong enough to possess it, but I suppose your masters have ordered its retrieval; such arrogance! If that is what you seek ...
Perhaps we can make a deal, yes? I am not unreasonable. I can do the math; I would likely kill most of you, but the odds against me are not favorable. I wish to continue my work in peace. The tome is something I can part with, for a price of course. I'm sure you understand.
Behind the altar is an orb. Touch it, and you'll be translocated to my lair. Oh, and be a dear will you and grab the tortle's body? I'm not quite done with him yet.
