A wail of haunting souls echos through the hall.
'Eeep!'
You say, "Eeep!"

Slum Lord Walcar comes out of hiding.
pon
You ponder.
look walcar

You see Slum Lord Walcar Walcars, Leader of The Locksmith Union, a Human.

He's wearing a skull mask that transforms his face into a grim visage, teeth drawn back into a hideous grin.

He has fair skin and empty sockets for eyes.
He is venerable.
He has a tattoo of an iron rose with razor-toothed leaves on his back.

He is holding a frayed hangman's noose.
He is wearing a slate grey helm, an inquisitor's cassock marred by great sunbursts of soot on the red silk, an enameled tower shield painted with the Therengian royal crest, an oilcloth rucksack, some slate grey gauntlets, a polished leather belt with a bejeweled silver scepter hanging from it, a pair of heretic's boots with blackened steel-capped toes.

gasp
You gasp!

(Walcar glances at you then his noose)
'Oh oh'
You say, "Oh oh."

Walcar asks, "Where is Darius?"

faint
You faint!

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