— Listen now, O Estimable Vizier, to a tale of a haunted tower. — A haunted tower? Do you speak sooth? Many and more are the tales of ghost-haunted towers, until it seems there must be hardly a tower that has not its spectre. Has the Songbird's well of stories at last gone dry? — Nay, be but patient, one-who-governs-with-wisdom. For the tale of the Old Tower of the Fallen Waste is unlike any you have heard before. — Say on then, O spellbinder. I will withhold judgment until I have heard the tale. — On with the story, Songbird. I get enough honeyed words from the lickspittle dogs at court.