A pile of bones; a tribute to the fallen who had come after the Book. The skull crested upon it glowed tirelessly, hungrily. Abiding its freedom. The downs were restless today it knew. For more adventures or warriors, or -- ah it did not matter. All would pay tribute among the bones. The dancing skeletons stopped their mindless ritual, the intruders had arrived. The Lich was afraid, the Book had sensed. Much to its delight. Two High Elves and a Troll, an interesting, and ironic group. Clashing of swords and dagger approached, and the Book felt their presence closer and closer. /Ahmras