"I had it in my hands, it had called to me again that night driving me to stare into the depths of its odd angles, colours shifting across the cold metal. The Sybilline Idol drew me into it's countenance, whispering secrets from the Ghul'hadi. But it had drawn another that night and I was unaware of its approach even as the smell invaded my nostrils.
"I was too preoccupied to notice until the dagger slipped between my ribs. I turned then, shock at the blade sticking out of my chest. As I sputtered trying to breathe I saw a young man no more than 14 summers old. He wore ragged clothing and smelled aweful. 'The Umberal Sliver returns as shall the Waiting.' he had said in a squeeky voice.
"As I lay there a pool of blood spilling beneath me, he grinned and it was a terrible sight. No man's mouth should be able to open that wide. No teeth be that long and sharp. It was no youth that looked down at me and flicked a pointed tongue across the bloody dagger.
"It fled through my front door, with the Idol in it's hand. Moments later I slipped into Lauto's realm, only to be called back to this maddening place. Let me be." said Rosvodiz as the spirit melted away and only the cold corpse lay upon the stone table.