Ussal was counting the skulls in the wall-pile when Myrral opened the nondescript door. Inside, candles dimly illuminated a cluttered office. A skeletal songbird rasped a strangled cry from a filthy cage in one corner. Facing away from the door, seated at a wooden writing desk in a tall-backed chair, was the shriveled corpse of a humanoid wearing moldy robes, who was scratching away at a parchment with a feathered quill. A number of severed hands crawled on the desk and floor around him.
He put his pen into an inkwell and slowly turned, his face hidden by a bronze mask sculpted to looked like a frowning visage. Around his neck hung a black skull-shaped amulet. He said, in a raspy voice (and in old Chultan, which Qawasha quickly translated), "Come in and shut the door. Tell me about yourself and the journey that brought you here."
) while he introduces himself.
