(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

the greatest weapon of a dead Abyssal Lord, and his heirs seek me yet. I am
a dread secret in the heart of the chaotic planes, and I am the guard of this
blade."
"You were a weapon?"
"I was once the most effective weapon in all the Abyss, shaped to my
master's will. I could take the form of any creature's doom. I have slain more
foes of my dead lord than most have moments in their lives. My brother, my
pale shadow, my Xekiel, slays still in the depths of the Abyss."
"Why did you leave?"
"My master sank into the heart of the Abyss while I was out a-slaying. When
I returned from the assassination, he was gone and his heirs came baying to
claim me. None of them could tame me, and so I left. This duty is pleasant.
Those who come - I slay. It is not an onerous task."
"I have come for the blade." I was wrong. An abyssal weapon guarding a
celestial one... irony abounds in the Planes.
His voice was cavernously deep. "This sword powers the Prison of Curst. Its
removal shall free all the prisoners condemned to be forgotten. I am
charged to prevent this from happening. Do you wish the blade?"
"Yes."
"Then these are the rules. You must choose between three options:
Strength, wits, or speed. Should you fail at any of these, I shall destroy you."
"I choose wits."
"Then I shall ask you three riddles. Should you fail, I will destroy you and
fashion pipes from your skull, and play a song of torment on your spirit for
eternity."
"Very well. Ask your riddles."
"We begin with a classic riddle: What walks on four legs at dawn, two legs at
noon, and three at dusk?"
1012