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

profane oath I could think of.
"Oh by the Lady's sagging teats..." Even Morte bristled at that one, and all
about the undead froze as if awaiting my inevitable doom. Hmm. Perhaps I
should be more careful with my choice of expletives.
Before I could throw, cast, or swing anything, a commanding, hollow voice
cried out to us, "Stop!" With that the ghouls stood quietly, eyeing us like
fresh batches of meat.
Two skeletons strode forward, flanking another tall, royally garbed skeleton
with glowing red eyes and a high helm. In one hand he held a tall metal staff
set with a skull, which clacked against the stone as he walked. His robes
rippled as he made his way towards me.
The creature's voice was dry, and hollow with lack of a tongue or flesh to
speak with. But it was rich with command and as it spoke, the other undead
obeyed. Cautiously, I walked forward to speak to it.
He looked down on me, with what seemed to be pity in those glowing red
eyes. "Thou have come too far, traveler, and trespassed into the Dead
Nations, realm of the Silent King! Wilt thou submit peacefully?"
"Submit to what authority?" I asked carefully.
"'Tis the will of the Silent King that all who pass the gates into our Nation
become prisoners of his lands. Wilt thou submit?"
Looking back to my allies for support, I saw Dak'kon fingering one lip in
thought, and Morte bobbing up and down in a frantic nod. Well, we had no
other choice after all.
"Very well, we will submit."
The skeleton sounded satisfied, "Come, then... we shall show thee to the
Chapel. Know this: thou shalt be free to wander these halls, but not to leave
the catacombs. Thou shalt be a prisoner here until thy death; should thou
later arise as we have, thou shalt be free. Praise the Silent King; his will be
done."
For prisoners, we were treated fairly well. The skeleton guards walked
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