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

"Just let him go."
Lothar's hands tightened on his staff. "The skull is MINE. If you press the
issue, I will take yours as well."
"You can damn well try..."
"Boss, don't push it! Let it go!" Morte yelped.
Lothar nodded, "The skull speaks wisely. Heed it."
I growled, but Morte might've been right. He was shifty, annoying, and was
an impressive liar, but I could feel the power rippling from Lothar in waves.
"Very well, then. How do I find a greater skull?"
"Move aside the divan in the center of the room, and pass through the
portal on the eastern wall in the chambers below to the catacombs. The
portal will remain active for your return. In the catacombs lie many skulls.
One of great value lies within the interred crypts of the Dustmen, beyond
the Drowned Nations. Bring that skull to me - as my wererat minions have
failed to do - and I will see to it that your friend is returned to you. Perhaps I
shall even answer some questions for you."
I shrugged nonchalantly, "I've been to the tomb you speak of. It is empty."
"What is the meaning of this?" Lothar hissed in frustration, and I took no
small measure of delight in savoring his consternation, "The tomb was so
well trapped, so well-defended from scrying magicks, that it was a challenge
even for me! There must be some explanation for this, and," he drew out his
words angrily and slowly, "YOU will provide it to me. Go through the portal
in the chambers below and seek the answer."
I chuckled, "It was my own tomb."
"Your tomb? YOUR tomb?" He eyed me carefully, and for a moment I gulped
thinking I had spoken too much. The man might just have the magic to tear
my skull free and keep it polished and picked clean on his mantle, "We shall
investigate this more carefully. Fetch me another skull, then, as you seem
attached to yours, and we shall see what answers I can provide. Our
agreement shall be as before. Do not try to deceive me with just any bone,
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