"Do you need help with that?"

A black furred yordle with golden eyes struggled to look up from the highly stacked boxes, trying to see the owner of the voice. He could only see the top of her head, though.

"Some help would be nice. These boxes are pretty heavy, I've only managed to get one on the truck." He wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.

The little yordle girl laughed."Only one?" She teased, "It's only a short way, you know."

"Is that a short joke?" He cried.

"Maybe," she giggled and walked around the boxes, allowing him to see her more clearly. She had the blue skin typical of female yordles, and her long white hair was put in a braid behind her back. Her yellow T-shirt was a bit too bright in the sunlight. "It's Veigar, right?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you kill us?"

Veigar woke up with a start, and the first thing he noticed was the puddle of drool coming from his mouth. He shut his mouth immediately, and struggled to get up with the necromancy book still in his cloak and his staff in his hand. His eyes adjusted to the dark, and he looked around. It took some time for him to remember what had happened prior. Veigar wasn't sure how long he had slept, but he didn't hear any howling winds anymore, so maybe the storm had settled. Except when he turned to leave, the doors weren't there anymore. Instead he was met with a plain, yellowing wall.

"Wha-" Veigar stumbled back. He was pretty sure there had been doors there before. He tried shooting the walls with some magic, trying to either to blow open a hole or make the doors reappear, but there was no luck. Veigar was really starting to reconsider his decision. Well, no use moping about it now, there's probably another exit in here. Right?

He examined his surroundings. He was in a very small and plain space surrounded with stone walls that looked cracked and worn. There were a set of stairs going both up and down on the left, and there was a long hallway off to the right. None of them looked very appealing. The stairs looked long, and he couldn't see what both of them led to since it was so dark. Plus, he'd had enough of stairs. The hallway didn't look much better; it looked like it would go on forever, but at the moment, it seemed much more appealing.

However, he didn't take more than five steps when his stomach started growling, and he remembered that he still hadn't eaten or drunk anything in hours. Unfortunately, one does not simply find something edible or potable in a millenia year old pyramid. Well, he did bring a few magic seeds with him, but he wasn't sure if they had been blown out of his pocket in the sandstorm. When he reached into his pocket to check, it turns out that only one seed remained there.

Veigar sighed in frustration, the little food that came out of it wouldn't last long. He placed the seed on the ground and whispered an incantation. The seed quickly grew into a vine of grapes. Veigar picked a couple of them and plopped them in his mouth, the sweet juice quenched his thirst and soothed his aching belly for a while. He held onto the rest, planning to save them for later.

He started down the hallway, hoping it was a lot shorter than it seemed. A little while later, Veigar started to hear that familiar whistle again. It seemed to be resonating from the walls. That whistle really annoyed him, yet, at the same time, it provided Veigar some comfort. However, he had never heard that tune since that day, and the one who whistled it was thought to be long gone.

But still, a small glimmer of hope sparked inside of him. Part of him wondered if he was becoming delusional, can an already insane yordle go mad again?

After a few minutes, the whistling grew fainter and fainter, and Veigar suddenly realized that tune had made him become relaxed in this weird place.

"Argh!" Veigar pounded his head, trying to get himself to focus. Now was not the time to be nostalgic about useless memories! He was sure that he had already thrown away his foolish, youthful years. He wasn't that weak little yordle who needed others to rely on. He was the (tiny) master of evil.

As the tune became gradually less audible, Veigar started to make out something ahead of him. He came out of the corridor the same time the whistling faded away completely.

What he saw was a large bedroom. There was huge bed at the corner, pillows propped up and a thick, silk blanket covered the mattress. Beside it was a pile of books. A chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, and below it, was a carpet with an intricate flower pattern. A gold bordered closet was lined against a wall. There were two snug armchairs at each side of an unlit fireplace set at the opposite wall to the bed with a small table next to one of them. Tapestries hung from the walls, each one depicting a certain phase in , one of the tapestries seemed to have been torn off. It was between the picture of a happy toddler playing with his toys and an adult man writing something.

It seemed like a dead end, but maybe there was some kind of secret passageway. Veigar walked towards the corner with the mattress. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him.

"Will you be my friend?"

Veigar whipped around, but he didn't see anything. He started carefully towards the fireplace, glancing around the room warily. This was more creepy than he initially thought. He stuck his head into the fireplace. Why was this thing even here? A fireplace shouldn't be able to exist in a closed off pyramid. He looked at the small table. There was a folded piece of paper placed on top of it. Was that always there? He picked up the piece of paper, unfolded it, and read the note inside.

On the paper, written in scratchy black ink, read:

TAKE A SEAT, PLEASE TALK TO ME.

Suddenly, Veigar felt a hard tugging behind him and he fell backwards onto the chair behind him.

"Hey!" A very annoyed Veigar exclaimed, "Show yourself you filthy coward!"

A ghostly, glowing blue figure appeared in front of Veigar, startling him. His features were blurry, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was a yordle, and a rather short one too. He was dressed like a pharaoh, and rare jewels draped around his wrists and neck. The most notable thing about him, though, was his immense eyes. They were bigger than that of any other yordle he had ever met, and they had a certain sadness to them almost made Veigar feel guilty for yelling. Almost.

He jumped up from his armchair and yelled: "Are you the one behind all of this?! Get me out of here, or I'll destroy you!"

Though, how he was supposed to destroy a ghost, he wasn't sure.

The dead yordle's large eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry…"

Okay, maybe now he was starting to feel a little bad. He grumbled, "Fine, I won't destroy you or whatever, just let me leave."

"But...but…" The ghost stammered, large drops tears started pooling out of his and dissolved into mist, "You just got here…"

If he was acting normally, Veigar would have told him to stop talking shit and get him the fuck out of here, and maybe even blown him up. But he was clearly not acting normally, because he was actually feeling pity for this abnormally sad spirit.

Veigar found himself saying: "...Well, maybe...I can stay for a while…"

He didn't know why he was saying all this weird stuff, it's as if the other yordle was making him feel sadness and pity against his will.

The ghost yordle suddenly jumped up in joy. "Yay! I don't have a lot of friends here, so I hope you can stay here forever and ever!"

Well, that's going to be a problem.