You have entered the outer, or better to say, upper, parts of the
Forgotten Realm. You see deep-red walls, wide floors and massive pillars.
And again you hear that voice, pestering, but old and tired.

"So you are indeed brave enough, young wanderer?" the voice asks. "I knew,
you wouldn't disappoint me. Just beware of the ghosts, undead, and the
guards. All these creatures will defend me against any danger."

The voice hesitates some seconds. "Yes, defend me. They admire their king.
Unfortunately, they are just puppets without souls. Thus they know nothing
of their king's terrible destiny. They call him 'Undying King', but know
nothing of his mourning---or of the dark treaty that binds him to the lost
deity..."

You hear a sigh and the voice closes: "I just want to stop it. I want to
break the treaty...I don't want...to be undead anymore..."

The last words are just the whispers of the winds, far away. "Help me..."
it whispers a last time through the halls.

