After the Other’s golem brought handkerchiefs to the group, it took up position next to the Other while he was explaining his magic and soul stones.

“As I’ve explained to this country in the past, any soul stones in my possession that have nowhere to go and aren’t slated for destruction I will keep safe as a payment of sorts without using them for dark magic. Strangely enough, they stopped bothering me about what I do with them after a few decades of oversight by their supposedly-invisible minions. Isn’t that right Graham?”

The hero’s party perks up at this unexpected name. At the same time, the golem next to the Other speaks up.

“Not so much, as when you didn’t seem to do anything with mine and they could still talk to me after paying an outrageous sum, they probably figured it was a money-making scheme of yours that they found convenient.”

At this, the final companion speaks up, “Wait a second, are you that Graham? The Graham that was the one to take on five undead dragons at the same time and came out alive?”

A light chuckle somehow resonates from the golem, “Well, I don’t know if you would call this alive, but yes, that was my last battle. I don’t know how many necromancers tried to trap my soul for whatever nonsense reasons they had, but yes, that was after they were frustrated and then somehow found out I was wearing a soul stone.”

Marvin speaks up at this looking back and forth between the golem and the Other. “But, you’re a golem now? Aren’t golems supposed to be mindless puppets?”

“Marvin must not have seen earlier,” says the small voice, “when one of the golems hit Doc with a tray. Hard. We were confused, but now it’s starting to make sense.”

“Well,” says the Other, “golems are mindless puppets run by someone with a set of predetermined actions or someone with a mind. Or, in our case, a soul in a stone connected to a magic circle that allows them to control a golem within a certain range. Though, I would appreciated it if this stayed amongst us, as I’m sure at least one or two of you have thought of the society crashing implications. And I’d rather not have another discussion with the Church of Death about human rights.”

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“Ah,” says Graham, “I remember that. It was right after I arrived and the King and their Pope were here to discuss with my crystal about me being in the crystal. They never did answer that question I had though…”

“You’re here now though old friend, and know me well enough to know when to assault me with a serving tray. So don’t think too hard on it, it was your decision and you can do whatever you want.”

A brief moment passes before Ernest asks the natural question, “So, will Margarette become a golem then or what? Can we talk to her then?”

“Once her soul ‘wakes up,’” the Other says, pointing at the sleeping projection, “per the Order of Death in this circumstance, I ask her the question, ‘In light of the death of your body, would you like your soul to remain in this crystal, or would you like it to be released from this mortal confinement.’ That same order states I am the only person present on questioning and that I’m allowed to state the question and that I am only allowed to repeat the question.”

“But there’s options! Options the normal person wouldn’t know about!” yells Marvin.

“You are correct,” says Graham, “a normal person would not know that. And the only person allowed present upon questioning the soul is him. It’s really a shame you know, that the Church of Death actually trusts this person enough to follow through with a question in a neutral tone, and definitely not the person who would bring the soul crystal to influence them. If you understand that people are quite concerned about this issue and the implications of what I am saying, you would do well not to speak of this again.”

“So,” says the Other, “as far as speaking with her should she remain in her mortal confinement as it were, part of the conditions I made them agreed to is that if anyone wants to speak to any of the soul crystals it will cost 1% of the country’s budget per visit. Or something of equivalent value, but it isn’t that often you find an elder dragon’s worth of scales, right?”

The hero’s party looks at each other with dead fish eyes. Marvin takes a pouch off of his belt and throws it to the Other. “Keep the change,” he says.

“Much obliged, though still a bit premature. I’m sure you’ll come up with something convincing to tell your, how shall we say, sponsor?” the Other says. After a moment of silence he claps his hand once, loudly, shaking the party out of their fugue. “Alright, since it’s been a long journey, let’s move some things and get you some sleep.”

The Other stands and moves back to the altar and murmurs an incantation to bring up a magic circle that he interacts with. The incantation is entirely unnecessary. After a few moments the altar appears to be moving towards the ceiling. Or rather, the floor is smoothly lowering into the ground. After dropping about the height of 5 Marvins, the motion stops and a series of doorways appear.

“Graham and I will be leaving you here, but not alone. The golem that came from the first bedroom, there, has been here quite a while, so if you have any questions, you can call her Belladon-aah!” says the other, dodging what looks like a dirty sock-rag.

“Fleur! It’s Fleur you buffoon! Don’t go picking out random poisonous flowers every time!” says the apparently angry golem with a good throwing arm. “Kuh-humm. My apologies for my lack of tack, after spending so long working with him it’s honestly rare we’re given free rein with visitors. And now that he’s managed to escape, let me introduce myself properly. I am known as Fleur, daughter of the duke and duchess of Argyle, first wife of Emperor Gregory Cheviot.”