[color=powderblue]"There's no getting anyone back,"[/color] the man's voice snapped once again out of the darkness, echoing on the high walls.

The strike and hiss of a match preceded the appearance of a new source of light. An old man shut the glass door of his lantern, shook out the match and shuffled toward the two lost misfits. The lantern-light illuminated his long white hair and bulbous nose; his eyes were squinted in a grumpy glare. There were bright-colored leaves in his knotted hair, and he wore what appeared to be a blue-and-yellow dress patterned with big purple flowers. He skidded along on rope sandals that were frayed and full of holes.

[color=powderblue]"Forty years I've kept that Terror under lock and key -- forty years I haven't had a single dream, and for what!"[/color] He gestured in frustration at the empty air. [color=powderblue]"You three let it loose in seconds! Which one of you was it?"[/color]

He stopped a few feet away and peered at Laphicet and Aro with suspicious beady eyes. [color=powderblue]"One of you dreamed up a griffin and gave the Terror form! Fess up, now!"[/color]