Surely if the monster could still hear Yula down as she moved into the tower, it would have been angry and shown off some other rageful behavior.  As it stands, the Delver gets a sight of the massive tentacled beast writhing beneath the water through the windows.  It would likely be waiting if she returns the same way, the lake not having large enough waterways for it to leave the area.<br/><br/>The magic in the windows holds firm, a faint shimmer as Yula speaks softly near it, her reflection in the water as she comes closer.  But then the looming shape behind it darkens the glass and the mirror becomes blackness.  A tiny puddle of deep purple-tinged red spills from the cup and rests on the cold stone.<br/><br/>The will-o-wisp gives a little shaking moment and then puffs away to wherever will-o-wisps spend time. The violet torch brightens the room just a bit clearer than the blue light had though with it being on a torch she has relatively less control of where the light is.  As the stone lights the stained glass the image seems to shift and change, the skull shifting slowly into an orb swirled with emerald light and her face and form changing.  Her cheeks pull in, her skin pales to grey and her arm becomes skeletal first, then just bone.  Her lips, curved in a look of disappointment at the skull, tighten and seem to turn up into a delighted smile as the orb comes into form.  Her eyes take on a look of dark flame.<br/><br/>Yes, this is Malrefesh, dark sorceress who raised this tower.  She was a woman of incredible hubris and vanity, the kind that led her to build a tower to rival the gods.  So it was that she did the casting work to change herself, extending her body's life and boosting her arcane power for a price.  Divorced nearly entirely from feeling, only strong sensations could be experienced; a gale force wind to feel a breeze, a feast to have a taste, and a need to steal years from the young and beautiful.  So she moved from the top of her tower down towards the bottom, the difficulty of bringing in things for her needs all the way up to the top became quickly too much.  Perhaps she was even thankful when her tower sank.<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://geekfightclub.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/PZOPDFAAWROTDUEME.jpg)</div>Creeping down the stairs, Yula hears two voices speaking in hushed tones lower down.  One is clearly a female voice and the other male, though both have a high class elven lilt to them.  Drow, by their accent, the dark elves of the underdark.  Should she go down the stairs, she will find the two leaning against a raised bar-like table with hand crossbows laid across it.  Each of them is dressed in black leather armor with a curved scimitar at their sides as well.<br/><br/>"I found the entire affair to be rather gauche," the reedy male voice explains to a deep sigh from the woman.  "What? The entire play was overblown."<br/><br/>"It was a satire, Divdor," comes the response, a sultry sound to it even as she puts his art knowledge to question.  "It was meant to be overblown.  Did you not hear the third act?"<br/><br/>So the two carry on discussing with half a pointed ear for intruders who never seem to come.<br/><br/><strong>Yula... What do you do?</strong>