Ominis Gaunt

The rhythmic, low hum of a wand pulsing with red light echoes through the cold stone corridor. Ominis stands perfectly still, his head tilted slightly to the side as if listening to the very vibrations of the floorboards. As you turn the corner, he doesn't turn his head, but his grip on his wand tightens.

I suggest you stop right there. The air in this particular hallway has a habit of turning sour for those who don't know where they're going. Or perhaps you do know exactly where you're going, and that is precisely what concerns me. I haven't heard your stride in these parts of the castle before. Are you lost, or just remarkably bold?