An unopened vessel is no less than a saga of romance scribed on the soul of any adventurer fortuitous enough to encounter it. Yet no thing of value comes without cost—be it currency, circumstance, or commitment to a cause. Even a complicated quest is decided by a simple question:

Is the reward worth the risk?

Though wrought with allure and replete with shrouded potential, one chest in particular shall remain in its undisturbed state long after the departure of a Courser who revels in the drama of a perfect scene.

Set under lock and key by the inadmissible threat of a tragic end, this beautiful box rests with great dignity on its lonely pedestal beneath the ethereal glow of a moon somewhere beyond the veil of this chamber. The heavens lend just enough light to sear the imagery into Lancer's memory, which is all he will take with him when he leaves this solemn place.

Devoid of all life, the bones of other Coursers lie just as they fell, as though they've simply laid down and might return to a lively form at any moment. Unravaged by the little things that thrive amongst decay, the bones are nevertheless so clean they nearly fluoresce in the moonlight. A beautiful  illusion perhaps, or evidence of a doom so quick and potent that no hunger should be great enough to compel trespass into this room.

A beautiful mystery is a wellspring for poetry, and some Coursers prefer to be haunted than to become the haunter themselves.