May I say that I approve of a piece that tries to remake the entire puzzle?

More advice. Don't go near the Old One. Do go near the Old One. Don't stay past twelve. Trust the Will. Don't trust the Will. I wish someone would tell me something straightforward for once.

For all my longer works (i.e. the novels) I write chapter outlines so I can have the pleasure of departing from them later on.

So are you saying that somebody went to all the trouble to make you a crypt a thousand years ago on the off chance that you might turn up one day, walk in, and have a convenient heart attack?

Fish and fowl, warm sun and shady trees, the field mice in the wheat, under the cool light of the moon.

Let this be my final lesson. Everyone and everything has a time to die.

Clearly the Old One had the capacity to kill - or easily deliver some sort of final ending that sounded remarkably like death.