You chose to press on into the depths of the burial mound, defying Valgarthr's warning. As you venture further, the whispers around you grow more insistent, their words crawling beneath your skin like a thousand tiny insects. The air becomes heavy with the stench of decay, and shadows dance menacingly in the flickering light. Suddenly, a low rumble shakes the chamber, causing ancient bones to rattle ominously. Before you stands Hlöthver, a specter bound by an unbreakable curse, its hollow eyes fixed upon you with hunger for life essence.