[Power. Naturally. Always of the formless, speculative kind, the conduits of which are beyond his mortal understanding. He can observe it, be affected by it, but stands ever on the border of knowing it.

Richie bares teeth in a humble grimace, shaking his head.]

Looks like a curse to me. There were always those old stories about King Tut's tomb and the like. Disturbing the dead always comes with a high priced ticket and nasty clauses obscured in the fine print. Maybe once they put it back where it belongs things might simmer down.

[He shrugs.]

Then again, isn't just the natural way to itch for war? People always find a way to put their panties in a new twist.