There is really nothing about the Grand Necropolis that could possibly remind Ness of Candlekeep, save for a sense of reverence for that which the common man may find either banal or bizarre. The environs, the decor, the trappings, all could not be less related to each other.

Still, the skull shrieks, and the librarian's daughter in Ness wakes as might some kind of sleeper agent. She clutches the box to her chest and hisses an affronted "Shh! Inside voices, if you please, this is not a sporting arena!"

In the silence that follows, her appalled breathing is all that's audible. The skeleton shifts behind Stephen, awkwardly, hoping to be dismissed soon, he just works here.

With the weary tone of someone who knows the answer before even asking the question, "Are you going to do that every time I try to hand you off to someone?"

"Absolutely I am," confirms the skull, and Ness closes her eyes and sends a silent prayer to the Binder for strength.

"Okay. Alright. Do you have a name, then? Since we're inseparable friends now."

"Rosamunde," says the skull, and, after an expectant pause from Ness, "I don't remember the rest."

"Well, Rosamunde, it's nice to meet you. I'm Ennaris, and this is Dr. Strange," angling the box first at herself, then Stephen, to give Rosamunde a good look at them both, "and now we have to figure out how we're going to smuggle you out of here."

Because there is no way the Mourn Watch would just let them wander off with a talking skull.