"So... no hideous hordes of corpses came rising out of the catacombs?" asked Nisrioch, glancing around the halls of Castle Terribel.
Anthea Cthonique regarded her father cheerfully. "None whatsoever." She blinked. "Castle Terribel has catacombs?"
Her father's eyes literally lit up. "Oh, yes! Extensive ones!" he declared. "Why, Cthonique construction upwards has been matched by construction downwards! And we have built a great deal upwards."
"I see," noted Anthea, with a nod. "And undead hordes are a problem?"
Nisrioch gave his hand a wave. "Well, Morgaine hasn't been back in a while, and I worry that some half-forgotten project of hers might be getting... restive..."
"Oh dear," said Anthea. "That does sound worrisome."
"Yes, but as you said, none whatsoever appeared," declared Nisrioch grandly. "So that trouble has been dodged." He whirled around suddenly. "For now."
Anthea nodded. "Yes, yes, yes." She joined her father in looking around furtively. "So... what are these half-forgotten projects, if I may ask?"
"I wouldn't know," said Nisrioch. "She doesn't tell me about them, after all. If she did, I'd make certain they wouldn't be half-forgotten."
Anthea blinked. "So... they may or may not exist?"
"Indeed," said Nisrioch. "But... it is your aunt Morgaine."
"Very true," said Anthea. "Mother has always told me that while she is not as mad as you, she is generally drunker, which makes up for it."
"Alse thinks I'm mad?" said Nisrioch.
"Does this surprise you?" asked his daughter.
Nisrioch considered things. "Not really." He sighed. "Still... we are agreed--no rotting undead hordes." He glanced around. "And... no flying green elephants?" Anthea stared at him for a moment. "Realize, they wouldn't be actual flying green elephants. Just something that looks like a flying green elephant."