The man, who had come to kill me, forced me at dagger point into my treasure room. He glanced about at the chests of gold coins, the small silver statues with gems for eyes, jewelry of all kinds displayed in glass cases. A sealed vase with some glowing, swirling light within caught his eye.
“Is this it?” he demanded, picking it up and holding the vase over his head, “Is this your secret?” The vase hurtled toward the ground, smashing with a flash of light leaving behind a smoke cloud. I said nothing. He glowered at me and looked around the room.