"...A historical site." Magtok stops, considering his options. This is about the right time for dramatic reveal, isn't it? Before she starts putting more gross magic light nonsense in our home, preferably. This is a place of science, after all. Man's triumph over machine, without any lousy magical crutches (except Needs sometimes) to keep up with the rest of the world and its lazy, degenerate spellcasters.

"I check out of this Hotel California world for three years, and my house is an ancient cathedral. I know time moves fast around here, but..." Magtok grumbles, pulling off his helmet and setting it on the ground, so he can stand tall and survey the area with one foot atop his helm, and also dramatically reveal himself to be the Lord Magtok himself. "A forgotten tomb, a spooky dungeon, a place for adventures to die." He glares at a particularly offensive wall and shakes his head. Whatever, enough griping, we've got work to be done. Magtok unslings his rifle, pulls his helmet back over his head, and turns his gaze towards the wannabe Dr. Jones.

"You're hired. Or rather, you would be, if I had any money. Hrm. Okay, better idea, I let you continue doing what you're doing, because it's moderately convenient for me, and I kick you out the door the second it's not. Deal?" Well aren't we a silver-tongued master negotiator today? Magtok doesn't wait for an answer, however, already moving forward, to inspect the foyer and see how much progress, if any, she's made into the adjoining rooms and hallways. I know there's at least one bedroom nearby, because we always needed one clone by the entrance at all time. Additionally, she probably hasn't gotten the lights working yet, given that this place is lit entirely by magic and whatever sunlight can stream in from above, so we should probably work on getting one of the generators operational. Maybe we can get to that before the sun goes down and this whole place becomes a hundred times spookier? Something to consider, maybe.