Mortimer scoffs, but it is an amused scoff, as if it rings too true. "Thankfully, my turns have been more fireproof than most."

He takes a long time to consider his answer, his deep and sunken eyes clearly showing his calculated efforts. When he finally does have an answer, he sits up, properly, to look more the authoritative figure. But his bony hands are tightly clutching the armrests, and his face is dangerously grim.

"That, at least, is a simple answer: because it wasn't meant to be pleasant. It was meant to punish." He lets that sink in for a few seconds, before adding, "I assume you now have more questions."