Oh, thank goodness... [The relief in the man's voice is almost as palpable as the dust in this corridor. Closer by, he (now unambiguously a he) sounds roughly middle-aged, and far too feeble to be threatening.

The only strange detail is that as far as spiritual energy is concerned, the hallway is completely deserted besides Namur... but the voice is definitely nearby, and it's difficult to miss the object at his feet that seems to be its source: a full-sized black coffin, sleek and devoid of all markings except a small cross engraved on the front, lying flat on its back in the dust.

From its interior come a couple more wooden thumps, followed by a pained grunt. The lid doesn't even shake.]

No, still no good... [The man raises his voice.] Terribly sorry, old chap, but I'm in rather an uncomfortable situation here - you couldn't...?