Dangers of the dungeon

Silvaris, his form almost spectral, floated above the group, moving effortlessly through the air as he hovered around them. His movements were graceful yet unnerving, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the situation.

With a chuckle that echoed through the chamber, Silvaris addressed the gathered adventurers. 

"Well, well, looks like a bunch of chickens heading toward the slaughterhouse," he said, his tone mocking yet playful.

He continued, his voice taking on a more serious note. "Only a true thief can lay hands on my treasures," he proclaimed. 

"One who knows the art of stealth, cunning, and finesse." Silvaris paused for effect, his eyes scanning the group. 

"But if you're just a brute who depends on cultivation and spells like common fighters, you're not going to last long in here," he warned, his words carrying a hint of threat and challenge.

Silvaris, with an air of superiority, gestured towards his ethereal form.