"Haunted? Pah! Superstitious nonsense!"
Bartak surveyed the crumbling huts, his expert eye seeking out any telltale signs of treasure.
"And anyway, what if they are? A bunch of dead hermits don't scare me!"
Ah - there, a slight glint...
He strode over to the ruin, stepping through a gap in it's circular wall. Grunting with effort, he heaved aside the fallen stones and grabbed the battered chest with both hands.
"See? Nothing to be afrai- AIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!"
That's enough Pringles-related stuff - the smell of the glue is starting to make me feel funny...