Parl: Of Magic, Monsters, and Mystictheia by Robert Caldwell

Parl: Of Magic, Monsters, and Mystictheia by Robert Caldwell

Author:Robert Caldwell [Caldwell, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-21T00:00:00+00:00


An Adventurer’s Fate

The adventurers, their resolve undimmed, delved deeper into the crypt beneath the enigmatic Old Kinthair. With each step, they marveled at the sheer scale of this underground labyrinth. The crypt, disproportionate in size compared to the modest town above, hinted at long-forgotten secrets and a past more grandiose than any local lore had suggested.

Navigating through a network of rooms and chambers, draped in the shadows of history, the party eventually sought respite in a grand chamber. This room, once resplendent, now lay in solemn disrepair, its former glory hinted at by the remnants of what appeared to be a dining hall. A long solitary table stood at its center, a tapestry of dust and cobwebs adorning its surface. Surrounding chairs, most in states of decay, whispered tales of grand feasts and gatherings now lost to time.

The air in the chamber hung heavy with an air of mystery. Was this place merely a crypt? Or perhaps a temple of sorts? The presence of a dining area suggested a different function, or perhaps multiple uses, throughout its existence. The expansive network of tunnels, some collapsed—likely victims of the rampant explosive mining that plagued the area—hinted at a complexity far beyond a simple resting place for the dead.

Resting, albeit uneasily, the adventurers’ thoughts were clouded by the crypt’s eerie silence and the secrets it stubbornly clung to. Their brief pause in this ghostly dining hall served only to steel their nerves for the journey ahead. Empty rooms and collapsed tunnels almost guided them, seeming to pick their direction for them.

The party’s journey through the crypt’s winding corridors brought them to a large steel door, which stood half-ajar. On the floor lay a hefty, simple lock, discarded and open, cloaked in a thick layer of dust that spoke of years of undisturbed silence. The door marked the entrance to a lengthy hallway, snaking further into the mountain’s heart like a forgotten passage to hidden depths.

Toki twirled the ancient lock around her finger, peering into the shadowy abyss beyond the door, yet she remained cautiously at its threshold. The rest of the band converged around her.

Leonard, scanning the myriad passages they’d bypassed en route, mused aloud, “Let’s hope we are going the right way.” His gaze fell upon an old, extinguished torch lying forgotten in the dirt. Swiftly, he claimed it for his pack.

Gerru, tapping the stone wall affectionately, offered his dwarven wisdom. “Most of ‘em were collapsed in, others looked not too safe. Gotta trust the stone, lad. She will lead us sure and true.” His gesture was a familiar nod to an old dwarven saying, one Leonard had come to recognize.

“Trust the stone? I don’t think I underst— Uahh!” Elaine’s words cut off abruptly as she tripped on an unseen object, her momentum carrying her straight into Leonard. His reflexes kicked in, catching her in a protective embrace. She found herself on her knees, her face pressed against his chest.

Elaine’s eyes were shut tight, her body tensed in anticipation of a jarring impact that, to her surprise, never came.



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