Fowl air rises from a hole in the earth, skirted by crumbling, sunlit ruins. It brings the scent of death, damp, and decay—so out of place in the lush green of the exterior world…
Deep below, sarcophagi sprawl—many of them, cracked open, and looted. A stone statue watches solemnly over the grave of a hero, the surrounding, muddy waters strewn with the bones of lost adventurers.
Skeletons hang limp on breathless air, hung by great, thorny vines from the boughs of a once-great tree, now long dead.
And locked away, deep within its heart, burns a mysterious, purple flame,,,