I walk down the passage and see a large crypt room before me with a rusty portcullis that blocks access.
As I approach the antiquated portcullis, its creaky iron groans under my touch, releasing a symphony of rusted screeches that echoes through the vast chamber beyond. The room stretches out before me, measuring ninety feet in length and forty feet in width, its cold stone walls adorned with intricately carved alcoves, each shrouded in shadow, concealing their contents from prying eyes. With a deep breath, I push against the portcullis, feeling the resistance give way beneath my fingers as centuries-old hinges creak and protest.
Stepping cautiously across the threshold, I pause to let my eyes adjust to the gloom, taking in the chilling sight that unfolds before me. The once sacred sanctuary now stands corrupted by time and neglect. Skeletal remains of robed figures slump against the walls, their hollow eye sockets staring blankly at nothingness. Fleshless hands still clutch tattered scrolls or prayer beads, frozen in eternal supplication. The stench of rot fills my nostrils, mingling with the musty odor of old parchment and damp stone.
My gaze lingers on an empty alcove nestled in the eastern wall, its occupant long since vanished. An inexplicable pull draws me closer, urging me to uncover the mystery that lies within. What could have driven those who came before me to abandon this place? And what role does this vacant niche play in the macabre tableau before me? Only time will tell as I delve deeper into the enigma that awaits behind the crumbling walls of this haunting chamber.
Shall I: