The choking smoke and flickering firelight cast jagged shadows as the expedition withdraws deeper into the vault’s humid depths. The air grows heavy with the scent of oil and rust as you press forward down the east passage, passing a stair that cuts straight up and to the north. A pair of wide double doors loom at the top, etched with intricate gears—silent, waiting.
Trix cautiously edges around the bend, peering into the dim corridor ahead. A long, narrow hall stretches into the gloom, ending in a stair that ascends beyond sight, swallowed by the ceiling. A second set of heavy doors splinters the passage to the east, their iron-bound frames sealed tight.
At the far end, a hulking guardian construct moves with mechanical precision, its heavy footsteps echoing in the stillness. A crimson eye glows like a burning ember, sweeping the corridor in a slow, methodical scan. In the center of its chest lies a silver command card, etched with crossed swords.