[RP] The Forsaken Halls

All characters should be level 2 now.

Just before you, across a stone bridge, towering above the lava river, is a massive stone doorway shaped like a gaping mouth. This ominous archway looms ahead, its wide, jagged opening framed by two massive torchlit "eyes" carved into the rock above it. These glowing eyes, filled with the flickering light of torches, cast a hellish glare across the chamber, their brightness contrasting sharply with the shadows that cling to the jagged walls of the cavern. The light they emit seems almost alive, as if watching the bridges and their dangerous passage with cruel anticipation.

The entire cavern pulses with an unnatural energy, the molten river bubbling below and sending occasional bursts of fiery light toward the ceiling. The oppressive heat, the eerie glow of the lava, and the looming stone mouth create a sense of dread and urgency

With a groaning creak, the massive stone door in the mouth-shaped archway begins to slide open, echoing through the cavern. As it pulls back, a thick, fetid gust of air bursts out, heavy with the sickening stench of decay and rot. It’s as if the doorway itself exhales a long-held, stale breath, tainted by the remnants of whatever grim things lie within.

Leaving the brightly lit lava-filled chamber behind, you step into near darkness, where only the dim, flickering light of scattered torches breaks through the shadows. The torches are placed haphazardly in every direction—some high above you, others to the sides, and even some far below, creating a disorienting and surreal scene. As your eyes adjust to the dimness, a vast, multi-dimensional maze begins to take shape around you.

You find yourself in a labyrinthine network of stairs, ledges, and doorways that defy logic and gravity. The stone staircases spiral and stretch in impossible directions—some ascending sharply into the darkness above, others descending into shadowy depths, while a few even twist sideways or branch out in confusing angles. Each path leads somewhere, but the destination is unclear, the entire structure seeming to fold in on itself like a twisted, endless loop.

The walls and surfaces of the maze are worn and cracked, as if the space has existed for centuries, untouched yet somehow alive with an unnatural energy. Shadows dance across the walls, cast by the sporadic torches, and the air is thick, dense with the silence and weight of countless hidden passageways. The only constant is the low hum of the torch flames, their flickering light creating shifting patterns that only add to the maze’s disorienting nature. It is a place where direction feels meaningless and where every path seems to lead further into a realm of darkness and decay.

The halls and staircases stretch out in an eerie, unsettling silence, the oppressive quiet broken only by a faint, raspy breeze that drifts through the corridors. The breeze, low and constant, carries with it the unmistakable stench of death and decay, filling the air with an acrid scent that clings to every breath. The walls seem to absorb the sound, muffling footsteps as though the very stones themselves wish to keep secrets buried in the dark.

Occasionally, a strange sensation prickles along your skin—a feeling of being watched, though you see no eyes upon you. Shadows cling to the corners of the winding corridors, where the dim torchlight doesn’t reach, and every now and then, it almost feels as if those shadows shift. Yet no matter how closely you look, you find no sign of a watcher, only that unsettling awareness of hidden eyes observing from the darkness.

Are you staying together or splitting up? Oral, are you leaving the group behind to rummage through the next room you come across?

In the flickering torchlight, even the walls seem to breathe, the faint movement of air giving the illusion that the stone shifts around you. The shadows appear to deepen in some places, drawing your gaze as if beckoning you further into the unknown depths. This maze of stairs and hallways feels alive with whispers of the past, secrets of those who met their end in these dark recesses, and perhaps something even more dangerous that watches your every step.

Oral slipped quietly through the dim corridor, his steps light and measured. The soft glow of the torches cast shifting shadows along the walls as he made his way toward a door set slightly apart from the others, its worn surface barely illuminated in the gloom. He glanced back at his companions, catching their watchful eyes for a moment, before stepping forward alone.

As he approached the door, the air grew colder, the faint scent of damp stone and decay pressing against him. The silence felt heavier here, and a subtle prickle crawled up his spine—a sense that he was crossing a threshold, moving into territory where unseen eyes might follow. He hesitated only briefly, his fingers brushing over the old iron handle as he prepared to pull it open, his senses keenly alert to any sign of movement in the shadows.

With a steadying breath, Oral grasped the handle and pushed forward, ready to discover what lay beyond.

If you're moving in stealthily, make a Dex check with advantage. Otherwise, feel free to just walk in. Let me know.

As Oral pushes the heavy door open, the door silently slides through the darkness beyond. The chamber is vast yet cloaked in shadow, its depths illuminated only by the faint light spilling in from the corridor behind him. Stone ledges line the walls, each bearing the withered remains of ancient corpses. Their flesh has long since decayed, but their skin clings tightly to the bone, stretched and shrunken, giving their hollowed faces a ghastly, grimacing expression. Empty eye sockets stare blankly from beneath creased brows, as if locked in a perpetual state of suffering or rage.

The figures appear frozen in time, preserved by some dark magic or ancient curse, their bodies twisted and bound in the brittle remnants of armor and rotting leather. Some lie sprawled upon the ledges, limbs contorted as if they had fallen in battle, while others stand upright in narrow alcoves along the far wall, their rigid forms locked in grim vigil. The stench of decay fills the room, thick and suffocating, mingling with the damp, earthy smell of the stone.

A faint, raspy sound permeates the air, like a slow, ghostly breath escaping from hollow chests. The figures seem to exhale in unison, a lifeless sigh that escapes through withered, cracked lips. This stagnant breeze drifts toward Oral, cold and unsettling, as though the dead are releasing their final breaths, breaths held captive for centuries in their sunken lungs.

Bones and fragments of ancient, brittle cloth litter the floor, and the flickering shadows seem to dance across the twisted faces of the corpses, casting eerie shapes that shift with every subtle movement. The silence is oppressive, amplifying the unsettling aura that clings to every corner of the room. In the dim light, the corpses almost seem to stir, as if they are on the verge of awakening from a centuries-old slumber, watching, waiting in their silent, decayed stillness.