3 bar menu

Vol.7, Ch.3, P.4

“Getting rather chill…”

Down, down, down into the deep I delved. My skin crawled. My breaths misted. Light withered with every step. But at last, my feet found solid ground. Between this bottom and upstairs, the difference was quite literally night and day: damp and prickingly cold it was here, and of course, owing to its depth, dark as ink besides. But sparsely stabbing the gloom were lamps that loomed upon walls like will-o’-wisps, tracing the outline of a lonesome, tunnel-like passageway, and altogether revealing the place to be built not of timber as above, but wholly of old weathered stones.

“…”

There at the toes of the stairs I tarried, feeling rather stunned. And despite the nippy air, a nervous sweat had started down my cheeks. Calming myself, I scanned my surroundings.

“Frequented, I