A hole in a hill framed with ashy grey brambles. Motes of orange-red light on the tips and petals of equally brightly colored thorny flower bushes shine within.
A breeze, gentle and constant, wafts a scent of burnt incense and sandalwood outward, and a low stone well can be seen within.
And there is the core, surrounded by a (very) small pile of glittering faceted rubies, in a niche at the bottom of the well.
He speaks softly. “Victory.”
Pocketing the ruby, he addresses the core with a polite nod. “The dungeon I defend is thataway, through the arch.”
Then limps back to the platform and out the dungeon.
View Flat HTML
View Metadata
Search Post