A dimly lit, ancient stone chamber with a central circular structure, broken furniture, and statues in wall alcoves.

You enter a vast, circular stone chamber—seventy feet across, forty high—its grandeur faded with age. Dim light spills from softly glowing runes at the bases of four massive columns in the corners. The room has two visible exits: the one you came through to the south, and another to the northeast. At the chamber’s center rises a round, ten-foot-high stone wall, pierced by barred openings and topped with finials. A twisted metal gate lies broken at your feet—its twin remains sealed on the far side. Surrounding the central ring are overturned tables and broken chairs—the remnants of a ritual feast. Trays of spoiled delicacies and fine, dust-covered dishes suggest this gathering was once sacred, perhaps celebratory. Three 15-foot alcoves mark the North, East, and West walls. In the North stands a stone angel offering succor; in the East, a veiled woman watches in silence. The West alcove holds shattered remains of a bearded colossus. A fourth alcove behind you mirrors the others. A tiled mosaic floor stretches from the entrance to the ruined gate, with others leading to each alcove. At your feet, a glowing runic plaque bears a poetic inscription. More plaques lie at each alcove—and one waits inside the central ring. See more