'If what the Record Keeper said is true, I can't take this lightly,' he resolved, squeezing his grip on the axe.
He took the first stride past the threshold, attempting to quietly pass the curtain of tethered bones, though they jingled clearly. There was no hiding his presence, leaving him feeling watched already as he stepped into the room.
All at once, torches awakened, bringing light into the chamber, unveiling what resembled a decrepit throne room, only laden with the bones of those who have long since passed.
"Good morning to you."
"--"
The greeting came from the man standing atop the cracked steps, sitting on a grimy throne with no respect to its past authority. He possessed a respectable build, rather abundant in muscle but not too much so; shaggy, black hair that looked unwashed and greasy even from a distance.
