The abandoned town, ruined and smoldering, had seen better days. But as I walked down the oily corridors and halls of what looked to be an expansive labyrinth deep underneath the earth, I began to ask a few questions inside my head as to the true nature of this place.
The walls were oily and dark, made of a stone that was both familiar yet unknown. The architecture of the place spoke of... familiar make, but every dungeon followed the same principles and logic.
My boots stomped over puddles of black goo and murky water, splashing it all over as I walked without much care for the dirt and mud. Yaluk and Frank walked close behind me, followed by the column of sentinels.
Surprisingly, the halls and corridors of the dungeon were big enough to accommodate the size of my sentinels. Frank, being the tallest, sometimes grazed the tip of his helm against the ceiling, but other than that? Everyone fit.
