In a cavernous expanse, carved from the heart of a bleak and ancient mountain. The oppressive weight of the cold stone walls closed in around the space, creating a sense of confinement. High above, the ceiling disappeared into darkness, from which only the faintest glimmer of stalactites could be discerned, adding to the room's cavernous atmosphere.
At the chamber's center, on a raised dais of blackened rock, stood a throne—an imposing seat of power encrusted with sharp, malevolent spikes and intricate, eldritch designs. Twisting thorny vines wound around the throne, their barbs gleaming wickedly in the low light. These vines spread outwards, creeping across the floor and up the surrounding pillars, creating a kind of living network of thorns that seemed to pulse with a dark life of its own.
