Living for so long can be quite meaningless, with one's wife, children, friends, and enemies all dying before their eyes, making existence somewhat pointless.
Durin walked past the corner, sighing as he looked at the skeletons in the hallway.
Using Mage Hand to pick up a horned skull, Durin asked Big Orange to scan it.
It quickly yielded an answer—this was a Criten.
Considering that the Cretans were often servant races, it was probable they were the servants in this refuge in the past.
"How strange, the humans died at the entrance, but here lie dead Cretans; could it be that the refuge was breached from the inside?" Dr. Indiana followed, curiously eyeing the skull in Durin's hands.
Durin shook his head, "Not sure, but there's definitely a problem. Have you ever encountered any ghost-like monsters?"
