The ancient fortress loomed before Elara and her companions, a dark and imposing structure that seemed to swallow the light around it. Its crumbling walls and shattered towers spoke of a time long past, when it might have been a grand stronghold. Now, it was a place of malevolent power, hidden deep within the Shadowlands and guarded by dark forces.
As they entered through the archway, the atmosphere inside the fortress was thick with an oppressive, almost tangible darkness. The air was cold and stale, and the only sound was the distant drip of water echoing through the vast, empty halls. The walls were lined with faded tapestries and cracked stone, their surfaces covered in layers of dust and neglect.
"We need to be cautious," Elara whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness. "The cultists may be waiting for us."
