Teodora Lacramiora Moscovici

The date, Wineday the 13th of Dusk in the Year of the Imperator 1622.

The journey through the cave system had been so long that time had become to feel like it never ended, never begun. It was endless in the dark. Morning and evening became one. Only the small pocket watch carried by two of the party carried time with them.

After an unknown time, they both read different times.

In the dark they travelled, finding ancient ruins but nothing really spoke 'evil' than the pile of skulls they came upon. The chamber was too big to determine the real size, the shadows filling for distance. The pile itself was.. unsettling to say the least.

As tall as ten men and as deep as three dozen, it made a solid trapezoid of skulls. Nothing held them in place, no glue or binding. They were all stripped clean, perfectly white skulls. Only those on the floor a round were fresh...fresher.

"By Arohazor." The elder Entitled whimpered and crossed his gloved hands over his chest in her symbol.

"Yeah, it is rather.. unsettling." Teodora Lacramiora Moscovici whispered, every word any of them spoke echoed out in the vast chambers. "This is defiantly not Yaralti." She added. "This is.. something worse."

#OpenRP #FeraRP #FantasyRP