Adventure of Xarsthos 1

Xarsthos slides down the slick tunnel and drops into a vast hollow beneath the Old Oak. He lands hard on damp earth as the world opens around him.

Above and ahead, the roots twist into a colossal rib cage, arching over a black floor veined with pale fungus. Dust drifts through the chamber like ash.

The Rusted Iron Key in his hand pulses hot, then hotter, casting a stuttering amber glow along the root ribs. The light reveals a narrow passage between two tangled pillars.

A low vibration shudders through the chamber. Loose grit skitters across the floor, and the shadows between the roots seem to tighten, as if the old tree is holding its breath.

Xarsthos regains his footing at the edge of the cavern, key burning in his grip, with the dark passage waiting ahead.

Xarsthos rises and moves deeper into the chamber, boots finding purchase where the earth turns slick with fungus sheen.

The root ribs loom overhead, then slide past him as he advances, the key’s amber pulse tracking the dark corridor ahead.

Dust trembles from the ceiling. The chamber answers with a faint, distant thrum, like something vast shifting in its sleep.

He clears the narrow break between the pillars, and the passage opens just enough for him to pass with his sword ready.

Ahead, the darkness parts around a faint seam of amber light, and the air grows colder all at once.

The passage widens abruptly, and Xarsthos steps into a cavern that seems carved for a giant’s breath.

To one side, a weapon rack waits in the amber gloom, its iron prongs crusted with age.

One sword on it burns with a clean holy glow, pale gold against the dirt and stone.

The key in Xarsthos’s hand warms hard, as if pleased by the sight of the relic.

From deeper in the cavern, a distant horn sounds again, low and urgent, and the holy blade gives a faint answering shimmer.

Xarsthos closes his hand around the holy sword. Amber light leaps along the blade, then sinks into his arm like a living oath.

The chamber hushes. Dust drifts around the weapon rack as the glow steadies, brighter at Xarsthos's side than anywhere else in the cave.

A deep tremor rolls through the roots, but the shaking eases instead of worsening. Far overhead, the pressure in the stone seems to loosen.