Nogandar and the Weaver of Ruin

Nogandar and the Gatekeeper slam through the rift and spill into a new chamber, a vast underhollow lit by cold green fungus and drifting violet sparks. The air tastes of wet stone and old iron.

They crash onto a circular dais of black basalt. The pulsing node skids free, humming like a trapped heart as it rolls toward a ring of carved runes.

Stone pillars rise from a black underground lake below the dais, each wrapped in pale root-webs. The rift behind them narrows to a crack, shedding glowing mist.

Nogandar draws in the foul, damp air and turns his jaws toward the Gatekeeper.

A cone of fire blasts across the basalt, washing the Gatekeeper in searing orange light.

He staggers back, arms up, the edge of his caution breaking at last.

The node skids nearer the rune ring, its hum turning sharp, almost angry.

Nogandar plants his claws against the basalt and snaps the hold spell into the node. Arcane pressure clamps down on its pulse, pinning it in place with a hard, trembling stillness.

The node shudders once, trying to lurch toward the rune ring, then stalls. Its glow tightens to a hot, contained beat.

Orange flame still coils in the air, and the carved runes around the dais answer with a faint, uneasy flicker.

A deep vibration rolls up through the stone, as if something vast below the chamber has noticed the restraint.