The Cliff- There is a drop into an abyss that way, the dunes of ash rolling into it. Ash blows into the void like snow, and is gone. If you came from there, you can speak of the sealed gates in the cliff face that you scaled, and the arid ocean bed, miles below, the dry shells the size of houses and just as empty.
The Dunes- Rising piles of ash, a grey desert stretching to blackness. If you came from there, you recall lights, rare and distant, fading as you marched. This place was the light you made it to.
The Ruin- A semicircle of crumbled stone, and an out-of place fallen pillar. Mementos shine in the dark. If you came from here, you crawled out of the pool of tar, your flesh black sludge, your skin a layer of ash, your bones your own.
Random Memento. Something to hold onto and claim its memories for yourself.
- A broken sword, and a memory of betrayal on the field of battle. +/-STR
- An idol of some serene saint, stained and scarred. But despite it all, still here. +/-WIS
- Rope, fraying and knotted. You can't rely on it, only yourself. +/-DEX
- A heavy iron grimoire, locked tight. You threw away the key yourself. +/-INT
- A shard of mirror. You can't bear to see your face like this. +/-CHA
- The stone of a poison peach, or perhaps it is your own withered heart. +/-CON
Floor 1- Entered via a crack, not a door. A low prison that spirals ever lower, with others like you, but mad and empty, now. You weren't special after all.
The staircase was wood, and is half broken and high above your head. How to ascend?
Or, one could descend deeper, past the prisoner cells.
Floor 2- A arrow slit looks out to the tops of trees. The Jailer monopolizes the view. He has a chain of keys and plenty of manacles for all of you. The door up is locked, if you run through the smallcircle of rooms to find it.
Floor 3- A gate house to the bridge, which extends to the darkness, and into it. A barrel of torches in a supply chamber, and flint to light them.
The Bridge- Crumbling at the edges, supported by pillars of crumbling stone. But it has to go somewhere.
Floor 4- Ruined support beams. A little girl, or an old woman, pale and fanged, kicking her heels in dark and empty air. She can make you strong, if you feed her memories and let her chew on your rancid tar flesh. She'd like to leave this world, but is very weak, herself, and doesn't know the way
Basement Floor 1+- Past the cells, the dungeons. They go down forever, the quivering memories of cities that died with their worlds. Maybe one yet remembers a way out.
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