Echoes of the Endless Hall

"Through corridors dank and narrow, does the whisper travel, does the tale unravel." Across ages inscribed within the marbled stones, the verdant vines shroud tales both revered and abhorred.

Beware the echo of your name; fashioned into stone it is, grim tribute or parable or rueful admission unknown. Stand still, if you dare—to listen is to court fate.

"They came seeking the guide and grew one all too soon," quoth the ancient inscriptions, their truths veiled in darkness yet seeping through the cracks of your ignorance.