Beyond the shadows of the forgotten hills lies a vault—a cavern engulfed in myths. Whispers linger in the air, tales older than the stones encasing them. > Rumors tell of a mystic knight, keeper of the silenced stories, embedded in the cool stone walls.
You walk into the depths where echoes are more than sounds; they are memories longing to be told. Each footstep awakens the truth held under a layer of ancient dust, stories brewing in hollow chambers. Here, the vault broods like a sentient thing, nurturing secrets sworn to eternity.
The flame flickers, lighting the script on the old stone. It reads, "In opulence they rest, without witness, blind to the stars." Kneeling, you touch the stones feeling energy pulse through you, coursing ancient knowledge back to forgotten sayings.
Somewhere, echoing still in unearthed silence: