[center][h1]Laid Low: Part I[/h1] [b][i]A [@bobert778] and [@LegionPothIX] collaboration.[/i][/b][/center]
[center][h2]Ancient Site:[/h2] [b][i]Tower of Tombs[/i][/b][/center]
	The Iron Sap Woods are not a loud place, the peace enforced by an army of wooden sentinels. The trees dominate the terrain as it bobs up and down, creating many hills, ridges, and switchbacks that one can easily lose their way navigating. Paths lead directly into ditches, root covered cliffs hide mossy groves, and no matter how piercing the sunlight there is always shadow. The occasional bird call or gust of wind breaks the silence, reminding any travellers that the woods are indeed alive, but soon again all they will hear is their own footfalls and shallow breath. 

	In this silence, one such traveller wanders. Dirty, barefoot, with little more than rags for clothing, his march is deliberate and steady. Absentmindedly he scratches at his beard, salted white but mostly a deep brown, and long enough to reach down over his exposed chest and stomach. Then he adjusts the strap at his shoulder, the large circular shield attached to his proportionally small travel bag having slid down his back from the weight. Despite the ragged appearance of his attire the man himself looked healthy if only a little old. He was well over six feet and had a considerably large frame. His ragged thigh high shorts, and terribly worn leather vest, look as if he had owned them for centuries. His skin though covered in dust and dirt is largely unblemished, and a deeply tanned olive tone that almost blends with the forest around him.

	As he walked onwards, his long legs granted him a quick and efficient stride which failed to break regardless of how uneven the earth beneath him became. Even upon encountering a gorge he was unphased; having stepped directly off it’s edge and tumbling 30 feet straight down. Before he reached the bottom he’s gone: reappearing at the opposite end of the very gap he’d just plunged into, with the slightest of grins now on his otherwise solemn expression. But here he stops mid footfall—motionless—whilst his eyes dart about as if searching for something. Hastily he returned to the gorge he crossed moments ago, to examine the steep cliffs and the parallel earthen maw they leave gouged into the terrain. Compelled by some reason or another, even if purely on a whim, he sets off along the edge of the stone gorge, his stride no less purposeful than before.

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	What was a gorge eventually became a grove, walled on either side by the soft rise of hills, and yet still uncannily straight amidst this maze like forest. Soon the terrain all around began to flatten out and eventually grow quite even, but still the man followed the invisible line that had led him this far. As the light in the sky began to fade twilight engulfed the forest in a blanket of warped shadows. The warmth of the day sun was gone, and all that remained now was a pale orange glow far off in the west.

	The man had halted his march at the edge of a sheltered and bare clearing. Unnatural in its appearance the ground before him was smooth and even, composed of stone and dirt all covered in moss. From the opposite end of the clearing, the soft babbling of a stream moved over the stone peacefully, and what little water moved through it eventually led to the large, gaping pit in the center of the clearing. No longer in a hurry, the man walked towards the dark and curiously located hole, and gingerly bent towards it once close enough to look down.

	With the light of day gone, the shadows within the earth prevented him from seeing much of anything. His eyes continued to stare down into the darkness, gazing at nothing apparent for long enough that night came to snuff out the sun. In the near-complete darkness of the forest he remained motionless--still staring down into the emptiness--until eventually he brought himself to attention with a quick shake of his head. 

	Carelessly he stepped forward, and fell down into the darkness without making so much as a thud as his feet contacted the ground. The short scuffle of the man removing, and going through his bag, could momentarily be heard. Then, silence again, until the sound of metal sliding against metal echoed in the dark. With a loud clang light flared outward, the man now holding an iron sphere in his hand roughly the size of an onion. Cupping it from the plain bottom half, the top half of the sphere was decorated with several swirling and interconnected slits that allowed the light within the sphere to shine through. It’s glow was resemblant of fire, a soft orange light that pulsed and flared within it’s confines to illuminate the cavern around it.

	The light from the orb that was meant to ebb gently out, instead came out in a torrent, and was drawn into ancient runes that lit up all along the cavern’s walls. As it did so the man smacked the orb unhappily, watching as it’s light evened out whilst the walls around him finished drinking in the flare of energy. Even still the runes continued to glow in his presence. They pulsated intently and grew brighter as he drew near: an ancient warning in many a language long lost was scribed all about cavern’s walls. 


	From there he continued to follow that invisible line which had brought him here and, as he did so, he noted that the rough cave walls slowly gave way to rough hewn stone; before transitioning again to quality masonry whose craftsmanship was embellished with great detail. As he walked the variety of languages died out and only a single one lie written and bare. Each word a warning. Each warning a seal. Each seal a spell that magically aged the stone around it. The disparate patches of aged stone reflected the quality of each individual caster, and spell, used to bring down this ancient structure. Eternity versus the ravages of time. 

	 To this day the massive and sprawling complex bent the world’s ley-energy through its corridors, and the man nearly found himself at its center. After wandering for hours more into the night he was now at it’s heart; barred by a great door. The door was made of a rare metal and enchanted with ancient magic, that promised to be impossible to breach, were it not for the fact that it had already been forced ajar by brambles as thick as the man’s torso. 

	The brambles immediately drew his interest, warranting a quick inspection which seemed to bring him relief. It was only after this did he look beyond the door, and moved through it to illuminate whatever it had been protecting.