In an unknown place on Amthar, where the trees reached tall and twisted in haunting elegance—both beautiful and grim—the moon cast her glow upon the world, veiled ever so slightly by wandering clouds. The night was quiet, save for the whisper of wind through blackened leaves.
The lands, once scorched and lifeless from the corruption of demon rifts, had begun to breathe anew. Not yet vibrant, but touched by a semblance of life, enough to draw the eye. Amidst the thickets of ancient bark and creeping moss, there lay a hidden entrance—shrouded from mortal sight, yet clear as day to those who bore the arcane gaze. It was the mouth of an underground domain, a passage into shadowed depths.
Through that passage stretched a narrow, winding tunnel, leading to a vast subterranean chamber aglow with unseen light. It shimmered not from torch nor sun, but from some mystic brilliance buried deep within the stone.
