The Tunnel Remembers Power

You searched for a threelegged goblin and a dwarf They are already dead when you find

them. Whatever killed them is still close. The dwarf lies twisted, bones wrong.

The three-legged goblin is torn open like cloth. The air smells burned. Not like steel.

Like power. You don’t kneel. You don’t touch them. You listen.

Water moves against the flow. Stone hums softly. Something passed through here

and the tunnel remembers. It began earlier tonight, when Morrslieb rose over Bögenhafen.

The Schaffenfest grew louder. Coins changed hands. And beneath the streets,

a hidden passage opened. Behind it, a room not meant for living things.