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Through the Dark Door - Part 1


An old belt of gold and garnets - Royal perhaps? Tales of Baldor come to mind.


We passed through Harrowdale yesterday morning, my faithful steed and I. A pleasant enough place regardless of its name. Steel grew increasingly nervous as we entered the Dimholt however. Strange, for he has been with me to far more eerie places and never once been affected. Still, I thought it best to lead him back to the sunnier areas and let him wander his own way. He won't go far; he never does. He'll await my return as steadfastly as always. I wonder if he will linger there alone should I fall here, or will he find his way to a new, more reliable, rider? I would hate for him to suffer.

I think it was early afternoon by the time I arrived alone at the Dark Door. The light is so expertly consumed by the thick foliage in this area that I honestly could not tell. It feels a little oppressive, I suppose. It certainly looks the part. But all thoughts of grumpy trees instantly left my mind when I saw the Dark Door itself. Oh, but it was breathtaking! Huge and stone, carved with leering skulls, it was obviously designed to scare people away.

Which means there's something worth scaring them away from.

Naturally, this just piques my interest all the more. It took me a little while to find my way in, but once I did... I was a little disappointed. It was dark, dry and oh so very bare. For miles, the path just wound on with no clear turning points and nothing so much as to stumble upon. Well, apart from the bones. There was a nice intact set just beyond the door, nicely preserved along with its armour. There were some nice shiny gold adornments as well which, naturally, I picked up along the way. Still, it was odd; to be in a place as dreaded as the Paths of the Dead and be faced with a dead thing that was only dead? I had been expecting something more... 

My disappointment lasted only a little longer for suddenly the tunnel opened out into a vast cavern within which was nestled a huge city hewn from the rock. If sun had touched it, I imagine it would have shone. Instead, it sort of glowed of its own accord. A little creepy perhaps, but strange things are to be expected in such places.

As I trotted down the path to the city, I saw my first ghost of the day. It seemed... distracted. I sneaked by with little trouble and went on my merry way. I saw a few more as I continued along, but only a few. Were the tales so exaggerated? Was my journey here a waste? Had I left Yarassi dead and buried in Eregion for nothing?

No, no surely not. There had to be something here, or else why build....