The inscription crawled across the entrance like a malevolent spider, each archaic symbol a chilling portent. A shiver danced down Lucian's spine, a cold tendril of unease snaking its way through his determination. 

“Well that’s not ominous at all is it.” Kainith commented.

“Do you feel that dread?” Rance noted. “I told you. No one comes to the Jagged Hills. This place doesn’t really look like it’ll contain anything anyways.”

“What about the gem?” Rory mused.

“Rory, we don't get to keep that? I mean unless we want to fight whatever gives Lucian his powers, and I don’t know about you but a Demon lord is not on the top of my list.” Rance chastised.

“Guy’s stop.” Lucian pleaded. “Let’s just get in and get this over with. Rance you can just have my share of the loot here.”

“Fine.” Rance stated

With a deep breath that echoed hollowly in the oppressive silence, Lucian pushed open the heavy, groaning door.

“Light up boys.” Kainith quipped as he pulled out a torch and lit it.

The oppressive darkness that greeted them was a tangible entity, a thick shroud that swallowed the meager light of their torches. The air hung heavy and stagnant, thick with the cloying stench of decay. It was a suffocating weight that settled in their lungs with each labored breath. The silence was broken only by the rhythmic drip-drip of unseen moisture and the faint creak of settling rock.

“Well this is much less foreboding than I had imagined.” Lucian said.

“Look there.” Rory said, pointing forward into the darkness where there was the faintest of purple glow.

“Well, we might as well walk towards it. We have to venture deeper if we have any hope of getting out of here in a reasonable amount of time.” Rance said.

As they ventured deeper, the oppressive darkness yielded to an otherworldly luminescence. The cavern walls pulsed with an unnatural violet glow, revealing a network of writhing, purple tentacles woven into the very rock. They writhed and pulsed with an unsettling life of their own, their sinuous forms resembling a grotesque tapestry of pulsating flesh. From the cavernous ceiling above, a viscous, acidic slime dripped with a rhythmic splatter, sizzling and smoking upon contact with the damp stone floor. The air grew thick and humid, the stench of decay replaced by an acrid, metallic tang that burned at the back of their throats.

“Okay maybe Rance was right. Maybe this isn't such a good idea,” Rory stated wearily.

“Since when are you afraid of anything big man?” Kainith looked up at Rory.

“Rory points at the rock, “I hate snakes. You know that and this tunnel sure feels like we are being surrounded by a bunch of snakes.”

Lucian looked up at Rory. “Look I get it, but just think of the disgusting tentacle-like things as worms instead. You're not afraid of some little worms are you?” he said with a mocking smile.

Rance snickered in the background as Rory lashed back with. “No, I'm not scared of worms. Let's just kill whatever did this to this cave and get back to the tavern so I can have a mead.”

Rance looked at Rory inquisitively. “Wait, did you just say mead? You hate mead and call people who drink mead weak cause they like, and I’m quoting here, ‘That super sweet weak shit’.”

Rory with an embarrassed look on his face now looked at Rance. “Look, that stuff we had at the tavern in fallwind was pretty okay.”

Rance just smiled and slugged Rory on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, big guy.”

Their path was abruptly halted by a wide chasm that yawned before them like a gaping maw. About 100 feet below there was a churning river of the same purple slime the walls pulsed with. It bubbled and frothed, sending off noxious fumes that stung their nostrils and brought tears to their eyes. A lone, broken rope bridge, weathered and frayed by time, stretched precariously across the chasm. It swayed gently in the stagnant air.

“Damnit. What do we do now?” Kainith said exasperated.

Rance glanced around the room. The rope bridge was not going to work to hold their weight but there was a small almost imperceptible ledge on the far western side of the room where the chasm seemed to end.

“Hold on one second,” Rance said.

Rance ran to this ledge and it looked just wide enough for him to climb his way across. He bounded back to the party.

“Okay, I have an idea but it's gonna suck for everyone involved.” he stated bluntly. 

As Rance spoke Rory kicked a gently nudged a rock with his boot into the chasm filled with slime.

“PSHHHH.” the rock steamed and sputtered until it dissolved in the slime.

“Well it better not involve swimming.” Rory mused. “Cause I don’t think we’d make it.”

Rance pointed at the western wall. “Over there is a super narrow ledge. I think I can make it across by rock climbing on it. Kainith maybe you can make it too but only one of us needs to make it over with the ledge because the second part of my idea is to tie a rope to my waist and when I make it to the other side I’ll tire the rope off onto the rope bridge pylon.” Rance now looked at the party with worry. “Okay, now the bad part. You guys will have to use the rope to climb across. You can tie it off on this side and upside down army crawl to the other side.”

This gave Lucian pause. “Okay so crawl across and just don't fall. I don’t even think one of my spells would reach the other side. So, long story short, no big deal.” Lucian laughed nervously.

“Well no time like the present.” Rance said as he was tying a long hempen rope around his waist. “Let’s go. Rory hold on to this end.”

Rance bounded to the west and grasped the ledge with just his finger tips. The party watched tensely, only seeing his fingertips and the top of his head from where they were standing. Many tense moments were followed by a now far away Rance climbing up the other side of the chasm rope still tied to his waist. The party erupted into cheers. As the party cheered, Rance tied the rope to the bridge pylon on the other side and tugged on it to ensure that it was stable. Rory then walked up to the pylon on their side and tied it tightly so it wouldn't slip.

One by one, the party followed, their hearts pounding a frantic rhythm against their ribs. The acidic slime bubbled ominously beneath them. As Lucian, who was first in line,  reached the midpoint of the bridge, a low growl echoed through the cavern, sending shivers down his spine.

“I’m sure that’s nothing.” Kainith quipped nervously.

“How about we get you guys off of that rope before we find out!” Rance shouted.

The party hurried their pace across the rope and one by one they reached the other side.

“Whew, we made it.” Lucian said.

Just then another now closer growl roared throughout the cavern. In the flickering torchlight, the party saw a creature unlike anything they had ever encountered before, a young purple whelpling, its scales shimmering faintly in the darkness. Unlike the goblins, this creature seemed to single out Lucian. Its guttural growls morphed into words that resonated in his mind, a distorted echo that sent chills down his spine. "Turn back, mortal," it rasped, its voice a distorted whisper that seemed to emanate from the very walls themselves. "The Elder One will not suffer your intrusion." Lucian recoiled, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword.