05-28-2018, 08:31 PM
The boldness of your voice is easily drowned out by the patter of the pouring rain. Mist stirs along the tall, shadowy corridors of bamboo winding away before you, but you observe nothing more—not even a puff of wind answers your call. The Magnus Metus dwells in a cave, somewhere in the labyrinth you behold, though it is more likely that he will find you, before you find him.
the Rift