The winding climb up the rugged mountain trail had left us panting and sweating, our water supplies dangerously low. As we climbed the last rocky outcrop, the entrance to the old mineshaft loomed like a gaping maw in the craggy face of the mountain.
Gnoll guards, their mottled coats blending into the rocky terrain, paced the entrance, their keen senses alert for any intruders. The surrounding landscape was barren, with only a few scraggly bushes and stunted trees clinging to the rocky ground.
I was struck with horror at the sight of a withered gnoll corpse, emaciated and desiccated in its cage. Its empty eye sockets seemed to bore into my soul, and a shiver ran down my spine. What kind of depraved creatures could do this to their own kind?
Despite our discomfort, we knew we could not turn back now. The lost city of Kyrthar Tahlketh was rumoured to lie deep within this mineshaft, and our quest for treasure and knowledge demanded that we press on. With bated breath we crept forward, our movements as quiet as the flicker of a candle flame.