A lonely hatch in the abandoned shop – a magical barrier kept it blocked. But I opened it and we descended into the depths of the cellar.
The ruins of Kyrthar Talketh were inhabited by survivors and mutants, while demons and devils roamed. But the cellar room seemed to have been untouched for centuries. The dusty air hung heavy in the darkness, and yet it was lit by the soft glow of an eternal light that stood in the centre of the room, casting long shadows.
Long shadows on an infinitely sad story.
On the dusty floor lay the withered and mummified remains of a family – a small child, a man and a woman, cuddled close together in a final act of love and despair. It was a peaceful image, and yet it expressed a deep sadness and melancholy.
Next to it was a pack of cards on a table, with three goblets in the middle and a small vial with an unmistakable skull on it. The poor souls had hidden here when the invasion began and had never come out of the cellar. How long had they remained here? Days? Weeks? Months? It was impossible to say.