The tension in the ancient chamber hung thick with the weight of centuries, heavy with the scent of damp stone and something far more metallic...like old blood seeped into the cracks of the world. The runes carved into the circular barrier pulsed with a slow, rhythmic glow, their crimson light painting jagged shadows across the worn stone floor. Each flicker made the carvings seem to twitch, as if the symbols themselves were alive and writhing under their gaze.
The knight shifted his weight, the plates of his armor grinding together with a sound like bones rubbing. His gauntleted fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword, the leather creaking. "I don't like this," he muttered, his voice low enough that the words barely carried.
