None of them tarried at the mirror. While the visions were transfixing, the Dread One, the Beast Below, spoke clearly. "If we stay, these truths will never manifest." It ran shivers down the youthful beasts' spines, and the Mistress of Darkness had turned to her mate at the utterance. It was true. If they all remained, captured by imaginary images, none of them could become what they saw in the black mirror's surface. So they moved on, a trundle of power molded into the form of ...

With the help of their numerous pets, the eldritch beasts escaped the assaulting vines. It wasn't without laceration or bruise, their black ichor trailing down their pelts in inky stains. Zoth and Daoloth would lap at their wounds, hiss at the sting of the barbs still caught in their hide during the pauses. They seemed the most affected, and it was the first time in both of their lives that Istasha offered them any comfort. Delicately she'd peel the thorns out, and spit them to the ground, be...

It was most difficult to turn Zoth away from the sarcophagus, but in the end Cthuhlu's demands were followed and the youngest eldritch beast scurried away from the dark liquid found within the coffin. While there was still only one exit from the room, the following passage was... different. Daoloth took note, eyes of deep seas scanning the confines of their tunnel. Roots and vines undulated through cracks in the walls. Bricks had been toppled from their place of rest and discarded onto the fl...

They had been forced to turn back the first time and for it Cthuhlu's wrath raged. It had been discord in the depths. Many of the other eldritch beasts fled the Dread One as his tyrannical anger spewed and exploded. Daoloth took to their newest kin, Zoth, and patrolled the connecting tunnels. Even Istasha had made herself scarce. It was like she'd disappeared entirely or never existed at all. Trepidation hung in the air, and Daoloth was suspicious that his sire may entice battle with the King...

With the sarcophagus behind them, the eldritch trio moved onward through another archway atop the stairs. Cthuhlu remained silent, impervious to the pull of the dark liquid that pooled in the tomb and unwilling to divulge any considerations. This left Daoloth and Istasha as quiet followers equally at a loss for answers as they were previously. However, if the Dread One demanded their presence and assistance it was their duty to answer. So they followed the absinthe-hued beast through the dark...

They marched onwards, their pace determined and unafraid as the dungeon's darkness enveloped around them. Born here, there was no need for lanterns or torchlight. Their eyes had adapted to the darkness, and in the phantasm witnessed the gleam of liquid. Cthuhlu wordlessly followed the gleaming vein that cut through the stone with Daoloth and Istasha in tow. They flanked his hinds, marching not unlike soldiers. At their hooves the dark liquid slithered through passages, leading them down windi...

Cthuhlu stared at Istasha, their chartreuse eyes dancing along her feminine figure. She knew very well what she was doing, the minx. She always knew. Out of everything that ventured into or was born from the dungeon Istasha was the one other living being they could tolerate. Whether it was the alluring shape of her body, her magnetic charm, or the fact he somehow felt the loneliness plagued on lowborn Coursers, Cthuhlu didn't know - and refused to allow the final to be the answer. His tail of...

        Vines weaved and whorled around one another, constricting the passage ahead so that Istasha's shoulders were forced to brush against their gnarled exterior. Their invasive leaves slipped and tickled her sides so often that she'd grown numb to the sensations altogether. A stoic expression painted itself across her speckled face, her grey eyes focused on moving forward rather than allowing the roots and vegetation to claim her. She didn't appreciate these higher levels of the depths...