Yuzu stood before the entrance of the dungeon. The creeping vines over the top told a story of ancient history, one she didn't know yet. She could stand there for hours contemplating how the vines grew; the places they clung to and the grooves they made their home in. That was just as much a story as the dead ends that hung limp from adventurers past cutting their way through.

This entrance was the lesser used one. It was why she picked it. The fewer horses that tread through the area the less disturbed it would be. She could get a feel for the energy in the place. She could let the stones speak to her in the way that so few things did top side.

She walked forward, pausing just under the entryway to press her muzzle against the lichen rich stone that made the side. It was cold and damp and smelled like earth after a storm. It tingled in her lungs like lightning did.

There was magic here, of that she had no doubt. Magic that hadn't been touched in some time if the way her cost twitched was anything to go by. She huffed softly, stirring the leaves of ivy with her breath, and closed her eyes for just a moment. It was important to thank the beings that held more power than her for continuing to keep the dungeon open.

With her prayer said, she stepped all the way through the door. The blazing sunlight outside died instantly, leaving her chilled as the cool stone seeped the warmth out of the area. She had to blink a few times to adjust to the dimmer lighting. Sconces lined the far wall but their torches had long been stuffed out by time and disrepair.

Carefully, she picked her way across the cobbled floor. Loose pebbles clattered under hoof and skittered until they hit the wall or a pile of moss. Whichever they happened to encounter first.

Yuzu hummed, thoughtful, and reached up with her tail to grab one of the torches from an abandoned sconce. She held it before her and struck her shod hoof against the stone swiftly, sending sparks flying. It took a few tries, but the torch did bloom into life, casting light and warmth across both herself and the walls.

And there on the wall… there was something she hadn't seen before. Crude drawings of courses painted in rusty browns and reds. Whole herds racing across the wall and converging upon the closed door that would take her deeper into the dungeon. Yuzu canted her head, moving the torch closer, and examined them carefully.

They were done very well. It was clear that once upon a time they had been revered pieces of art. If she had to guess she'd say the paint hadn't been touched up in decades if not centuries, but the care with which each courser was detailed spoke of so much care and love. Whoever had painted these had adored her kind.

Was it one of the fallen human kingdoms that did it? Or perhaps an elf line. It was hard to say.

She placed the torch back in the sconce and instead pulled a sketchbook from her side bag. She would do the proper thing and record her findings here. Sitting down, she set about the task of recreating the art as closely as possible. Surely there was a historian a town over that might know what these once were.

Only once she was satisfied with her depiction and her notes did Yuzu stand once more, giving herself a shake. She put away the sketchbook, then stepped forward to oress her nose against one of the drawings. It, too, breathed lightning and storm in a way she could taste. Magic remnants. A shield? Perhaps.

Yuzu followed the paintings down to the door, idly noting how her skin prickled with each step. Once she was at the door, however, everything stopped. The prickles and the lightning faded away, leaving just her and the wooden door that creaked on unloved hinges.

It was time. The dungeon was waiting for her.