Thorne felt he’d seen the uneven ground of this cavern before. Maybe he had. It seemed to him that the dungeon shifted and changed according to some plan of its own, or maybe according to the whims of some chaotic god. Whichever it was Thorne was quite certain that last time he passed this way the ground didn’t roll and twist underfoot. Mindful of his previous encounter with the spike pit Thorne stopped and planted his hooves firmly. They skidded a little as the movement continued. When he looked into a carved obsidian eye Thorne started to understand. The rocks that rose from this cavern’s floor level to that of the next were in fact stone golems. Thorne walking over them on his way through the cavern appeared to have woken them from their slumber.

The courser felt a sense of age from the waking golems. The chill weight of centuries. Had they lain here since these lands were on the surface? The faces that turned stiffly to look at him seemed curious rather than affronted.

“THSSSS!”

Thorne snorted and stepped back without thinking, surprised by the sound, With the golems having moved it felt like Thorne was in for another slide and crash into the ground, and just after the bruises from his last mishap had stopped aching, what a pain.

The expected crash never came. Hands gripped at him, pushed at him, ground reformed, pushing up into his hooves, even as he could see he was being lowered. The stone hands were hard, but smooth and cool, and the golems seemed to want to be gentle. The one he’d been standing on bent and regarded him with concern on the cavern features. “I’m alright. Thanks fellows, I thought I was in for another fall then.” Thorne said to them, hoping they understood. They didn’t seem to have any words, apart from the one wordless sound and the noises of stone on stone the whole co ordinated operation of getting Thorne safely on the ground had been accomplished in silence.

A stone hand gently touched Thorne’s shoulder. Whoever had animated these golems had done so incredibly. The smooth movements, the perfect control, they almost seemed organic. It was a shame then that the carving was so rough, each one of the golems was a basic bipedal form, larger than the remains of armour for bipeds indicated was usual, with no real features that weren’t part of the original rock they’d been formed from. The mouths could open, but they were flat lines slashed in by some kind of tool, and the eyes gave Thorne the impression that the carver had taken advantage of natural inclusions or flaws in the rock to form them.

The constructs had an expectant air, they seemed to be waiting. “I was trying for that opening up there.” Thorne indicated it with his muzzle. “I’m embarrassed to say you all looked like part of the floor when you were still. Oh.” They moved again shuffling around until they formed… steps of a sort from their bodies. Thorne didn’t think the postures would be comfortable for anything not made of rock. “Are you sure it’s alright?”

“Thsss” They existed to serve. That was the idea that came with the sound.

Thorne trotted his way swiftly across the golems. “Well, thank you again. Enjoy your rest. I’ll find another way to come back.” Stone slid over stone again as the golems settled back and appeared as piles of rock again. Thorne noted that they had moved to the centre of the cave. They wouldn’t be mistaken for a way up again. Thorne thought he saw the obsidian eyed one wink at him, but it was probably a trick of the light.