The library opened up around them like the jaws of some ancient, esoteric creature, poised to swallow them whole. Cobwebs clung to stumbling bookshelves, painted an eerie grey by damp and dust, wavering in the tiniest of drafts.

Aislinn, doe-eyed and curious, wandered in without thought, lips alighting on book after book as she flitted between them like a dancer, more enthusiastic than she’d been the entire trip through the dungeons.

“There must be centuries of knowledge here,” she breathed, melodic voice filled with fascination and awe.

Wolf, less interested in the decaying tomes that were sprawled and littered about the crumbling room like the aftermath of some great, ancient battle, was instead rooting around in a chest, Emberclaw snapping at him in disgruntlement as he searched for treasure.

Stood beneath the cracked arch of the library’s entrance, Castalla and Karlach shared a glance. This was not the first cadaveric archive they had stumbled unwittingly upon, and it took no more than one guess as to what might occur next. Karlach pulled the cleaver from its sheath with a gleeful smile, while Castalla rolled her eyes, sighing deeply as she braced herself for what would happen next.

“I wouldn’t get too close to the books,” Castalla called out, voice edged like a dagger, but already the flutter of pages and the howl of unfathomable voices broke the awe-filled quiet.

A loud thump, accompanied by a surprised yelp from Wolf announced the first attack and suddenly books were flying everywhere. Karlach sliced through one with a triumphant shout, grinning ear to ear as she shielded Aislinn, pushing the singer into an alcove where she might be covered from the worst of the attacks.

Castalla ducked from a few aggressive scriptures, shoving one from the air with her shoulder as she pushed through the swarm to Wolf and Emberclaw. Peaking between the horde of enchanted literature was the door, bathed in shadow and marked by time. It beckoned balefully, as though it had born witness to thousands who failed before it’s visage and had long ago resigned itself to witnesses failure upon failure.