It was often as though the dungeon was sentient, taking pleasure in entrapping those who dared breach it, relishing the coursers who stumbled blindly and second guessed every corner, ever fork in the path. Even the veterans, those who claimed some knowledge of the twisting tunnels and labyrinthian corridors, could find themselves walking in circles or wandering into a peril that they could swear hadn't been there last time.
Wolf, Aislinn, Karlach and Castalla seemed to be victims of the endless parade of mishaps and dangers, as they now stood before two doors, the paths hidden beneath faces etched into the rocks above.

The smiling face, its craggy expression wide and beckoning, beamed down at them like a soft sliver of sunlight amid the constant shadows of the fallen kingdom. Its voice, smooth like the shell of a pebble fashioned by water's caress, echoed through the low cavern.

"Come this way, friends. Treasures await you."

But the frowning face, etched deep into the edifice above, scowled as though the very words of its counterpart turned to bitter ash upon the crevice of its features. Its voice seemed to resonate within the very ground beneath their hooves, low and rumbling like approaching thunder on a distant horizon. "Do not trust the smile. My door is the truth, dark as it may be." The words lingered upon the air like mist, heavy and foreboding.

Castalla narrowed her pale eyes, regarding the doors that were both edges of a double-sided blade. She highly doubted that either were what they seemed.

"Well, that's a load of shit, isn't it?" Karlach grunted from beside her. "A smiling rock? Yeah 'cause that doesn't scream trap." Beaky, perched on Karlach's shoulder, hissed in agreement, his tiny wings flapping for emphasis.

Like Castalla, Aislinn was quietly observing the doors. By her hooves, Autumn sat patiently, one ear flicking every-so-often at some sound deep in the caverns behind them. "They both sound wrong," Aislinn whispered, her voice melodic even when she spoke.

Wolf, perhaps a little less burdened by reason and caution, shifted impatiently from hoof to hoof, his eyes gleaming as a grin tugged at his lips. "Well I say we take the smile. Seems like a good bet to me - I've got a hunch!"
Emberclaw clicked their mandible disapprovingly and Castalla could have sworn she saw the ant roll their eyes.

"Surely if we choose the darkest door and expect that which is beyond to reflect the face, then we wouldn't be walking into a trap?" Aislinn asked softly.

The frown growled again, the gravelly timbre snaking round the chamber. "The smile is deceiving you. What is comfort worth if you walk into a trap?"

"Sounds like something a frowning rock would say," Karlach muttered. She trusted her gut, but right now her body was tired from hours of wandering and her gut wanted dinner.

Castalla sighed, stepping forward. "For once I just wish the dungeon would give us a straight answer."

Wolf, impatient as ever, stepped up to the smiling door. "Well? We're not gonna stand here all day, right? Let's go for the smile, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Remind me why we keep you around, Wolf," Karlach joked, nudging the shorter courser with her shoulder. He staggered a step or two (and judging by the expression on his face, he hoped no one noticed).

They all glanced at Castalla, trusting her to make the final call. She took a deep breath, the responsibility settling heavily, but familiarly upon her shoulders. "We go with the frowning door."