Deeper in he went, the walls wrapped in dark green foliage and the odd flickers of fire light emanating from the air itself it seemed. Nothing in this place made true sense and the depths of its magicks knew no bounds. On the surface, the others would balk at just the very few things he already encountered. Then, perhaps, they'd call him insane. Maybe he was beginning to understand why the other adventurers spoke so little of their ventures.

'Follow me,' she whispers sweetly.

In front of him, the culmination of the presence that lingered on him crackled and then as if struck by the might of flint sparked to life. Something ancient feeling and powerful yet again tainted the air. It beckoned Petrichor further as the caves began to open up and the darkness shrouded him. The flicker of energy followed him. Its gentle glow was a flashlight and the rocks shone dimly all around him.

He wasn't entirely sure why it had chosen to cling to him, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth... or, well, wait a minute.

There in the distance, something was clinging to the cavern's walls. Light from the Wisp that followed him made the figure glitter even brighter than the crown had. It reflected beautifully off of something and painted the passage in a kaleidoscope of colors. Truly, he'd never seen such a marvel before. It was incredible.

Marching ever closer, the stark white amongst elegant jewelry was enough to give him pause. Decorated by a bridle of great extravagance, it made for quite the place for a morbid funeral. How long had it been sitting there? And why was it left?

A skull the only thing left of someone of his Ancient's past, Petrichor approaches the makeshift altar to the fallen with hesitance. Skittishly flitting to and fro, the Wisp bobbed back and forth and painted the bone in an eerie shade of blue as its shiny components glowed back.

Then, something shined a bit brighter as he shifted his head downwards. In the mouth attached to the bridle was a metal apparatus of unknown origin or use. Just the vision of it made him deeply uncomfortable. Instead of a peaceful gravesite, it now felt like this poor soul had been in great distress before passing. There was nothing he could think of that would find such a contraption joy-filled.

Perhaps it was something to steel the Ancient Coursers' will. Or perhaps it held a tradition long lost to time. Was it once a test of strength and patience that only the best of the best could withstand?

If his ancestors did so many feats of strength like that, why is it that they have kept it to themselves? Was it deemed too cruel to continue? If that was so, he was just glad to be born in the age of forward thinking. Still, a piece of history sat perfectly preserved in such a foliage-rich biosphere. There was an amount of respect due for something like that.

Bending his head down, he bows to the mounted skull, gestures to his new Wisp friend, and continues to walk past it. The final serenity of the moment passes and when he looks back, sure enough, the vision of it is gone. It had a story to tell and now that it was done, it was swallowed back into the mysterious dungeon.

He had to admit that the buried kingdom held strange wonders. Even weirder than he was told. Father would dismiss him and send him straight back to the forest to pick more herbs for dinner. Mother would let him sit with her as she praised him for his imaginative stories.

Ghosts don't get an opinion on the facts here. Well... he looks up at the Wisp and it flickers as if to greet his stare. Maybe one ghostly creature could have an opinion.

'Follow me,' the plants echoed the voice through.

"I'm coming." He promised back.

Walking deeper still, both Courser and Wisp companion carved their way through an impressive labyrinth of flora. He had not caught sight of monsters yet... but it was just a matter of time. He could only hope he was prepared when it showed itself.