The dungeon was darker and wetter than he had ever imagined. Beau had spent most of his life on the surface. As a foal, he had dreamed of being a great adventurer, hearing stories of the dungeon delvers who would fight great beasts, discover lost wisdoms, and lavish in bounties of treasure. But the mature stallion could've never prepared for this. The walls were covered in moss and ferns. Life poured from every crevice in the stone as if trying to force it's way through and escape what lay behind them. Everything felt dank and damp. The sounds of water dripping down distant tunnels, creatures skittering through the shadows just out of view, and his hooves occasionally landing on bare stone were his only company.

That is until he entered a room. It was a bit less overhwelmed with the growth than the tunnel had been. Mounted on the opposite wall was a skull. A rather imposing sight for someone so new to the dungeons, but Beau had more years behind him than most new adventurers. He approached with curiosity. The skull was magnificently adorned with jewels and silks. It wore a decaying, leather bridle with a curious metal piece held between it's jaws. An odd addition, it must've been terribly uncomfortable for the poor courser. Beau imagined what that might feel like, a hard piece of metal pressed against his tongue as the metallic tang of it eroded his throat. He shook his head at the thought. What could've possessed one of his ancestors to choose to wear such a thing?

It appeared the skull sat atop a small shrine. This courser must've been well loved to be given such a lavish resting place. Other dungeon divers may see this as an opportunity for loot, but not the noble hearted Beau. He dipped his head, taking a moment to pay his respects, and turned to press onward preparing for the next mystery he may stumble upon.