"What is ‘home’ to you? Where do you go when the adventure is done, and who is there with you? Are you a surface-dweller, or have you adapted completely to the dungeons?" ✦ The group moved carefully through the Moor of Sleep, their hooves squelching in the sodden earth. The eerie fog that hung over the landscape muted the world, making every sound seem distant and muffled. It was a rare moment...

"Where are your roots? Are there any famous adventurers in your family, or are you the first of your line?" ✦ As they made their way through the damp, mist-covered Moor, Tyffyn bounced alongside Camellia, her energy as boundless as ever. "So.... Camellia...." Tyffyn began, her voice light and curious, "We've known each other for a long time aaaand.... I feel like I don't know you from Jack." The palomino mare grinned. "So....what's your deal? Whe...

"A muffled clanging sound can be heard beating against the walls of the Furnace. Do you recognize the sound of a forge? How much experience do you have with weapons?" ✦ Selaine’s ears twitched and swiveled as a muffled clanging sound echoed through the Furnace, the rhythmic beat of metal against metal reverberating through the air. The heat pressed in, but she barely noticed it as her attention sharpened. She paused mid-step, tilting her head sl...

"The jury isn’t out on whether dragons truly lurk the dungeons. Some veteran adventurers claim to have seen them with their own eyes. Surely they wouldn’t be this close to the surface? The shadow you see on the wall begs to differ. You brace yourself to battle the beast – but the creature that accosts you is much smaller. A pesky wyrm coughs its tiny flame at you, mugging you for gold to add to its hoard." ✦ The blistering heat of the Furnace pressed...

Unlike the levels above it, the floor of the Moor is spongy and wet. Your hooves sink down into it as you step - and come away red. How strange. What do you suppose is causing this pigment in some areas? It can't possibly be blood... Right? The Moor stretched endlessly, its spongy, wet ground clinging to Camellia’s hooves with every step. She paused, frowning as she lifted a hoof and noticed the streak of deep crimson staining...

You've made it deeper into the Dungeon now. As you delve further into its secrets, you aren't resting quite as easily. Your dreams become... stranger. What's haunting you in your sleep? The air in the depths of the dungeon was heavier, colder, and carried with it a silence so loud it felt chilled her bones. Camellia had grown used to the unease that crept into her thoughts as they delved deeper, but now it was seeping into her sleep. Every time she closed her e...

Every bone half-buried on the battlefield was picked clean long ago, but still, crows land on them. At least... They look like crows from afar. Do you get closer? What do you see?   The wind howled across the moors, a mournful sound that seemed to carry with it the weight of centuries of forgotten battles. The fog clung to the earth, swirling in the air as if it, too, had never left the battlefield. Camellia’s lanterned staff illuminated the path ahea...

You come across the frame and torn skin of a drum lying on the Moor. Have you heard music before? Do you like it? And who would play music in a place like this?   The lanterned staff in Camellia’s grasp cast a warm glow over the strange sight before her: the frame of a drum, its skin torn and flapping slightly in the cold wind of the Moor. The damp air carried the faint scent of rot and earth, and somewhere far off, the low, mournful cry of the wind swept a...