larig had now been wandering for a few days in the meandering passages of this tellurian labyrinth. The air was foul and damp, with a smell of mildew and sulfur. The ever-present darkness was barely pierced by the dancing light of his torch. To make matters worse, the startling noises that constantly echoed down the tunnels wouldn’t let him to bring his heart back to a reasonable pace.
Where did this crazy idea come from? Motivated by a vision of uncovering old relics or valuable artifacts, he had believed the ramblings of a half-crazed Avalonian monk and now he was as good as lost in the depths of the Morning Mountains. Why would he risk his life for a treasure that probably only existed in the wine-soaked imagination of a mad priest?
He paused for a few moments to rest and try to slow his heart rate. He threw a glance at the leather bag holding his diminishing rations. Very soon he would need to retrace his steps towards Kastel Kaisealta.

As he rested, Alarig’s attention was drawn to a small recess in the rock. He probably would not have paid it any attention if the flame of his torch did not draw shadows like intricate letters on the face of the rock. Moving closer, he found the rock had actually been carved in a very clean and smooth fashion. He took a small notebook from his leather bag and drew closer to trace the symbols. He realized the recess was actually a small tunnel going into the mountain, but his torch was not bright enough to let him see the end of this passageway.
His heart was racing again, but unlike the anxiety of a few minutes ago, now his pulse quickened with excitement. Maybe the old monk was not as mad as he thought. Alarig put away his notebook and entered the damp tunnel, torch first.

As he moved carefully down the tunnel, he could make out veins of Alchemical stones in the walls of the tunnel. He had already seen alchemical stones here, but these were new to him. They glowed red in the light of his torch and Alarig felt warmth emanating from the stones.
The long passage was now covered in small trickles of water, and he had to walk more carefully for fear of slipping on a wet rock. In his excited state, it seemed to take hours to follow this passage, leading him deeper and deeper into the bowels of Mornea.
Finally the narrow tunnel ended, opening into a larger space. He discovered a large metal door, glowing with subtle and intriguing colors, covered in cabbalistic glyphs.
He had finally found something!

He slowly extended a trembling hand towards the door and put his fingertips on it. The door gave a faint vibration and felt slightly warmth. He pushed and the door opened on a small room whose air was extremely dry compared to what he’d been breathing for the last few days. He saw a lectern, rows of shelves covered with books, and parchment scattered everywhere…
One book caught his attention - larger than the other volumes.  He grabbed it and noticed how heavy it was as he hefted it onto the lectern. He started to thumb through the pages and almost cut himself; suddenly realizing the pages were made of paper-thin sheets of metal.

He carefully opened the book to the first page - there was a jumble of unfamiliar symbols and scrawled in crimson across the middle of the page was a sentence:

«The completion of the fool's journey will open the path to the shadows. »

He took a few moments to clear his thoughts, but was interrupted by a growl or snorting noise that seemed to come from one of the far edges of the room.
Alarig decided this was a very good moment to leave this place and moved towards the tunnel. His steps were light and sure, carried by the excitement of his discovery.