The corridor continued for what seemed like an eternity. No devices were carved into the wall. No statues were found. One could tell that the Dwarves felt no love for this place, and their feelings were shown in the architecture. Now the party moved along nothing to keep their attention but the light from the end of Calenon’s staff, the horrible smell of rotting dwarf, and the ever growing sound of munching and tearing of flesh. Richard hung back and stuck a match against the wall, it flared and lit, but even the natural flame didn’t help to make the light carry farther in this awful blackness. Richard frowned and took his place after Calenon in the marching order. The corridor curved slightly as they traveled and after about another seventy feet, an opening could finally be seen within their radius of light.
"If there is chewing, however, I imagine it's likely to be a biter. Prepare yourselves." Calenon warned and started chanting the spider language of a spell. As it finished Calenon spoke a final word. “Drokkat!” And his body was covered in a blue sheen. At long last the party emerged into another chamber.
The chamber was quite large but the ceiling was low only, about six feet in height. The room stretched about fifty-five feet long ways and about forty-feet at it’s widest most point. The room was shaped like a lima bean, oval shaped but bent in the middle. Their were four exits to the room, the door way they were standing in which lied at one end of the room, a passage fifteen feet to their left, another passage about forty feet away across the room, and a fourth passage way at the far end of the room a good sixty feet away. The room mass made of the same polished black stone. The chamber was apparently the burial chamber for a dwarfish guard of some kind. Six Dwarfish sarcophagi were spread evenly across the room, providing about five feet of movement space between them, and the remains of honored dwarves lined the walls each occupying it’s own alcove. The sarcophagi were intricately carved with the death shrouds of each dwarf and the ancient dwarven language was written among the alcoves in the walls and upon the floor itself.
But the specifics of the room were not what interested the party as they entered the catacomb. No. What interested the party where the two horrors that had overturned a few of the sarcophagi and were now gnawing upon the decade flesh of the dwarves. They looked like they once were human, but that vestige had been shed long ago. Their flesh, which was purple and rotten, hung off them exposing their skeletal frame and the stench of death and corruption that hung around them was overwhelming. They looked up from their ghastly meal as the light entered the room and reflected off their pale black eyes. Tearing meat off the leg in his hand opened his mouth wider than a human mouth would allow, exposing tears in his cheeks, and spoke in the Entmarkian tongue with a voice that seemed like it hadn‘t spoken in years.
“I … see… fresh meat.”
The other looked up holding what was left of a decayed heart and let out an unearthly howl which echoed in the stifling silence of the place.
“Well least we see where the smell comes from.” Remarked Thomas