Galamon had his hands on the handles of a turn wheel. As he turned it, a heavy iron gate rose upwards, the sound of chains echoing out into the spacious central lobby. Argrave kneeled low, trying to peer into the opening that appeared to little effect—the place beyond was dark. Argrave gave up and turned around, peering out down to the first floor of the headquarters of the Order of the Rose. He felt exposed in the open place, having grown used to the constancy of the stone walls in the room they’d slept.

“There,” Galamon finished with a grunt, looking up at the iron gate which hung suspended.

Argrave turned around. “Nothing… lurking out there, right?”

Galamon took his hands off the wheel and moved to look around. After ten or so seconds, he nodded. “Nothing near. But still… be cautious. Don’t want you freezing up as you did last time if I missed something.”

“Nor do I,” Argrave agreed, stepping forth. The magic light he’d conjured to light the way followed with him, illuminating some beyond. Anneliese evidently felt the light was insufficient, for she conjured a spell of much grander light. A ball travelled forth from her hand, dispelling the darkness.

The Menagerie of Morbidity lived up to the ‘morbid’ part of its name at once. Compared to the lobby, where one might see the occasional body of a Guardian or the ivory stalks left behind by the destroyed flesh plants that illuminated the area, this place was quite intense.

Despite being a bit ominous, the entrance was quite a stunning sight. The skeletal remains of a dragon hung down from the railings of the second floor of the Menagerie, cracked and decayed but nonetheless glorious. A tree with red, oak-like leaves grew out from its left eye socket. Dozens of other skeletons surrounded the dragon’s corpse. Some bore rotten crimson robes and were decidedly humanoid. Others consisted only of a skull and two arms protruding from where the ears might’ve been—the remains of some Guardians of the Low Way.

The place was wrecked far more so than the other areas of the Low Way. The tile was cracked, both from battle and from growth. Moss covered most of the floor beyond the entrance, ranging in color from purple to blue to red. Trees with red leaves filled up much of the place, at times so dense it was difficult to tell they were inside a building. Their roots disturbed the stone, making the path uneven and awkward. Some of them had white berries growing from their branches. The fruits had rings on the bottom, making them look a bit like eyes from a distance.

“This is why I didn’t eat,” Argrave said, stepping up slowly and pulling a berry from a tree. He put it in his mouth and chewed. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it actually tasted quite pleasant. Then again, after the day he’d had yesterday, anything would likely taste pleasant.

“Are you sure that…?” Anneliese trailed off when Argrave swallowed.

“Pretty good, actually. Kind of like… grapefruit, I guess, but less tangy.” Argrave pulled a few more off.

Anneliese watched with obvious concern. “I do not know what grapefruit is.” When Argrave swallowed another, she quickly said, “Maybe you should not eat so many.”

“It’s safe, don’t worry,” Argrave assured. Argrave held his hands out, the white fruits balanced atop his bony palm. “Try some. Every bit helps. Besides, we don’t want to cut into our rations too deeply.”

Anneliese said hesitantly, staring at the berries. “I

frivolous, Argrave,” Galamon said. “The gate. I think it would be best to leave it open, even if

it, which is unlikely, who says they’re to assume it’s us? Better to leave the

his assessment of the situation, then spent their time

a straightforward path,” Galamon

peering out into the crimson forest beyond. “It opens up into a

the Guardians of the Low Way dead here?” Anneliese questioned, noticing the abundance

pushed one with his toe. “This place… uncomfortably crowded, a lot of places to hide,” Argrave looked ahead. “We should probably

the strain of walking less on the back and feet, but the uneven terrain made watching one’s step paramount—twisting

inside the forest, Argrave got the chilly feeling that a thousand gazes were on him at once. Argrave tried eating more of the berries to dispel that feeling, but the taste was ruined when

corpses of creatures within. It was difficult to perceive what exactly they were. The things within the Menagerie of Morbidity had been made of human parts. Because of the imperfect spell used in their creation, they slowly morphed back into the shape they had been molded from. They would see the body of a tiger, for instance, yet the head had been morphed back into an arm or leg. Even as bone, it

the Menagerie, and eventually, the stone cells housed the still-living. A great black bull huffed at them as they passed by, the horns on its head morphed into two skeletal arms that moved with an apparent will of their own. The creature approached the steel bars that held it, and the two arms reached out, bony fingers grasping the bars as any human prisoner might. It unsettled Argrave more than he cared to admit, and he did not feel at ease walking by it. He

was enough that each and every step was ever more uncertain. The smell of rot made Argrave nauseous. The hallway they had been travelling on

varying colors and lengths. Cuts and scratches marred its

the room to be sure nothing was amiss. A dog-like animal of indeterminable species

to go so slow,”

out of sorts, but… hard to hear. Hard to smell,”

“Then…?” Argrave pressed.

Cautiously.” Galamon looked up at him, white eyes

side. We follow it until the end. Whether we weave through the cages or follow along the wall… I’ll

rising to his

human arms, which made their movements awkward and jerky. They screeched horribly as the three of them passed. The sight that made Argrave most uneasy, though, was an empty cage.

second hallway, moving along to the end of the line. This place was much more open than the entryway and largely free of obscuring

Third on the left,” Argrave

out a sigh of relief. They proceeded upwards, and Argrave stopped them at

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