87 When traps trap the trappers

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

The walls of the barrow mounds constantly leaked moisture through cracks in stone masonry. Amidst the rockwork were skulls, both false stone ones as well as real ones, and they all seemed to cry tears as the water slowly dripped down their countenance. The first floor had been cold and slightly damp, but mostly dry. The second floor's air had grown staler and the everything seemed to have a sheen of moisture. But now their group had made it to the third floor and it was as though the earth surrounding them was weeping.

"No wonder they kept all their supplies up top. If they had it any lower they would have gone mouldy within a week. Oi Dahlia, are we positive it's safe to even breathe the air down here?"