Forests of Wyndmoor Part Five: Into the Darkness
The spirit turns its head slightly, as though beckoning me forward, before it resumes its ethereal march toward the newly revealed path.
Welcome back everyone, I hope you’ve all had an amazing week. I’ve spent most of my time this week playing League of Dungeoneers (2nd Edition) which arrived on Monday last week. A birthday gift to myself, last year, finally arriving after almost exactly one year. So far, despite some typo’s and layout issues, I’m having a blast.
Also, note the color change. I know this messes with some posts from the past, I’ll have to go back and fix those. But I feel a darker background plays into the current theme. With that said, let’s dive right back into the Forests of Wyndmoor with part five…
If you missed it, or need a recap, part four can be found here:
The Forests of Wyndmoor Part Five
Into the Darkness
Stepping back out of the room, I’m faced with a long towering hallway that leads deeper into the darkness. She must have gone this way… there are no other paths.
The air here is thicker, moist and cold, but not due to the temperature; more due to the ancient spirits that seem to be around every corner. Since arriving in this place I’ve not once felt like I was alone, not even back in the forest. Something or someone is always around. Watching from the corners and dark places and sometimes reaching out to touch or scratch at my skin.
…perhaps they’re warning me. I’m not even sure what I’m getting myself into…
‘But, this is what I do…’, I said out loud. Perhaps attempting to convince myself, or at the very least attest to the spirits that I’ve been through this before. Many times. Only never quite like this…
This place is different… so many are here, watching me from all over.
I can hardly see the way forward. The darkness absorbs all but a few meters of the light from my torch as I work my way down the hallway.
(Card Pull: 9 of Diamonds: significant changes, particularly those that involve material or worldly shifts, possibly related to physical space or the environment around me.)
(D4 = 1: An encounter)
I can sense that as I continue further that I am in fact moving downward. Deeper underground. After several minutes it feels like the floor begins to level off just as a slight breeze moves towards me from ahead. I can’t be sure, but I think I see a faint light in the distance. However it’s gone before I can be sure of anything for certain.
Moving forward another 100 or so feet it becomes quite apparent that there is a room just ahead. A faint yellow tone sits in the distance, just as I had seen prior. It’s moving and shifting and before long is gone just like before.
Finally reaching the end of the hallway the darkness opens up into an expansive chamber, seemingly lit on its own, the faint yellow light lingers in this space. The light fades slightly, waning toward one direction of the room, then the next as if attempting to find an escape. The rooms high ceilings lost in shadow, and I can just make out the faint outline of a set of stairs leading down into a central chamber. My torch flickers, casting uncertain light over the rough-hewn stones.
As I head towards the stairs the atmosphere thickens even more, a near tangible weight pressing down from all directions. Just as I step forward, a cold sensation wraps itself around my chest. My breath catches as I spot a figure—a spirit—drifting across the far end of the chamber. It moves with an eerie calm, gliding through the air as if unaware of its surroundings. Curiously, the spirit does not seem to acknowledge my presence.
Could it be the sign of something more? I feel as though the very room is waiting, anticipating a change, something on the verge of shifting. There’s an unsettling stillness, as if the spirit’s path has crossed with mine for a reason I have yet to understand.
I watch as the spirit continues its slow, steady path across the room, its translucent form barely disturbing the air around it. The temperature drops even further, and I instinctively pull my cloak tighter. As it nears the center of the room, something strange begins to happen. The faint light from my torch flickers again, but this time it isn’t just the flame struggling against the damp, cold air. Shadows stretch unnaturally, pooling beneath the spirit like ink spilled on the ground.
I take a cautious step back, watching as the spirit pauses. Its head tilts slightly, not toward me but toward the walls of the chamber. Without warning, the stones groan as if the ancient temple itself is responding to the spirit’s presence. Loose pebbles and debris tremble, vibrating ever so slightly, and the walls appear to swell, pushing outward before settling once more.
The spirit raises a hand, and I can see its fingers brush against the air, leaving faint ripples that shimmer and dissolve into the stone walls. There’s a shift—like the room itself is breathing, or perhaps listening.
Suddenly, the spirit’s form flickers and fades for a moment, before reappearing on the opposite side of the room, just below me. It seems to be interacting with the space, not as if it’s trapped here, but as though it’s intimately familiar with the temple’s structure.
What is it trying to tell me?
(Card Pull: 8 of Diamonds - relates to knowledge, focus, or hard work. It suggests that something valuable or important is within reach but requires effort)
(D4 = 3: No encounter)
Before I can react, the spirit lowers its hand, and a low rumbling echoes through the chamber. A portion of the wall behind the spirit slides open, revealing a narrow passageway leading deeper into the temple. The spirit turns its head slightly, as though beckoning me forward, before it resumes its ethereal march toward the newly revealed path.
I stand there, hesitant. It hasn’t acknowledged me directly, but its actions seem deliberate, as if it’s guiding me somewhere—or luring…
The stairs give off to a first floor where the spirit opened the passage way, and I make note that they continue downward into a second, smaller pit-like area below as I move towards the freshly opened space.
To my shock and surprise there are three, tall hooded figures standing along one side of the wall as I enter the room. The passage forward just inside the longer corridor behind a large closed gate. The figures, while lifelike upon first encountering them stand side by side, made of stone, covered in dust and webs and from the looks of it, several footsteps and scuff marks appear in dust around them. Their hands bound by shackles, a thick steal chain hangs from their shackles drops into a holes in the ground below.
Upon closer examination of the statues they appear to move, however despite my attempts I’m unable to budge any of them and decided to head back out and down the stairs, but first I take a closer look at the iron gate blocking my path. It’s quite sturdy and shows little signs of wear despite the age of this place. There aren’t any obvious ways to open it, and attempt to lift it reveal a chain mechanism is used to lift it, but not from here.
The room is heavy with silence, save for the soft creaking of the old bookshelf I discover. I reach down, brushing aside cobwebs and dust, and pull one of the worn books from the shelf. Flipping through its pages, I stop at a section filled with cryptic diagrams. Something about these symbols… they look familiar. Similar to the ones seen back at the cabin.
There—one of the diagrams. A circular arrangement of symbols, almost like a clock, but instead of numbers, there are runes and markings that remind me of the statues above. A small note is scribbled in the margin: “The chains that bind.”
My heart races as I realize the connection. The statues upstairs—those dark, hooded figures. Their chains lead into the ground. Could this diagram be a key? Perhaps the positions of the statues and their chains need to align with the runes in the diagram.
I head back upstairs, book in hand. The statues stand motionless, their hollow, shadowed faces watching me with cold indifference. But now I’m here to solve their secret. Kneeling by the base of one, I spot a symbol etched faintly into the stone—a match to one of the runes in the diagram.
The puzzle is clear now. I need to rotate these statues, move their chains, and align them according to the pattern in the diagram. It won’t be easy—these figures are ancient and foreboding, but I have no other choice.
One by one, I work on each statue, slowly shifting the position of the chains as the statues spin. The chains clatter and drag against the sides of the holes, echoing in the vast emptiness of the room. As the final statue slides into place, the air grows thick with tension.
Then, a low rumbling sound emerges from deep within the ground. The chains rattle as though possessed, and the two statues on the ends turn to face one another, their empty hoods locked in a silent conversation. The third statue shifts back a few feet, creating a narrow passage between them.
I take a breath, my skin tingling as I approach the newly opened path. As I move between the towering figures, the whispering begins. Faint at first, but then louder—a swirling cacophony of voices, their words unintelligible but their meaning unmistakable. They are watching me. Judging me.
The stone robes brush against me as I squeeze past, and for a moment, I feel the weight of their gaze deepen. A chill runs down my spine, and I glance upward, but all I see is the vast, impenetrable darkness of their hoods.
And then I’m through, standing on the other side. The whispering fades, but the unease remains. Whatever those statues were guarding, I’m now one step closer to uncovering.
Just behind the statue to the left is an additional chain with a small round handle. Nervously I place my hand over the handle and pull downward. A clanking in the distance, followed by another closer by, then another in the room outside and finally the gates chains roar to life as I push my way back through the statues. As I approach the gate it begins to raise slightly, then stops about a third of the way, before halting in place, the chains seizing in place.
With the statues now motionless against the walls, the only sound left is the faint echo of chains rattling behind them. My eyes settle on the massive iron gate at the far end of the room, partially lifted by the mechanism I triggered moments ago. It stands as a dark sentinel, barring my way forward, though a small gap now offers just enough space to slip beneath it.
I approach cautiously, feeling the weight of the statues’ gaze still upon me. Every step closer to the gate brings a new wave of unease, like the walls themselves are holding their breath. I crouch low and duck beneath the narrow opening, the cold iron scraping against my back as I pass through.
On the other side, the air feels heavier, darker—thicker. It’s as though I’ve crossed an invisible threshold, entering a place where the shadows cling tighter and the silence is unnerving. A faint sound catches my attention—footsteps. But not my own. Slow, deliberate, and coming from somewhere just beyond the edge of the torchlight.
I freeze, my pulse quickening as I strain to see into the darkness ahead. Whatever it is, it’s close. Watching. Waiting.
Before I can make a move, the gate slams shut behind me with a deafening crash, sealing me inside. And then, from the far corner of the room, a low whisper—almost a breath, yet unmistakably human—cuts through the stillness.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Who do you think that is? The spirit that lead us in here? The Forest Witch? Someone else perhaps? I really have no idea… But we’ll find out next time. For now, I hope everyone has a great week, stay mindful, stay kind and as always, please take care of yourself and one another.