Dream Diary of Allura
19th of Vismos, 474 A.F.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
In the pitch black cave, the dripping was the only source of sound. All else was silent. The barely visible ripples that formed in the shallowy pool were the only source of movement. All else was still.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
It continued, the sound amplifying with each drop. Soon it was as loud as a drum. The ground started to tremble in time with each new drop.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The walls of the cavern produced sharp cracking sounds as they faulted. The earth groaned and heaved as it expanded in time with the hammer blows of the droplets.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Chunks of earth started to fall from the ceiling as the cavern began to collapse. The slabs of stone shattering upon the ground as they made impact. The dripping persisted; the sound deafening.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
A monolithic boulder crashed down from above, and the sky was revealed. The cathedral sized cavern was illuminated by the pure white light of the outside world. In the center of the room was a young halfling girl; impaled upon a wicked iron hook that hung from the ceiling. The blood was still dripping from her fingertips; pooling beneath her and obscuring most the ritual circle.
Drip. Drip. Drip.