The iron doors part loudly, drawing you into a great vault illuminated by stone-rimmed wells of belching fire. At the far end of the vault, broad steps climb 15 feet to a platform supporting two stone sarcophagi and a pair of braziers. Statues of armored warriors stand at the base of the steps, to either side of which is a raised gallery 20 feet above the floor.
Zombie Yellowskull bandits stand silent in the vault, reeking of death. Behind them, at the top of the stairs, a human wearing a golden mask shaped like a skull limps forward, drawing a crimson orb from the folds of his black robe. His voice is hollow and hateful. “This tomb will be yours unless you leave, now.”