The mine smelled of damp earth, old blood, and spider venom. Dark, cramped, and exactly as unpleasant as expected. Managed to slip past most of the trouble, but a gnoll patrol forced me deeper than I wanted to go.
Came out the other side into unfamiliar woods. That’s when I saw it, an old house, half-burned, sitting where no house should be. No proper path leading to it. Door hanging crooked. Looked like no one had lived there for years.
Inside was mostly ash and dust. Except for one thing: a solid chest, still locked tight. Someone had gone through the trouble of securing it properly before they left. Or before the fire.
I didn’t have time to work the lock. Gnolls were circling too close. Had to leave it behind.
Can’t stop thinking about it though. Why lock something so carefully in a place no one was supposed to find?