As we crested the lip of the great crater and commenced our faltering descent, we were greeted with visions of ruin and refuse as our pupils dilated to accommodate the gloom. Great fissures had rent the floor with a maze of crevasses, each of which issued a spiral of noxious fumes that mingled with the stale stink of abandonment, rendering us dizzied as we scried our surroundings.

Our attention was immediately seized by the splintered wreckage of arcane gateways that sat silently oxidising in the putrid air - their form and function obscured by great blocks of obsidian that had fallen in shattering shards from the trembling ceiling far above. A faint hum reached our skin before it did our ears, and we turned, unsettled, as muted sparks danced in the periphery of our vision.