The New Notion Club Archives
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The New Notion Club Archives
"Before you even lift your light, you feel at once this must be a tomb. The dusty air is stifling but not foul. Now and then you feel a draft of cool air, issuing from un-guessed openings in the walls. The sound of your footsteps echoes hollowly. No gleam comes from your elven blade. Square stone pillars in a line reach back into darkness. The first bears a bronze plaque. Written in Fëanorian characters is the name "Telandring", and beneath it, in an antique mode of the Common Speech: "Here lie in glory Master Herion, last of his line with his beloved ancestors until the West rise again - Mardahir Stoneworker he carved the Hall in the fourth year of Belegorn , ruling Steward" Along the walls to north and south lie coffins, sarcophagi, superbly carved in black stone. To the north are men, finely dressed; to the south, women in flowing gowns. But they are all defiled, their lids thrown askew, bones piled at their pedestals' base.

A dry pebble cave, accessible only by those who dared to dive beneath the northern headwaters of the Ascarwing, gave entry to a forgotten tomb-complex of Fornithilien.Here, inside a natural stone hall the nobles of Fornithilien had buried their dead.

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