The gnomish artificer bursts into the room, sees you panting from the struggle - his robots smashed to peices.
“AH! Intruders!” he shrieks and draws a purple flask. He throws it to the ground, and it bursts into a cloud of purple smoke!
It fills the room and your lungs, causing you to cough uncontrollably. Once it clears, you see a tunnel heading deeper into the darkness.
I’m a place of focus where silence is loud,
Where stillness can draw quite a curious crowd.
Long lanes stretch ahead, all ending the same,
With circles that beckon precision and aim.
No voices need carry, no footsteps must roam,
Stand steady, take measure, let practice be home.
Your adventure continues here!