These scrolls by an unknown warrior held no marks of time. I decided to sort them based on the writer’s perceived sanity. His encounters with these so-called Caverns of Chaos seemed to erode his mind in a spectacular and most interesting fashion.
-From the records of Scribe Antius
“A peculiar thing, sitting in my hand, the single emerald eye blinking at me in the flickering torchlight, the golden band encircling it the only cool thing in this blasted furnace way below where any sane man would travel. The corruption saturating this chaos-rotten place has long since infected me, seeping into the very core of my being. I could no longer claim myself to be a sane man. The sights I had seen, the things I had done, the madness I had endured, all changing me, all making me stronger, more determined.
The emerald ring in my hand was a false promise of a safety I may never feel again, the enchantment on it providing a pleasant chill to counter the roar of flames I heard ahead of me.
They wanted it back. The scaled kobolds, the thieving ratlings. They wanted the ring back, my ring, my salvation from this infernal heat.
They would not have it.
Gently, I placed the ring on my tongue, resisting the temptation to crush it between my teeth. It hurt when I swallowed, but pain was something I am used to by now, and I relished the feeling of gentle numbness as its enchantment spread from my intestines. Giving in to the madness whispering in my ears ever since I set foot into this cave, I took out the other rings I had found during my travels and stared at them. They would hurt, too, but the pain would pass.