This room holds many things....
Artifacts from an ancient time which held no records. Walls covered by near emptied stone shelves enclose the room. The air is stale and fingerprint marks identify the rogues who laid claim to those timeless antiquities which once filled the room. Now upon the shelves lays broken antiquities which were once the reason for battlefields to became sanguine lakes.
And there is also a length of chain.
It looks old and ruined, seemingly held together by the fact no one had disturbed its rest in the millenniums since it's placement.
But if you could learn to see, you could spot the scars within it's ruined surface which tell of struggle and sacrifice.
It sounds like nothing as chains undisturbed are to sound.
But if you could learn to listen, you would start to hear moans of pain.
And if you learned to wait you would find that as time passed, ten kingdoms would fall and rise before the chain would finally break.
And if you learned all three, to see, to listen, and to wait, you would hear an old blacksmith who forged these chains in the mountains where no one would hear the beat of his hammer against steel under the stars. You would see the sweat across his body making him shine in the firelight. And you would feel the pain in his eyes as he thought of the boy who's life would be lost because of his toil.
You would hear the boy screaming as he was chained across a tree in the very same mountain the blacksmith worked. You would see the dim yellow eyes of a dark beast whose horror filled the boy in his last moments. And you would feel the tear of skin as the beast slammed its teeth shut around boy and chain alike.
