"We should probably leave after we're done eating," you say. Too busy eating, no one questions you. Until, when the last plate is licked clean, the walls waver, and vanish. Suddenly you're surrounded by the undead, who are unable to look astonished at your sudden appearance. Still, astonished they must have been, for they paused a moment before falling upon you in a ravening horde.
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I mean, really? What did you expect? YOU WERE SURROUNDED!
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You pause, letting the riddle settle into your mind.
"What is buried underground, but towers over the land?" Turning to face your companions, your gaze loses focus. You turn it inward, struggling to find an answer to the riddle.
"Time itself cannot weather it, but it weathers with time." The answer to this part seems obvious. Stone. If wind, sand and sea did not exist, stone would last forever. Whatever the answer to the riddle, it would be something made of stone. A tower? A tower is made of stone.
You open your mouth, then shut it again. No. Tower's are not also buried. What would be buried? A tombstone? Again you disregard the thought. Tombstones hardly stand taller than knee height. What was taller than a tombstone, was also stone, and was buried...
There is an almost audible click as your brain snaps onto the correct answer.
"Standing stone," you blurt, before you could stop yourself.
You return your gaze to the room, noting that everyone in it is staring at you, their expressions matching in the palpable tension that now lay about the room like a suffocating blanket.
The silence stretches on.
"Menhir," the soft, feminine voice sighs. "Stones that stand. Yes."
"Oh, thank God," Mordina whispers.
Silence answers her relief.
"So... uh..." you say. "Are we allowed to go?"
Silence.
"Hello?"
"There is great evil all around," the voice answers. "You must wait."
"Breathable air is a concern," Drest notes.
As if in answer to that concern, a soft breeze moves through the room.
"Hey," Mordina says, smiling. "Do you think if I mention that I'm starving, we'll get some food too?"
