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The walls of the great hall were mottled, runes carved directly into them. The strokes were bold, as if painted with iron hooks and silver strokes, carrying the traces of time. The stone platform was older than the hall itself.
On the surface, it looked like nothing more than an ordinary crescent-shaped stone platform, yet it radiated an inexplicable, ancient aura that stirred the heart. It was clearly not something of the present age.
The platform was covered in scars. No one knew whether it had been damaged in some ancient war, or if it had always been this way. Its surface was crisscrossed with chaotic markings, to the point that it was impossible to tell what kind of design they once formed.
Within the hall, aside from...
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