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Within the subterranean, web-choked city, slaughter wasn't confined solely to the heights of the tower.
In the unseen shadows were entire groups of captives, imprisoned by the drow, sealed inside cells cocooned in thick spider silk.
The drow spoke of overthrowing the tyranny of the undead, but in truth, they were little different themselves. To them, those captives were nothing more than slaves, food, and expendable resources.
In this dark domain, there could be no morality nor mercy, only the law of the jungle, of the strong devouring the weak.
And yet, the slaves who were meant to be flayed and butchered were vanishing one by one.
Something in the darkness appeared to be consuming them.
There were no screams, nor cries for help. Only the faint, sickening sound of chewing, of flesh and bone crushed into nothingness in a way that made one's scalp crawl.
To avoid any trouble, the drow had paralyzed these slaves with poison. Their minds remained conscious, but their bodies could not move. One after another, they died under the assault of the unseen...
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