Creator

"why don't you just kill us all?"

"its not my place. Now, lift!"

A woman with short hair, wearing ragged clothes stood inside a tunnel, above her were faint rumblings like the echoes of an unending thunderstorm.

Her hands were raised aloft, and it held a massive metallic object more than fifty feet long, in front of her and behind her were dozens of burly men with some women thrown in the mix, all of them held the object above them as they struggled to walk through the tunnel.

The woman's feet dug into the earth that had become harder than steel over the course of centuries by the people who walked upon it. For everyone who walked these tunnels carried heavy burdens.

The materials of the tunnels were cursed, for they sapped the strength from muscle and every bit of Aether in the blood, all to keep the prisoners docile and easy to slaughter.