Mercy Hall
"These are stairs carved of stone." Mercy descends the narrow stairwell, traveling down below ground level. "How far do they go?" She touches the light-silver bedrock streaks on the walls.
"About another hundred and fifty feet, but we won't be going that far."
She follows close on Ambrose's heels.
The deeper she travels, the darker the limestone turns. Midway down, the light-gray walls fade into shades of a bluish gray. At the base of the stairs, she steps into an open cavern.
Two circular openings on the right lead deeper into the bowels of the earth. To the left, there's a gaping hole in part of the ceiling.
Housing, this was a home that, in a time long past, provided shelter for a whole group of dwellers. People who had lives to live, families to raise. Now, they're a distant memory in the current civilization's thoughts.