Baalhalllu peeked around the curving tunnel wall, muscles bunched as he prepared to spring from the niche he’d pressed his body into.
The tunnel was clear.
Then what was that clicking and scraping I heard? he thought.
With a mental shrug, he moved out of the niche to creep down the tunnel.
What sort of stone is this? he wondered, looking more closely at the jagged black rock which jutted from the walls of the wide tunnel.
It was no natural stone, he knew. Raw, unworked stone didn’t shine like that. The gloss finish was something common to skillfully cut and polished onyx, but this stone looked raw and jagged.
Not unworked, of course. Few wyrms would willingly live in a cave of unworked stone and those few would take pride in living in an entirely...
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