The heroes had thought it odd that a tower would progress downwards instead of upwards, but it didn't really matter much. The dragon was expected, and was as such swiftly dealt with it. The Ancient Green Dragon was so old and worn-down from previous adventurers that it wasn't too much of a challenge. However, as they crossed the threshold to the room where they imagined the princess lay, the door swiftly sealed shut behind the heroes.

"What the!? Is this a trap?! Is the king behind this?!?" Maria, the rogue, pounded against the metal door, now sealed shut.

"I don't think so," Oak the Barbarian said, looking around the room cautiously. The room had too many visibly moving parts, had too many bright lines running across it. The group was him, Maria, Baren the Sorcerer, and Lewis the Paladin/Cleric. General... holy warrior type.

A faint buzz filled the air, and a red light shone down on the quartet. They closed back together, weapons at the ready, but nobody came. There wasn't anything... until they heard the voice.

*Humanoids identified.* An old-sounding, robotic voice rang out. *Please request preferred language.* As it was talking in Draconic, none of the party understood it, beyond it sounding intensely dangerous. The old mechanisms cycled through abyssal, celestial, before finally, by chance, repeating the instruction in common.

"...Language?" Baren lifted his hand to his mouth, calling out loudly. "Common! We understand common!" The voice paused as faint whirrs emanated from somewhere within the tower. The voice now spoke again, speaking in common and sounding significantly less evil.

[Welcome- Scanning. Adventurer Garb identified. Welcome, adventurers. What are you doing here?]

"We're here to rescue the princess," Oak called out. "There's endless tales about her. Power and wealth beyond anyone's wildest dreams." The robotic voice was silent as it evaluated the statement.

[Negative.]

"What?"

[Negative. No humanoid lifeforms have been here since I was created.]

"How can there be nothing here? There's got to be something?!" Maria cried out.

[There is something. Something that, long ago, did give power. Did give wealth. But no longer.]

"...What do you mean?"

[My creators, before I was made, made a substance they used to power great machines. Entire continents glowed with light, even in the dead of night. But the substance poisoned them. Thus, they buried it, deep down here. I presume the dragon hatchling outside the chamber is no more?]

"...It isn't, no."

[Unfortunate.]

"...So there's nothing down here? Nobody to save?" The construct was silent for a long time, before the room started glowing. Lights turned on in the room, slowly growing in intensity. Lighting up the walls.. upon which were written strange drawings.

Drawings of people mining into the ground and hitting a strange layer. The layer then released some strange substance that resulted in the people dying horrible, horrible deaths. And in uncountable languages and tongues, with words known and unknown, sprawling over every surface in a maddening mantra, were written phrases. One stood out to the eyes of the adventurers, and though they did not know why, the phrase made their skin crawl.

This place is not a place of honor.

This place is not a place of honor.

This place is not a place of honor.