[Moosh da Outlaw]

The temple cellar was cool and damp. Their only light in the inky darkness was a torch clasped in Ophelia's hand, with illuminated the numerous jars and barrels with an eerie flickering glow.
"The cellar?" Stranger asked, raising an eyebrow. Ophelia shook her head.
"Not quite," she said. She handed the torch to Charlotte and searched the waterstained shelves, pushing jars aside with gentle clangs.
"Okay, so," Ophelia began, "I didn't mention this, but we built this temple on the foundation of an older temple, called Tvunkiar in anchient grubbscript. It translates literally into 'Deadly Catacombs', and with good reason."
Ophelia pulled a small red bag from the shelf with a grunt of satisfaction. Shifting more jars aside she revealed more bags, and she handed one to everybody. Charlotte stuck her hand inside the bag and pulled out its contents.
"A chisel and hammer?" She muttered, turning it over on her palm. "What do we do with these?"
"I'll show you." Ophelia said. "Just stop talking and follow me."
She lead them down the narrow path inbetween shelves, her feet making a gentle clap as they hit the cold stone floor. Minutes passed, and they were still walking.
This place is huge! Charlotte thought, awestruck. Just how much food do they need to store down here, anyway?
They eventually came to the cellar's heart; a square several feet across, with a tall limestone pillar at each corner. The square's floor was made of thick stone tiles, and as they passed over it Charlotte thought she heard a creaking noise.
"Here!" Ophelia announced, stamping her foot on the floor. "Help me remove some of these tiles, please."
She knelt down and placed the chisel inbetween two of the tiles. She hit it gently with her hammer, removing the mud that held it together. She wiggled the tile until it loosened and came free, and set it aside.
It took less time than Charlotte thought it would, but they successfully removed a large portion of the tiles. Under the tiles were thick planks of damp wood, turned a musty black from hiding in the dark. Ophelia tapped one of them with her hammer, slowly loosening the wood. It dangled hazardously for a moment, suspended only by the mud frame around it, before breaking free and plummeting into the void below. It tumbled and turned until it was out of sight. They didn't hear it hit the bottom.
"What's that?" Cyren asked, peering inside. All they could see was darkness; the torchlight revealed nothing.
"Those," Ophelia said proudly, "are the anchient catacombs, created by our ancestors."
"Why are they there?" Charlotte asked, putting her hands on her hips. Ophelia shrugged.
"Nobody knows. Some people believe it was created to contain something, something that we could never handle. Others think that our ancestors never made it- that something evil created it, and they built the temple over it to drain its power. Many grubbs say its evil, and sometimes if you're really quiet you can hear voices of grubbs and steef long dead talking down there," she added ominously. Her voice hung in the air, ringing off the shelves before vanishing into the blackness. Mola shuddered.
"I'm not going in there," he declared. Ophelia sighed.
"I wouldin't trust you down there anyway. Thats why Stranger and Charlotte will instead!" She turned to them hopefully. Stranger blinked.
"Are you sure you lost that book down there?" He asked wearily.
"Thats where we dropped it."
"Fine." Charlotte gave in. "We'll go down there." Ophelia beamed.
"Good! You and Stranger just need to go down there. The catacombs aren't as big as they look; if you don't find anything, then it means the water washed it away."
Stranger scratched his head. "Water?" He asked. Ophelia bit her lip.
"I forgot to mention, but a river that leads into the wetlands runs down there. The book could've landed on a plank of wood or a rock down there; its really messy. If not, then just climb back up."
She produced two thick ropes from a nearby shelf; they were long and flexible, perfect for grappling down the sides of caves. She tied them around two of the pillars nearby with an intricate knot, and handed them each an end.
"Cyren will lower one of you down, me and Mola will lower the other. Just tug the line when you hit the bottom, but if something eats you, tug it twice." She beamed. Charlotte could tell by the faint edge to her voice that she was only partially joking.
Charlotte and Stranger tied the roped around their waists, looking anxious. Ophelia lit a lantern with a match and handed it to Stranger, who looped it around his belt. "Be careful," she cautioned.
Charlotte decided to go first. She stared into the inky void, sniffled loudly, and lowered herself down the small shaft, eyes cold.