When it became clear that on this expedition team members would obviously not pinch off a normal piece of prey for newcomer, it was depressing. It became even worse when passage structures collapsed, dividing with impassable rubble from the rest of participants. "Well, now everyone's share has increased?" - a voice came from behind rubble. Damn halfling, if the situation weren't like this, boot would be sticking out of his one place!

There are probably no other passages nearby, and there's no point in hoping that they will clear the rubble and not go looking for someone else. It's better to look for a way out on your own and leave the leaky tunnel while horror of isolation is not yet felt. Despite the situation, it is impossible not to admire achievements of the past. Architects did their best to ensure that stone surroundings did not hang overhead. Bluish cold lighting is still functional for most part, resembling a bioluminescent mushroom concentrate. At first it seems that work is gnomish, but they are characterized by greater cumbersomeness, and their air is dry and hot from the heat of the lava.

It's difficult to say: is instinct, heightened in silence, leading or is brain simply demanding to do something? It took some time to open sealed, bulky door to far wing. It seemed different from general style, as if it had been abandoned earlier than others. Soon the reason became clear - this is nothing more than a burial. Giving up so much space for someone: it must have been a really important royal figure.

A little further forward and behind next door there is something like a private chamber. Touched by time, but very elegant decoration made of expensive materials, silverware covered with centuries-old dust. On a large bed there are long-mummified remains, apparently female, judging by clothes and hair.

Barely approaching deceased, there was a rustle of something heavy behind. Golem, which seemed to be a pretentious statue before, began to move closer. Damn it! They must not move without-...

Need to act quickly. Noticing control rod in corpse's grip, hand pulls it out and points it at golem, but it cannot be activated - tip falls into pieces, flat round part jingles cheerfully, bouncing on the floor.

"No need. It broke centuries ago, human."

A purring chuckle slips into the lifeless voice. Segmented metal parts of face moved one after another in a single rhythm: creature stretched corner of it's lips in a grin. Tall and strong, but relatively graceful for a bulky golem, figure stopped a couple of steps away, instilling a sense of threat. They... they shouldn't move without orders. It doesn't happen that way!

"If Lady Galatea were still alive and beautiful, she would have ordered me to snap your jaw for such insolence towards her."

Man turns to mummy, silently resting in her place. Apparently, she is - Galatea. At least a skeleton in tatters once was her.

"But you're lucky. Wand is no more exist, and she hasn't voiced any dissatisfaction with its conditions in the last five centuries, mfsh~."