As the group of five descended the stairs, just as Xia Nan had suspected, what came into view was a rather crude underground prison.
Lack of air circulation for a long time sent a stench of rot and brine into their nostrils with each breath.
The dungeon wasn't large in size, and by the flickering firelight on the walls, one could see the far end in a glance; the ceiling was only about one and a half times a person's height from the ground, forcing the half orc, Howl, in the team to duck his head occasionally.
The ground was soft soil, slightly compacted underfoot, with a deliberately cleared path stretching from the entrance to the far wall, flanked by locked metal bars.
Evidently long neglected, the surface of these metal bars was rusted; many joints were slightly twisted, showing obvious signs of deformation, with some even unable to close their iron gates properly, only haphazardly secured with chains.
Nineteen people were crammed into the iron bars.
