A pile of ratty clothes huddled near the Necropolis’ above ground entrance. From time to time it twitched and shivered in such a way that you could imagine the tattered suit was filled with crawling centipedes. Dare to come closer and a disgusting man is revealed to actually be wearing them.
Kenneth Gilroy sat at the steps to the Deep Kingdom he had once ‘ruled’.
He may have lost his way, literally, but he’d managed to return. It had taken him an hour to find the entrance. Had it become more occluded in the time he’d been gone or was his memory simply that fractured? Had a year of torpor really shattered his mind so much?
Having finally found it, even then he couldn’t enter. His keys had been lost somewhere during his imprisonment. He knocked but no answer came. Anyone inside was likely far below ground he knew. So he had turned and crouched down from the exhaustive effort of making his way back here on limited means. Waiting. Hoping.