The Center Path.

You read and reread the lines over and over again trying to make sense of which would be the best path to pick, and being honest with yourself you think they all are terrible. You had only came in here for shelter from a night in the wilds, not a dugeon crawl, so you decide to do what you came here for. You grab the most comfortable corner of the chamber and curl up in a ball in it, getting some much needed rest. Your night is restless, even the most comfortable corner is hard on your body, leaving you sore when you finally awake. You stand up and do several stretches trying to loosen up from your poor bedding, you body pops and some relief washes over you as your body recovers.

Once you have limbered up, your mind go back to your current predicament, three paths each equally as dangerous sounding as the last, but you must pick one. You are not sure how to decide on which sounds the safest, but one does grab your attention rather strongly. The promise of power allures almost everyone who encounter it, with power so great you could maybe go home, or at least survive until rescuse came, of course this was if writings scratched on a wall long ago were correct. With a long sigh you start down the center path toward what you hope is the first steps toward going home.

Just like with the entrance, the moment you pass through the gateway, a door begins to slide down and close. This time you do not panic or react, there was no way out by going back anyways, forward was all you had left. Also much like the entrance, the halls were lit and lined by torches lighting your way forward, however much unlike the entrance this path started to angle up. You moved with as much speed as you could muster, very much ready to leave your solemn shelter and once again see the outside. Upwards and upwards the path climbed, seemingly to no end, there were no turns or corners just up. Your mind desperately grasped this as a sign of hope, maybe you would soon break free into the outside and back on your path of finding a way home.

That hope diminished as time passed, you had no real way of keeping count of it as it slipped by. It felt like days, or at least hours as you climbed ever higher, maybe there was no possible way for you to reach the end, maybe you had chosen **** on an endless path. That thought injected fear in your heart as you picked up the pace even more, unwilling to give up. Soon the slope upward was hard to climb, it was at such an upward angle your feet often threatened to slide down, how far up were you? You did not get to explore that thought as the slope began to level out, with some hope renewed you rushed forward with all your ability. More and more the slope flatened out as you pushed onward, soon you were running on level ground, sweating and tired you reached the end of the path, a giant stone door.