“The elemental plane of frost,” Felix answers, giving Naugus a quick grin despite the circumstances. The danger of their situation and the risks they’ve taken only make it feel better to pull off a summoning of significance. And that’s beyond how good it always feels to work his magic, to feel the might of an ancient mind answer his command.

“Agreed. I’ll be ready,” he agrees about the shadows. Disconcerting as they are, they’re easily preferable to waiting around here. Is that distant shouting echoing down the stairwell? He can’t tell over the muffled whimpers from Naugus’ downtrodden foes, the pounding of glacial feet on stone.

The great elemental crashes though the doors, scattering splinters around it. Instantly it’s silhouetted in a flood of brilliant light from beyond. Felix urges it in ahead, but no more wards are triggered; he follows cautiously with his sword flickering in his hand.

The circular chamber beyond is lined with stands for magical lights; others hang from the high ceiling, all burning brilliant white. Even the floor is circled with crystalline lanterns. The shadows have been banished entirely from this room. The only hint of shade lies rather forlornly on a low stone pedestal in the center. From the door it just looks like a scrap of grey cloth, pale and washed-out in the unrelenting light.