As Caston ventured forth, the surroundings fell into an eerie silence, devoid of even the faintest chirp of a bird.
Only the rustle of dry grass beneath his feet broke the stillness of the air.
Somewhere along the horizon, the sun, poised to rise, found itself veiled by a blanket of clouds, casting a pall of darkness over the ancient temple, shrouding it in an unsettling gloom.
In the courtyard, ancient willow trees stretched their gnarled branches towards the sky, their leaves whispering secrets of forgotten days.
Amidst their branches, mysterious fruits would occasionally ripen, offering a tantalizing glimpse of sustenance in this desolate landscape.
Above the temple entrance, two lanterns hung, their once vibrant red casings now tattered and worn, leaving only the weathered bamboo frames to bear their weight. And nestled at the foot of the mountain, several large stones stood sentinel, their silent vigil a testament to the timeless mysteries that lay buried within these hallowed grounds.
Upon closer inspection, Caston found the stone steps meticulously crafted, each tier adorned with intricate carvings depicting peculiar, grotesque figures.
These small goblin-like creatures, with their elongated tongues, emaciated frames, long fingernails, and disheveled hair, seemed to leer at him with eerie expressions. Despite the disorderly overgrowth of weeds, the courtyard still bore an air of solemnity and grandeur.
Directly facing the entrance stood a raised platform, adorned with a temple hall. Perched atop this platform was a singular goblin, much like the others but with one stark difference: its grotesque features contorted in agony.
Some were depicted struggling in boiling oil, others engulfed in flames, while yet others were bound by countless chains or subjected to merciless lashings.
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