The cold stone gurgles, giggles, screams as you climb it. Polythreme's monuments were always homes for secrets, but today is not your day. Too much attention. You pace away, to warmth and human voices.
Up, above the fog. A slim shelf on a pagoda's roof. Dim lights in the roof strain to illuminate your secrets. These are encoded. A tricky cipher, but will it hold? Later. For the moment, you slip back into the miasma like a zubmarine.
