The temple is familiar in a subtle way. Atlanteans are no strangers to old architecture or dilapidated sacred grounds. The swamp didn't prove to be any real hardship for the trio of Atlanteans, between their ease in the water and the fact that they have more than enough ways to defend against giant mosquitoes and sentient vines.

In the temple, Arthur wanted them to stick together as much as possible, and he's been wary of touching anything - old magical relics often times aren't the most obvious, and he isn't sure he would trust the effects in this place mired in corruption.

He frowns slightly as they start to come upon some crates and chests, though, buried or overgrown or covered in debris. "What do you think might be in all these?"