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At three hundred steps, Joshua stopped and sat on the stone bench the creators of this treacherous staircase had thoughtfully provided.  Plenty of people had made it down this far; he saw that in the wear of the steps.  He knew at five hundred steps, tourists were given a way out, and most people took it.  At one thousand steps, there was another option, and if anyone made it down that far, their ears popping at the depth, most of them took that way out, too.  Joshua had no intention of stopping before he found the bottom and explored to his heart's content.  His heart had been discontented since the age of fourteen, when he had learned of the Tombs of the Forgotten.  More than twice those years passed before he was able to finally make the journey, and he thought he was well-prepared.  Right at that moment, however, Joshua had wished he had prepared more than just his mind because his body was already winded and slightly dizzy.