Kargunt, cloaked in shadow and armed with little more than a dagger and two doses of invisibility, stepped into the forgotten depths of Dark Fort with only twenty silver to his name. Before him stretched a silent entrance hall with two ancient doors.
Choosing the eastern path, he stepped into a round chamber, only to feel the ground shift slightly beneath his feet—a pit trap. With uncanny reflexes, he leapt back just in time, heart racing, and chose the northern door next.
This led to a wide corridor where a strange peddler had made camp amidst the gloom. After some haggling, Kargunt traded most of his coin for two healing potions and a battered but sturdy suit of armor, leaving only a couple of silver in his pouch.
Tempted by the eastward passage, he encountered a riddling soothsayer cloaked in silver smoke. Kargunt listened carefully, solved the riddle with a clever grin, and was rewarded with ten silver. Unfortunately, the way beyond was caved in, so he retraced his steps.
Heading north from the peddler’s hall, he reached a square room—sealed and lifeless. Another pit trap sprung, but again, Kargunt’s instincts saved him from injury. It seemed a cursed hallway of dead ends.
He returned south, past the peddler once more, and then east into a large, rectangular chamber. A third pit trap awaited him, but he avoided it with grace. The only exit led south, and so he pressed on.
The room beyond was plain, dust and stone and silence. Two doors: one west, one south. Kargunt went west, finding a goblin pacing lazily. Activating his cloak, he vanished from sight and ghosted past the creature without a sound.
South again, into a cross-shaped room where a catacomb cultist stood chanting. Once again, invisibility proved the perfect ally; Kargunt passed unseen.
Further south, another riddle awaited him in a square room. He answered it with ease and earned more favor.
He pressed east and found yet another soothsayer. Again, his mind proved keen; again, he was rewarded. But in the next room, a terrible foe awaited—a Medusa. Her eyes shimmered with cursed power, but Kargunt struck first, fast and fierce. Blow after blow he landed, dodging the worst of her wrath. His armor dulled her venomous strikes, and finally, he felled the monster, untouched by her gaze. A nearby chest rewarded him with silver for his courage.
East again, and another soothsayer stood in wait. Riddle answered, favor earned. An empty oval room followed, with doors north and south. Curious, Kargunt chose north, where yet another pit trap tried to claim him—but failed.
Another northern step, and a triangular room opened up, filled with foul breath and growling menace—a ruin basilisk. Their battle shook the walls. The creature’s blows bounced from his armor, while Kargunt’s dagger struck true, again and again. Finally, the monster fell, and though he did not feel stronger right away, fortune smiled soon after.
An herbmaster emerged from the shadows, praising his feats and handing him a bundle of potent healing draughts. Kargunt drank one immediately, steadying his wounds. He then moved eastward, where another soothsayer waited. This time, his wit failed him, and a price was paid in pain. He drank another potion, gritting his teeth.
North again, he met a familiar peddler and traded nearly all his silver for a new sword, a sturdy rope, and two mysterious scrolls that glowed faintly—“Aegis of Sorrow” etched upon each.
He drank again from his potion stash and pushed north into a silent room, then north again where a cultist skulked in the shadows. A brief skirmish left the foe dead and a new scroll in Kargunt’s hands.
Backtracking west, he faced another goblin, this time taking the initiative with his sword. The fight was swift and brutal. He continued westward into another peddler's haunt, but with only a single silver, no deals could be struck.
Still west he went—room after room, emptiness and dust. Then came a medusa. This time, no cloak shielded him, only steel and nerve. The fight was brutal, but Kargunt emerged victorious once more, claiming a small hoard of silver.
Further west, a soothsayer's riddle gave him yet more favor. But fate was not done with him. The next room held a pit he failed to notice—he fell hard, groaning with pain, blood staining the floor.
Bruised, he pressed on into another room and battled a goblin, this time with his sword. Blades clashed, wounds were traded, but Kargunt’s final swing crushed his enemy. The rope on the body was useless; he already had one. He drank deeply from a potion and steadied himself.
The next chamber held a cultist. Steel rang again, and the foe fell swiftly without ever landing a blow.
Turning south, he found another soothsayer—and another failure. Pain wracked his body. Another potion dulled the ache, but only barely.
Further south he walked, into a peddler’s chamber. Two more potions were all he could afford. South again, through another round chamber and a final pit trap—this one failed to claim him.
He arrived in a square room with yet another Medusa. The fight was vicious, but Kargunt, driven by raw determination, cut the creature down before her stare could lock onto his soul. A few silver coins in her chest were his reward.
As strength returned to his limbs, the air around him shimmered. Power surged—he had grown stronger. A vision came: a catacomb cultist and a small stone troll will yield to him without fail from now and forever.
South again, and another soothsayer blocked his path. He failed once more and bled again for it, but the last of his potions restored him.
In the chamber beyond, only silence reigned.
Kargunt stood, breathing heavy, his eyes scanning the dark passage ahead. The depths of Dark Fort still had more to reveal… but the fire in him had only begun to burn.
To be continued...
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