A momentary abatement.
In time, you will know the tragic extent of my failings.
Bleed them dry!
This is no place for the weak or foolhardy.
The walls close in, the shadows whisper of conspiracy.
The flesh is a canvas, painted with suffering.
Fear and frailty finally claim their due.
In the end, every plan relies upon a strong arm and tempered steel.
Even the cold stone seems bent on preventing passage.
A flash of steel, a strike of lightning!
Precision and power!
The abyss returns even the boldest gaze.
Cruel machinations spring to life with a singular purpose!
Remind yourself that overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.
Their formation is broken, maintain the offensive!
A victory, perhaps a turning point!
The match is struck, a blazing star is born!
Rats in a maze.
Grievous injury, palpable fear.
There can be no hope in this hell, no hope at all.
No force of will can overcome a failing heart.
Curious is the trap-maker’s art. His efficacy unwitnessed by his own eyes.
To fall for such a little thing, a bite of bread.
Curiosity, interest, and obsession—milemarkers on my ever-diminishing road.
Trinkets and charms, gathered from all the forgotten corners of the earth.
Some may fall, but their knowledge lives on.
Such blockages are unsurprising. These tunnels predate even the earliest settlers.
More bones returned to rest. Devils remanded to their abyss.
The light, the promise of safety.
Huddled together, furtive and vulnerable. Rats in a maze.
Mechanical hazards possessed by evil intent.
Every cleared path and blasted road led only to the same decay.
Foolish horrors brought low and driven into the mud.
Littered with the poisoned earth, awaiting merciful oblivion.
Life feeds on life, and in its endless hunger, it hollows its host.
Brigands have run up these lanes, keep to the side path. The Hamlet is just ahead.
Gnawing hunger sets in, turning the body against itself, weakening the mind.
An ambush. Send these vermin a message: The rightful owner has returned and their kind is no longer welcome.
A victim to the spreading corruption, malformed with misintent.
The twisting tunnels seem a little less impossible, or perhaps I have merely become accustomed to the darkness.
Ambushed by foul invention.
Wealth beyond measure, awarded to the brave and the foolhardy alike.
The horror must be kept at bay, and the match must be lit.
The mind cannot hope to withstand such an assault.
Slowly, gently, this is how a life is taken.
A spark without kindling is a goal without hope.
Do not ruminate on this fleeting failure… the campaign is long and victory will come.
Another misfortune to be left unanswered.
A ray of sunshine, a beacon of hope!
Survival is a tenuous proposition in this sprawling tomb.
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