Fiction- The Deep Dark.
I write this from a place that even my darkest nightmares could not have fathomed. A place of the deadliest horrors. A place of shadow. A place of death. We came here, my three companions and I, in search of power and wealth, as many adventures have before us. We have seen the fate of those that came before. It was a grisly one indeed. This place not only harbours its own breed of terror but those that it lures with its promises. Thugs and bandits come in search of gold and trinkets, unaware of the dangers that hide in the shadows. The Pigmen come in search of the arcane power that thrives here, a power all too familiar to them. Ghouls come in search of the fresh meat that is often produced here. I can hear them now. The squeals. The snarls. The sound of blade on blade. This place never quiets, its corridors, and cavernous rooms stretch for miles beneath the earth.
We take rest in a room that we have deemed safe for a moment. A heavy wooden door, loose on its hinges, bars the way. It would not hold long should anything notice our presence, but it is the only respite that is offered here. A roaring fire brings warmth to this damp and cold place. Our shadows dance on walls as we feast on the scraps that pass as our rations. We four adventures have already faced the greatest battle of our lives and only three days have passed. We are not lost down here, but we are deep.
We banded in a tavern after hearing tales of this place. An old man with one eye and scars down one side of his face. “It was not man. Not pig. Not even ghoul. But something far, far worse.” He had told us of the fight that caused his wounds, his voice almost a whisper. He wore fine cloth and gripped a gold topped cane, a rarity in the place that we were. He revealed to us a strange medallion that hung around his neck. The runes on the thing were unfamiliar to me and, disturbingly, emanated a sickly green glow. He told us of its worth, and more importantly, its origin. He called this place the Deep Dark. He told us of the many items that he had procured here, and the many that he had to leave behind.
I came with Mercenary, Hound master and Rogue. I, myself, am an Arcanist. Between us, we bring a wealth of experience and skill. But nothing could have prepared us. We have fought thug, Pigman and ghoul. They were no match for our skilled blade, shield and gun. Their blood still reddens our garb. But it was not all for nought. We have found things that deny all that we have ever known. We have found blade that cleaves armour as if air. We have found shield that does not recoil when struck. We have found pistol that need not reload nor ignite. We have found tome that contains knowledge far beyond any comprehension. All this, we know, will procure wealth to never need adventure again. But, it is all this that makes us crave more. We will delve deeper and deeper until we can no more.
As always, thank you for reading!