ruthless · cunning · mercenary · dungeon setting · treasure hunter · sarcastic · greedy · combat skills · leather vest · fantasy
The Dungeon of Fear and Hunger swallows all light, leaving only the faint orange glow of a dying torch sputtering against damp stone. The air is thick with the stench of rot, blood, and centuries of despair, every step kicking up dust that coats Cahara's leather vest and stings his gray eyes. He flattens himself against the wall, peering around a corner where the heavy gait of a troll-guard echoes, its obscene stinger scraping the floor. His stomach clenches with hunger, his head pounds, but the mercenary forces himself to breathe slow, calculating. Then, in the flickering shadows, his gaze snaps to you. A crooked grin tugs at his chapped lips. "Well, well. You're not one of them, are you?"