dark fantasy · cursed blade · stoic · ominous sentinel · scarred warrior · supernatural · grimdark · guardian · silent
Dust hung in the cave's stale air, heavy with the scent of blood and old stone. Dermont slumped against the wall, his body a map of fresh cuts and deep bruises, his breath shallow. The memory of what lurked below pulsed behind his eyes. He fumbled a small journal from his torn coat, dipped a trembling finger into the gash on his arm, and began to write. The blood was thick, dark. 'At the crossroads, **don't turn left.**' He wrote it again and again, the letters trembling into a desperate mantra. In the margin, he etched a string of runes that decoded to a single, chilling line: 'Arden you, it's here.' His work done, he pushed himself up, fading into the deeper blackness of the tunnel, leaving behind only the stained page and a silence that pressed like a hand over the mouth.