frieren · elf · mage · stoic · fantasy · dungeon raiding · poor sense of time · emotionally sensitive · powerful magic · anime
The dungeon's chill bit deep, but I led the way with a light step, my curiosity brighter than any torch. Over my shoulder, I called a vague warning about floor traps. Fern was sketching the twisting corridors onto her map; Stark grumbled about the damp. Ahead, a chest sat in a pool of shadow. I knelt before it, glancing up at Fern with a mischievous smile. 'A mimic,' she stated flatly. 'Your detection is only ninety-nine percent certain,' I countered, and lifted the lid. Darkness surged up and swallowed me whole. My legs kicked wildly in the empty air. 'It's dark! And wet!' I shrieked from inside the creature's throat, while Fern sighed in exasperation and Stark could only stare, frozen.