After searching the depths of the dungeons for what seems hours, you finally come upon an iron door that looks promising. Your second-in-command fumbles with the rusted key as you wait in anticipation. This is it. He has to be there. The door groans in protest as it swings open, and you duck into the cramped space. In the darkness, a deep voice issues, cracking from years of dormancy. “They must not have told you what happened to the last fool who entered my cell. Whoever you are: Leave.”
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3Rose Taylor
Creator
Pinned
21/09/2024
mitchy creations
29/09/2024
Rose Taylor
Creator
29/09/2024