: Arrow traps were rigged to fire at the slightest movement, capable of taking off a man's head in the blink of an eye. Trust no one : Not even the merchants.
Guy's boots were soaked. He was bleeding from a graze on his arm where a giant spider had lunged at him. His supplies were dwindling. He was down to one bomb and a single rope. Then, he heard it. A soft whimpering. : Arrow traps were rigged to fire at
Guy wiped sweat from his brow and uncoiled his leather whip. He only had four bombs and four lengths of rope left in his pack. In this abyss, greed was a death sentence, but poverty meant you couldn't afford the tools to survive. 🐍 The cost of greed He was bleeding from a graze on his
The air grew thick and humid. The dry stone of the mines gave way to slick mud, giant Venus flytraps, and aggressive tiki tribesmen. He had made it to the Jungle. Then, he heard it
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" a voice boomed from the ruins.