Kalith was not happy.

"Go and find The Lost Tombs of the Ever Swamps. Plenty of treasure to be had there. It'll be good to start your career with a lesser known dungeon. If you can prove yourself there you can join your brothers and sister on the more difficult hunts."

Ewen, his father had been one of the greatest Hero's on all of the Questworld in his day. There didn't seem to be a dungeon he hadn't looted or a battle he hadn't been involved in, in his sixty years. Now the gauntlet had been laid down for his children to go and get butchered to carry on the family name.

On a world riddled with dungeons that magically altered ever year, where wars broke out purely because there wasn't much better to do or because a new race of monsters had randomely appeared somewhere and threatened something or someone the choice wasn't so much as to whether you became a hero but how well you did it. This was measured in glory. Fame, and most importantly life expectancy. Kal was beginning to think that for him the latter of these was particularly short.

All his father had done was stab the blade of his dagger into the map of the local area and picked a random place. This meant that the "Lost Tombs" wheren't so much lost but hadn't been found yet. If they had they where crawling with things with big teeth and claws so nobody had made it back to prove their existance.

The other problem with the Questworld was that if you gave something a name it popped into existance. So if the Tombs hadn't been there originally they certainly where now.

Kal had been wandering around the swamp for nearly a week. He was tired, smelly and covered in stale blood and he hadn't even found his quarry yet. Having just shoved his axe into another band of roving Marsh Goblins he'd decided to "borrow" their camp.

He removed one of his boots and started picking the leeches off the base of his foot with the flat of a dagger. He chuckled glumly.

"Well at least someone's eating properly."

His stomach rumbled, he'd run out of supplies two days ago after accidentally feeding his backpack to a rather large Swamp Rat. It had been the better choice between that and his arm.

Night was falling fast and he was wondering what to do next. Lighting a fire would have been one idea but things where attracted to light and there where bigger things to worry about out here than the odd goblin or overgrown vermin. If he slept in the dark there was an equally good chance that he wouldn't wake up again. Or he could just rest a little and press on hoping to find the tomb before something found him.

Whatever he did he'd have to remove the slimy sucky things from between his toes first as he was beginning to feel faint.

The End

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