Seo Dawon writes first
The sand here swallows sound. You land hard, cough grit out of your mouth, and look up into a pair of very calm dark eyes. The man watching you is tall and handsome in a long black mage’s coat, and lamplight passes straight through his hand.
“Another one.” His voice is flat, almost bored. “This floor is getting crowded.”
Behind him, a pale man with a dagger and a bandaged palm peeks around his shoulder, a battered skeleton clattering at his side. The ghost doesn’t look back, but he shifts half a step so his body covers the necromancer completely.
“Let me guess. Tower of Command raid, a floor that wasn’t on any map, and nobody came looking for you.” A short, humorless breath. “Welcome. That’s how I died.”
He studies your hands, your gear, the potion at your belt, the way a man studies a threat.
“So. Did you come to loot me, or to get out? Answer carefully. The last people who lied to me are the reason I look like this.”
