The tavern was dimly lit, with torches on the walls flickering sporadically. The working-class patrons laughed and drank, oblivious to the eerie atmosphere. The only person paying attention to his surroundings was the young man in armor, regaling the bartender with a tale of slaying a dragon.
But as the night wore on, the jovial mood began to shift. The patrons grew restless, sensing an unexplainable tension in the air. The adventurer, lost in his own world, failed to notice as people started to leave in a hurry, leaving money on the tables and scurrying home.
"The town gets dangerous at night," the barkeep warned, gesturing for the adventurer to finish his drink and leave. Reluctantly, the young man downed the last of his ale and headed outside.
The cold air was thick with fog, making it almost impossible to see. The adventurer squinted, struggling to make out his surroundings. Suddenly, a figure appeared in the mist, causing him to quicken his pace. But as he drew closer, the figure vanished, leaving him disoriented and on edge.
He continued to walk, his unease growing with every step. It felt as if something was watching him from the shadows, waiting to pounce. The flickering torches cast sinister shadows on the buildings around him, and he felt a chill run down his spine.
As he stumbled through the fog, he heard the faint sound of whispers, but when he turned to look, there was no one there. He quickened his pace, feeling as if he was being hunted. He stood there for a moment, heart racing, before realizing he was alone in the darkness. The adventurer took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves, and continued on his way. But the feeling of being followed never left him, and he couldn't shake the sense that something sinister lurked in the shadows. Behind him walked a shadowy figured, shrouded in an eerie red glow. The figure raised something toward the back of the adventurer also shrouded in this red glow.
Suddenly, he heard a sound behind him and spun around, sword drawn. But there was no one there. "Shit," he whispered to himself quickly sobering up. He reached the edge of the town, and the fog slowly dissipated. With a quick sigh of relief, the man still hurried further on into the forest. The trees grew densely next to each other, stopping any sun or moonlight from hitting most of the ground. Only with on occasional opening could the ground be seen.
The adventurer sat down on a tree stump and pulled out his backpack. Reaching in he pulled out a torch and sat it down on his lap. Rummaging through the pack the sounds of the forest got quieter. The leaves stopped rustling, crickets stopped chirping, and it got silent.
"Where is it?" slightly aggravated the man kept going through his bag, then the sound of a sword swinging against a tree echoed through the forest. He pulled out his tinderbox but dropped his bag. Quickly he lit his torch, the light flickering as the wind picked up again. The light from the torch only allowing for a small area around him for be seen.
With a sword in one hand and the torch in another he continued to walk. The sounds of the forest suddenly came back. Another sound of a sword against a tree could be heard, closer this time. The sound of a sword being dragged in the dirt following behind him started. With a quick turn around him, the man saw nothing once again.
"You know I'm a world class knight right?" the man said out into the depths of the forest. Nothing could be heard back except for the crickets and the leaves. Keeping himself vigilant he furthered himself in the forest. It was getting thicker as he got further in. Then suddenly fog filled the forest. It got cold, the hair on the back of his neck stuck up.
The sounds of swords clashing spread throughout the forest. At this point he began to run, breathing heavily and panicked. Arriving at the camp his friends and he had set up. The fire was roaring but his friends weren't there. There bags were on the ground and so were their weapons.
"Guys, you cannot leave your weapons on the ground like this," he said chuckling nervously. He walked over to one of the tents and put his hand out, quickly he swung the flap of the tent open. It was empty. He sighed and turned back toward the fire. He scratched the back of his head and looked around for a moment. Then without warning the fog went away once again. When the fog went away he saw a tree, and something was dripping, his eyes slowly panned up.
Hanging from the tree by their feet was a young woman. A sword lodged into her chest and blood dripped onto the ground below her. His pupils shrunk and he dropped his torch. He turned to look at the other trees around his camp, three others were hung up in the same way. Each seemed to be killed in different ways.
"I will avenge you guys," tears flooded the mans eyes, his grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, "Come out motherfucker!"
The fog came back again, this time with a red tint to it. The sound of a sword dragging against the dirt filled the area once again. This time it was in front of him. The adventured back himself against the tree and held his sword strong with both hands. The sound continued to get closer and closer until eventually it stopped. With a moment of relaxation, an arm reached out behind the tree and put it's hand over his mouth. A sword went through the tree and through the mans stomach. Blood pouring out onto the ground with the muffled screams of the man. The light completely fled from his. The sword pulled out and the body fell to the ground like a ragdoll.