You take a left, plunging into the dark corridor. The darkness is so absolute that the light of your torch barely manages to beat it back. For what seems like hours, you force yourself forward as the hall twists and turns. Slowly, the blackness around you begins to soften -- first to a slightly less oppressive black, then to a sort of blackish-grey, and then more of a greyish-black, and then at last a speck of light appears in the distance. You quicken your wounded gait.

You emerge at last from these damned ruins and are greeted by the midday sun and rolling green pastures. To your right, a grazing wandrex interrupts its lunch just long enough to glance at you and vacate its bowls. Not too far in the other direction, a rocky stream babbles soothingly. Safety at last!

You've escaped the Seat of Kukkuranoth with your life and no small amount of loot. The moneychangers back in Corova should be placated, leaving you just enough left over to start that beeble ranch you'd been dreaming of. All in all, you consider the venture worthwhile. Too bad about Gerrick, really -- he was a decent enough chap. You'll have to have a drink in his honor as soon as you get home.

As you stop to wash your wounds in the stream, you can't help but wish that there had been some sort of fantasy fantasy card here. What was the point of this, really?

You hook a right.

You thought the intersection was dark, but it only seems to deepen with every step you take. Your take some comfort from the orange halo of light cast by your torch. But then, to your weary eyes, the edges seem to fray as if under siege from the gloom. With a shake of your head, it returns to normal... but your nerves don't.

The halls echo with the sound of your boots on cold stone, but you can barely hear that over your own ragged breaths. You wish suddenly, desperately, that you were not alone. Gerrick, greedy bastard he was, was at least good for lightening the mood with one of his off-color jokes or highly embellished anecdotes.

Not as good as he was at acting as bait, you add grimly.

A tiny pinprick appeared in the void ahead... a light? You quicken your pace. Each step brings it closer: the sun, that promise of freedom from this accursed place. Your thoughts turn to what you're going to do once outside, back to the real world -- where you can pawn the jingling stash at your side, what debts to pay off first, and where to start spending the rest...

You're close now. You notice, with a start, that the beacon ahead is flickering. If not the sun, then -- another torch! As desperate as you were for company just a few moments ago, the presence of another person complicated things. No one would dare enter these ruins unless they were chasing wealth... like the wealth you obviously carried. But they may also know of a way out, and you did have a perfectly good knife in your sheath.

There was no sense in running; they knew you were here just as well as you did.

"Who are you?", you call. Your voice carries easily down the ancient halls, thrown from one torch-light to the other across the chasm of blackness.

No answer comes back. You hold your ground, but the other light continues to draw closer.

"Is there an exit back from where you came?", you ask. Still nothing. You can begin to pick out the stranger's form silhouetted in his flickering aura.

You let go of the bag containing your treasure, which slides over your shoulder and strikes the ground loudly. In an instant, the knife takes its place in your hand.

"Don't do anything stupid, pal." Silence. The two of you are only a few yards away now, and you squint against the flames to make out the other adventurer.

"Gerrick?", you exclaim, letting out your held breath with a chuckle, "By the Maker, man, why didn't you say anything?"

When you saw him last, blood was gushing from a half-dozen arrow wounds, courtesy of the trap he had so foolishly triggered. Now he no longer bled, but those same wounds were still visible.

Your voice continued to trail out, almost without your consent, but it grew weaker by the word, "How'd you even get here? There's no way you could've made it here without me. You were a goner. You--"

He was but a few feet away now, the spheres cast by your torches casting misshapen shadows where they overlapped.

Gerrick's eyes were empty, but his hand was not. Before you can react -- before anyone with mere human reflexes could react -- his sword was through your ribs and your journey was over.

---

Dead End Trap

Instant -- Trap (U)
If a spell or ability an opponent controls caused them to sacrifice a creature this turn, you may pay rather than pay Dead End Trap’s mana cost.
Return target creature card from your graveyard to the battlefield.
Fada chose to carry more treasure instead of her fallen comrade. She left the ruins with neither.

W-what? Why would you do that? That's dumb.

You trip on the bloody footprint you left behind you and crack your head open on the stone floor. You die instantly but painfully, and then a rat comes and pees all over your treasure.

Firefight, n.
A fight that takes place in front of fire