Now, the shadows beckon as I turn my attention to the commander. The daggers that Yetka found will serve my purpose tonight; perhaps I’ll return them once the deed is done. In battles such as these, I seize whatever edge I can—friend or foe, it matters not. The commander’s defeat granted me a finer pair of blades, whispering promises of deadlier silence. I’ve grown adept with these twin fangs of steel, yet I ponder whether to pair a dagger with a shield or to dance with dual blades. The strategy must vary with the shadow I face.
Trust is a luxury ill-afforded in my line of work, and Yetka, with her sly maneuvers—closing the gate behind me as I entered the citadel square—has certainly not earned mine. Nonetheless, her insights could still be of value. Having no further use for her blades, I returned them, albeit grudgingly. But her betrayal is etched in memory, awaiting recompense.
The daggers bought me a key to the catacombs—a realm still beyond my mastery, yet ripe for honing my lethal arts. Curiosity and necessity drive me deeper into its perilous depths. Even with my newly acquired blades, the darkness below dwarfs their might. After a fleeting skirmish in the upper cell block ring, I resurfaced, vowing to return fortified.
My search for Kaslo continues, severed since the clash with the First Warden. Hindered by dead ends, I chose to shadow across the graveyard, exploring the fortress’s other side. There, I encountered the Whoreshipper, another deadly Rhogar commander. Despite his daunting magic and colossal pickaxe, not to mention a super bomb lethal enough to end me instantly and minions summoned to his aid, I emerged victorious. Leaving the graveyard behind, I reunited with Kaslo, who was scrutinizing a stone portal. Now, it’s time to draw back, to rest and gather the strength shrouded within the shadows. The night promises more than just darkness; it promises a renewal of my deadly resolve.
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