With a dramatic sigh, I decide to step back through that rusty portcullis, leaving these monks to their eternal rest. After all, who am I to disturb their peace? I'm not just some common grave robber, but a sophisticated adventurer with impeccable manners (most of the time).
Leaving the eerie crypt behind, I find myself at a four-way intersection. The passage to my left seems to lead towards the decaying ruins above, while the other passages remain shrouded in darkness. I can't help but feel a sense of unease as I stand there, a juicy morsel waiting for some shadow lurking in the abyss.
Hardly have I begun to ponder my next move when, out of the darkness, four snarling monstrosities emerge. Giant weasels, I presume, though these are no ordinary beasts. Standing on all fours, they measure around 3 feet long and 2 feet tall at the shoulder, their fur thick and coarse, ranging in color from brown to gray to red, with a distinctively bushy, ringed tail. Their beady eyes gleam with cunning intelligence, and their sharp teeth and claws are well-suited for hunting and defending themselves. I roll my eyes at the sight of these pitiful creatures thinking they stand a chance against me.
With a sigh, I draw my trusty battleaxe, adorned with intricate carvings, and prepare to defend myself. The beasts charge towards me in a frenzy, the air crackling with tension as they close the distance between us, ready to pounce at any moment. My darkvision proves invaluable in this pitch-black passage, allowing me to see every detail of these vile creatures - almost as if nature itself is providing me a spotlight for my grand performance.
The first giant weasel lunges at me, its jaws wide open, but I easily dodge its attack and retaliate with a powerful swing of my battleaxe. The blade connects with the creature's skull, and it drops to the ground, defeated. One down, three to go - this should be over faster than a greased-up cheetah chasing after a gazelle at noon.
The remaining weasels continue their relentless attacks, but they are no match for my superior strength and skill. I dispatch two more of them in quick succession, their bodies falling lifeless at my feet - almost like they're auditioning for the role of 'meat decorations.' But alas, my wounds are severe, and I feel myself starting to succumb to death as my HP reaches zero. Suddenly some mysterious divine healing saves me from the brink of death. An unknown and unnamed dark god has intervened, preventing my untimely demise - perhaps even feeling a bit of pity for my stylishly charming self.
With my strength restored and ready to resume my battle, I prepare to strike out against the last giant weasel. With a mighty swing, I try to cut it in two with my battleaxe - because who wouldn't want to see if these creatures come in two separate pieces? However, my blade slips out of my grasp, leaving me vulnerable. The creature takes advantage of my surprise and strikes back with its teeth and claws with a new level of ferocity not seen before. I am unable to defend myself, and fall before its mighty attack.
"Well, that was unfortunate," I say, as everything turns dark. At least I look good in the shadows - like some sort of anti-hero from an overly dramatic play.