Ukor was moving through the small and tight corridor, smelling the treasure ahead.
Ukor was an adventurer of the platinum rank, the highest possible, having been powerful enough to even pierced armor made of a dead dragon's skin and break it's very teeth, those that were said to be as strong as orichalcum, though he doubted that.
On the request from his guild, the golden ravens, though he never quite liked the name, he had come here to search for the lost statue of a deity only known as the dust collector, whatever that was supposed to mean, a name that seemed to scare his body on an instinctual level.
When he had first been asked to do it he had felt great fear of whatever this dust collector may be intent on doing to him who was only doing his job, terrified of whatever might be hiding in this dark cavern, in this man-made construct that he had never really wanted to enter but had been forced to due to the clauses in his contract.
Had he not entered he would have had to pay five-hundred platinum stars, enough to buy multiple mansions, up to fifty to be exact, at least if one used the money wisely, of course not counting the plumbing, the most important task, and neither the magical work that he thought to be the second most important, only really the husk of the house and the isolation, the third most important in his opinion..
But what did he know?
He grunted loudly as he moved forward, his wolf-like paws occasionally getting stuck in rocky mud, his hair already damp and filled with water, weighing him down and even dripping in some places, though he felt that some of it might also be a bit of sweat from his nervosity, a natural reaction for a lycanthropic patient.
It was annoying, but what could he do?
At least there hadn't been too many monsters in here, only a few dozen zombies and a few hundred skeletons, not that those really counted as monsters, they had just stood there menacingly, basically functioning as automatic shooting rigs, as if the arrow traps he had been triggering with every second steps hadn't already been enough.
The arrows that came out from the holes in the decaying stone walls, grey and muddy in some places, looking weirdly the same and like a devouring illusion once one had been in here long enough, were from shooting mechanisms that had somehow survived the countless years in here, activated by his steps that might be putting too much pressure on the half-destroyed floor, or maybe he was being seen by some magical enchantment.
Either way, he wasn't sure, and neither did he really care.
He kept his head low, feeling water drip on it from time to time, probably old, dirt, having been filtered through countless little cracks in the stone, so much so he almost refused to look up.
Still, he heard something silently growling behind him, just like his own growl, intimidating, terrifying, and he was not a fan of whatever it was, but his body simply refused to turn around, not that that could not be overcome with a bit more dedication from his pa-
He ripped himself away from the unwillingness of his body and turned around, once more seeing absolutely nothing, for a moment thinking about just going back before remembering the price he'd have to pay and turning his body back to normal, also slightly scared of the possibility that the beast, whatever it may be, could be attacking him as soon as he made his way back, if it was even willing to wait that long.
Nonetheless after some more time walking through the seemingly endless corridor he arrived in a room filled with treasure, causing his heart to be filled with joy, though he was careful of touching any of it, knowing full well that each and every one of these coins might very well be cursed to do something unspeakable to him, that the indescribably beautiful paintings and artworks in the brightly lit room might as well be poison, that the only thing he was allowed to touch in here, having taken a dispellment charm with him, two in total, was the statue he was supposed to steal.
Or rather, the statue he was supposed to uncover, not really theft if it belonged to nobody, it just stood there, as tall as his hand, tiny, but glimmering, sending out power that he had never felt ,as if things were all... meaningless, as if all that was meant nothing, as if all would eventually become just like this place, forgotten, forsaken, lost, decaying, dust.
He gulped as he began to step closer, the coins loudly clanging and rattling under his wide feet, ready to sprint away at any time if he had to, begging whatever spell might be on the coins to not affect him through his specially made boots, allowing him to still proceed normally.
...though he did sometimes miss his former body, having been born as a dwarf, he did enjoy the new height that was added onto him, as well as the power and strength he had gained, at least four times his former best and about two-and-a-half times his former height, he was still happy like this, especially since most lycanthropes around were female for some reason.
The statue depicted a kind of demon without horns, simply smooth skin resembling a writhing shadow made of silver and decorated with intricately made gold, holding a sack, big and wide, in one hand, and a duster in the other, made with feathers bigger than before, but intricate as all other, two clunks of what seemed to be coal as the eyes, tiny, but slightly intimidating according to his opinion.
Hesitating slightly, but pressured by the money he'd have to pay, he finally picked it up, with nothing happening in turn, though he had already bene bracing himself for being forced to run away and hide somewhere once this entire place came down on him.
He heard a snarling laugh.
Rushing to turn around he saw...
Himself?
But decaying... the body more of a corpse, large wounds all over, dust falling off of the rigid body, the hair, once majestic and beautiful, falling off in large bits, exposing a small piece of his skeleton, starving, and dangerously close, with strength he felt from a few feet away.
Ukor tried to do something, but before he could, the beast put it's hand onto his forehead, as if it was just trying to pet him, and he began to feel off...
A second later, feeling a mixture of emotions that not even he, himself, understood, but was full of despair, anger, hatred, fear, humour, and so many other things, his entire life flashing through his head, he collapsed.
It hadn't bene glamorous, it hadn't been something he had been prepared for, it had just been, nothing more.
That was it for one of the most powerful people in his world.