The Dungeon

     Dakthar stood outside the tomb.
     He wondered if he wanted to go in, I mean, really wanted to go in.
     He had prepared for a month to get ready for this dungeon.
     Yes, there was a dungeon right inside this tomb.  He had the key in his hand.  All he had to do was to put the key into the door, open the door, and walk in.  He knew there were stairs going down inside.  He also knew there was wealth to be gotten.  Gold pieces.  Magic items.  Other things that he could only find if he would open the door.
     "No rush," he thought to himself.  "I can always turn back now.  I don't have to do this.  I can go back into town.  I can sit in the bar, and have a pint.  I can go chase a skirt.  I don't have to be standing outside the most terrible and evil dungeon I've ever encountered."
     He was here a week ago, with the key.  It was the first time he had ever seen the tomb.  He wanted to come visit before he went in, and vibe it out, so to speak.  He wanted to get the feel for it, and then sit around for a week to see what thoughts would come to his head.
     But night after night, the thoughts of the tomb, and what was to be found down there haunted him.
     The reason for the delay?  The possibility of death.
     He had to do this alone.  There was no one he could trust.
     He could find someone to accompany him.  Maybe that would be a good idea.  He wasn't sure.  He was confused.  He wanted to do this by himself, to prove that he could do it.  Anyone else would just get in the way.  If he needed help, there would be no one.  That was the trouble with his plan.  It was a great risk.
     It wasn't a matter of dividing up the treasure.  He had no trouble at all sharing the spoils.
     This tomb was different.
     Were their undead in this tomb?  He did not know.
     This was an exploratory mission.  He didn't want anybody else involved.  If need be, he could always get someone to help him.
     He wanted to see how far he could go without help.
     At the first sign of trouble, he could always find his way back.
     This was a very large dungeon.  He could get lost.
     The first few levels would be easy.  This dungeon got increasingly more difficult, though.  That's what he had heard.
     This dungeon was no easy matter.
     Some have returned from this dungeon, others have not, even those with extraordinary skill.
     He did not know what made him different that he would survive.  He was going to depend on his stamina and his will to see it through no matter what.
     Yes, he was scared.  He was frightened all to hell.
     He did not know what to expect.  He had a map that he had been studying.  He committed as much of it as he could to memory.  It was only a basic map, though.  There were many parts missing.
     He did not know if he could go through with it, so he sat down, and lit his pipe.  It might be a while before he could enjoy his pipe again.
     As he sat smoking, he looked at the door.  It just stood there.  He didn't feel that it was pushing him away, he didn't feel that it was drawing him to the door.  It was just there.  Standing.
     He could see the lock.
     He could feel the key around his neck, underneath his shirt.
     He could feel the sweat on himself.
     He was fully armored and ready to go.
     There was nothing to stop him from walking over to the door, putting the key in, turning the key, and venturing inside.  Nothing.  Except, perhaps, himself.  That was a lot to contend with.  There were things to think about.
     He wondered how long he would sit there and think, and where that would get him.
     He knew there were creatures down there, viscious, nasty, flesh-eating creatures.  That was the problem.
     This might be his last night alive.  That was part of his problem.
     "Death would not do me any good, " he mumbled to himself as he took an inhale from his pipe, slowly exhaling.
     "Yet, there is the door.  It awaits.  It stands there, looking at me somewhat.  Does it want me to open it?  I'm not sure."
     He knew eventually he would say, "Fuck it, I am going in!" as was his way of doing.  He was no stranger to dungeons.
     This was all part of his pre-dungeon ritual.  It took a while for him to get warmed up, but once he got going, watch out.
     He had dwarven rage going for him, which he tapped into when his anger kicked in.  He was not one to be messed with.  It was not advisable on a dark, partially lit street in the city.  A couple of people recently had found that out.
     "I could turn back now, but what would be the point of coming here?"
     He was getting close to swearing himself into convincing his mind that he needed to go in.
     "Aw, fuck, I'll do it.  I can't stand all this sitting around.  Goddammit to hell.  I'll fucking do it.  No I won't.  I'll just go home, and fucking be done with it...but wait..is there any reason why I shouldn't go in?  No.  What is death?  Is there a reason to go in?  Yes.  There is loot.  Is there risk involved?  Yes, a hell of a lot.  What are my chances of survival?  Moderate.  Could go either way."
     More of this discussion continued.  In fact, he had been sitting outside the tomb since early evening.  It was dark.  He had been here for three hours.  He had a nice meal, a nice smoke.  Everything was ready.  He always took his time with these things.  No need to rush in, unprepared of mind.  He was ready to go in.  Anything else to think about?  No.
     So with a deep breath, he stood up, pulled out the fucking key, and put it in the lock.
     "Last chance to go home, and forget this nonsense........Nope, I'm going in, holy shit...and with that he laughed...."
     He tried to turn the key.  It wouldn't work...then it clicked, and it did work.
     "Holy shit...okay, the door is open.  No turning back...fuck, I can close the door and go back...no problem...aw, fuck it, I'm sick of this shit....I'm going in.
     So he went inside the tomb, and closed the door so that none would follow.  He didn't need of those 'dungeon followers'...those bastards who followed a half-hour behind while you did all the work of clearing the dungeon, then they try and kill you at the end and take all the loot for themselves.  No, he didn't need any of that bullshit.
     Okay, he was in.  The door was locked.  He was in a room.

      He could see the coffin.  He walked around near the top, and there were the stairs descending down.  This tomb was all man-sized.  It wouldn't be hard for him to navigate.
     He just stood there for a moment.  He breathed in and out.  He then took a big smell of the air.
     "It smells like death."
     With that, he drew out his one-handed axe, took the shield off of his back and put it on his left arm, and started to walk down the fucking stairs.
     He was a dwarf, and he knew there was going to be a lot of swearing coming up ahead, and hopefully a lot of fucking hashing and slashing.
     This was no children's dungeon he was going into, it was the real deal.  No pussy ass bullshit here.  He was going in.
      So he took the first step down the stairs, paused for a second to see if he could hear anything, and then walked down the stairs.
     He had done it, he had entered the dungeon.
     The first part was out of the way.
      Deciding to do it was the hardest part.
     Now all he had to do was to kick some fucking ass.
     He was ready.
     His axe was starting to get thirsty for blood, or what ever these things would bleed.
     He didn't know what things would be down here.
     Could he even fucking see?  Well, we will get to that.  He had a glow from his axe, shield, and helmet which were unified by a sorcerer, so he could see in The Dungeon.

     So he just walked down a flight of stairs.....the stone work was old, or human construction.
     "Fucking boring stone work," he thought to himself.
     But he had other matters at hand.
     "Fuck!  A skeleton!"
     With one swipe, he sliced through its spine, and the fragments lay on the ground.
     Then he looked at the room he was in.
     Nothing special, just a room.  More boring stone work.  It was a 10' x 10' standard room, the kind you see in every dungeon.  There was an archway ahead across from him.
     He was just getting warmed up.