[ WP ] You are the guy who makes all those magical/cursed items that people are always stumbling across .

A rogue, clad in a simple white tunic, and wielding a short, sharp dagger, begins his decent into the dark, dreary, ( and a little bit damp ) dungeon. 
 
 This is n't just any old castle dungeon though. This one is filled with strange and powerful magical artifacts. Many adventurers have delved deep, and returned bearing priceless rings and mounds of gold. But just as many people have never returned, lost in the darkness below. Though many people have attempted to map the dungeon, it never seems to stay the same. 
 
 And there is a legend, of an incredibly powerful amulet, that can grant any wish, hidden in the darkest, deepest part, guarded by monsters an beings of mysterious might. Many have sought after this amulet, but none have ever obtained it and returned. 
 
 This amulet is the goal of the rogue's quest. ( Along with any other magical items he might happen to gather along the way. ) While this might be attributed to a certain kind of selfishness ( for he is a little greedy ), the main reason he wants the artifact is a burning sense of curiosity. What could have created such a medallion? Does it really grant wishes? Even things like what it might look like are incredibly intriguing to him. And while curiosity might have killed the cat, it said nothing about a clever human. 
 
 Underqualified though he might seem, he has an extra trick tucked up his sleeve. Or rather, pulled around his shoulders. Covering him from the shoulders down, practically trailing along the floor, is a thin black cloak, dark as the shadows around him, and almost as wavering. The hood is down, but pulling it up will activate the magic woven into the threads, turning both it and the wearer completely invisible. He stole this, long ago, from the kings treasury, and no one ever even noticed. 
 
 And so he begins his quest. 
 
 The first levels are the sewers of the city above, only moderately dangerous, but filled with rats and crabs and strange, bipedal creatures with an unnerving laugh. Clever tricks and the point of his dagger easily pull him through, and he even finds a nice set of chain mail to wear, for better protection for the occasion times he does get hit. 
 
 But as soon as he slides the chain mail on, the dungeon starts to get interesting. The tiny chains clench together, tightening around the rogue, and at first he is sure the armor is trying to suffocate him. But even though it makes it a bit harder to breathe, it stops after a moment, and simply hangs tight to him, refusing to be budged. The armor is obviously cursed. 
 
 And he soon finds out the penalty for trying out a strange piece of equipment. It's heavy, and slows him just enough that he ca n't dodge away from slashes and scratches as well. Not only that, but after the third pounding he takes, a strange magic activates in the links of metal. A massive crab gets a powerful blow in, and the armor reacts by emitting a terrifying hissing noise. Clouds of thick, green smoke billowing from between the links, getting in his nose and eyes, clouding his vision and making it that much harder to breathe. 
 
 He struggles away from the crab, who seems to be affected by the gas too, from the way it weaves drunkenly across the floor, and runs from the cloud. When he is finally clear, he takes a deep breath, and the musty air of the dungeon cleared away the gas in his lungs. 
 
 The first question he has is, funnily enough, not *how do I get rid of this*, but rather *Who would make cursed armor, and then just leave it lying around? * 
 
 But, he keeps moving forward. Now he has more questions, about the dungeon itself as well as about the amulet he seeks. 
 
 Deeper, deeper, deeper. Past the grungiest, muckiest, dirtiest part of the sewer, fighting a massive blob of congealed slime and dark magic, through an abandoned prison, battling past the crazed inmates and disillusioned guards, nearly freeing some sort of ninja assassin prisoner, but managing to stop him before he escapes. 
 
 Past that are tunnels and caves, filled with more of the bipedal hyena creatures, but smarter and stronger, avoiding vicious bats and enormous green spiders. He nearly gets crushed by a massive, malfunctioning mining machine, but finding a way to dismantle it as well. The remains of previous would-be heroes warns him of more danger to come. 
 
 After that is an ancient, crumbling city, build by dwarves and now inhabited by their creations and twisted versions of their original glory. Reining over the remnants is an old, insane and power-hungry king, who rules with an iron fist and undead minions. But, with some tricks and turns, the rogue overturns the tyrants rule, and then, without a second glance, continued, deeper. 
 
 All along this way, he has found countless objects and items. Potions, helpful and dangerous, scrolls, magical in their very nature, made to remove curses and summon monsters, rings that, when worn, made him faster or stronger or smarter or harder to see. He even found more armor, and abandoned his dagger for a dual pair of electric swords, after stealing it from a living statue. 
 
 The scariest moment up until then had been equipping a set of heavy metal armor that he then could n't take off. As soon as he was hit, a flash of light drew all the energy and motion away from his attacker, and at first he was overjoyed when he saw them frost over. But the energy taken quickly built up, growing hotter and hotter, until he burst into a raging fire. 
 
 But even being literally *on fire* would be nothing compared to the levels that would come ahead. Demons roamed the deepest dungeons, fire and lava and mysterious magic. 
 
 And then, after fighting furiously, he encounters the guardian of the amulet. The last few pieces of an ancient demon, he has to contend with two gigantic fists and an eyeball filled with grubs. 
 
 Finally, he obtains the amulet. He can go no deeper. 
 
 But still he questions. Why was the dungeon so full of items, both helpful and hurtful? Countless adventurers had already come and gone with their loot, so why was there anything left? Where did the monsters come from, seemingly infinite? 
 
 And, holding the amulet, he knew he could find out. Flipping the hood up on his cloak, and watching himself disappear from view, he clutched the amulet close and made a wish. 
 
 In an instant, he was elsewhere. Surrounded by noise and chaos, it took the rogue a moment to adjust to the sudden change of surroundings. Glancing around, still invisible, he gaped in amazement 
 
 He was in a workshop, shelves and tables covered with clutter. But the amazing thing was that all this clutter were magical items, swords, rings, cloaks. There was a whole shelf dedicated to intricate wands. Yet everything was thrown around and scattered like scraps or trash. Things were moving and working automatically, testing and changing, balls of fire and arcs of electricity flying every which way. 
 
 A strange, shuffling movement caught his eye, and he turned to see a middle-aged man rummaging through one of the shelves, looking for something in particular. Curious, the rogue took a small step forward, and the man froze. The whole room ground to a halt, mechanics stopping and objects dropping to the floor. 
 
 Without turning around, the man straightened up. `` Well now, look what we have here! A visitor, and he did n't even bother to introduce himself!'' Turning around, the man stared at the rogue with bright blue eyes, his gaze piercing right through the cloaks invisibility. `` I have n't had a visitor in a long, looong time.'' He chuckled. `` I did n't even know it was possible!'' 
 
 The man shuffled closer, and grabbed at the hem of the shadowy cloak. It instantly became visible again under his hands, and he inspected it carefully. `` This must be the reason why. I stopped making these Cloaks years ago, but a decent number did get taken from my dungeon before then. It bypassed my wards entirely!'' 
 
 At a loss for words, the rogue stared at the man. Finally finishing his voice, he stammered out a reply. `` Y-y-your dungeon, sir?'' For some reason, this man scared him more than the ancient demon guardian had. 
 
 `` Oh, where are my manners.'' The old man tutted, and dropped the edge of the cloak. `` My name is Watabu.'' He held out a hand, and the rogue hesitantly shook it. 
 
 `` Yes, my dungeon. I created it specifically for adventures, much like you!'' Shuffling away, the man resumed searching the shelf. `` I find it so much fun to watch people grow and attack challenges. Plus, maintaining it is fun, and keeps me busy.'' 
 
 A little bewildered, the rogue glanced around. `` You mean, you made all these? You're the one responsible for the monsters and magics all through the dungeon?'' 
 
 The man pulled out a sack and dropped a couple items in it. `` Well of course, I'd have thought that'd be obvious. I add the magics, I feed the monsters, I shuffle the floors and traps so it's never the same twice!'' Finally giving up on searching the shelf, he swept the whole thing into the bag, then slung it over his shoulder. 
 
 `` But, but, people *die* in your dungeon all the time? They never return! You find that fun?'' The rouge was a bit panicked now. 
 
 `` Well of course people die. It's a dangerous dungeon!'' Watabu opened a cabinet, which was lined with amulets, identical to the one the rogue held now. `` But that does n't mean they ca n't try again.'' He opened a door, in the middle of thin air. `` Now, if you'll excuse me, I must bring a demon god back to life for the next adventurer.'' 
 
 *'' Why? `` * the rogue's voice got louder. `` What do you mean, try again?'' 
 
 Watabu looked at him one last time, hand resting on a nonexistent doorknob. `` Dying is n't the last adventure, not in this game.'' He chuckled. `` For all you know, you might have tried a hundred times already!'' 
 
 And with that, he stepped into nothingness and disappeared 
 
 
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 If anyone here plays pixel dungeon, you should understand where this is from: ) That was actually really fun to write, though it took a while! 

