The keeper did not open the trapdoor until the young man had set down everything he came with, the satchel, the letters, the ledger of small debts, the ring, and finally the name that people upstairs used to find him in a crowd, which took the longest, because a man does not realize how much weight a name carries until he is asked to leave it on a desk in a stone room beneath a city that does not know he is there. When he was done the keeper crouched and worked the iron ring and the stone ground against itself with a sound the young man felt in his back teeth before he heard it with his ears. The cold that came up from below was ancient and deliberate, the cold of something that had been counting. Before the young man could lean over to look the keeper grabbed his arm, certain the way old things move when they are done being patient, and said do not go down there planning to come back the same, said it once, dropped his arm, handed him a light and pointed at the opening. The young man went because his feet went before he decided, down into the dark that smelled of stone and time and something deeper than both, the trapdoor closing above him like a held breath released, and the grinding followed him all the way down.
>>6456087go on...?
>>6456156He walked the dusty path as a man walks through a valley he has seen before in sleep, the ground familiar but the air wrong, the light present but giving no warmth. Ahead stood two horse carriages, dark and still, and from the first came a voice he could not place speaking words he could not hold. Then from the brush on either side his name, his name, spoken by mouths he could not see, voices that knew him, calling with the easy familiarity of those who had always known where he was going. He did not stop. He did not answer. For the river was ahead and the hour was not yet, and a man who stops to answer every voice that knows his name will never reach the water he was sent to find. And he walked.
is this shit written by AI?
I think, by far, this is the worst "quest" I have seen thus far, actually.
>>6456207>>6456209The text and images are both AI generated and poorly
>>6456209If I can't be the best, I'll gladly take being the worst.LUSTHe walked the path and then he was there, the bonfire already going, the keg already half gone, bass coming through the walls like a second pulse. Jessica found him before he found her, sundress and bare shoulders, the kind of smile that does not ask permission, cup extended toward him like an offering. He took it. The fire was behind her so she was always slightly lit, always the brightest thing in his peripheral vision no matter where he looked. Across the yard a southern girl named Madison in cowboy boots was leaning over the ping pong table saying she wanted in, drawl thick as honey, knowing exactly what leaning forward does and doing it anyway. Behind her Chris was winning at cornhole, laughing with his whole chest, everyone watching him the way people watch fire. Jessica laughed at something he said that was not that funny and he felt it in his chest before he felt it anywhere else. The cups were full and then empty and full again. She leaned against the table and her shoulder touched his and one by one people were disappearing through doors, up stairs, into rooms, the house swallowing them two at a time, quietly, like it had always been the plan. He was not drunk. He was just standing very still while everything moved toward him.
a thread died for this shit>>6456217>8 57 pm>utc+4from what sort of hellhole are you from?
This does not appear to be a quest
>>64562234. gluttony
greed?
Wrath
Janny, delete this fucking thread
>>6456247heresy
7
cake
last
