FelicityCn - TG Witch - Fleshcraft Labyrinth. Part 01

As the threatening stillness of the night weighs upon your every step, even the smallest stones beneath your boots sound deafening as they scatter with each slow stride.

Distant crows call through the darkness.

The shadows seem to watch you, their shapeless forms twisting between the trees.

And still... You walk.

The leaves above whisper among themselves, as though exchanging stories about you. And perhaps they are. After all, they must have plenty to say.

For nearly a century, a legend has crawled through these woods. Countless fools just like you have walked these trails in pursuit of their desires—some noble, others far darker.

There are countless tales of brave heroes who dared venture into the Witch of the West's lair, hidden deep within the Woods of the Ancients.

Strangely, those tales always seem to end at the entrance. Over the years, stories of glorious adventurers were slowly replaced by missing posters. By families waiting for someone who would never return. By widows mourning husbands who had ventured into the woods to seek the Lady's favor... hoping to claim the reward their bravery surely deserved.

One would have to be a fool to follow in their footsteps.

And yet... Here you are.

Perhaps that is why the leaves have so much to whisper about. To them, you may simply be another name. Another story. Another poor soul destined to spend their final days rotting somewhere within the dungeon.

You raise your eyes.

After hours of walking, guided only by stars that gradually vanished behind the ever-thickening canopy...

You finally see it.

You have arrived.

As you prepare to step into the gaping maw before you—to leave the whispering canopy behind and trade it for thick ceilings of stone and rows of hanging stalactites—a familiar glimmer catches your eye. Your boot splashes into a shallow puddle. Nothing remarkable.

And yet, it is wide and still enough to hold your reflection. You stop. You look down.

Who do you see?

22 years old. Strong, trained... and remarkably stupid.

Born into a noble family, Marcus grew up surrounded by wealth, privilege, and opportunities most could only dream of. Unfortunately, he was never particularly interested in any of them. Books bored him, politics confused him, and philosophy gave him headaches. Sword fighting, on the other hand... that he understood.

Marcus spent most of his youth training with some of the finest instructors his family's money could provide. Years of swordsmanship, sparring, hunting, and physical training have turned him into a genuinely formidable young warrior. He's strong, resilient, and knows exactly how to handle himself in a fight. The problem usually comes before the fight.

Marcus is arrogant, impulsive, loud-mouthed, and has an almost supernatural ability to make terrible decisions with absolute confidence. When thinking and fighting are both viable options, Marcus fights. His noble status hasn't exactly helped either. Whenever his behavior got him into trouble, a quick reminder of his royal bloodline was usually enough to make the problem disappear.

Marcus has come to the Labyrinth for one reason: Glory. He desperately wants to prove that he's more than just another spoiled noble—that he is a warrior worthy of his family's name. Rumor has it that artifacts lie somewhere within these depths whose value surpasses even the greatest treasures of the Kingdom.

All he has to do is enter, fight whatever stands in his way, retrieve one, and return home a hero. Simple.

At least... Marcus thinks it is.

30 years old. Skilled, perceptive... and completely untrained for combat.

Baldric was born into a family of poor laborers and learned very early that surviving without wealth or status requires something else: resourcefulness. Years of hard work eventually brought him to the capital, where an aging blacksmith took him under his wing—and Baldric proved to be an exceptionally quick learner.

Armor, blades, locks, mechanisms, tools... give him enough time to examine something and he'll usually understand how it works—and, more importantly, how it might fail. His years at the forge have also made him remarkably observant. Baldric notices small details others overlook, reads people surprisingly well, and possesses the kind of natural charisma that makes strangers trust him far more quickly than they probably should.

He can negotiate. He can improvise. He can usually talk his way out of trouble. There is, however, one fairly significant problem: Baldric has absolutely no combat training. He may spend his days forging swords, but knowing how to make a weapon and knowing how to use one are two very different things.

But Baldric hasn't entered the Labyrinth looking for glory. Lately, his mentor has been coughing more often—and harder. The old blacksmith has begun teaching Baldric how to run the forge alone, and sometimes he'll simply stare into the flames and begin telling stories about his youth. Baldric understands what that means.

Today is his thirtieth birthday, and the man waiting for him back home is the only family he has left. If the legends speak of enchanted weapons hidden within the Labyrinth, perhaps somewhere inside lies something else. A potion. An elixir. A miracle.

Anything that might save him.

27 years old. Brilliant, knowledgeable... and painfully frail.

Looking at Tobias, few would guess just how much knowledge hides behind those tired eyes. Thin, poorly fed, and physically weak, he hardly resembles an adventurer. But Tobias has something the others don't: an education.

His life wasn't always spent sleeping behind taverns and beneath trees. Years ago, Tobias had access to books, scholars, histories, and knowledge that most commoners would never encounter in their lifetime. Even after losing nearly everything else, he never stopped learning. History, folklore, ancient kingdoms, forgotten religions, alchemy, strange creatures—Tobias absorbs information obsessively.

Living on the streets has only expanded that knowledge. People talk, especially drunk people, and Tobias has spent years listening as merchants, travelers, soldiers, and supposedly heroic knights traded stories about distant lands and impossible creatures. Some were undoubtedly lies. The frightening part is that Tobias knows enough to recognize the ones that probably weren't.

When faced with an ancient inscription, an unfamiliar creature, a strange potion, or a forgotten legend, Tobias may already know what it is. Unfortunately, knowing how a monster kills you doesn't make you any harder to kill. Tobias is frail—very frail. His greatest weapon is his mind, and he'd strongly prefer to solve a problem before it gets close enough to require another one.

Life in the capital has recently become increasingly dangerous. Tensions between the duchies have pushed the Kingdom into paranoia, and anyone wandering the streets without an obvious purpose can now be accused of spying. Homeless men make remarkably convenient suspects.

So Tobias has come to the Labyrinth looking for the one thing that could buy him a new life: Gold. He doesn't need glory or recognition.

He just needs enough to disappear.

Your reflection painfully reminds you of the person you are as you enter this place. Whoever eventually walks back out of this cave, you can only hope they will carry proof of their bravery, a miraculous cure... Or simply pockets full of gold.

You look back at the moon one last time, silently praying that you'll get to see it again someday—and not through six feet of dirt and a wooden coffin. Then, you cross the threshold.

You walk for what feels like an eternity. The entrance slowly disappears behind you, swallowed by darkness as the forest gives way to cold, damp stone. Before long, even the sound of the outside world is gone.

Then, somewhere ahead... A violet light appears.

It slowly drifts closer, casting strange shadows across the rocky walls of the dark, cold and humid labyrinth. For the first time, you can properly see your surroundings: enormous stone pillars, walls built from massive bricks, and broken arches decorated with grotesque gargoyles depicting creatures you cannot even begin to comprehend.

Then a voice breaks the silence.

"Hello... I know what you're looking for."

You instinctively flinch.

The violet glow turns around the corner of a dusty corridor draped in thick cobwebs. Behind it comes a slender silhouette crowned by a pointed hat, approaching with an oddly sensual sway made uneven by a noticeable limp.

The sound of a cane striking stone echoes through the corridor.

And then... You see her.

A grotesquely wide smile stretches across her face. A sweet yet bitter scent follows her, like the perfume of flowers left to wither over a pile of rotten fruit. But what truly captures your attention are her eyes—bloodshot and restless, moving strangely within their sockets.

There is something deeply wrong about her. And yet, the awkward grace of her movements is almost... Hypnotic.

She stops before you, leaning against her cane.

"But first... shall we begin with a card reading?"

Her crooked smile widens. Reaching into her cleavage, she slowly produces three cards and fans them out before you.

"Choose one."

She tilts her head.

"Choose carefully. Believe it or not... your chances of success may depend greatly on what lies beneath one of these cards."

She waits. The three cards stare back at you.

Which one have you picked ?

"Oh... now that's a very interesting draw. I do hope you'll know how to make good use of it..."

She smiles for a moment and gives you a playful wink. As her eyelid closes, it squeezes out a strange yellowish fluid, thick and pus-like, which slowly trickles down her right cheek.

You swallow hard, barely suppressing a gag. Not wanting to appear rude in front of this nightmarish creature, you lower your eyes toward your boots and awkwardly mumble something resembling:

"Uh... could you perhaps tell me where the entrance is?"

She bursts into laughter—or at least, you assume it's laughter. It sounds more like someone violently clearing their throat, a horrible muffled cackle that eventually collapses into a coughing fit.

"Of course I know where the entrance is, darling. But you see... the threshold you're about to cross, the one leading you into what may very well be the last true quest of your life..."

Her grotesque smile slowly widens.

"...is my domain."

She leans closer.

"And I simply refuse to let just anyone wander in here and cross even a single one of my doors without first experiencing the full extent of my hospitality..."

As she speaks, one hand slowly rises toward her right breast, suggestively squeezing it through her clothes.

You frown and quickly try to look elsewhere.

Clink. Clink.

The faint sound of metal catches your attention. Your eyes reluctantly return to her decrepit, yellowed fingernails...

And to the ring of keys now dangling from her hand. She notices immediately where your attention has gone. Her smile fades. She stares at you for a few seconds before finally letting out a long, disappointed sigh.

"Fine... You have no idea what you're missing."

She rolls her eyes.

"But I'm certainly not letting you go in there empty-handed!"

Before you can ask what she means, your vision suddenly blurs. The air in front of you shimmers. When your sight clears, three strange vials are floating before you, gently swaying above the stone floor.

The witch's smile returns.

"Well then, pretty thing... Which one will you choose?"

You stare at the three potions. No names. No labels. And, perhaps most concerningly...

No explanation whatsoever. You glance back at the witch. Then at the potions.

Honestly, the less time you spend talking to this hideous mockery of femininity, the better. You hesitantly reach forward.

"Uh... I'll take..."

"Very well, sweetheart... I won't keep you on a leash any longer. Whatever waits behind one of those doors will have plenty of time to do that for me."

This is it.

This is where your journey truly begins.

There is still time to turn around. Somewhere beyond these woods, perhaps another path exists. Another way to achieve what you came here for without gambling your life within this cursed place.

And yet, something inside you refuses to turn back.

You came here searching for something—but perhaps the Labyrinth holds far more than what you originally sought. Treasures, miracles, secrets... things you don't even know you desire yet.

You can only hope that whatever reward lies within these walls isn't a torrid night with that witch.

"Come now... One final choice."

Suddenly, the wall before you begins to stretch.

The massive bricks pull away from one another as though they were made of some soft, elastic substance. Stone bends and distorts impossibly, yet the entire transformation happens in complete silence.

No grinding stone. No cracking mortar.

Nothing. Within seconds, three doors stand before you. Each is different, but all three bear a small lock at their center. Your eyes are first drawn to the door on the left.

It is forged from pristine metal, polished to a mirror-like sheen and covered in intricate golden details. Then something moves across its surface.

Vines.

Thin green tendrils covered in leaves begin crawling across the metal like serpents. They twist around one another, spreading impossibly fast until, within seconds, the cold surface has become a strange tableau of gold and steel buried beneath a thick tapestry of living vegetation.

The leaves gently tremble.

There is no wind down here.

The second door is... rougher.

Rusty metal plates are crudely nailed together, reinforced here and there with thick ropes. The chaotic construction immediately reminds you of the Eastern Raiders, infamous for scavenging armor from soldiers who fell during the Great Battle of the Duchies and turning it into crude equipment of their own.

Raiders often hoard whatever they find in makeshift camps. Beyond this door, you might find armor, supplies... perhaps even a weapon.

Which would certainly help, considering...

You currently have nothing.

Unlike the others, this one is built from massive blocks of roughly carved stone. There is no real lock at its center. Instead, a heavy handle is held firmly in place by a strange, elaborate padlock, as though whoever built this door wasn't trying to keep intruders out...

But rather, something inside.

Thin cracks run across its rough surface, and from deep within them seeps a faint, radiant glow. It pulses softly through the stone, almost like light trying to force its way out.

Whatever lies beyond this enormous structure, the chamber is undoubtedly steeped in magic.

Perhaps something powerful has been sealed away in there. An artifact, an enchantment... maybe even some kind of blessing that could give you a considerable advantage as you venture deeper into the Labyrinth.

Of course...

There's probably a reason someone went through so much trouble to lock it away.

"Well, sweetheart? Choose your door... and enter the Labyrinth."

You hesitate.

After all, this simple decision may very well determine whether you live or die...

Perhaps even something worse.

You glance up at the witch one last time. It's time to take the plunge, with no way of knowing whether anything will be there to pull you back out should you drown.

But whether you came here for a noble cause, survival, or simple vanity, you've already taken the first step.

Turning back now is unthinkable.

You take a breath, raise your hand...

And make your choice.

I hope this little introduction managed to intrigue you and made you curious about what's waiting deeper inside the Labyrinth!

Please let me know what you think in the comments! This was a bit of a first for me—I haven't written something like this in quite a while, haha.

I know this first episode is pretty wordy, but there was a lot to introduce: the world, the characters, the atmosphere, and the rules of this little adventure. The next steps should be much more straightforward, as this post was mainly meant to serve as an introduction to the universe!

Anyway, I'm really curious to see what you'll choose...

See you deeper in the Labyrinth.