Sado flexed his claws as the door slid open. His black fur was immaculate. His ears twitched listening for threats. His eyes pierced the darkness. The room beyond was a long thin hallway.
“Check for traps.”
Sado flicked his tail. He was of the Catkin. He was a disciple of the shadow sages. He could move between shadows quicker than a thought. He wasn’t afraid of traps.
“No mobs.” The voice behind him spoke again. “Trapped. What should we do?”
“Too bad we don’t have someone who could take care of those for us,” another voice replied.
Sado hissed. It wasn’t his fault they weren’t more specific with they’re job description.
“I will trip the trap, and dodge it,” Sado stated.
“What?”
“Wait!”
“No!”
Sado stepped through the shadows into the room. He would show them the skills of a shadow sage. Sado briefly left the material plane, touched the Sadocombs for an instant, and reappeared down the hallway.
He glanced back to grin at the party.
They were looking down at him in horror.
Down?
The entrance to the room was rising.
No. The ground was falling, the hallway teetering. It had been perfectly balanced before Sado’s weight had thrown it off. Sado’s paws slipped. He was sliding down the hall, toward an open pit. A pit full of lava.
Sado’s yowls did not end quickly.
“He had life insurance, right?”
“If he didn’t, that was our third runner down this month.”
“Why do they never check for traps?”
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