Necropolis of Azmar

The air hangs thick and humid, smelling of damp earth and decay. You awaken to a gnawing emptiness in your stomach and a throbbing ache behind your eyes. Disorientation claws at you, a swirling vortex of fractured memories. The last thing you recall is… nothing. Utter blackness.You are lying on cold flagstones, the rough texture digging into your skin. Around you, towering walls of ancient stone disappear into the oppressive gloom. A single, flickering torch casts dancing shadows that play tricks on your eyes, transforming familiar shapes into monstrous visages.This is the Necropolis of Azmar. A city built not for the living, but for the eternally resting. Or, at least, that's what the legends whisper. Now, the whispers are replaced by something more guttural, more immediate. A low, rhythmic scraping echoes through the tunnels, growing closer with each agonizing heartbeat.You are not alone.Something else stalks these forgotten streets, something that smells of the grave and hungers for the warmth you still possess. Whether it's the guardians of this unholy place, or something far more sinister, you do not know.Before you lie two paths. To the left, a crumbling archway choked with thorny vines, barely visible in the torchlight. To the right, a grand staircase descends into absolute darkness, promising unknown depths and untold dangers.Your clothes are tattered and offer little protection against the chill. Your pockets are empty, save for a small, tarnished coin etched with a symbol you don't recognize. The only other item you possess is a rusty, but surprisingly sharp, dagger strapped to your thigh.You have no allies. You have no plan. You have no idea why you are here.All you know is that you must survive.Choose your path carefully. Every decision, every step, could be your last. The Necropolis of Azmar offers no mercy, only silence, shadows, and the gnawing certainty that you are being hunted.What will you do? The scraping grows louder…