Once upon a time the brave and storied hero Godwin Lonesworn was traveling the country side of Vraleth, looking for wrongs to right, evil to vanquish, and justice to be served. In his travel he found the Roselake village, a quaint little hamlet in desperate need of a hero. For a villainous warlock had stolen all the children of the village to sacrifice to his dark god.

Godwin road out with his magic sword to rescue the children and smite the warlock. He battled the magicians demon servants and stormed his Onyx tower with faith and valor in his heart. He reached the highest level of the tower were the warlock stood waiting with the children bound and ready to be slaughtered. The two did battle and the warlock was slain and the children cheered! All except one...

A little black haired boy no older than 5 had sliped out of his bonds and instead of attempting escape, had crawled under the altar he was to be gutted on and fell asleep, oblivious to the ferocious duel taking place mere feet from him. Godwin returned all of the children to their families and scoured the realm for the boy's parents. The boy himself had no idea were he came from as he had spent his life working as a servant to the warlock. Unable to find the boy's family Godwin adopted the child and named him Gilligan, after the knight who had trained Godwin.

Enjoying the gentle hills, tranquil forrests, and Crystal waters of Roselake, Godwin built a beautiful villa in the county to raise Gilligan in. As a boy Godwin tried to instill the values of honor, valor, and dedication to all that is good in Gilligan. Yet he found a lazy and uncooperative student. Gil would prefer to spend his time napping, fishing, and reading the day away. Godwin tried as he might he could never motivate the boy and his time was torn between training Gil in the sword and justice, and traveling the world smiting evil.

One day when Gilligan was 14 years old Godwin woke his son from sleep at the crack of dawn and told him, "Son, I'm going on a quest. I... don't think I'll be back for a very long while. I don't suppose you would like to come along? We could make this your very first quest!" "Algh umpth, izz... 5 minutes..." was all the response he got. Godwin smiled and said, "I thought as much." he then removed his legendary greatsword and dropped it on his son's stomach. The heavy weight of it woke Gilligan up a bit more and he stared in confusion at the magic weapon.

"I won't be around to protect you son. So I figure Oculus will have to do it for me." Godwin answered the quizzical look. The blade was truly a work of art. Forged by the dwarves from their strongest steel, the blade would never break, dull, or rust and could cut lines into the face of a mountain if a strong hand were to guide it. Furthermore it was blessed with magic from the elves and the high sorcerers of man to be a threat to any being. It could sever the connection to plans unknown wounding ghost, demons, and stranger things still. Their was only one problem...

"Umm... Dad? I can't lift this. It's... To heavy." Godwin ignored the complaint and walked towards the door. As he left he yelled behind his back, "Lift the sword above your head twice a day and one day you'll be able to wield it as if she were air!" and just like that he was gone. Of on some other unknown quest.

Gilligan spent the next half hour dragging the sword to his closet, and he went back to bed, with no intention of touching it again.



Godwin hasn't been seen or heard from in years. Gilligan, now a man, is responsible for years worth of unpaid taxes wiping out the fortune left him. The tax collector comes to Roselake in two weeks And Gilligan doesn't have near enough gold to keep his beautiful villa. But... he dose have enough money to buy a old short sword and some bandages. And that barrel lid with some leather straps could be a convincing buckler. And wasn't the tax collector complaining about the last collector getting robbed? Near the old ruins wasn't it?

Gilligan had opened his window blinds so that the sun reaching the horizon would stream in and wake him. That's how Godwin always woke himself in the morning. However years of sleeping in wasn't as easy to break as he thought, and dispute his efforts the sun was well into the sky by the time Him woke himself. He sat on the corner of his bed and rubbed his neck for a few moments before getting dressed. He wore a simple homespun tunic, workmens trousers, and a wool vest and cap to keep away the morning chill. "When dad went off gods know were, why did he take all the cool stuff!" Gilligan complained to himself. "Damn, I look like any old village idiot." he thought while lacing his boots. He went to leave his room when he looked back and saw his closet. The one Oculus was stored in.

"Maybe... Maybe lifting the sword everyday was metaphorical? Ya some magical Shit about dealing without him every day. Ya that's it." Gil told himself as he went to retrieve the blade. He opended the doors and grabbed the hilt of the massive sword... And imminently plummeted to the earth under its weight.

"Okay," he panted as the fall nocked the breath from him, "Not...a metaphor." he grabbed the closet door to pull himself up, only to find it not as steady as he thought, bringing it and it's contents spilling onto the floor and banging his knee. And thus our hero surveyed the destruction he wrought, "That's... I'll clean it up later." he said to the empty room.

He had boiled a dozen eggs the night before and ate 3 of them for breakfast, he wrapped the others in a cloth along with an Apple and stuck tied the bundle to the hilt of the sword he bought the other day. For how little he spent on it his new sword wasn't that bad, despite the iron being melted down from old farm equipment. Still what passes for a weapon in Roselake was a heavy stuck or club, he should count himself lucky the blacksmith had made the sword as a hobby piece. He put the bastard blade the scabbard over his shoulder.

And thus armed with a sword made from a hoe, a rusty set of skill, his wits, and his lunch, our hero sets out to sow his own legend and more importantly, make rent.



Our hero returns home having forgot his barrel shield and lantern.



Gilligan arrived at the a set of ruins, about a mile off the main road. The ruins was a stone hut built over a trap door. The dungeon belonged to the Warlock Godwin had slain years ago. People could only hazard a guess as to what was down there. Traps? Monsters? Demons? But what Gilligan was hoping for above all else, a big shiny pile of gold.

Godwin had never cleared the dungeon, he said he was saving it for Gilligan, as his first test and an opportunity to explore and face his past. That's all well and good but right now all Gil was worried about was paying the bills.

And so he lit his lantern, opened the trap door, and descended into the darkness.

All was in complete darkness. Only the echoing sounds of his own footsteps accompanied the stalwart hero down into the inky blackness. Gilligans lantern illuminated the stairwell only a couple of meters in front of him. The limestone walls and stairs were perfectly smooth and cool to the touch. Immaculately clean without a trace of moisture.

It didn't take long for the darkness and quiet to get to Gilligan. Paranoid thoughts and feelings swirled in his head like a hurricane. Filling the the gaps that his sensory deprivation left in his mind. Gilligan had no way of telling the time. Whether he traversed down the stairs for several minutes to a couple of hours, he knew not. For all Gilligan knew, these stairs could very well lead him to the gates of hell itself.

And so he continued, barely keeping his courage intact. Down into the heart of darkness. The very essence of mystery itself made the air tingle.

"Okay...dark and scary. Scary and dark... And lonely." were the thoughts bouncing around Gilligan's head the stair case was long and winding, and he took note of the eerily clean walls. "Well... It seems no one canceled the maid service at least." Gil joked to himself, yet he knew the cleanliness most likely could mean either some still lasting magic spell... It the dungeon was inhabited. He couldn't decide which troubled him more.

It was a nerve wracking trip to the bottom of the steps. At the base was a beautiful limestone door. Taking a deep breath and pushed open the heavy doors.

Gilligan was greeted by what seemed like a vast and empty abyss. Through the limestone doors was a rather cavernous area. So vast was this area that his lantern light didn't even reach the walls. All Gilligan could see was the door he just entered through, the limestone wall that surrounded it, and the limestone floor beneath his feet. The floor itself was as smooth and as clean as the walls. Gilligan was an island of light in an unfathomable sea of darkness.

"Hellooooo!" Gilligan called out into the darkness. His echoing voice was his only response.

It was difficult to determine in which direction to walk in such a place. Gilligan took a few moments to decide before making his decision.

Gilligan took a few moments and begain walking foreword into the blackness until he reached a set of three doors at the end of the room. Gil then searched his mind for the most logical way to choose which door to pick. "Ennie, meenie, minnie, moe..." he landed on the left door and walked into the next room.

On the other side of the door was yet another vast and cavernous hall. Completely bathed in that familiar inky darkness. It resembled the previous hall exactly.

He looked back at the door he just passed through. It looked exactly like the first limestone door through which he entered. What was truly freaky was that the other two doors were missing. Perhaps, Gilligan thought to himself, this was the door he passed through initially.

He decided to test this hypothesis by reopening the doorway through which he just traversed. What he found fascinated yet frustrated him with equal measure. He found a limestone stairwell that looked exactly like the one he descended before. Gilligans confusion quickly gave way to panic and paranoia.

He leaned against the wall inside the vast hall next to the doorway. He slid his body down until he was seated. Gillgan calmed himself down with a couple of deep breaths.

"Keep calm and think it out, that's what survival's all about." he said to himself.

There where a few possibilities at play there. One was that the door on the left of the three doors teleported him back to the other side of the hall. Another is that the door teleported him back to the stairs if he tried to go back through, but the hall it opened into was a different hall. Another possibility was that the hall was the same hall, but the stairs themselves were different. So many different possibilities! What was the right move to take?

Gilligan wondered whether he should either go back up the stairs or continue into the identical dark great hall.

Gilligan puzzled out the mystery for a few moments and suddenly was struck with a good test to the nature of the doors. He walked the length of the hallway and came back upon the three doors. He dug into his lunch sack and pulled out his Apple he opened (or perhaps reopened depending on how this goes) the door on the left and gently rolled the fruit through the doorway. He then turned around and came back to the door he had came in at to see if his Apple had tracked back to the start of the room.

The vast hall of darkness was much too long for Gilligan to successfully roll the apple all the way to the other side. Knowing this, he decided to walk back to exactly where he came from. Taking the exact same straight path through the darkness.

On the floor, a few meters away from the previous door, he found the apple. Gilligan picked it up and examined it closely. All the same cuts where there, along with that small bruise on the side. It was his apple alright.

And so with the mystery of the left door seemingly solved, Gilligan took a bite out of his delicious fruit. He then pondered his next move. Gilligan could either go through the middle door or the right hand door. Of course he could also ascend the stairs and leave the dungeon. That was always a choice.

Gilligan thought a moment as he ate the rest of his apple, saving the core in case he needed it. Gilligan thought about himself and summed himself up. Yes he was lazy, overconfident, poorly prepared, and in over his head but by the gods he was no quitter! Actually be was a huge quitter. He gave up on nearly everything hard or confusing in his life, yet at this particular moment he felt unnaturally motivated.

He went back down the hallway and strode boldly into the center door.

The limestone door swivelled to the side on its hinges. The doorway opened up to reveal a limestone staircase leading upwards. These stairs look very familiar. Almost too familiar.

Gilligan pondered whether to ascend those stairs. Doing so may very well be a huge waste of time, for they may very well be the stairs he previously descended to get to this confusing dark hall. He considered going through the right door instead. Leaving the dungeon was off the table though, for he was stubborn as a mule. Gilligan didn't know when to quit while he was ahead. It has always been his problem.

So, Gilligan thought to himself, should he proceed up the mysterious staircase or should he go through the right door instead?

Gilligan figured that as long as he was here he might as well check behind the right hand door before progressing, so he left the center door wide open and then opened the right hand door and peeked his head through.

As Gilligan peeked his head through the right door, he beheld the most bewildering sight in this dungeon. Perhaps the most bewildering sight in this world. He saw two familiar doors on the other side. But what he saw over on the far door startled him like nothing else.

He spied his own body, leaning through the slightly open far doorway. He could only see the side of his bottom half. Gilligans top half was hidden for it was through the doorway.

Gilligan leapt backwards. The mental shock felt strong enough to be physical. The door slowly swung closed and settled noiselessly back into place. Wow, he thought to himself. Magic is weird.

That door was, something else. Was Gilligan brave enough to go through it? Or did the stairs through the centre door become a more sensible and attractive option? He could always try the left door again, but Gilligan was convinced that he knew the game the left door played.

Gilligan puzzled the door a few more moments before deciding to take the center staircase, from what he gathered the deft and right doors would only take him to the start of the hallway. He of course suspected another magical trick, yet he had to admit... This was kind of fun.

The limestone staircase was as long and as winding as the previous one. Whether it was the same staircase or not, there was only one way to find out. The same paranoia and trepidation that assaulted Gilligan during his descent returned with a vengeance. There was a chance that he was in a magical trap. That he may never get out of the dungeon alive.

At last, Gilligan reached the top of the stairwell. He discovered a similar ladder that rose up to an all too familiar trapdoor. Was this the same trapdoor as the one through which he entered the dungeon? Or was it a different trapdoor that looked identical to the first one? What would happen if Gilligan were to decide to descend that stairwell again? Will he be back in the same dark great hall or will he be somewhere else entirely? Previous experience in this dungeon would indicate that the former would be more likely.

Gilligan remembered some old advice he was given a long time ago. It was that appearances can be deceiving and that surprises await around every corner. It is important to always keep an open mind whilst remaining sensible. Above all else, always be on guard.

Two obvious choices awaited Gilligan. He could choose to either climb out of the familiar trapdoor or go back the way he came. Taking his chances back down in the great dark hall.

Gilligan turned around and headed back down the staircase, believing he finally figured out how the hallway worked. These doors took him back to were he started. So we're would his start take him? He reached the three sets of doors and took the one on the left as a shortcut back to the other end of the hall. He closed the door, turned around, closed and reopened the door, and headed up the stairs that appeared, hopefully taking him somewhere other then were it originally had.

The ascent up the winding staircase was as long as before. Gilligans fear and trepidation were replaced with annoyance and frustration. He no longer cared about the possible dangers he may face. As long as something happened. Anything at all. Gilligan couldn't fathom a worse fate than being lost and slowly starved to death, especially in a place like that. So cold, so dark.

Gilligan finally reached the top of the staircase. He discovered a very familiar ladder that rose up into a trapdoor that he was very well acquaintanced with at that point.

Two obvious choices awaited Gilligan, though he was free to do whatever he wished. One was to climb out of the trapdoor. The other was to descend the stairs back down into the dark hall. In such a strange and magical environment, who's to say what's real and what's not? Especially if the magic was powerful enough to bend reality.

Gilligan starred down the trapdoor and crossed his fingers. This had to take him further in the dungeon it had to! Especially since it was a long walk home. One sure to be disappointing if he had no treasure to find. Gilligan took a deep breath and pushed open the trap door.

Light shined through the open trapdoor. The relief he felt upon this discovery was palatable. Like that first sip of ones favourite drink after a bout of thirst. Gillian let out a soft and quiet yet audible ahh sound.

All he could see through the trapdoor was a stone ceiling. Curiosity got the better of Gilligan for he, without hesitation, pulled himself up through the opening.

He climbed up into the floor on all fours. The floor itself was made of a different type of stone this time. Not as smooth to the touch, nor as clean. It felt a little warm as well.

Gilligan stood up in order to survey his surroundings more effectively. He was surrounded by stone walls. A square opening each were carved into the walls to his left and to his right. Behind him a doorway without a door was also carved out. The room itself wasn't very big. The area seemed to be about forty meters squared.

Through the openings, he could see trees and sunlight. He could hear the breeze, peppered the chirping of birds. This place seemed all too familiar.

"Gosh darn it!" yelled Gilligan.

The frustration was really starting to get to him. This was the stone hut through which he entered the underground limestone dungeon in the first place.

Gilligan faced two choices. Either he could venture back into the limestone dungeon to try to uncover its mysteries. Or he could give up for the day and go home.

Asking the rangers guild in town for help with the dungeon could be a good idea, though they would probably demand almost all the loot, including the inevitable grand prize at the end of every dungeon. The magical dungeons always seemed to have the coolest stuff. Would Gilligan be content with the meagre scraps that would be left behind for him?

Did Gilligan feel smart enough to uncover the mystery on his own? Perhaps he doubted his intelligence? Maybe he was close to solving the puzzle? Or maybe he was way off. The choice was his.

Gilligan was looking his already short patience and was about, for the millionth time in his life, to just give up and go to bed. But first he figured he had to do things right one. If he was gonna solve this puzzle, he first needed all the pieces. He never actually gone through the center doors staircase. So he descended the stairs, (hopefully for the last time) and placed down the hall to ascend the center staircase.

He had a sensation of disturbing deja vu as he climbed the eerily similar staircase and lifted the new trapdoor.