Argus stood back, his chest tight with emotion, as he filled the grave with earth. Each shovel of dirt felt like a final farewell, a closing of a chapter in his life that he could never reopen. When he was done, he fashioned a simple cross from two sticks and placed it at the head of the grave.
-Rest in peace, Karliah, he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. You were a true hero, and you will never be forgotten.
Eventually, exhausted and broken, Argus collapsed beside Karliah's grave, his body wracked with sobs.
As the days passed by, the initial shock and sorrow of Karliah's death slowly gave way to a burning rage within Argus. His grief transformed into a fierce desire for revenge, a thirst for vengeance that consumed his every thought.
He spent his days honing his skills with the rapier, his movements fueled by anger and determination. Every strike, every parry was infused with the memory of the ones he lost, driving him to become stronger, faster, deadlier.
As the days turned into weeks, and then months, Argus's training took on a darker, more intense quality. His grief and rage fueled him, pushing him to the brink of his physical and mental limits. He sought out every mudskipper he could find, viewing them as symbolic of the forces that had taken Karliah from him.
As Argus delved deeper into his training, his methods grew increasingly brutal and unforgiving. He no longer just sought out mudskippers; he hunted them with a relentless determination, his every move calculated to inflict maximum pain and suffering.
He devised new techniques, honing his skills to a razor-sharp edge. Each strike was executed with deadly precision, aimed at incapacitating his enemies with as much agony as possible.
The mudskippers stood no chance against his onslaught, their numbers dwindling as Argus's wrath knew no bounds.
But with each mudskipper he dispatched, Argus's rage only seemed to grow. The pain of his loss fueled him, forcing him to push himself harder, to become stronger, faster, and more ruthless. He trained for hours on end, pushing his body to its limits and beyond, all in the name of vengeance.
The once gentle and reserved Argus was now a man possessed, his eyes burning with a steely resolve. He spoke little, his mind consumed by thoughts of retribution against those who had taken his loved ones from him.
As Argus ventured further into the cave, the stench of rotting flesh grew stronger, assaulting his senses and making his stomach churn. The darkness seemed to press in around him, broken only by the faint glow of phosphorescent fungi clinging to the walls.
He could hear the creature moving ahead, its heavy footsteps echoing through the cavern. Argus crept forward, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, until he caught sight of the Sharko.
The Megoladaunt (Sharko) was a massive beast, its scales gleaming in the faint light, its jaws dripping with saliva. Argus knew he had to be careful, for one wrong move could mean certain death.
Argus circled the Sharko, his eyes locked on its massive form. The creature lunged, its jaws snapping shut just inches from Argus's face. He darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack, and retaliated with a swift strike to the Sharko's flank.
The Sharko roared in pain, its tail thrashing wildly as it tried to catch Argus off guard. Argus danced away, his movements fluid and precise, always staying one step ahead of the beast. But the Sharko was relentless, its sheer size and strength making it a formidable opponent.
Argus knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down for a moment. He ducked and weaved, dodging the Sharko's powerful blows and striking back with calculated precision. The battle raged on, each combatant delivering punishing blows to the other.
Finally, with a final, decisive strike, Argus drove his rapier deep into the Sharko's heart. The creature let out a deafening roar before collapsing to the ground, defeated.
As Argus stood over the defeated Sharko, he couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline and triumph. The beast lay motionless, its once menacing form now reduced to a lifeless heap on the cave floor.
But as the rush of battle faded, exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave. Every muscle in his body ached, and he could feel the bruises and cuts from his fight with the Sharko throbbing painfully.
Despite his weariness, Argus knew he couldn't stay in the cave much longer. He needed to find his way back to the surface before he became too weak to continue. With a weary sigh, he began the arduous journey back, each step a painful reminder of the battle he had just endured.
As he emerged from the cave, blinking in the harsh light of the sun, Argus knew that his quest for vengeance was far from over.
The Sharko was just the beginning, and there would be many more challenges and dangers ahead. But he was determined to see it through, to honor his loved ones memory and fulfill his Vow of Vengeance.
Argus found a secluded spot, away from the cave's entrance, and settled down for the night. He was haunted by dreams full of familiar screams echoing in his ears. The images of the people he lost played over and over in his mind, fueling his anger and determination.
As dawn broke, Argus awoke, his body stiff and sore from the previous day's exertions. He knew he couldn't afford to linger.
He packed up his meager belongings and set off towards Upper Erisia.