I stepped into the portal with a dramatic sigh, gripping my sword in one hand and dragging Ananara with the other. The swirling vortex spat us out into the dim, musty interior of the dungeon, where the air reeked of mildew and disappointment. Faint, sickly-green torches flickered along the walls, which seemed to pulse faintly, as if the dungeon itself were alive.
"Charming," I muttered. "I see the system has outdone itself."
[Why, thank you,] the system quipped. [Welcome to The Shifting Labyrinth. I worked very hard on it. Be sure to rate your experience. Unless, of course, you die. Then it's a one-star from you.]
"Do you ever shut up?"
[Not in my programming.]
Ananara, perched smugly on my shoulder, chimed in. "It appears your finest hour is upon us. Though knowing you, it'll be more of a… faintly tolerable hour at best."
