Deep within the bowels of a presumably derelict pyramid wanders a solitaire swordsman; purposed gait and confident swagger infer his wanderlust through cool, torch-lit corridors is not accidental but in search of a desire. The ghostly golden ambiance and burning crackle as they hang in their sconces direct his adventure through the ancient structure where the stale, dusty air whispers of forgotten rituals, battle and death. If his fancy is a treasure hunt it seems the only objections will be the clever traps lain by long gone builders and restless spirits of those killed uncleanly.

The man thinks himself safe enough to break for lunch in one of the expansive chambers where toppled pillars, skeletons and fractured stone structures convey decay; a room illuminated by standing braziers along walls decorated by playful shadows playing tag across the floor. Only the standing, empty idols of once-revered gods remain impeccable as they observe the construct's entropy with indifference. There the swordsman flourishes his blade to fashion his food, insomuch to use an arcane or intrinsic heat to satisfy his stomach's decree; there he eats with gladness and respite until resumption of the tasks which brought him to that deceptively dangerous place.

All appears normal save for his own entrance; only the quiet fills the background between sounds he makes for several minutes 'til he has nearly finished his meal. Mayhap only three bites remain when noise slithers into the room from down the previous hallway: a single faint, dragging rasp of metal somewhere distant soon hushed for many moments; assumptions it is imaginary are dispelled when it shrieks afresh, a bit louder; closer but still notably far off.

It seems he isn't the only one roaming the labyrinth today...