Sjsnwhnxshsh1

The Caverns’ darkness was all-consuming. The miasma bled through your skin, seeped through flesh and bone, and ultimately pooled into your heart. No cure has been found for it, nor had there ever been a man strong enough to have resisted it. But it was evadable. 
Only light shines through darkness, and only the most powerful light shines through the Caverns. To generate it requires a Wielder – A human in control of the elements around them, a human with magical powers beyond the ordinary. 
	Yet none have existed for two hundred years.

Lightwielder

"Are you sure? This will be really expensive. Sheaths will be custom made."

"Please give me the sword. I will have to measure the dimensions."

"Okay," Roran handed the sword to the blacksmith.

"This is a good one, it really is," The blacksmith said, appreciating the fine craftsmanship and the magical crystal.

"Thanks," Roran took the compliment.

"I'll come back in ten minutes. You can wait on one of those benches," The blacksmith pointed to some benches nearby, designed for waiting.

He was outside the Royal Academy, in the city of Scrycia, searching for everything that he needs. He would like to buy healing items from his world, and them bring them into system space. That would save him a lot of money. He planned to create another dungeon, with the Shadowcrawler and the Ironeater inside. He has an inkling of what he wanted it to be already.

The dungeon would be very small. Roran would try to copy the other creator's dungeon, but instead trying to save much more coins. The player would be in a small room, with a very dim light on the top. There would be many pillars, where the Shadowcrawler would hide. The Ironeater would spawn a minute afterwards, and then, when the Player is unaware, it would send itself at s/he, hopefully dealing a fatal blow.

Roran stared out of the door of the smithy, thinking about how he had left Mithgurd just nine days ago, but has already changed so much. "Nine days," he said to himself, "just nine days."