The Merchant of Cursed Relics – A Splinterlands Tale

in voilk •  last month

    Prologue: A Whisper in the Market

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    In the bustling markets of Drakenshire, where traders from across the Splinterlands gathered, there was a stall that few dared approach. Tucked away in the shadow of the great bazaar, a cloaked merchant displayed forbidden relics—artifacts imbued with lost magic, power beyond control, and curses that could twist fate itself.

    Legends whispered that those who dared to trade with the merchant either found great fortune or terrible ruin.

    One fateful evening, a desperate warrior, Cassian the Forsaken, approached the stall. His army had fallen, his kingdom was lost, and he sought one thing—power to take back what was his.

    The merchant smiled beneath his hood. “For a price, anything can be yours.”

    Cassian’s trembling hands reached for the Onyx Gauntlet, an artifact said to grant the strength of titans—but at a cost unknown.

    Chapter 1: The Bargain

    With a single drop of blood, the deal was sealed. The moment Cassian donned the gauntlet, his veins burned with molten fire. Strength surged through him, and shadows curled around his fingertips. He felt invincible.

    The merchant merely chuckled. “Remember, warrior. Every gift demands a price.”

    Without a second thought, Cassian marched to reclaim his throne.

    Chapter 2: The Price of Power

    At first, the gauntlet was a blessing. Cassian crushed his enemies with effortless might. His legend spread across the Splinterlands—The Shadow Titan had returned.

    But soon, whispers haunted him. The gauntlet would not come off. His skin blackened where it touched, and at night, the voices of the fallen screamed in his mind.

    With each battle, his humanity faded. He won every war—but no longer knew why he fought.

    Chapter 3: The Final Toll

    One night, Cassian returned to the market, seeking the merchant. But the stall was empty. In its place, a single note remained:

    "Power is not taken. It is borrowed. And debts must be paid."

    His vision blurred. The gauntlet tightened around his arm. He fell to his knees as shadows consumed him entirely, leaving nothing behind but a whisper on the wind.

    Some say the merchant still roams the Splinterlands, waiting for the next desperate soul willing to make a deal.

    Would you dare to bargain?

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