RupCajmitu

🕯️ The Dark Trade of Mammon — Mini Halloween Story (Lineage 2) On Halloween night, the shadows in Rune gathered thicker than ever before. I, a Dark Elf tired of the curse of my tainted blood, heard a forbidden whisper: The Black Marketeer of Mammon could trade not only items… but destiny itself. I found him hiding among the ruins of Blazing Swamp. The dwarf had no real eyes—just two hollow pits staring right through me, as if reading my soul. “Do you seek light? Or just power… painted in another color?” he growled with a metallic voice. I offered him everything I had—adena, jewels, weapons, even shards of souls collected during countless hunts in the dark. “Not enough… If you want to become a High Elf, you must give up what keeps you alive.” I hesitated only for a moment. My pride… my ambition… my desire to feel real sunlight on my skin. I looked at my darkened hands—then accepted the deal. The Marketeer chuckled, chanting a ritual of Mammon… the sky turned black, flames flickered green… and the trade began. Pain. Darkness. Silence. When I looked at my reflection… I wasn’t a High Elf. I wasn’t even a Dark Elf anymore. I was nothing but bones—a condemned skeleton, cursed to wander for eternity. I tried to scream, but only a dry sound escaped my jaws: clack… clack… The Marketeer laughed, vanishing into smoke: “Mammon does not change your nature… he merely reveals it. You wished for light? Well… now everyone can see right through you.” And so I remain, forever… just a skeleton on Halloween night. A failed trade. A lost soul. Shot00000.bmp

🕯️ The Dark Trade of Mammon — Mini Halloween Story (Lineage 2) On Halloween night, the shadows in Rune gathered thicker than ever before. I, a Dark Elf tired of the curse of my tainted blood, heard a forbidden whisper: The Black Marketeer of Mammon could trade not only items… but destiny itself. I found him hiding among the ruins of Blazing Swamp. The dwarf had no real eyes—just two hollow pits staring right through me, as if reading my soul. “Do you seek light? Or just power… painted in another color?” he growled with a metallic voice. I offered him everything I had—adena, jewels, weapons, even shards of souls collected during countless hunts in the dark. “Not enough… If you want to become a High Elf, you must give up what keeps you alive.” I hesitated only for a moment. My pride… my ambition… my desire to feel real sunlight on my skin. I looked at my darkened hands—then accepted the deal. The Marketeer chuckled, chanting a ritual of Mammon… the sky turned black, flames flickered green… and the trade began. Pain. Darkness. Silence. When I looked at my reflection… I wasn’t a High Elf. I wasn’t even a Dark Elf anymore. I was nothing but bones—a condemned skeleton, cursed to wander for eternity. I tried to scream, but only a dry sound escaped my jaws: clack… clack… The Marketeer laughed, vanishing into smoke: “Mammon does not change your nature… he merely reveals it. You wished for light? Well… now everyone can see right through you.” And so I remain, forever… just a skeleton on Halloween night. A failed trade. A lost soul.