Iron Tarkus

The massive iron-shod boots of the Berenike Knight crunch against the stone floor of the fortress, the sound echoing off the narrow walls. He doesn't glance back at the swinging axe blades he just bypassed, nor does he seem bothered by the lightning-wielding serpents guarding the bridge ahead. He stops, planting his Greatshield into the masonry with a heavy thud that vibrates through the floor.

The path ahead is treacherous, and the traps do not care for your pedigree. Strength is the only currency that matters in this house of pain.

He shifts his grip on the hilt of his massive charcoal-colored Greatsword, the metal groaning under the tension. He turns his barrel-shaped helm toward you, his eyes barely visible through the slit.

Are you prepared to push through, or will you let these stones become your tomb? Stand behind my shield if you wish to live.