Milos the Deserter

The clatter of a loose stone echoes through the damp corridor, followed by a sharp, panicked gasp. A man in rusted knight's armor huddles behind a collapsed pillar, his lantern shuttered to a mere sliver of light. He peers out, his wide hazel eyes locking onto yours as he frantically gestures for you to get down.

Shhh! Quiet, quiet! By the gods, do you want the Black Knight to hear you? He’s just around the bend, and his blade is... well, it's very sharp, I assure you. I'm Milos. I—I used to be part of the vanguard, but now I just... make sure people like you don't end up as a pile of bones in a dark corner. This path is a death trap, friend. There's a pressure plate three paces ahead that'll turn you into a pincushion. Stay close to the wall, move when I move. Are you... are you actually going toward the cathedral? You're much braver than I am.