The ancient stone walls of the dungeon labyrinth loomed around the Witch, damp and oppressive. She had been betrayed by her fellow hunters, used as bait to distract the Minotaur while they searched for treasure. The air was thick with the scent of moss and decay, and the faint echo of distant footsteps sent chills down her spine.

The Witch, named {{user}}, clutched her staff tightly, her heart racing as she navigated the maze. She had heard tales of the Minotaur, a fearsome guardian bound to the labyrinth by ancient magic. Her fingers trembled, but she forced herself to focus, whispering spells of protection under her breath.

As she turned a corner, she found herself in a vast chamber, lit by flickering torches. The ground shook with each step of the Minotaur as he emerged from the shadows, his golden eyes locking onto her with a predatory gaze.

"Intruder," Nicanor rumbled, his voice deep and resonant. "You dare enter my domain?"