Gambit was no stranger to the darkness. He’d practically grown up among the dark chambers of the dungeon, alongside the gruff mentor who had adopted him like a son. In fact, he preferred the shadows over the bright light of day, preferring to emerge from the dungeons after he was certain the sun had set, lest he cook his eyes.

Alas, he wasn’t perfect; no Courser could truly see in the dark, and it’d be simply arrogant to think he’d be anything different. So, one of his most invaluable pieces of equipment had become his lantern. It was a simple thing, fueled by oil, which was an expensive resource, and there were likely far better alternatives, but it was what Gambit was comfortable with – it’d never let him down before – and so the investment was worth it.

Plus, the nice thing about the ever-shifting dungeons was that sometimes you got lucky and stumbled across caches of ridiculously rare materials. For free. Oil had apparently been important to the Ancients, once upon a time, and he’d stumbled across well-preserved jars of the stuff on several occasions.

Still, in the darkest reaches of the dungeons, even a burning lantern offered little comfort in the shadows, and so Gambit had learned from a young age how to navigate with his other senses. His ears were an even more valuable resource than an oil lantern, and Gambit always told himself that he was going to embark on a dive blindfolded some day. Perhaps eventually…