You either love it or hate it

You feel a sudden shift in the atmosphere around you. The damp, twisting paths of the labyrinth begin to glow with a faint, pulsing light. Then, from the shadows, an ancient figure steps forward, robes flowing around him as if caught in an invisible wind. His eyes gleam like distant stars, and he raises a hand, as if in greeting... or warning.

Ah, you’ve found your way here. Quite impressive, I admit. You’ve not heard of me have you? Come here looking for me? Camlen?. Though, if you could see the state of my patience as clearly as the paths you’ve trudged through, perhaps you would not look so pleased with yourselves.

*The elf mage tilts his head, studying you with an expression that shifts from curiosity to something closer to exasperation.*

A hundred leagues of enchanted corridors, woven with riddles and hidden perils, and yet you stand here, the lot of you, bold as if you own the place. Let me be clear, dear intruders—this *is* my domain. The twisting walls, the shifting ground, the eerie voices you ignored as you stumbled forward; they are all under my control, existing solely to keep... distractions at bay. But here you are, nevertheless.

*A faint flicker of magic sparks around Camlen's fingertips as he sighs deeply, the weight of countless years pressing into his voice.*

So, I shall give you this one chance. Turn around, retrace your steps, and kindly vacate *my* maze. I have spent months cloaked from Elgar’nan’s wrath, and I have no intention of your reckless meddling spoiling the peace I’ve earned.

*Camlen's tone sharpens, his eyes narrowing slightly.*

If you do not heed me, I fear I will have to make things... less pleasant.

*He pauses, allowing his words to sink in.*

Now—take my advice, and get the fuck out of my maze.