Forgotten Lore (Updated M-W-F)

[Lazybones]

Chapter 16

The monster was chasing Bredan through a dark forest.

He could hear it behind him, the harsh rasp of its breathing punctuated by rhythmic thuds of its claws tearing into the ground with each long stride. He couldn’t look back, didn’t dare shift his attention from the uneven ground ahead of him, but he could tell that it was getting closer.

Gnarled black trees with branches like deformed limbs rose up all around him. But they offered no hope of shelter; he already knew that if he tried to climb one it would crumble into ash. There was already a thick layer of it under his feet, slowing him just a little bit with each step he took.

The monster, apparently, had no such difficulties.

He didn’t have a weapon, and there was nothing around him with which he could defend himself. The trees didn’t leave anything behind but ash, and there were no stones, nothing he could pick up to try to hold off his pursuer. All he could do was keep running.

And then the forest ended, and a sharp cliff of crumbling stone rose up ahead of him. The cliff curved inward to his left and right, as if it had been set here as a trap, to pen him in.

As he looked around for a possible route of escape he saw the monster.

It had slowed down, confident now that its prey was trapped. It was a horrid combination of creatures. It had the furry, muscled body of a bear, down to the sharp curving claws that left gashes in the ashen soil with each step. But its head was insectoid, with huge multi-faced eyes and snapping mandibles that framed a mouth that dripped terrible acidic goo. It had a long snout that terminated in a point that stirred a memory, a hint that something wasn’t quite right.

But he didn’t get a chance to think it over as the monstrosity charged at him.

He ran toward the cliff, hoping against hope that he could climb it. But even as he placed his hands on the rock they crumbled at his touch, and he slumped back down. The rest of the cliff remained unflinchingly solid, offering no escape.

He turned around, his eyes wide, his mouth opening to scream. But before the sound could escape him he felt the bug-bear’s long proboscis plunging into his belly, deeper and deeper…

* * *

Bredan’s eyes flashed open as pain jolted through his stomach. He reached down to grasp at the shaft he’d felt impaling him, but there was nothing there, just his coat and the layer of armor underneath it. Even as his addled brain took that in the pain faded and he sucked in a deep breath. Looking up, he saw that Kosk was standing over him, his staff in his hand.

“You fell asleep,” the dwarf said. His voice was like the iron that covered the ends of his staff, hard and unyielding.

Bredan blinked and looked around. The camp was as he remembered it from the night before, when Quellan had woken him to stand his watch. The others were just stirring from their bedrolls. It was morning, though early enough that the sun hadn’t yet made its appearance above the horizon.

Morning.

His watch.

He’d fallen asleep.

“Sorry…” he mumbled as he started to get up. But Kosk’s staff flashed out, intercepting him. Bredan flinched, but the end stopped just short of impact, instead just pushing lightly into his chest.

“Sorry?” the dwarf asked. “You fell asleep on watch. It’s only blind luck that we weren’t all killed while you took your rest. Or have you forgotten the events of yesterday?”

“I said I was sorry,” Bredan said. That was as much to Glori and Quellan as to the dwarf, as the others had roused themselves enough to follow the exchange. Glori tugged her blanket around her body to ward off the morning chill.

“Sorry won’t keep you alive out here,” the dwarf said with disgust. He pulled down his staff and started to walk away.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t the one that set a pace that left us all worn down and exhausted,” Bredan said. “I made a mistake, and I own that, but damn it, we’re not made of iron.”

The dwarf turned back slowly, and from the look in his eyes there was a battle brewing there, but Quellan quickly intervened, stepping between them. Kosk said, “You’d be better off letting us clear this up once and for all, lad. This boy needs some sense pounded into him.”

“Fine with me,” Bredan snarled back. “I’m not a rock, I’ll fight back.”

“While I admit that I would take a certain pleasure in watching you two beat the living crap out of each other, this is neither the time nor the place,” Quellan said. “We have a lot more to do today than…”

He trailed off as soft music filled the clearing. The three men turned to see Glori sitting on the stones at the edge of their camp, her lyre cradled in her lap. The bard continued her playing, her fingers dancing over the strings of the instrument, her plectrum plucking out the notes. The melody started slowly, soft and almost sad, but it quickly built in pace and intensity. She added a martial tone, evocative of soldiers preparing themselves for battle. That passage transitioned into a march, the sharp notes sounding like the endless trudging of booted feet over a long road. But under that cadence something else was growing, a buildup of energy toward an inevitable confrontation. Just when it seemed that the song would erupt in a clash of arms the melody shifted once more, returning the long plaintive sounds of calm and peace with which she had started. The sense of loss that had been present then was now almost palpable, the notes full of regret and sadness.

When she finally finished the three men just stood there watching her. Bredan had heard her place that piece of music before; she’d called it “Alephron’s Regret.” But here, on a dim morning in the middle of nowhere, it had sounded completely different than it had when played in the background of a busy tavern. For a moment he’d thought he was actually there, marching along with Alephron and his armies to the final confrontation with the Dead King.

From the looks on their faces their other companions had been likewise affected. Quellan’s eyes glistened with a bright sheen. “That was…” the cleric began, but he couldn’t finish the thought.

Glori tucked her pick into one of the high pockets of her coat, then took in a deep breath and let it out with a sigh before hopping suddenly to her feet.

“All right, who’s ready to start the day?” she said.

The sun had risen when they finally set out, though it remained hidden behind low clouds that promised another gloomy day. They deliberately avoided the old woman’s camp, but they had no difficulty finding the trail that led up to the cleft in the side of the bluff. The ascent was steep but manageable. They encountered a few places where loose rocks made the climb treacherous, but Kosk’s adage about the usefulness of rope proved true and they were able to manage that portion of the route without anything more serious than a few skinned knees.

Once they actually made it into the cleft the trail leveled out some, which was helpful given that the weak sunlight all but disappeared. As they passed out of the light into the narrow interior of the cleft Bredan felt a moment of panic; the shadowed shaft reminded him vividly of the dark landscape of his dream. But after a moment that premonition eased, and once his eyes adjusted he could see enough to make his way forward.

Glori paused, perhaps sensing that something was wrong. Looking back, she asked, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Though I’m finding myself envious of your eyes.”

She smiled. “We could light torches…”

“No, I’m fine for now. I’ll let you know if it becomes a problem.”

“You lovebirds coming?” Kosk’s voice drifted down from above. It had been perhaps too much to hope that the dwarf might have eased his hurried pace a bit now that they were creeping up the side of a mountain toward who knows what, Bredan thought.

The two hurried to catch up but found that their companions were waiting for them not far ahead. Just beyond them the cleft narrowed until the two sides came together in an abrupt stop. Above them the cleft extended for another hundred feet to the summit of the bluff, but one look at the sheer cliffs was enough to dissuade them from any interest in that direction.

But there was no need to climb; their destination was just ahead.

At the spot where the facing cliffs met there was a dark opening that led into the interior of the bluff. It was definitely man-made; Bredan could just make out the outline of roughly-hewn steps that led up to it, and it was framed by massive lintel stones that were too smooth and regular to be a natural feature. He wondered at the effort that would have been required to build this place, so far isolated from any outpost of civilization. Or had it been magic that had done this, magic of the sort that had brought them here in the first place?

He was so intent on his musing that he didn’t hear what Kosk had said. “What?” Bredan asked. He turned to see that the dwarf—and the others—were unslinging their packs.

The monk shot him a look, but he thankfully didn’t comment on his woolgathering. “I said, leave your packs and all your heavy gear. Bedrolls, extra clothes, pots and pans, any food that’s not ready-to-eat.”

Bredan looked up and down the length of the cleft. There were plenty of places where a pack or a few loose articles might be stashed, but between the four of them… “But what if someone steals our stuff?” he asked.

“If you get caught in a trap or can’t maneuver in a fight, you’ll have a much bigger problem,” Kosk said.

“We’ll bring plenty of torches, so you can see,” Quellan said. “And if it comes to it, I can summon light with my magic.”

Bredan carefully unslung his pack and found a spot for it in the rocks where it might not be immediately visible to someone coming by. He had to admit that he’d gotten rather attached to Kesren’s creation, even though it was a relief to get its weight off his back. He reached inside and took out a few canvas-wrapped torches that he tucked into his belt.

He hesitated over the crossbow. He had no idea what they would find beyond that dark opening, but he had a pretty good idea that it would involve close quarters. On the other hand, too close and he wouldn’t have room to use his sword. Finally he took the bow and the case of bolts; he could always leave them somewhere if they proved too cumbersome and pick them up on the way out.

He paused again when he came upon his set of tools. Obviously they wouldn’t be doing any smithing here, but he could think of a lot of other situations where the various metalworking instruments could come in handy. And they were easily contained in the leather wrap that his uncle had given him, which came with its own carrying strap.

He glanced up and saw that the others were all not only ready, but they were all watching him. He flushed and quickly slung the leather wrap across his opposite shoulder where it wouldn’t interfere with his baldric. “Ready,” he said.

“Shouldn’t you load that thing?” Quellan asked, indicating the crossbow.

“No,” Bredan and Kosk said simultaneously. When Kosk just growled Bredan quickly added, “A small draw-operated bow like this, it can’t take the long-term strain on the string and arms that a heavier winch-operated bow can. Keeping it drawn too long will damage both the strength and accuracy of the weapon.”

“Well, you’re the expert,” the half-orc said. He took out a torch and a piece of flint, and with a few strikes on the flanges of his mace got the pitch head burning. He picked up his shield and led the way toward the dark opening, with Kosk just behind him. Glori and Bredan followed close behind.

The dark opening seemed to drink up the light of the torch, revealing its secrets only reluctantly. They saw a passage that curved to the left before straightening for as far as the light extended. The walls and ceiling were stone worked smooth, and there were only a few scattered bits of rock in the entry before the route forward cleared.

The cleric stepped forward warily, shining the torch around before proceeding. Kosk gave the stone blocks to each side a good look, tapping them with his staff.

“Do you really think there will be a trap right at the entrance?” Glori asked.

Kosk growled something unintelligible, and Quellan explained, “I think we’re better off assuming that everything’s a trap until proven otherwise.”

Bredan remained a few steps back so that he wouldn’t get in the others’ way. But as he waited he detected something, a sharp scent of something burning that at first he blamed on the cleric’s torch. But the scent deepened, adding a sulphurous tinge that he recognized from the forge—that smell was a sign of bad coal that wasn’t going to be good for heating metal. He had no idea what it meant here, but he instinctively knew that it wasn’t good.

Looking around, he saw something that he’d missed initially. To the left of the entrance, partially hidden behind the mass of the stone that framed the opening, there was a small crevice in the rock, extending under the lintel. The smell seemed to be coming from that crevice, and as he bent lower to take a closer look he saw that it actually went on for quite a ways, widening a bit beyond that initial gap.

“Um… guys…” he began.

Two red points suddenly materialized within the depths of the crevice, accompanied by a low growl.

“Guys!” Bredan warned. He stumbled back while reaching for the hook to cock the crossbow. “I think I found the guardian!”

The others turned quickly to look, but even as Quellan lowered the torch toward the crevice a mass of fur and claws and fury exploded out of the opening and attacked.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 17

Quellan reacted instinctively, thrusting his torch into the snapping jaws of the creature. The monster bit down on it, splattering burning pitch all over its face. That would have given a normal beast pause, but the flames didn’t seem to have any effect on this… whatever it was. With its violent thrashing all Quellan could make out was that it was broad with stubby legs and had black fur. And powerful jaws full of very big teeth, of course.

The creature thrust itself up to attack again, but before it could engage with teeth or claws Glori slid over to the side and shot it in the flank with her bow. The beast roared and spun to face her, but Quellan moved quickly to keep it penned into the narrow space of the crevice, slamming down his shield to block its progress. He could feel the impacts shoot up its arm as its claws tore into the layers of wooden boards. It took all his effort to hold onto the shield and he had no chance to try to grab his mace. The half-orc tried to plant his feet to hold it back but he was still driven back a full step, then two as the creature continued its furious assault. With a rasp it snapped one claw up over the rim of the shield, and he knew he couldn’t hold it much longer.

“On your right!” Kosk said, and Quellan shifted slightly to give the dwarf access to his foe. The monk snapped his staff into the creature’s skull, but if the blow hurt the thing it gave no obvious sign. Instead it twisted its head around suddenly and seized hold of the end of the weapon in its heavy jaws. It pulled back with equal fury, so fast that Kosk was drawn in before he could let go. Even as the staff flipped up into the air the creature lunged at him with its claws, trying to trap the dwarf underneath its bulk. But Kosk spun and drove a hard punch into its snout, knocking it back just enough for him to dart back out of its reach.

Now driven into a wild frenzy, the creature thrust forward again, knocking Quellan roughly aside and nearly catching Kosk despite his quick retreat. But as the monk escaped it turned on the cleric, who had no chance to bring his shield back around. The creature opened its jaws impossibly wide then lunged to snap them around Quellan’s exposed leg.

Quellan flinched, but before the monster could seize him it was struck from behind by Bredan. The smith’s huge sword impaled it through the back, driving down until the tip scraped against the hard stone beneath it. For a moment it looked like even that wouldn’t stop it, as it reared back in an attempt to bite its tormentor, but then with a last spasm that shook all of its limbs it crumpled and fell still.

For a moment they all just stood there staring down at the carcass, as if half-expecting it to get back up again and resume its assault.

“Is everyone all right?” Quellan asked. “Did anyone get hurt?”

“I think we’re all okay,” Kosk said. He prodded the thing’s head with his foot while Bredan stepped onto its back and yanked his sword free. Now that it was dead they could see what it was: a giant badger, in death remarkable only for its size. But there had been nothing normal in the way it had attacked, or in the way its eyes had glowed red when it had first lunged up out of the crevice where it made its den.

“That thing… it wasn’t quite right,” Glori said with a shudder.

“You can say that again,” Bredan said. He glanced over at Kosk as if expecting a comment, but the dwarf gave the dead creature one last look before walking over to where his staff had fallen. He checked the wood, which had a few fresh gouges near one end but otherwise seemed to be intact.

“Let’s go,” he said.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 18

Quellan had no difficulty admitting to himself that he was afraid. Introspection was a skill that was strongly encouraged within the clergy of Hosrenu, and his particular circumstances had made him especially aware of his own perceptions. And there was plenty of reason to be concerned, he thought. Starfinder’s notes had indicated that the Eth’barat trafficked in magic from the Outer Planes, including summoned guardians. He didn’t know if that badger had been such or if it had just been an unfortunate beast that had become tainted by the power that resided here. He wasn’t sure which scenario he preferred; either was quite disquieting.

So he had no difficulty acknowledging his fear, but he made a strong effort to conceal it from his companions. Not out of any sense of bravado; Quellan resisted any behavior that struck him as “orcish.” But he felt like he had to project an air of stability to protect the group from the discord that seemed to be threatening their common cause. He had always preferred to avoid conflict, but here their ability to pull together as a team might be a matter of survival.

He was reminded of that in a stark manner as they made their way into the interior of the ancient shrine. He was in the lead, the light from a fresh torch pushing back the darkness, but they’d barely managed ten steps past the entrance he was greeted with a familiar smell. He stopped. The torchlight revealed that the passage opened onto a larger room ahead, but he couldn’t make out any details of what might be inside.

“Ugh, what’s that stink?” Glori asked.

Quellan knew the answer, but he let Kosk answer. “Death,” the dwarf said.

The smell grew stronger as they approached the room. The source of it was revealed when the light extended into the chamber.

Death was right, the cleric thought. The bodies—six of them, he counted—were scattered through the room. They were all hacked up, a gory mess, and he might not have been able to identify them if the old woman hadn’t warned them to look out for bugbears. They were imposing even in death, bigger even than the half-orc. Some of them still held bloody weapons in their hands, suggesting that they might have managed a few hits against whoever or whatever had killed them.

“What is it?” Glori asked. “What’s there?”

At the bard’s prompt Quellan stepped forward and to the side, clearing the entry so the others could see. Glori sucked in a startled breath as she took in the scene. Bredan looked pale, and Quellan wondered if he had ever seen death, violent death, up close like this before. Kosk took a more practical approach, prodding at the nearest body with his staff. That one had finally succumbed just a few steps from the entry, leaving behind a trail of blood that extended halfway across the room.

“What killed them?” Bredan asked. No one had an answer, but Quellan couldn’t shake a feeling that there was something wrong here, a sinister mystery he couldn’t quite identify.

Tearing his attention from the dead bugbears, the cleric examined the rest of the room. The place was oddly shaped, with angular walls that collectively formed a rough hexagon. The passage entered on one of the points. There was another similar passage on the far side of the room, though the torchlight didn’t extend far enough for him to see where it led.

More remarkable were the faces embedded in the walls. They were stone carvings, four of them, though a scatter of rubble under an uneven patch of wall suggested that there might have once been five. The stone faces were each about two feet high and only bore the vaguest features. But they were all subtly different, and as Quellan studied them he realized that they had been crafted to each represent a different emotional state, from joy and sadness to pain and anger. He idly wondered what the fifth one had depicted.

Kosk had finished his examination of the first dead bugbear and started forward into the room. “Careful,” Quellan said.

The dwarf shrugged. “If we aren’t going to turn back then the only way left is forward,” he said. But it was clear that he too was wary of the place, and he placed each foot carefully as he circled the chamber. The others followed him in, just as slowly.

“Those faces… they’re creepy,” Bredan said.

Glori gave one a closer look. “They just look like solid stone.” She reached out as if to touch it—the carving showing the drooping face of sadness—but then turned back to the corpses clustered in the middle of the room.

“No bugs,” Bredan said suddenly.

The smith’s words stirred an awareness in Quellan’s mind—he was right, the room was devoid of the crawling and flying vermin that should have accompanied this much death. And for that matter, while the bodies did stink, the stench should have been much worse given the confined space and the length of time they’d been here, assuming the old woman’s account had been accurate. It was as if the decay that naturally followed death was being held at bay here in this place.

Kosk finished his circuit of the room and returned to the bodies in the center. He grabbed hold of one by its armor, and with a grunt of effort lifted it up off the ground. Neither he nor any of the others spotted the gleaming axe that was pinned under its torso, and when Glori said, “Hey, over here,” he released the dead bugbear and went over to where she was bent over another of the corpses.

“What is it?” Bredan asked.

“This one’s belt buckle. Silver, solid silver. Might be worth twenty, thirty golds.”

Kosk frowned, “We shouldn’t be worried about loot, we should be worried about what killed these bastards.”

“We can worry about both things simultaneously,” Glori said, cutting the buckle free with her knife and tucking it into her belt pouch.

“There’s nothing else here,” Bredan said. “It’s almost like…”

He trailed off, but Quellan prodded. “What? What’s it like?”

The smith swallowed. “It’s almost like they hacked each other to pieces.”

“We should be moving on,” Kosk said. But when the dwarf turned he just stood there, staring at the four stone faces. Some of them were damaged, Quellan saw, chipped as if someone had tried to do to them what had happened to the mysterious missing fifth face.

Seized by a sudden premonition, Quellan stepped back to the entry. As he passed through the transition between the room and the passage he felt something, a faint tingle on his skin, just a slight pressure holding him back. It wasn’t enough to stop him, but he felt a cold feeling of dread in his guts as he turned to see the others all looking at him.

“What’s the matter, Quellan?” Glori asked.

“Try to leave,” he said to them. “Either that doorway, or this one.”

Kosk walked over to the far passage with purpose, but he came to a sudden stop right on the edge of the room. “I… I can’t,” he said. “I want to go, I just… I can’t take that extra step.”

Bredan and Glori went over to join Quellan at the entrance. “I can’t either,” Glori said. Her words were echoed on Bredan’s face. “Maybe you can drag us out,” the smith suggested. “Or knock us out…”

“I don’t think there’s time for that,” Kosk said as he came back toward them. The dwarf’s expression was a hard grimace, and he clutched his staff with fingers that were white with tension.

“What’s going on?” Glori said. “What’s happening?” Whatever the monk was feeling, she clearly was feeling it too as her eyes flicked back and forth wildly, darting from the stone faces to those of her companions.

“Ask them,” Bredan said, nodding toward the dead bugbears.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 19

Kosk’s lips tightened in a snarl and he let out a low growl as he raised his staff and leapt to the attack.

Glori flinched back as the iron-shot staff slammed hard into its target. The attacks kept coming, one after another, the head of the staff striking like a snake. She threw up her hands to protect her face as shards of stone shot past. “Ahh!” she yelled. “What’s he doing?”

“The faces,” Quellan said, as the dwarf continued smashing one of the stone masks embedded into the walls. “It’s the faces!”

Bredan turned to another of the stone faces. To him it seemed like the exaggerated expression of joy was mocking him. He realized with a start that he had his sword bare in his hands; he did not remember drawing it. He’d almost swung it, though that would have likely only shattered the steel. Trying to clear his head, he let the sword fall and reached for his tools.

On realizing his companion’s plan Quellan took out his mace and went to work on the stone face showing pain. He felt a jolt ring up his arm as he struck it, but nothing otherwise as he started methodically smashing the carving. Martial notes filled the air as Glori, realizing she had nothing useful for stone-crushing, strummed her lute. The song was evocative of the march she’d played that morning, the orderly structure of its melody helping to counter the discordant effects of the masks. Within a few moments her companions’ blows all synchronized to the music, a regular harmonic beat that was offset by the patter of shards bouncing off the walls or floor.

The stone faces might have lasted for centuries, but against the determined assault of three strong men they could not stand. Kosk was the first to complete his destruction, but as his mask shattered into fragments a pulse of mental energy erupted through the room. All four adventurers staggered back, clutching their heads.

“What… what was that?” Glori asked.

“Maybe… maybe the energy of the spell being discharged?” Quellan ventured. “Can you leave?”

Glori was nearest the exit, and she crossed to it in a flash. “No,” she said after a moment.

“More work to do, then,” Kosk muttered, lifting his staff again.

“Wait, just wait!” Quellan said. “I’m not sure how many of those pulses we can withstand.”

“You can get out,” the monk said. “Go wait outside, if you can’t handle it.”

“It’s not that I can’t handle it,” the half-orc said.

Glori idly dropped a hand to her lute, and as her fingertips brushed the strings Kosk turned to her. “And you can lay off that bloody racket! I can’t hear myself bloody think with all the noise you make!”

“It’s not my fault you have the artistic perceptions of a toadstool!” Glori shot back.

“You’re starting to get on my nerves!” Kosk shouted. Without realizing it he’d taken a step closer to her, leaving just a narrow gap between them.

“Leave her alone!” Quellan roared.

Bredan let out a wild yell and threw himself back at his mask with a fury that briefly shocked the others out of their argument. With a chisel in one hand and a small hammer in the other he rained down blows on the stone face. Dust swirled into his face and covered his clothes, and for a moment he could hardly see, but he kept on delivering precise strikes. Before any of the others could intervene there was another loud, ominous crack, and they all tensed in anticipation of another wave of pain. That pulse came, but it was weaker this time and its effects quickly faded.

Bredan was already staggering toward the next mask, looking like some sort of ghoul with the pale dust covering his upper body, but before he could resume his attack Quellan intervened. “Wait… I think that might be it,” he said. “Try it now.”

Glori ventured to the exit once more, and this time she was able to step into the far passage without difficulty. “It’s okay,” she said. “It worked.”

“That…” Quellan said. “It was just the magic, it wasn’t us.”

“I know,” Glori said, with a look at Kosk. The monk was holding onto his staff tightly, staring down at his fists clenched around the wooden shaft. The others all watched him until he let out a breath and let his hands fall. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“No harm done,” Glori said.

Bredan took a steadying breath of his own as he replaced his tools in their case. He started toward his sword, but Kosk beat him to it. The smith looked suspicious for a moment as the dwarf lifted his weapon, but Kosk only slid it back into its scabbard and offered it to him. “Well done,” he said.

“Thanks,” Bredan said as he accepted the sword. He started to move past the dwarf, but Kosk interrupted him by asking, “Was it my face you saw? When you were smashing the stone?”

Bredan’s face cracked into a small smile. “Maybe.”

“Let’s get out of here, okay?” Quellan suggested.

“Aye, let’s see what other creative ways these Barat bastards have to try to kill us,” Kosk said.

They left the room but did not get very far. The new passage only extended for about twenty feet before it turned suddenly and ended in a solid wall.

“Um… dead end?” Glori asked.

“Don’t give up so easy,” Kosk said. He slipped past Quellan and examined the wall, running his fingertips over the surface. “This was built later than the rest of the place. Masonry work, and done in a hurry I’d guess.” He flicked a piece of mortar clear with his thumbnail and gave the wall a tap with his staff. “I expect the boy could chip us a passage fairly quick.”

“I wonder who built it, and why?” Glori asked. “To keep folks out… or to keep something in?”

“Like what?” Bredan asked. “Some kind of monster? Another guardian?”

“There’s no way of knowing,” Quellan said. “But the fact that someone went through this amount of effort suggests that there’s [/i]something[/i] important behind this wall.”

Kosk shrugged. “None of that matters. If we’re going to do what we came here to do it’s an obstacle we need to get through. So unless you want me to do it, time to start hammering, boy.”

The others stepped back and Bredan went to work. The hammer and chisel made a lot of noise, but after the ruckus they’d made back in the entrance chamber they were less worried about drawing unwanted attention. Even so, they took turns keeping an eye on the passage behind them. When Bredan finally knocked an opening through the wall with a clatter of stones they all tensed, half expecting something to jump out at them, but only darkness and stale air greeted them. Working together they quickly widened the breach until it was wide enough for Quellan to slip through. The half-orc bent low and squeezed through the opening, then made room for the others to follow behind.

The passage on the far side of the wall quickly gave way to a narrow stone staircase that wound deeper into the interior of the bluff. Quellan led the way, his torch held high to brighten the way for the others.

The stone steps descended steeply, twisting around upon themselves until they abruptly ended at a landing roughly ten feet square. The small room appeared to be empty, but Quellan’s torch revealed another passage that exited opposite the stairs.

The half-orc paused and glanced back to confirm that his companions were still close behind. Everything seemed well, but as he stepped off the bottom stair onto the floor of the anteroom a demon materialized in front of him and attacked.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 20

The demon only came to half the cleric’s height, but what it lacked in size it made up for in ferocity. It had a hideous appearance, its form roughly humanoid but bloated and bulbous with a sickly gray hide that was covered in oozing sores. Its face was dominated by sagging jaws, and its arms ended in oversized claws that tore into the cleric’s legs before he could get his shield around in defense.

Quellan reflexively smacked it with the torch, but the flames were about as effective as they had been against the fiendish badger earlier. He tried to pull free, but despite his considerable strength the demon held on with a furious will, burying its claws deeper into the cleric’s legs.

With a roar of challenge Kosk leapt off the stairs to come to his friend’s aid. His foot sank deep into the demon’s spongy flesh, but the impact finally knocked it clear of its victim. The fiend flailed for balance before striking the wall of the room, where it stuck there for a moment before it pulled itself free and started forward again.

Quellan tossed his shield down and pulled out his mace, but even as he turned toward the demon their situation grew more difficult. As soon as Kosk’s feet touched the floor a second demon identical to the first appeared in a puff of black smoke right in front of the dwarf. It too immediately attacked. Kosk drove his staff into its belly, but it simply absorbed the impact and lashed out with a claw that drew bloody gashes across the monk’s forearm.

Glori had her bow out but couldn’t get a clear shot with the bulk of the cleric blocking the bottom of the staircase. Bredan pushed past her, his sword in his hand, but even as he started down the last few steps Quellan yelled, “Don’t leave the stairs! More of them may appear!” Bredan caught himself just in time, grabbing hold of the adjacent wall for balance. His boot swung out over the last step before it found stable purchase again on the bottom step. With both demons out of reach he retreated back a few steps before reaching for his crossbow.

Quellan met the first demon’s renewed charge, smashing it in the head. The blow would have crushed the skull of a normal creature, and it did stagger the demon, but somehow it still clung to life. It lunged at him again, its claws scraping on the iron scales protecting the cleric’s torso.

Kosk grimaced as blood seeped into the sleeve of his robe. The demon kept pressing him, trying to drag the monk into an embrace where its oversized claws could shred his unarmored body to ribbons. Having learned that its bloated body could absorb impacts he used his staff to keep it at bay, delivering sharp cracks to its face that soon left its already sagging features shattered. For a moment it seemed to fall back, but that was only to collect itself for another leap. With a corner of the room at his back it didn’t look like there was anywhere for the monk to go.

But even as Kosk planted his feet there was a sharp thwip as an arrow from Glori’s bow sank into the demon’s throat. The creature let out an ugly hiss, which became a squeal as Kosk knocked its stubby legs out from under it and drove his staff down into its face with enough force to crush what was left of its brains. The demon’s limbs twitched and then it fell still.

A pace away Quellan had likewise gained the advantage over his adversary. The demon kept attacking despite its injuries, but it just couldn’t overcome the discrepancies of size and strength. Even as it came in again, trying to get a fresh hold on its opponent’s leg the cleric kicked it hard, lifting it into the air and driving it to the hard ground. The demon sprang up quickly from even that rough treatment, but it was only to take a truly crushing blow from Quellan’s mace that relocated its head to roughly the center of its torso. With a final hissing sound it crumpled to the floor.

Bredan raised his bow, having finally gotten the weapon loaded, only to see that the fight was over.

“You’re bleeding,” Glori said as Quellan turned around. Instinct had her reaching for her lyre and starting down the steps before both Bredan caught her. “It’s still dangerous,” he said.

“I will be fine,” Quellan said, invoking another cure wounds spell. As the healing energies flowed through him the bleeding stopped and he let out a steadying breath; the demon’s claws had bitten deep.

The cleric went over to Kosk, who was staring down at the demon he’d slain. The creature was deflating like a waterskin with a deep puncture, and as they watched the thing dissolved into black wisps that quickly faded into nothing. “You should get that treated,” Quellan said, indicating the dwarf’s bloody arm. “My ability to channel the god’s power to heal is spent for the day, but you have the potion, or maybe Glori can—”

“It can wait until you figure out what caused those demons to appear, and whether more of them will pop in when those two come off those steps,” the dwarf said.

Quellan nodded. He tucked his mace back into his belt and held out the torch to play the light out over the floor and walls. He didn’t see anything at first, but after a moment he lifted his free hand and invoked the power of his patron. At his call a cool, steady light erupted from the palm of his hand. When he lowered his hand and that glow shone upon the floor faint silvery runes became visible, a spiral pattern of them that covered most of the surface of the room.

“What is that, some sort of spell diagram?” Glori asked.

“I would presume so,” the cleric said.

“Can you dispel it?” Kosk asked.

Quellan studied the runes for a long moment, then shook his head. “I don’t have that kind of power. But maybe if we disrupt the pattern…”

Kosk nodded. “Your tools, boy. Mind you, stay up there, just toss them to me.”

It only took a few moments for Bredan to get out his hammer and chisel, and a moment later the dwarf was kneeling on the floor where the first demon had appeared. He picked out a spot and random and delivered a hard blow that sent a tiny chip of stone flying. Focusing on the task, Kosk went to work methodically widening the mark.

“What were those things?” Glori asked while they waited.

“Manes,” Quellan said. “The least among demon-kind.”

“Those were the weakest?” Bredan asked with incredulity. “If that’s true, I hope we don’t run into any stronger ones.”

After a moment Kosk got up and started to wipe his brow before remembering that his sleeve was still soaked with blood. He’d cut six gouges in the floor, ruining the spiral pattern of the runes. “Do you think that did it?” he asked the cleric.

“I have no way of knowing,” Quellan said.

“Only one way to find out,” Glori said, but even as she started forward Bredan interjected, “No, let me go.” The bard frowned at his back but didn’t challenge him as he drew his sword and descended to the last step of the staircase. Quellan and Kosk each readied their weapons and stepped back to give the young smith room as he took a deep breath and stepped forward onto the edge of the pattern. When nothing happened they all let out a breath.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Glori said.

“Good thing to keep in mind, though, that a stray step in this place could mean death,” Kosk pointed out. He turned to Quellan as the cleric recovered his shield. The light still shone from his hand, though it dimmed as he closed his fist around the grip of the shield. “If you’re going to stay in the lead, you should give that torch to someone else.”

“I’ll take it,” Glori said.

“I should take it, it’s for my benefit,” Bredan said. “The rest of you don’t have any trouble seeing in the dark.”

“You need your hands free to swing that huge chopper of yours,” Glori said.

“I haven’t had much chance to swing it yet.”

“You killed the badger,” Glori said.

“I hate to interrupt this scintillating conversation, but we do have a cursed, trap-filled dungeon to clear out,” Kosk said. “Take the damn torch and let’s keep moving.”

Glori took the torch and stuck her tongue out at the dwarf’s back as he turned, drawing a grin from Bredan. With the burning brand holding the enveloping darkness tentatively at bay the companions set out again to confront whatever other surprises the long-dead architects of this place had created for them.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 21

They followed the passage that led out from the demon room for about twenty feet before it split, with a side-fork leading off to the left. Quellan chose that direction without discussion, and they made their way down another twenty-foot segment of corridor before it came to an end in front of an imposing-looking stone door.

Glori and the torch were back behind Quellan’s considerable bulk, so the cleric raised his hand and unleashed another beam of light to illuminate the portal. It looked to be a single massive slab of granite, attached to its threshold on giant stone pins rather than hinges. The cleric squeezed to the side so the others could see.

“That doesn’t look very promising,” Glori said. “Should we try the other way?”

“Might as well see if it’s locked while we’re here,” Kosk said. He finished his inspection and then smacked his hands together before positioning himself so his back was at the door and he could push off the threshold and the adjacent wall. “Maybe you’d better give me a hand, boy,” he said.

“I have a name,” Bredan muttered, but he came forward to assist the dwarf. With their disparity in size they were both able to apply their strength to the door.

“On three, now,” Kosk said. After a glance back to make sure Quellan and Glori were ready he said, “One, two, threeee!”

The last word trailed out to a grunt of effort as both men put the full effort of their muscles into moving the door. For a moment it looked as though it was secured somehow, but then with a loud scrape of stone on stone it swung incrementally inward. With that proof that it could be opened they redoubled their efforts. The door seemed to actively resist them until it finally gave way enough to clear the thick threshold. Once it was at that point it was just a matter of time, as they could reach into the gap and use that leverage to pry the door open the rest of the way. It still took the better part of another minute to widen the opening enough to slip through.

Breathing heavily, Kosk and Bredan stumbled forward into the room behind the door. Glori was right behind them, her torch held up to illuminate the chamber. Quellan brought up the rear, grunting as he squeezed sideways to slide his large frame through the narrow gap.

At first they could not see much. The room was roughly fifteen feet wide and twenty feet long. There were no furnishings or other features of note, but as the light of the torch reached the far wall it glinted off of something metallic. A lot of somethings, in fact.

“What’s that?” Bredan asked. He started to take a step in that direction, but Glori stopped him with a warning. “Wait,” she said. She took out her pick and strummed a few notes on her lyre. The song was basic, just the beginnings of a melody, but the lyre began to glow. That glow was answered by an echoing radiance that formed around her, dividing into several motes of soft light that drifted forward as she continued to play.

“Woah,” Bredan said as the dancing lights slipped past him.

The lyre’s spell revealed that the far wall of the room was covered with iron spikes embedded into the stone. The spikes were evenly spaced a few feet apart, and covered the entire wall except for a small space in the center. Resting in that gap was a compact box that also appeared to be embedded in or attached to the wall.

“How much you want to bet that what we’re looking for, or something we need to get to it, is in that box?” Glori asked. She looked at the others, but it was clear that none were going to take that wager.

“There’s no sign that the wall moves,” Bredan said. “There would be scrape marks on the floor if there was some kind of mechanism.”

Kosk shot him a dubious look, but finally said, “You’re not as dim as you seem, boy.”

“He’s actually pretty clever sometimes,” Glori said. “I mean, not about books or stuff like that, but other things.”

“Gee, thanks,” Bredan said dryly.

“I’ll check it out,” Quellan said. But as the half-orc started forward Kosk interrupted him with a raised hand. “Better let me,” the dwarf said. “I’m better at evading if those spikes start shooting across the room or something.”

“Do you want my shield?” the cleric asked.

“I prefer not to get hit at all,” the dwarf replied. “Better get back out of the way, just in case.”

The others withdrew back almost to the door. Glori maintained her spell, keeping the dancing lights in the corners so they clearly illuminated the far wall without obstructing Kosk’s view. The dwarf went forward carefully, alert to whatever trap the Eth’barat might have set here.

But when he finally triggered the trap, it caught him completely by surprise. He was roughly in the middle of the room when from one step to the next the orientation of the room seemed to shift suddenly. Clearly whatever it was wasn’t just in his mind, for as ahead became down he found himself falling.

Straight toward the spikes that marched across the wall—now the floor—ahead of him.

 

[carborundum]

Yikes! Very cool, a weird gravity trap
I just caught up again - great stuff! The group has their differences, but luckily not as aggressively as the bugbears.
Let's see how quickly Kosk van move...

Verstuurd vanaf mijn EVA-L09 met Tapatalk

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks for the post, carborundum! This mod is a mini-adventure I wrote for a 3e group a few years back, I've updated it for 5e and I'll post it once (if?) our fictional adventurers make it through.

* * *

Chapter 22

“Kosk!” Glori shouted, but there was nothing any of them could do to help him.

Without anything to grab onto, there was nothing the dwarf could do to arrest his flight. He had a mental flash that he’d been stupid not to take a rope with him, or to toss a coin or an iron spike across the room first—anything but walk like an idiot right into the trap. But that insight lasted only an instant before it was replaced by a voice screaming warnings of what would happen when his body was impaled on those spikes.

Instinct had him twisting his body around, trying to catch up to the suddenly-changed sensory inputs. At the last instant he managed to smack a hand off the floor—the original floor, now a wall speeding past—and used that impact to spin around to face his feet toward the spikes. He didn’t have a chance to look down and could only hope that he didn’t impale one or both feet on them.

He felt pain as he landed hard, the pain of impact as his legs absorbed the shock of a ten-foot drop. He paid that price, accepted it as he forced himself to remain upright, not to roll or drop or do anything else until he knew where the spikes were situated.

As he got his bearings and the initial jolt faded he felt another lingering pain, this one a burning sensation that came from the side of his left leg. He looked down and saw that he’d gashed the limb on one of the spikes. Bright red blood was already soaking through his leggings and was starting to drip down onto the “floor” beneath him. But it could have been a lot worse; a finger’s length to the left and the spike would have stabbed right through his foot.

“Kosk, are you all right?” Quellan asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Stay back!” the dwarf warned, though the half-orc had only taken a single step forward. “The gravity shift hit me around the middle of the room, but it could vary for each person.”

Glori moved one of her lights toward the dwarf, but he waved at it irritably. Kosk grimaced as he lifted his bloody leg, then undid one of the fasteners that bound the wrist of his robe and used it to apply pressure to the gashed limb. The pool around his foot continued to grow as more blood dripped from the wound.

“You should drink your potion,” Glori suggested.

“I said I’m fine,” the dwarf growled back.

“We can toss a rope over and pull you out,” Quellan said. “But Glori’s right. If something else happens while you’re over there—a secondary trap, for example—we won’t be able to get to you easily. Better to be careful.”

Kosk muttered something under his breath but he took out the vial and downed its contents. At once the trickle of blood eased and the pain vanished.

“I’m going to check out the box,” he said.

It was strange, watching the others standing on what from his altered perspective was the wall of the room above him. Kosk knew it was he who was violating the laws of the universe, but to him it felt just as if the stone beneath him was “down.”

Putting aside such distracting thoughts, he carefully made his way through the spikes over to the clear space around the box. His injured foot squelched in his sandal and he left a bloody footprint with each step but he ignored that, focusing instead on the container.

Up close he could see that it was a solid-looking wooden chest, bound with strips of bronze that showed no sign of tarnish. The lock on the front was equally impressive. Kosk examined the chest for a moment then gave it a gentle shove.

“It’s not attached, it’s just the gravity effect holding it in place,” he reported to the others. He tested the lid. “It’s locked.”

“I can get it open,” Bredan said, tapping his case of tools.

Kosk considered a moment. “All right,” he said. “Let’s pull it out, then take a look.”

It did not take long to come up with a plan. Bredan would remain back by the far side of the room, well clear of the gravity field just in case something went wrong. He took some of the extra rope and wedged it into the narrow gap between the top of the stone door and the threshold. What remained offered plenty of extra slack. Glori and Quellan, holding onto the rope, advanced carefully to just shy of the spot where Kosk had started to fall, ready to grab the chest when it crossed the transition.

Bredan tied the other end of the rope in a loose knot to add weight to it, then unwound enough extra loops to reach across to the far side of the room. It was strange seeing the rope fly halfway across the room and then suddenly grow taut as the shift in gravity took hold. The effect seemed to be situated on a line that exactly bisected the room.

As Kosk took hold of the knotted end the rope hung in the air across the room, passing between Glori and Quellan. The dwarf quickly undid the knot and wrapped the rope around the chest, lifting it briefly so he could loop it around.

“Your friend’s not like any other monk I’ve ever met… or ever heard of,” Glori said quietly as they watched the dwarf work.

“Well, your friend’s hardly an ordinary smith,” Quellan replied.

Her eyes flashed over at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just that… well, he’s courageous. He obviously cares about you a great deal.”

“We’ve been friends a long time,” Glori said.

For a moment it looked like the cleric wanted to say more, but Kosk finished tying off the chest and gave the rope a few quick tugs. Bredan pulled on the rope, his strong arms quickly adding loops of rope to the pile growing at his feet. From Quellan and Glori’s perspective the chest hung in mid-air as it drifted toward them. It didn’t have that far to go, but the strange effect of the gravity shift made its approach seem portentous.

In the end, though, it proved no trouble at all. Glori and Quellan caught the chest just as it crossed the transition and started to drop. They set it down near the door and then Quellan helped Bredan pull Kosk over to their side of the room. They briefly debated taking the chest somewhere else before opening it, but given that every other room in this place had already tried to kill them they decided to stay. But just to be on the safe side they chose a spot close to the exit.

The chest proved as durable as it had looked, but after a dozen blows from Bredan’s chisel the lock finally gave way and it popped open. Despite the danger of still another trap the four of them crowded around to get a look as the smith carefully opened the lid and they peered inside.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 23

“No magic stone,” Kosk said.

“No, but it’s a good thing we were careful,” Glori said. She reached into the chest and took out several small vials that held liquid contents in a variety of colors and consistencies.

“Magic potions?” Bredan asked.

“Most likely,” Quellan said. He had taken another item from the chest, a tightly-wound scroll sealed with a blob of plain wax. He broke the seal and carefully unwound it to reveal neat lines of writing.

“What is it?” Glori asked, looking over his shoulder.

“I believe it is a spell scroll,” the cleric said. “Arcane, I think.”

Glori took a closer look. “Oh, the tiny hut! I know that spell. I saw my master use it a few times. It allows the caster to create a bubble of space that is protected from the elements and intruders,” she explained to Bredan.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any magical talent,” Kosk said.

“I don’t,” Glori insisted. “I couldn’t actually cast this, but I can read the description, obviously…”

“That’s more than I can do,” Quellan admitted. He held it up to the others, who both looked at it and nodded in confirmation. Glori’s expression became troubled, but she was distracted when Bredan turned back to the chest and reached inside. “Hey, what’s this?” he asked.

The object he took out of the chest looked like a dagger at first glance, but it was of very unusual manufacture. The hilt was made of two pieces of curved bronze that surrounded a core of pale green mineral. That “blade” extended out for about six inches beyond the handle, but while it was approximately shaped like a real weapon it ended in a snub notch rather than a point, and the sides were blunt rather than edged.

“It’s jade,” Quellan said. He handed the scroll to Glori and gave the odd dagger a closer look. “Some believe that the mineral can help to preserve the soul after death, and that it can add vitality in the later years of life. It’s used in burial rituals in a number of cultures for that reason.”

“Valuable, then?” Bredan asked.

“Indeed,” Kosk said. He’d been giving the dagger a lingering look, but when the others glanced at him he turned decisively and walked away. “Those Barat cultists wouldn’t have locked it up in there if it wasn’t important somehow. Pack it up and let’s keep moving before something else finds us.”

Glori had rolled up the scroll and placed it—reluctantly—in her pouch. “What about the potions?” she asked.

“Quellan can tell you what they are,” Kosk said. “He took a course at the monastery.”

“Really?” Glori asked.

The half-orc couldn’t blush, but he did manage to look a bit embarrassed. “Magical potions tend to have standard formulae that present distinctive features of odor, texture, and taste,” he said. “And even if that doesn’t work you can usually get a pretty good idea of the effect by tasting a drop.”

“‘less it’s poison, though I reckon you get a pretty good idea from that drop then too,” Kosk pointed out.

“Can you teach me?” Glori asked.

Before Quellan could respond Kosk said, “This isn’t a bloody seminar at the bloody monastery.”

“Maybe we’d better get out of here first,” Bredan added.

“Well, maybe one of those potions might end up saving our lives,” Glori returned.

“It’ll just take a moment,” Quellan said, carefully unscrewing the plug on one of the vials. In his hands the vial looked tiny and fragile, but he handled it deftly and quickly sniffed at it and swirled it before tipping a single drop onto the nail of his little finger and touching it to his tongue.

“Healing,” he said. He handed the potion to Kosk to replace the one he’d used. The other two he identified as heroism and lightning resistance, which he passed on to Bredan and Glori respectively. The bard kept looking at hers, holding the vial up to the torch so that the pale amber liquid sparkled in the light.

“Can we keep moving now?” Kosk asked. “I’d like to be clear of this bloody place before bloody nightfall.”

“I thought monks were supposed to be patient,” Bredan said. “That you can meditate for days without moving a muscle, that sort of thing.”

“Brother Stonefist has been working on his patience,” Quellan said. “Very intently.”

“You have no idea,” the dwarf muttered under his breath.

Taking their prizes with them, the adventurers retraced their steps to the intersection and selected the other fork in the passage. That route also ended in another door, though this one was even more remarkable than the last.

The door was a slab of solid stone a few shades darker than the surrounding walls. This one lacked hinges, pins, or any other apparent mechanism for opening it. The only obvious feature was a narrow slot set at approximately eye level, and as they got closer the torchlight revealed several rows of shallow runes etched into the stone above it, right below the upper lintel of the doorway.

“Are those dwarf-runes?” Bredan asked, squinting to read them in the weak light.

Kosk responded with a snort. “Hardly.”

Quellan summoned light again, and with the bright glow clearly revealing the inscription they all studied the strange markings. “They’re Draconic,” Glori said.

“Do you understand that tongue?” Quellan asked.

Glori shook her head. “I recognize the script, but I never learned the language.”

“I thought you were a scholar,” Bredan asked the cleric.

“Hey, how many languages do you speak, kid?” Kosk asked.

“I am reasonably fluent in a number of languages, but unfortunately Draconic is not one of them,” Quellan said.

“So basically if this is a warning, we have no way of knowing what’s waiting for us,” Kosk said.

“Would it matter?” Bredan said. “We’re going to open it anyway, aren’t we?”

“The question is how,” Glori said. She gave the door a rap with her knuckles. “Don’t think you’re going to be able to chisel this one down, not unless we’re willing to spend a few weeks here.”

“The jade dagger,” Quellan said.

“Not a dagger, a key,” Bredan said, catching the cleric’s meaning. He produced the device and slid it into the slot in the door. It fit perfectly, and after a moment the entire slab began to descend into the floor. The low rumble of some hidden mechanism accompanied the motion until the embedded key reached floor level, at which it abruptly stopped, leaving a low barrier that they could easily step over into the room beyond.

The chamber was even larger than the last, maybe twenty feet across and twice that in depth, with the far wall just a vague shadow at the edge of the torchlight. Once again Glori strummed her lyre and summoned globes of light that drifted out to illuminate the details of the room.

“Woah,” she said.

Like the room with the gravity trap this one looked empty at first glance, but the dancing lights revealed several distinctive details. There was another exit in the far corner, a stone door that was dominated by a macabre carving of a grinning skull. That was ominous, but what drew their immediate attention was the floor. The segments on their side near the entry and on the far side by the other door were plain stone like the rest of the complex, but in between them was a roughly twenty-foot square covered in a grid of smooth tiles about two feet on a side. The overwhelming majority of those were black, but six of them showed colors that had only slightly faded with time: blue, red, green, yellow, violet, and white.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Kosk said.

“It’s a puzzle,” Glori said, clearly excited by the prospect.

“How much do you want to wager that the inscription on the door is some sort of clue?” Quellan said.

“I hate bloody puzzles,” Kosk said. With a decisive jerk on his robe he started forward across the room. He gave the colored tiles a wide berth, selecting a row near the left wall that was entirely black.

“Kosk, wait!” Glori said, but the dwarf was already on the tiles, and he didn’t hesitate. It only took a moment to cross the tiled portion of the floor, and nothing happened until he stepped off the last tile onto the plainer stone on the far side.

At which point he was vaporized with an electric sizzle and a puff of gray smoke.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 24

For a moment the three remaining adventurers could just stare at where their companion had abruptly disappeared.

Before any of them could react further, there was another crackling burst of smoke on their side of the room, one that quickly disgorged a stunned dwarf onto the floor. Quellan was at his side in a heartbeat, but Kosk seemed to be all right, if a bit singed by his magical journey across the room.

“What happened?” Bredan asked.

“What’s it bloody look like!” the dwarf said as he staggered to his feet, shaking off the cleric’s steadying hand. “Another bloody magical trap!”

“Hold on, I’ll go take another look at the door,” Glori said.

“I can maybe clear the tiles altogether,” Kosk said, regarding the floor pattern with a suspicious growl.

“That’s twenty feet if it is a yard,” Bredan said. “You’ll never make it, not without enough room to get a running start.”

“I could get a boost from my staff,” the monk suggested.

“Look, just wait a blasted minute, okay?” Glori said. She turned back to the door, but Bredan stopped her. “Hey, wait, what if the door closes behind us?”

“Then I guess you’ll be trapped here for all eternity,” Glori said. When Bredan’s expression turned into one of horror she said, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch anything.”

“I’ll go with you,” Quellan said.

Bredan hesitated, but before he could commit either way Kosk tugged on his arm. “Come over here, I have an idea.”

Glori stepped over the sunken door and moved aside to let Quellan pass before returning her attention to the door and the runes now just above floor level. She flopped down without feeling self-conscious, making sure her lyre was not in danger of being crushed before she scooted forward to look at the inscription more closely.

“Come on, you’ll have to crouch down to get a closer look,” she said to Quellan.

She was so focused on the runes that she didn’t notice the cleric’s hesitation, or the look that crossed his face before he dropped to one knee and bent low so that his head was close to hers.

“Damn it, I thought the room might jog something loose,” Glori said after a long moment.

“I think I recognize some of those runes!” Quellan said.

“Oh? Which ones?”

Quellan pointed to some of the markings on the door. “These here… this one, and this one. And this here. I read them, I think… in a book…”

“What do they mean?” Glori asked. She grabbed hold of his shoulder, again failing to notice his reaction.

“Um… I don’t… I think it was Tevran’s… no, it was Cheslan’s Iconography of the Soul, that’s it! They represent emotions!”

“Emotions?” Glori asked.

“Yes. See, this one’s envy, and this one here is anger. They repeat on successive lines. And fear up here in the right, near the start—draconic reads right to left, that much I know—and again here.”

“This one at the end, I think that’s pretty obvious,” Glori said, pointing to a rune that resembled a skull. What’s this one next to it?”

Quellan frowned. “I’m not sure, but I think it might be…”

He didn’t get a chance to finish, as he was interrupted by a sound of fast-padding feet on stone that was followed by a loud grunt of effort. The cleric and bard shared a knowing look but even as they started to get up they could hear a familiar sizzling pop from the room beyond.

They ran into the room to find Kosk lying on the floor again, with wisps of smoke just dissolving above him. The dwarf had clearly suffered from his second trip through the trap’s teleporter, but he didn’t look to be seriously hurt as he pulled himself up, cursing.

Bredan turned with a look on his face like a child caught filching cookies. “He almost made it,” he said. “I boosted him, he just barely clipped the furthest tile…”

“I am getting over there,” the dwarf said.

“We don’t even know if that will work,” Quellan said. “Maybe you don’t have to touch the tiles at all to trigger the trap.”

“Do you have a better option?” Kosk shot back.

“We’ve partially deciphered the inscription,” Quellan said. “Some of the runes represent emotions.”

“So? We’re not dealing with emotions, we’re dealing with colors.”

“Colors… emotions…” Glori said, turning away from the argument to consider the floor pattern again.

“Maybe that potion you found, the one that resists lightning?” Bredan said. “It looks like the trap hits you with lightning.” He pointed to Kosk’s robe, twice-singed in his passage through the trap.

“That still won’t help us get us past the teleport effect,” Quellan pointed out.

“Well, maybe we can try stepping on the colored ones, see what happens,” the smith suggested.

“I’m going to try the jump again,” Kosk said. “This time, both of you help me.”

“We don’t know…” Quellan began, but the dwarf cut him off. “Well, we’ll try this, and then if it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else!”

“Glori!” Bredan cried.

The others turned to see Glori walking out onto the tiles. She walked straight to the white tile, roughly in the center of the room. She remained there for a moment, then took a deep breath and pivoted to face the yellow tile. The three men held their breath as she reached it, then turned to her next destination. She completed the pattern quickly, not pausing as she walked from green to red to blue and then straight across the room toward the far door. She hesitated just a moment over the final step off the tiles, the one that had gotten Kosk several times already, but when she did finally cross that transition nothing happened.

She turned back to face the others, a triumphant smile on her face.

“What was the secret?” Bredan asked.

“Emotions.” She pointed to the colored tiles. “Emotions are associated with colors. Think about it; we use them in stories and songs all the time. White to start with, the color of innocence. Then it was just following the order they appeared on the door. Yellow for fear, green for envy, red for anger.”

“But I never got a chance to tell you what the penultimate rune was,” Quellan said. “The one right before the skull.”

“Let me guess,” Glori said. “Sadness.”

Quellan nodded.

“And what about purple?” Bredan asked.

“I didn’t see how it fit, so I skipped it.”

“And how did you know to start with the white one?” Bredan asked.

Glori shrugged and grinned. “I guessed.”

“Clever,” Quellan said.

“Annoying,” Kosk said. “So what, we just step on them in that same order?”

“It worked once, anyway,” Bredan said. He walked out onto the tiles, echoing Glori’s path.

It only took a minute for each of them to complete the pattern and reunite on the far side of the room. The ominous door with its grinning skull offered another potential obstacle, but as soon as Kosk touched it the slab receded back a few inches and sank slowly into the floor. Unlike the previous door this one descended completely, leaving the route into the space beyond invitingly open. But the adventurers hesitated a moment, wary of what deadly surprise the long-dead cult might have for them next.

“Bloody hell,” Kosk finally said, striding forward into the next room.

It quickly became clear that they had finally come to their destination. The room was slightly smaller than the one they had left, an elongated ovoid that they entered at one narrow end. At the far end there was a crude table or altar fashioned out of stone slabs, and atop it rested a fist-sized crystal that caught the light of the torch and flashed it around the room.