TOMB RAIDERS
Anwar rejoined the crew of the Sea Wyvern when the ships set out from Mezro. Too much had transpired during his absence, and the bard simply hated being out of the loop. Plus, Captain Venkalie needed a little extra placating now that there were three gnomes aboard her boat.
As the days passed, Urol became more and more excited. The expedition was drawing nearer to the legendary ruins of Tamoachan, scheduled to arrive within a fortnight. Lavinia had told the Legionnaires that she had promised the gnome a two-day layover so that he could explore the ancient city, but she would feel more comfortable if they accompanied him, just in case he got himself into any trouble. Urol talked incessantly about the coming adventure, relating the tale of how he’d come by the map to an unexplored section of the ruins. According to this story, he purchased the map from a one-legged sailor who, in turn, claimed to have been given it by a dying elf fished from the sea. This nameless elf was part of an expedition which stumbled upon the hidden section of the city by accident. Unfortunately, the group was attacked by a strange eight-legged lizard with glowing eyes that turned those who saw it to stone. Only the elf escaped back to their ship, but on the voyage back to Tashluta, the boat sank in a storm.
“Are you saying there’s a basilisk guarding these ruins?” Basil asked.
“Well…” the naturalist hesitated, “yes, but only one! I’m sure you fellows can handle it, and besides, if any of you gets turned to stone, I have plenty of stone salve. I can turn you back quick as a flash!”
Basil still looked dubious, but Marius was just as eager as the gnome to go exploring. The Seekers lived for just such discoveries, and the warmage was no exception.
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Fourteen days out of Mezro, the two ships reached the sheltered cove indicated on Urol’s map. It was decided that Sepoto would remain aboard the Sea Wyvern, in the event that something or someone came upon the vessel while the company was gone. Amella would need a seasoned warrior should trouble arise.
The other members of the company, with Urol, took a launch to the beach, and then set out on what would prove to be an hour-long trek through the sweltering jungle. Thrisp took the lead, scouting stealthily ahead of the others, and proceeding with even more caution as they approached the area where Urol’s map showed the ruins to be. Ahead, the jungle parted to reveal the remains of a large chamber, once held within the root of a ziggurat, which towered above, but now open to the elements. Images of pouncing and stalking cats graced what was left of the vine-strangled walls. Dozens of moldering, stuffed jungle cats lay scattered around the edge of the exposed room, along with several strangely unweathered statues of men dressed in armor. Of the five passageways that once led further into the ziggurat’s depths, only two remained uncollapsed.
Thrisp crept stealthily across the clearing towards the nearest passage. Behind him, he heard the approach of the others. Just as he reached the hall, and his companions entered the area, he heard the sound of falling stones, and scrabbling from one of the blocked passages to his left. When he turned in that direction, he saw a reptilian creature, roughly the size of a large dog, but with eight stumpy legs, scrambling out of the tunnel. It was the basilisk! Apparently, it had neither seen nor heard him, but the others were not so fortunate. The basilisk began moving across the chamber towards them. Before it was halfway across, however, Thrisp began a spell…the same one he’d used on Rowyn Kellani. And it worked just as effectively. The basilisk took one more lumbering step, and then collapsed onto its belly, snoring loudly. Samson didn’t hesitate. Taking a spear from Marius, the little goblin walked right up to the sleeping beast, and plunged the blade down through its skull.
“You see?” Urol cried, clapping his hands in delight. “I told you it wouldn’t be any problem! Excellent work! Just excellent!” Then his attention was drawn to the statues posed about the room. “These poor devils!” he exclaimed. “I still have my stone salve. Don’t you think we should do something for them?”
Anwar moved to the gnome and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Surely you don’t have enough for all of them?” he asked. Urol shook his head, eyes downcast.
“No. I have only two applications.”
For a moment Anwar fumed. The little liar had said he had plenty! What if more than two of them had been turned? If that had happened, he would have made sure this was one venture the gnome would never have returned from. Quickly, he regained his composure.
“Well then, how are we to decide who lives and who dies?” he asked. “Best not to dwell on it now. They will still be here when we return, and perhaps we can decide better then.”
Reluctantly, the druid nodded his agreement.
Thrisp took the lead again, making his way down the eastern passage, a magical Zone of Silence enveloping him, so that any sound he made would not be transmitted beyond it. Forty-feet down the tunnel, he came into another chamber, this one fully enclosed. A huge statue of a lumbering man outfitted in decayed skins and cracked skulls, his gaping and tusked mouth wide enough to swallow a halfling whole, stood to the north. A battered, but once intricately carved well sat to the south. The entire area was littered with skulls and shards of rusted metal. Thrisp paused at the entrance to the room, and cast another spell, one that allowed him to detect emanations of magic. After concentrating for a moment, he picked up the tell-tale glow coming from somewhere inside the well. Slowly, he moved forward until he could just see over the edge. Immediately, he drew back, for there was something crouched just inside the shaft. It appeared to have a body like some giant amoeba, though its surface had the color, if not the consistency, of human flesh. Countless eyes and toothy mouths seemed to constantly form and disappear all over the creature, often retreating into its form even as they became apparent. Quickly, Thrisp hurried back to warn his companions.
“I don’t think it knew I was there,” he finished. “We can still get the drop on it, if we’re careful. I’ll take Marius, Basil and Samson with me. That way we can all be shrouded in silence, and it won’t hear us coming.”
“A capital idea!” Anwar agreed. “Urol and I will wait here. If you run into any trouble, just give a shout.”
Thrisp turned back towards the tunnel, rolling his eyes. ‘A lot of good that would do,’ he thought. The creature didn’t look like the sort that could be taken in by silver words and a squirt of perfume. With his three companions, he made his way down the hall once more, until they stood just outside the chamber. Suddenly, the air filled with a cacophonous gibbering, as the creature heaved itself out of the well. It had spotted them!
“Damn it!” Samson cursed, stepping fully into the room and placing himself between the creature and the others. As it oozed towards him, the dragon shaman unleashed his acidic breath upon it. It squealed in pain, but this only added to the maddening din it was already making. Then Marius and Basil were behind him. The two mages cast, and a mixture of fire and ice struck the abomination, freezing large sections of it while simultaneously searing others. It ceased its jabbering as suddenly as it had begun, folding in on itself until only a small pool of ichor remained. Watching in disgust, Marius didn’t see Thrisp approaching from behind, his shortsword in his hand. The insane gibbering of the creature had scrambled the gnome’s coherent thoughts to the point where he could not tell friend from foe. He jabbed his blade forward, piercing the war mage’s side with a shallow graze. Then, just like that, Thrisp’s mind cleared.
“Ow! What in the Hell’s?” Marius shouted, whirling about, his hand clutched to his bleeding ribcage. Thrisp looked down at his bloodied sword in confusion.
“Oops,” he said.
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The chamber proved a dead-end, with only a small bit of treasure to be found amid the remains of past meals of the monster scattered at the bottom of the well. The group retraced their steps to the entrance, and then took the northeast passage. It ran for a mere fifteen feet before it ended at a ten-foot wide, fifty-foot long landing overlooking a larger chamber to the north, which was accessible by a short flight of downward sloping stairs. The entrance to the larger room was framed by dozens of skeletons carved into the fifty-foot wide arch, their bones intertwined with hundreds of carved snakes. Unnerving ripples of black smoke slithered and danced among the carvings. The floor of the larger chamber beyond appeared to have once contained a breathtaking sculpture of an ancient city, yet time had taken its toll on the map-like fresco, reducing it to a tangled mess that, ironically, almost seemed to reflect the ruined Tamoachan above. The walls were decorated with brightly colored paintings depicting a royal court in ceremonial garb, and a king arrayed with his magnificent armies. Pathways wound through the ruins, affording a twisting route through the rubble. In the center of the room was a wide plaza, in the middle of which rested a low, stone table.
“I recognize the nature of this arch,” Anwar said, stepping closer to examine it. “It’s Maztican, one of the ancient tribes that once populated the Chultan peninsula. This marks the entrance to their land of the dead, indicating that beyond lies a crypt, or perhaps a place where the priests prepared the dead for the afterlife.”
“It’s magic,” Thrisp said, studying the arch as well. “Necromancy, if I’m not mistaken, though something about it seems to be…unstable.”
“Perhaps some ancient ward, designed to keep out intruders,” Anwar mused.
“Like us,” Samson added.
Thrisp moved even closer to the arch, running his hands along one edge.
“I think I can disable the magic,” he announced after a moment, and then set to work with his tools. A moment later, he stood and nodded. The wispy smoke had vanished.
“There,” he said. “It should be safe now, though I felt a bit unnerved for a moment. Still, I’m detecting the presence of magic in the main chamber. It’s strong…and destructive. Fire-based, unless I miss my guess.”
“Ah, then I have just the thing!” Anwar said, fishing in his pack. He pulled a scroll case out and unfurled its contents, reading them aloud and then touching the gnome. “Safe as a lamb now,” he said. “Flames can’t harm you…at least temporarily.”
Thrisp looked skeptical, but knowing that no one else had his skills at finding and disabling traps, he moved carefully into the map room.
He had gone barely ten paces before there was a roar of sound and intense heat from behind him. Turning, he saw a wall of flames spring into being and begin moving towards him. Ducking reflexively, he was relieved to find himself unharmed when the wall passed right over him. It continued across the chamber to the far side, where it winked out of existence. Quickly, he dashed to an alcove on the east side of the room, from which opened a narrow, natural fissure.
“The magic is still there!” he shouted across to the others, and no sooner had the words left his mouth than the fire wall reappeared, once more moving slowly across the room. As it passed, the others darted through the area, joining Thrisp in his cubby, and then following him down the narrow passage.
“But I wanted to explore that room more thoroughly!” Urol whined as they moved away from the burial chamber.
“Be my guest,” Anwar sneered. “I’d just be quick about it, or you’re likely to come back with quite a sunburn.”
Urol didn’t look amused.
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Tlanextli heard the fire trap being sprung, and he quickly floated down the tunnel to see what had been killed, anxious to feed on its fading life force. When he arrived, however, he was surprised to see not only no one dead, but in fact six creatures practically brimming with life! Anger flowed through him at first. More intruders to his lair! Just as quickly, however, it turned to something else…hope. Perhaps these mortals, if they were canny enough to outwit the basilisk and make their way past the trap, might just be able to penetrate the barrier. If so, then he could kill his hated enemy at last! Once that was done, he would feed on the mortals as well. Yes! Things were definitely looking up.
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The tunnel they traveled appeared to be a natural vent through the stone. Thrisp surmised it may have been opened after an earthquake, sometime in the past. After winding for several dozen yards, it ended in a small room, the walls of which were covered with eroded glyphs and hieroglyphic images depicting what appeared to be bat-like creatures feasting on humanoids. The eastern wall, beyond a low archway, consisted of a strangely out-of-place sheet of iron.
Basil and Thrisp studied the drawings intently.
“Do you recognize them?” the gnome asked.
Basil nodded. “Varrangoin.” he said.
“What are they?” Anwar asked.
“Denizens of the Abyss,” Basil answered. “Mercenaries to more powerful beings, usually. Strange that they should be drawn here.”
“The Mazticans had various bat, snake and lizard cults,” Urol observed. “Perhaps these are just representations of their beliefs.”
“Have a look at this,” Marius called suddenly from across the room, where he’d been examining the iron wall.
“What about it?” Anwar asked, moving towards him.
“It’s not natural,” the gnome said. “Magic, most likely. Created here.”
“Then we have to get past it!” Urol shouted. “There has to be something of great value beyond it, otherwise why would it be here?”
Anwar considered this for a moment, and then nodded. “I would tend to agree.” Marius looked relieved. “Samson, do you think you’re up to the task?”
Fifteen minutes later, the dragon shaman had beaten a hole in the wall large enough for them to squeeze through one-by-one. Urol was right. Another chamber awaited on the far side. It bore a strange resemblance to the previous one, in that the floor consisted of a stone scale model of an ancient city. Yet whereas the previous model was terribly damaged, this chamber seemed relatively well preserved. The layout and style of the city was quite different, with four wide canals converging upon a large lake in the center, from which rose a great stone pyramid. Mighty temples rose from the low, angular buildings, while the stone walls depicted life-like images of leering bats, lizards and snakes.
Urol gasped in amazement as he gaped at the room, and Samson had to physically restrain him from simply wandering in.
“Fool!” the goblin snapped. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? You’ll have plenty of time to sightsee after we make sure it’s uninhabited.”
Urol nodded reluctantly, but it was obvious that he was as anxious as a child on its birthday. Thrisp moved to the hole and concentrated on the room beyond. Immediately he sensed the presence of magic, and within a few moments, he narrowed it down to the pyramid in the chamber’s center, or rather something inside the pyramid. Motioning for the others to wait, he made his way carefully across the miniature cityscape until he stood beside the ziggurat. Meticulously, he examined every inch, determining that it was in fact a sarcophagus of some sort, and that its top was removable. It was also trapped. Should he just lift the lid, some sort of mechanical trigger would be tripped. He rubbed his hands together briskly, stretching his fingers as he prepared to disarm the device. From across the room he could hear the sound of Anwar singing a low tune of encouragement, the sound helping to calm his nerves and steel his resolve.
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Thrisp wasn’t the only one who heard the song. From his nest atop the stone calendar, in a room not-to-distant from the map room, Sutolore’s large ears pricked up. Could it be? Had someone finally breached the cursed wall that he had inadvertently triggered during his battle with the ‘wisp? He fervently hoped so. He had been surviving on rancid water and spiders since his imprisonment, and he was ravenous. Spreading his wings, he took to the air.
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Thrisp heard the trigger click and waited breathlessly for a moment to see if he had inadvertently set off the trap. When nothing happened, he gave the high sign to his companions, then bent to the task of removing the lid. At that moment, a terrifying shriek filled the air. Thrisp gasped involuntarily and looked up. Flying towards him was a creature which resembled a human-sized bat with an emaciated body and a skull-like, demonic face. It sported a pair of ragged wings, and a long tail which bore a wicked barb on its end. Its skin was coal black and hairless. Thrisp recognized it immediately. It was a varrangoin, just like the ones in the murals. As it streaked towards him, a glowing ball of light suddenly appeared between them. At first Thrisp thought Marius had loosed some new spell he’d learned, but the gnome did not recognize it as any magic he’d ever seen. It flew directly at the bat-thing, and as it drew near, a small bolt of electricity arced from it to the varrangoin. The latter shrieked in a combination of rage and pain. It spoke in a guttural tongue that Thrisp recognized as the language of the Abyss.
“I defeated you once before!” it hissed at the light ball. “Why won’t you die?”
Basil heard the exchange as well, and he knew exactly what the glowing orb was…a will-o’-wisp…a creature of pure evil that fed off the life energies of others. At the moment, however, it seemed intent on battling the varrangoin. ‘The enemy of my enemy,’ Basil thought, recalling an old street proverb. The bat-demon apparently saw things the same way. It swept around the ‘wisp in a graceful arc, diving right for the iron wall. It paused a dozen feet away and opened its mouth wide, belching forth a great gout of fire. Basil ducked behind the wall at the last moment, but Samson, Marius, Anwar and Urol were all caught in the blast. Anwar quickly retreated back down the narrow passage, hustling the little druid before him. Samson, on the other hand, charged forward, slamming his morningstar solidly into the varrangoin…and not even scratching its skin.
Marius wasn’t sure what they were facing, and he didn’t much care. He only knew that it was a matter of their survival versus the creature’s, and he wasn’t going to make his previous mistake of overanalyzing the situation. He stepped to the hole in the wall, and launched two sizzling rays of flame at Sutolore, both of them scorching the demon’s hide, but not nearly as much as the warmage would have liked. Beside him, Basil released a volley of arcane missiles, scoring telling hits with all. Suddenly, a blinding flash of multicolored light flared from Thrisp’s direction, and the varrangoin clutched at its eyes. Blindly, it breathed flames again, and Samson, Basil and Marius were directly in the line of fire. In response, Samson breathed forth his own caustic breath, but the burning liquid simply beaded on the demon’s skin like water. Just then, the will-o’-wisp appeared behind Sutolore, and shocked him again with its electric touch. Simultaneously, Marius hurled a ball of ice he’d conjured, pelting the demon in the chest. Sutolore’s vision slowly returned, and he hissed at the enemies surrounding him. Suddenly, he felt a wave of hopelessness sweep over him. His mind told him he could not win the battle, though logically, he knew this was false. Still, he could not fight the sensation, and gradually, he felt consciousness leave him.
Anwar watched from a safe distance as the varrangoin slumped to the floor, a victim of Thrisp’s latest parlor trick. The bard strode confidently into the chamber, applauding. Then, sweeping his cap from his head, he bowed to the bobbing will-o’-wisp.
“You have our thanks. We have defeated a common foe, and we now wish to offer you parley.”
As he spoke, Samson stood above the unconscious bat-demon, and systematically bashed in its skull with his cudgel. The glowing orb pulsed for a moment, hanging motionless in the air, and then it darted directly at the goblin, sending a bolt of energy into Samson’s back.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Anwar said, ducking behind the dragon shaman and pulling a wand from his belt. As he touched it to the goblin, Samson’s worst wounds began to close. Meanwhile, Marius and Basil both fired twin volleys of arcane missiles at the ‘wisp. It pulsed more rapidly, glowing red and rushed at the wizards, sending bolt after bolt of electricity at them. As it passed Samson, however, the dragon shaman swung his morningstar, connecting solidly, though the creature seemed insubstantial. It pulsed once more, then vanished from sight.
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“I’m staying here, and that’s final!” Urol said, folding his arms defiantly across his chest. The druid was insistent that he be allowed to examine the map room, despite the warnings of the Legionnaires that the area might not yet be secured.
“Suit yourself,” Anwar shrugged. “Just leave a note designating who your belongings should go to in the event of your untimely demise.”
The company then left the room, following a curving hall to another interior chamber. A huge, circular disk of stone dominated the floor of the room, its face carved with dozens of concentric rings of hieroglyphs and shapes. A filthy nest of bones and rubble sat atop it. Marius readily identified the disk as an Maztican calendar, and Basil guessed this had been the nesting place of the varrangoin. Beyond the room, they came upon twin statues of men dressed in strange, ancient armor and wearing towering headdresses made of coiled snakes and bat wings, standing to either side of an arched doorway. On the other side of the arch was a circular room, its walls adorned with dozens of niches, in which rested the desiccated bodies of long-dead men and women. Beyond this chamber, a yawning shaft descended into gloom. The walls were fitted with hundreds more niches, upon which lay the dusty bones of heroes, priests, kings, queens and warriors of a bygone age. Resting upon the topmost niche, cradled in the arms of a skeleton, was a glittering golden statuette of a bat. Its eyes were made of rubies, and it had tiny slivers of pearl for fangs and claws. The group found themselves immediately drawn to it, and Thrisp determined that it radiated a faint aura of transmutation magic. Basil took it from its perch, and examined it closely, closing his eyes and concentrating on the magical energy it gave off. Some time later, he opened them again, and looked at his companions.
“It’s a key,” he said.
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