Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 35
“PULL!” Jaron yelled, desperation tearing at his muscles as he put his words into action, yanking on the handle of the iron door. Opposite him, Beetle had worked a dagger into the jam, and was using it as a lever to try and pry the heavy portal open.
Jaron heard the hiss of the wights behind him as they rushed forward; only seconds separated them.
The door creaked open a mocking inch. Beetle dropped his knife and thrust his grubby fingers into the crack, grunting as he pulled. With a last groan the door suddenly gave, sliding open a full foot. Beetle shot through, grabbing Jaron and pulling him after him. The pair tumbled forward into a narrow passageway beyond, thick with dust and cobwebs.
Behind them, the door shuddered as the first wight slammed into it. The heavy iron door jerked halfway shut from the impact. Even as the halflings fumbled back up to their feet, a pale gray arm appeared in the crack, probing hungrily.
Drawing another knife out from somewhere, Beetle stabbed it into the wight's elbow. The razor-sharp blade penetrated deep into the creature’s wiry flesh, and it let out a strangled hiss. The arm drew back, and in that scant moment of reprieve Jaron took the handle on this side of the door and yanked it shut. He shot the bolt even as the wights started pounding on the door, their nails creating a terrible sound as they scratched at the metal.
“They won’t get through that easily,” Jaron said, his heart pounding in his chest. “Are you all right?”
Beetle lifted a thumb, and grinned.
Shaking his head, Jaron turned to explore this new area.
The corridor led straight ahead, and was evidently long-undisturbed. Ancient carvings decorated the walls, depicting horned humanoid creatures engaging in activities it was impossible to clearly discern. Cobwebs hung over everything, and the two halflings could hear vermin skittering away from them as they made their way forward.
“Creepy,” Beetle said, pausing to step on a bug. The crackling noise as its shell broke made Jaron’s skin crawl. “Don’t do that,” he whispered. “There might be someone up ahead who could hear.” The warning seemed unnecessary; they’d made a lot more noise getting through the iron door. But Beetle complied, or at least didn’t kill any more bugs as they pressed further ahead. The sound of the wights at the door died away behind them; either the creatures had given up, or they were waiting for their prey to return.
Either way, the two of them had few options left.
They passed several side tunnels that ended quickly in bare stone walls. The place had the air of an ancient crypt, but if there were remains interred here, they were well sealed away from prying eyes.
They entered another hall that crossed the passageway. A large statue of a minotaur stood here, looming over them like some terrible guardian, a broad-bladed axe held ready in its massive fists. A trick of its construction seemed to make its eyes follow the cousins as they approached. Jaron was wary of a trap, but Beetle did not appear to be intimidated by the hulking thing. Or at least, if he was, he concealed it well, springing up onto the statue’s leg, then jumping off to catch the stone handle of its weapon, flipping forward into a somersault that reached its apex some eight feet off the floor. Jaron rushed toward him in alarm, but Beetle landed lightly on his feet, turning with a broad grin on his face.
Jaron opened his mouth, but closed it, the words left unsaid. What was the use?
“Light,” Beetle said, drawing Jaron’s attention down the side-hall in the direction he’d jumped. The two halflings rushed forward, and quickly came to another door. This one looked as ancient as their surroundings here, slabs of old wood bound in iron that was crusted with rust and decay. The light came from a thin crack under the door. Beetle didn’t wait, dropping to the floor to put his eye on the same level as the crack. Reluctantly, after looking at the dirt that covered the floor, Jaron copied him.
The two watched in silence together for a long minute. Then Jaron finally drew back, and sat up against the wall next to the door. Beetle pulled up a moment later, a black streak of grime marking the entire left side of his face. Jaron drew out a cloth and rubbed at what he imagined was a similar mess on his. He looked at his cousin, and shook his head.
“Now what are we supposed to do?” he asked quietly, his expression that of someone in way over his head.
Beetle pointed to the lock in the door. “Open?”
“And then what? You saw what I saw, cousin.” He lowered the dirty rag and lowered his face into his hands. “We’re trapped.”
“PULL!” Jaron yelled, desperation tearing at his muscles as he put his words into action, yanking on the handle of the iron door. Opposite him, Beetle had worked a dagger into the jam, and was using it as a lever to try and pry the heavy portal open.
Jaron heard the hiss of the wights behind him as they rushed forward; only seconds separated them.
The door creaked open a mocking inch. Beetle dropped his knife and thrust his grubby fingers into the crack, grunting as he pulled. With a last groan the door suddenly gave, sliding open a full foot. Beetle shot through, grabbing Jaron and pulling him after him. The pair tumbled forward into a narrow passageway beyond, thick with dust and cobwebs.
Behind them, the door shuddered as the first wight slammed into it. The heavy iron door jerked halfway shut from the impact. Even as the halflings fumbled back up to their feet, a pale gray arm appeared in the crack, probing hungrily.
Drawing another knife out from somewhere, Beetle stabbed it into the wight's elbow. The razor-sharp blade penetrated deep into the creature’s wiry flesh, and it let out a strangled hiss. The arm drew back, and in that scant moment of reprieve Jaron took the handle on this side of the door and yanked it shut. He shot the bolt even as the wights started pounding on the door, their nails creating a terrible sound as they scratched at the metal.
“They won’t get through that easily,” Jaron said, his heart pounding in his chest. “Are you all right?”
Beetle lifted a thumb, and grinned.
Shaking his head, Jaron turned to explore this new area.
The corridor led straight ahead, and was evidently long-undisturbed. Ancient carvings decorated the walls, depicting horned humanoid creatures engaging in activities it was impossible to clearly discern. Cobwebs hung over everything, and the two halflings could hear vermin skittering away from them as they made their way forward.
“Creepy,” Beetle said, pausing to step on a bug. The crackling noise as its shell broke made Jaron’s skin crawl. “Don’t do that,” he whispered. “There might be someone up ahead who could hear.” The warning seemed unnecessary; they’d made a lot more noise getting through the iron door. But Beetle complied, or at least didn’t kill any more bugs as they pressed further ahead. The sound of the wights at the door died away behind them; either the creatures had given up, or they were waiting for their prey to return.
Either way, the two of them had few options left.
They passed several side tunnels that ended quickly in bare stone walls. The place had the air of an ancient crypt, but if there were remains interred here, they were well sealed away from prying eyes.
They entered another hall that crossed the passageway. A large statue of a minotaur stood here, looming over them like some terrible guardian, a broad-bladed axe held ready in its massive fists. A trick of its construction seemed to make its eyes follow the cousins as they approached. Jaron was wary of a trap, but Beetle did not appear to be intimidated by the hulking thing. Or at least, if he was, he concealed it well, springing up onto the statue’s leg, then jumping off to catch the stone handle of its weapon, flipping forward into a somersault that reached its apex some eight feet off the floor. Jaron rushed toward him in alarm, but Beetle landed lightly on his feet, turning with a broad grin on his face.
Jaron opened his mouth, but closed it, the words left unsaid. What was the use?
“Light,” Beetle said, drawing Jaron’s attention down the side-hall in the direction he’d jumped. The two halflings rushed forward, and quickly came to another door. This one looked as ancient as their surroundings here, slabs of old wood bound in iron that was crusted with rust and decay. The light came from a thin crack under the door. Beetle didn’t wait, dropping to the floor to put his eye on the same level as the crack. Reluctantly, after looking at the dirt that covered the floor, Jaron copied him.
The two watched in silence together for a long minute. Then Jaron finally drew back, and sat up against the wall next to the door. Beetle pulled up a moment later, a black streak of grime marking the entire left side of his face. Jaron drew out a cloth and rubbed at what he imagined was a similar mess on his. He looked at his cousin, and shook his head.
“Now what are we supposed to do?” he asked quietly, his expression that of someone in way over his head.
Beetle pointed to the lock in the door. “Open?”
“And then what? You saw what I saw, cousin.” He lowered the dirty rag and lowered his face into his hands. “We’re trapped.”