I'm a little pressed for time at the moment, but I have the stats for the new guys (both the DBs and the Bad Guys) on my portable drive, and I'll post them tomorrow.
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Chapter 29
BLOOD AND LOOT
“Did you hear that?” Jasek asked.
Ghazaran called a halt, but not, Jasek noticed, before glancing over at his whatever-the-hell-he-was, Ozmad. The elf—or was it giant?—seemed disinterested in what the rest of them were doing most of the time, but his apparent nonchalance did not fool the thief in the slightest. While he wasn’t sure just what Ozmad was, it had quickly become clear that he was far more than just another planar ally.
Thus far, Ozmad had not contributed a great deal to their effort here, other than digging the shaft that had given them access to the Well. That had been surprising, and impressive. Jasek had heard of items like the one that the creature had used, but the reality of seeing it in action had been something else entirely. Since then Ozmad had been a mostly silent observer of their progress, but it was clear in the way that Ghazaran deferred to him that the balance of power within their little group had shifted subtly.
Now Ghazaran was looking at him. “It sounded like a pounding, distant, very faint. From back the way we came.”
Now that they had all stopped moving, everyone strained to listen, but the complex was silent. “Perhaps you are jumping at shadows, thief,” the Seer suggested. “You forget that we closed the hatch behind us, and the only keys are in our possession.”
But Ghazaran made a curt motion, and Falah and Parzad broke off from the group, and headed back the way they had come.
Jasek bit back a sharp retort. They were all on edge, and it wasn’t just because of the alien nature of this place, or the fierce resistance they had faced since they had reached the bottom of the Well, and broached the hatch that had led into the complex.
Getting that far had been relatively trivial. They had arrived at Rappan Athuk just before dawn, to find a strong Camarian patrol encamped there. The Camarian force had included almost two dozen soldiers, accompanied by both a mage and a cleric. They had been alert, expecting trouble, but it hadn’t saved them.
Concealed by the predawn murk, and the heavy morning fog that cloaked the hills, the wind walking company had drifted almost to the edge of the camp, and materialized undetected amongst a nearby cluster of boulders. Jasek had been late to arrive; Ghazaran did not have enough power to transform all of them with his spell, and the thief had been unable to keep up using the power of his winged cloak. Ozmad had likewise been able to fly under his own power. Jasek remembered feeling relieved when he’d realized that he was able to fly somewhat faster than the elf. While Ghazaran’s latest ally had made no hostile overtures toward the rest of them, there was something frightening in the creature’s eyes when it looked at you, as though it could peel away the shrouds over your eyes and stare upon the naked surface of the soul.
By the time that Jasek and Ozmad had finally reached the camp, it was already over. The enemy mage had only managed a few pitiful magic missiles before Navev had obliterated him with a single eldritch blast. The cleric had not even gotten off a spell; hit with a silence by Ghazaran, she had been cut down by Aerim in the initial charge.
And what a rush that had been. Jasek had arrived in time to see the former Bloodwraith take down a pair of warriors in a blur of steel and blood. He’d left a trail behind him, a path through the enemy camp that had been littered with bodies. A few of the Camarians had broken and tried to flee, but they did not get very far. Ozmad had flown into the camp holding a struggling Camarian by the ankle, the elf handling the larger human aloft with little apparent effort. The interrogation had taken only a few minutes; Jasek missed most of it, ordered to scout the area by Ghazaran. But it appeared that his initial guess had been right; the Camarians had been expecting them.
Well, the Camarians had been expecting trouble. He doubted that they really had been expecting anything like them.
They had not lingered long, as the mists were already beginning to thin under the glow of the sun rising over the hills to the east. Ghazaran had led them out into the dell, or rather, the rock pit that the Camarians had dumped on top of the entrance to Rappan Athuk. Jasek had considered this a serious obstacle, but that was before Ozmad transformed himself into a giant. At a command, his mattock had grown into a huge tool that had dislodged boulders and great clods of earth with obviously magical efficiency. What would have taken a team of a hundred men days had taken Ozmad just a few hours to complete.
Breaching the seals on the Well had been trivial; the Camarian glyphs of warding had barely fazed Ozmad. Getting down the shaft had likewise been easy, as Ghazaran’s wind walk spell had still had hours left on it. The cleric used another spell to move aside the water at the bottom of the shaft, leaving just a few minutes of scraping mud to reveal the hatch. Right where Ghazaran had said it would be. Jasek remembered thinking that it had been easy, too easy, thus far.
In hindsight, he’d been right.
The thief’s attention was drawn back to the present as the others turned back to the last pair of prismatic spheres. They gathered around the last pair, brilliant globes set into recessed alcoves opposite each other, a narrow space between to allow a sure-footed individual safe passage beyond. His companions all looked back at him, waiting with clear expectation in their faces.
Jasek sighed and stepped forward. Despite the potential for reward, despite the fact that this had already worked seven times, he still felt nervous using Dweomerblight against these shields. The Seer had provided a quite thorough explanation of the spheres when they’d first entered this gallery, including a detailed description of what the different colors within the protective bubble of light did to creatures that tried to force their way through. His sword had never failed him, but there was still something unpleasant about the thought of challenging something with the potential to kill you several times other.
But with the scrutiny of the others—and in particular, the greedy eyes of the Seer—full upon him, Jasek pressed forward. As he had seven times before already, he swept Dweomerblight up into the nearer sphere, starting low and then slicing the blade upward slowly. As it had against the ward in the Camarian vault, the sword tore through the shifting rainbow of bright colors, slicing an opening in much the same way that an inserted object opened a gap in the smooth surface of a waterfall. The tear started to close almost at once, resealing itself from the bottom, but it remained open long enough for Jasek to step through, into the protected area within.
When it closed, he was well and truly alone; an eerie feeling, with scintillating colored death spiraling just a pace away. The space within the globe was empty save for a low pedestal of white stone, like the others had been. This one supported a ceramic bowl, with about a dozen small objects inside.
None of the other pedestals had been trapped, but Jasek was careful.
He returned through the sphere a minute later, by the same means by which he’d entered. The bowl and its contents were tucked under his left arm. The Seer was there almost at once; no doubt he was being magically scanned by the wizard’s arcane sight to verify that he hadn’t picked up any new auras.
Jasek held out the bowl; the objects rattled around within. The Seer reached in and picked one up, holding it up to catch the almost blrnding light coming off of the prismatic sphere. He frowned.
It was an acorn.
The Seer snorted, and tossed the acorn back into the bowl. Jasek glanced at Ghazaran. “I take it you have no objection to my taking these?”
“Be my guest. But we must press on. We have already delayed too long in this place.”
Jasek dumped the acorns into his pouch, leaving the bowl against the wall next to the sphere. The eight prismatic spheres that they’d penetrated thus far, counting this one, had yielded a variety of odd treasures, and while the acorns looked unremarkable, he wasn’t going to assume that they were without value. He and the Seer had already disputed over whether the items they’d found fit under the definition of “ancient lore” and “monetary wealth” per the terms of their respective contracts. Jasek had ended up with a golden necklace that had supported a number of mithral plaques etched with strange designs. The item had radiated a very potent magic, but the thief had lived too long to experiment with unfamiliar artifacts. The necklace sat secure in his pouch.
A number of the spheres had guarded empty pedestals, but others had protected obviously valuable treasures. The Seer had claimed an odd bronze sphere encircled with bands of various metals, attached to the sphere in such a way that they could rotate concurrently around it. Other than the fact that it too radiated a strong magical aura, they had no idea what that device did either. Jasek had also turned up a more straightforward boon, a scimitar fashioned of brilliant, red-tinged steel. Like the other items, this one had radiated potent magic. Ghazaran had offered the weapon to Aerim, but the Duke had demurred, so the scimitar went to Falah, who carried it alongside his khopesh.
“There is one more sphere,” the Seer said, indicating the globe on the far side of the hall.
“Very well. Be swift.” Ghazaran turned away, and Jasek could see that Falah and Parzad were returning, the chaotic light of the spheres farther down the hall making their forms indistinct until they were close enough to greet without shouting. Jasek headed forward to confront the last sphere, but he moved with deliberation, and kept one ear cocked to pick up the scouts’ report.
“The energy barrier has reformed, and the damage to the chamber above has been completely repaired,” Parzad said.
“Were there any signs of pursuit?”
“No. But I... sensed something, a faint psionic disturbance. I believe that someone or something is working against us here.”
Jasek thought that was blatantly obvious; he didn’t need Parzad’s psychic talents to see that. From the moment they’d entered the vault they’d come under heavy attack. The vacuum trap had been clever, and it was really only luck that he hadn’t been sucked through the hatch along with Falah, Ghazaran, Navev, and Aerim when they’d used the three dagger-keys. The mud golems waiting in the chamber below had been... challenging, but once they’d recovered from the nasty fall and the chaotic aftermath of the trap they’d dispatched the creatures without too much difficulty. The dread wraiths had been more troublesome, and would have likely killed several of them had it not been for an extremely timely repulsion spell from Ghazaran.
Since then they’d had something of a reprieve, but Jasek thought of the missing treasures inside the spheres, and wondered what artifacts would be used against them by whatever guardians protected this place.
Once he was inside the last sphere, the thief moved quickly. The final treasure gave him pause for a moment, but finally he chuckled to himself and claimed it. He was faster out this time, and was standing back in front of the others no more than thirty seconds after he’d stepped inside.
The Seer snorted. “Flowers?” Jasek’s prize was a ceramic vase, full of a bouquet of brightly colored flowers.
“Magical?” Ghazaran asked.
The Seer was already focusing his arcane sight. “Bah. The aura is weak, likely a permanent preservation transmution. A waste of time.” He grabbed the vase from the thief, and hurled it against the wall. The noise of it shattering seemed unusually loud in the vast emptiness of the hall.
“That vase may have been a thousand years old,” Aerim said, “A relic of a vanished civilization.” The Duke had said little during their looting of the gallery; most of the time he seemed a thousand miles away, staring at things beyond the scope of this place. The only time that Jasek had sensed him really present was during battle; then Aerim had moved in a blur of deadly efficiency, accounting for one of the mud golems and at least four wraiths.
The Seer muttered something inaudible in response to the Duke’s comment. It was clear that the wizard appeared to be disappointed in their findings thus far. Jasek thought that was stupid; the big loot would be at the end of the complex, probably hidden in the same prison that held the Ravager. The necklace had been encouraging, and after Aerim’s last comment, he went back and picked up the ceramic bowl that had held the acorns, adding that to his haul.
“We must continue,” Ghazaran was saying. “Jasek, if you would?”
The rest of their company followed in the thief’s wake as he continued past the last spheres—walking very carefully through the gap between them—to the end of the hall. There a broad arch, a full ten feet high, opened onto a round chamber. The walls were perfectly smooth and featureless. The only appointment of note was a strand of golden fiber that dangled from a tiny opening in the ceiling. A small golden object hung from it, at about chest height. It was difficult to tell what it was from across the room, but it looked like a key.
Jasek lingered in the archway, studying the chamber intently. He dropped into a crouch, and ran a finger along the stones where the threshold met the chamber.
“Well?” the Seer asked. “There are no hostile magics here, nothing beyond the background auras of this place. Why do we delay?”
Jasek looked back at him. “I am wary of keys that appear without a lock.” He stood. “There is something wrong about the construction of this room. I believe that the floor is designed to collapse, or shift in some manner. I have my suspicions about the ceiling as well.”
Ghazaran glanced back at Ozmad, and again Jasek got the impression that more was said behind that brief shared gaze. The cleric looked back at his minions. “Parzad, if you would.”
The wilder stepped forward into the room. Nothing dramatic happened, and the Seer shot a sneer at Jasek, but the thief’s attention was focused entirely upon Parzad. He reached the golden cord, and reached out to take the dangling object in one hand.
He’d barely touched it when the ceiling came apart, as a massive metal frame, covering the entirety of the chamber and likely weighing several tons, crashed down onto the floor.
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