by F. P. Spirit
“Dragon dung!” Glo swore under his breath. “How are we going to stop these things?”
Around the other side of the pillar, Seth reached into his bag, this time pulling out a small parchment. He unrolled it and pulled out a sticky piece of white cobweb. Seth held the sticky material in his hand and began another set of intricate motions, ending with the words, “Aranea Repere.”
All at once, the soles of his boots adhered to the ground. He was able to lift them with some effort, but when he set them down again, they stuck fast.
“Nice,” he whispered to himself. The phantom armor still thrashed about in the pool of grease as Seth advanced into the black puddle. His feet adhered solidly to the ground, as the effects of his spell negated the effects of the black liquid. When Seth reached the armor, he bent down and gave it a slight push. It moved easily. Seth chortled to himself. This just might work.
The halfling nimbly dodged out of the way as the armor lashed out at him, his mind still racing. It all came down to one thing—if these windows were like the door on the first floor, his plan would work. Seth hustled to the nearest archway and placed his hand into the opening. Sure enough, it passed right through. Seth could hardly contain himself. It will work!
The halfling spun on his heel and ran back to the other side of the pool. The armor still floundered in the middle, completely covered with grease. Seth grinned from ear-to-ear. Even better.
He crouched down and mentally crossed his fingers, then took off at a dead run. Seth slammed into the flailing suit and pushed against it with all his might. The armor was so heavily greased that it shot forward in front of him, sliding across the pool, not even slowing down when they hit the edge.
“Alana, move!”
Seth was still running full tilt when he heard Ruka’s cry, but paid little heed. The archway was fast approaching when a flash went off behind him and a crash of thunder reverberated throughout the chamber. Seth ignored that too—the armored suit was flailing wildly, and if he slowed down he might not reach his goal. The arch was now dangerously close, but Seth continued to push until the very last second. He finally let go a couple of yards from the window, planting his feet and praying his boots would stop him in time. Unfortunately, they did not. Seth’s forward motion continued, his speed and the grease from the armor counteracting his spell. He watched with grim satisfaction as the phantom armor reached the archway and slid through, immediately plummeting out of sight below, then Seth himself was over the edge.
As he fell, Seth made one last attempt to grab onto the edge. Miraculously, his hands caught hold, grasping a slight lip that was there. His body, however, continued to swing outward, dangling over thin air. Luckily, his grip held. In an amazing feat of agility, Seth pulled his knees up and managed to hit the side of the monolith with the soles of his boots. By the grace of the gods, his feet stuck. He hung there for a few moments on the side of the monolith, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.
“Well, that was fun,” he said to no one in particular.
Seth glanced behind him and saw the phantom armor broken into pieces on the ground far below. A brief smile crossed his lips, and then the halfling hauled himself back up into the chamber. As he pulled himself off the floor, Seth caught sight of something bright out of the corner of one eye. Above the archway, a Dwarven rune had lit up. Seth’s eyes went wide. He suddenly understood. He spun around and screamed at the top of his lungs, “Elladan, grease them! Throw them out the windows!”
“Dragon dung!” Glo swore under his breath. “How are we going to stop these things?”
“You did say they feel no pain,” Aksel reminded him.
“And that they won’t stop until they’re utterly destroyed,” Elistra added.
Glo took in a deep breath and blew it out in an attempt to calm down. “Yes, yes, I know...”
He was interrupted by a shrill cry. “Elladan, grease them! Throw them out the windows!”
That was Seth, but this time his voice came from behind the pillar. The inspiring music abruptly stopped. Elladan peered at Glo, a single eyebrow arched. “Say what?”
Glo was just as perplexed as Elladan. Grease them? And throw them out the window? Is he serious?
Glo peered at Aksel, but the little cleric merely frowned and shook his head. Even the normally unflappable Elistra appeared surprised, her comely brow furrowed. Seth’s voice rang out once more, nearer this time. “It’s another puzzle! Throw them out the window they started from! A rune lights up!”
It was Glo’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Now that sounds just plain nuts. He shouted back to the halfling, “Seth! If you are joking...”
Seth cut him off. “Always! But not this time!”
Glo didn’t know what to think. The idea of greasing the phantom armors and throwing them out the windows seemed ludicrous. Elladan and Aksel appeared equally uncertain. Elistra, on the other hand, broke out into a wry smile. “If the chakra tattoos were any indication, Larketh did appear to have a strange sense of humor.”
Aksel gazed at the seeress and shrugged. “I guess it can’t hurt.”
Elladan’s eyes moved from Elistra to Aksel, then he shrugged as well. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”
“Aim for the one battling Alana and Ruka,” Aksel instructed him.
Elladan gave a brief nod, put away his lute, and started weaving his spell. Meanwhile, Aksel turned toward the armor between Lloyd and Donnie, and began a spell of his own. Glo was puzzled—as far as he knew, the spell to create grease was not a divine one.
“What are you going to do?” he asked the little cleric.
“I’m going to try to dispel the magic imbued in the armor,” Aksel responded, not taking his eyes off his intended target.
Elladan’s spell released first. A pool of black liquid appeared under the armor, causing it to wobble as it tried to maintain its balance. It teetered precariously for a moment or two, then hit the ground with a resounding crash, its large black sword clattering away across the stone floor. Unfortunately, Alana also lost her balance, landing unceremoniously on her steel-encased butt.
“Sorry, my lady!” Elladan called to her.
Alana spun her head toward him, a thin smile across her lips. “I’ll forgive you this time—next time, perhaps a little warning might be in order!”
Ruka, in contrast, had no trouble with the grease pool. She slid over to Alana as if skating on ice, and helped the lady knight up to her feet, escorting her out of the pool while the black-armored phantom continued to splash around. While Ruka assisted Alana, Aksel cast his spell. “Nullam Depelle.”
A circle of violet light appeared around Lloyd, Donnie, and the armor between them. Two things happened simultaneously—the phantom armor halted in its tracks, and the flames around Lloyd’s blades winked out. Man and elf waited cautiously, but the black armor remained still. Suddenly, the armored suit began to shake, then all at once fell apart, crashing to the ground in a heap of steel.
“It worked!” Elladan cried, clasping Aksel firmly on the shoulder.
Glo, however, was not so certain. “For now maybe, but if the magic holding it together is stronger, it will just reassemble itself.”
Aksel gave him a grim nod. “Good point.” The little cleric cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Lloyd, Donnie! Quick, throw the pieces out the window!”
The duo stood over the armored heap, cautiously inspecting it. They glanced up at Aksel’s words, nodded briefly, then sheathed their weapons and scooped up as many pieces of the armor as they could carry. Lloyd grabbed the heavy breastplate, the tassets, and the helm while Donnie picked up the gauntlets and the greaves. As they hurried toward the nearest window, Ruka got Alana to solid ground. The young teen then turned toward the stairwell, a thumb pointed at the black armor still floundering in pool of grease behind her.
“What about this one?”
Glo immediately pointed at the archway behind her. “Out that window.”
A half-twisted smirk spread across Ruka’s lips. “Got it.”
Ruka strode back into the pool of grease, not slowing her pace in the slightest. Upon reaching the black armor, she bent down, knocked a flailing arm out of the way, and began pushing it in the direction of the archway. Glo watched appreciatively as the young teen sped faster and faster, but then noticed something strange. A faint golden glow appeared around Ruka’s body, and her hair rose of its own accord.
Glo arched an eyebrow. Just as Donnie had described during her battle with the troll. He cast a quick glance at Elistra, but the seeress paid him no attention, her gaze fixed firmly on Ruka, that familiar enigmatic smile on her lips. When Ruka was about five feet from the archway, she gave the armor a tremendous shove. The motion stopped her in her tracks, and simultaneously launched the armor directly at the open archway. It quickly reached the window, then flew out into the open air, swiftly disappearing from view as it fell over the side of the monolith. Above the archway, a rune he hadn’t noticed before suddenly lit up.
“It appears that Seth was right,” Aksel said, with just a hint of surprise. Moments later, Lloyd and Donnie dropped their pieces out the window, a rune above them also lighting up.
“Looks like Seth already has the last one,” Elladan said with a soft chuckle.
In all the excitement, Glo had forgotten about the third phantom armor. He spun around now and saw the last black armor flat on its back, flailing around in another pool of grease. Seth stood just outside the pool, his hands on his hips. There was no sign of Elistra’s astral construct, other than pieces of what could only be ectoplasm scattered here and there. The four of them sprinted across the room toward Seth, Aksel calling out ahead of them. “What’s the problem?”
Seth spun around to face them, a thin smirk on his face. “I already pushed one of these things out the window. Someone else can take care of this one.”
Glo, Aksel, Elladan and Elistra all exchanged glances, then burst into laughter. Leave it to Seth to make light of what could have been an otherwise disastrous situation.
“That’s alright Seth, we’ll get someone else to do your dirty work,” Elladan said in between chortles.
Lloyd, Donnie, Alana, and Ruka all came running up at the same time. Ruka nodded toward the still-flailing suit of armor. “What’s up with that?”
Elladan broke into a wide grin. “Seth’s too cerebral to take care of this last one.”
Seth’s head tilted down, his eyes squinted as he glowered fiercely at the bard. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a fricken genius. Now can someone with a bit more mass than me push this thing out the window?”
Runic Wheel of Fortune
I think these rings are actually wheels
When the last suit of armor fell out the window, the final rune lit up. A few moments later, the grating noise of stone against stone drifted down from the ceiling far above. Seth climbed the stairwell and confirmed that the way up was clear, but the small company decided to rest a while before moving on.
Miraculously, other than a few bumps and bruises, no one had been harmed in the strange battle with the phantom armors. Still, everyone felt drained. Judging by the outside sun, it was now mid-afternoon. They had been inside the monolith perhaps a couple of hours now, but with all that had happened thus far, it felt like it had been a lot longer.
Elladan broke out some bread and hard cheese for everyone to share. They gathered around and ate the short meal, refueling their depleted bodies. At the same time, seeing the outside world again bolstered their spirits. A breathtaking view of lush treetops spread out like a dark green ocean before them. Off in the distance, to the north and west, tall black peaks rose up to meet the deep blue sky. Those were the Korlokesel Mountains, the range taller and more barren here than its greener counterparts that bordered the western edge of the Bendenwoods to the north.
After a short break, the companions gathered at the northern window. In the clearing far below, the Knights of the Rose were still setting up camp. Six smaller tents formed a circle around a large one. A number of small, silver-clad figures busily hammered long wooden stakes into the ground, creating a pike fence around the entire encampment. Directly below them, two tiny knights had gathered around a broken suit of black armor. Occasionally, they would look up at the monolith and shake their heads. Alana opened her mouth to cry down to them, but Aksel interrupted her.
“That may not be the best idea.”
She turned her head and stared at him uncertainly.
Elladan placed a hand on her shoulder and explained in a gentle voice. “We still don’t know what happened to the cultists, or where they might be now.”
“Oh, right,” Alana replied, her expression turning grave.
Glo understood her desire to communicate with her fellow knights. A lot had happened in the short time since they entered the monolith, and it would be best to keep them informed. He had an idea. “If you want, I can summon Raven. You can tie a note to her leg and she can carry it down for you.”
Alana turned toward the wizard, her face lighting up. “That would be most kind of you.”
Glo smiled back at her as he mentally called Raven. Their telepathic link unerringly led the bird through one of the darkened windows in the monolith’s side. Alana quickly scribed a note, which Glo then tied to bird’s tiny leg. Raven then flew back through the window and spiraled down to the clearing below. The companions watched on as she winged her way around the encampment, finally settling on the top of a pole bearing the pennant of the moon next to the center tent.
A silver-clad figure with short dark hair approached the bird, reached up, and took the note from it. The knight unfolded the parchment and read through it. Once done, he glanced up at the monolith and waved. From this height, they could barely make out the line of a dark beard across the figure’s face. It was Sir Craven.
Sir Craven disappeared into the large tent, reappearing a few minutes later. He strode over to the waiting bird, attached something to its leg, then stood back as Raven spread her tiny wings and lifted up off the pole. She slowly spiraled upward above the camp, and winged her way back toward the monolith. Raven again unerringly navigated through the dark window and landed on Glo’s outstretched arm. Glo retrieved the note from Sir Craven and handed it to Alana. The lady knight unrolled the parchment and read its contents out loud.
“All is well here. The fortifications will be done before dark. The woods are clear, and there is no sign of cultists. The black armors were crushed from the fall, but we will disperse the parts as you suggest. Good luck and godspeed. Sir Craven.”
Alana breathed a sigh of relief, the tension fading from her armored shoulders. “Well then, gentlemen, whenever you are ready.”
Aksel responded with a thin smile, then nodded. “I agree. We should get moving.”
The small company gathered up once more and ascended the winding stairwell around the huge center pillar. Seth led the way with Donnie close behind, the latter wanting to learn more about spotting and handling traps. Seth begrudgingly agreed, with the caveat that Donnie was not to touch anything. Donnie appeared crestfallen, but agreed. The stairwell passed through another section of solid stone, but there were no blade traps this time. Other than Donnie, no one seemed disappointed.
Daylight filtered down from the top of the stairs here as well. When they reached the top of the stairwell, it opened up to another large chamber. Like the room below, this one had an archway in each wall, the mid-afternoon sun streaming in and brightening the entire area. Yet unlike the other rooms, the stairs ended here, the center pillar rising only a few feet above the floor, ending in a flat, round surface. Far above, all four walls rose to meet at a single point.
Glo let out a deep sigh—
they had finally reached the top of the monolith. As he stepped into the room, his attention was drawn to the dais at the top of the pillar. The entire thing was covered with carvings. The others noticed it as well, the entire group gathering around to see what was engraved on it. The wide dais had three concentric rings around its perimeter. Inside the rings was a large circle, three yards in diameter, decorated with an intricate pattern of curved and crossed white lines on a purple background.
“That’s the symbol of Larketh,” Elistra explained to them. “It’s supposed to depict how all life is interconnected and intertwined. Personally, I always found it a bit convoluted.”
Glo gave the seeress a sidelong glance. He had seen the symbol before, but it was not widely known, only appearing in the most obscure of texts. His father, of course, had a copy, but yet again, he had to wonder where Elistra studied Larketh. Elladan mirrored his thoughts.
“You seem extremely well versed in history, milady, especially those things having to do with the Thrall Masters.”
Elistra eyes moved from Elladan to Glo, her cheeks turning a light shade of scarlet. “Oh, it’s just a hobby of mine,” she said with a negligent wave of her hand.
Seth let out a derisive snort. “You have some weird hobbies, lady.”
The rings around the dais were each divided into 36 sections, every section with a symbol carved on it. The symbols on the inner ring were immediately recognizable as a combination of letters and numbers from the Common tongue, starting with the letters ‘A’ through ‘M.’ The alphabet was interrupted at that point by the numbers ‘0’ through ‘9.’ Beyond that, the alphabet continued with ‘N’ and finished with ‘Z’ in the 36th slot.
