by Max Anthony
Behind the door was a passage. It was of a more civilised size than the crawlspace, in that it was wide enough for two abreast and high enough to stand upright without risk of injury. It ended at another door, this one furnished with a sliding metal hatch at eye level, through which one could peer. Viddo was wary lest a skeletal finger protrude through and make contact with his eyeball, so he did not immediately press his eye to the aperture. When nothing potentially injurious poked outwards he chanced a peek, to see what lay beyond.
“More dead,” he said grimly.
Without giving further explanation, he opened this second door without inspection, as if he’d known all along that it wasn’t locked or trapped. There was another square room, this time with only a single exit. Most dungeon rooms tended to be either square or rectangular and Rasmus had occasionally wondered if this was owing to a lack of imagination on the part of the people or creatures who built these places, or if it was part of a plan to lull explorers into carelessness by the familiarity of it all.
“This looks a bit messy,” said Rasmus. “Or at least it was probably messy until these poor fellows rotted away.”
The remains of three human bodies lay on the floor. They’d been crushed flat by something, their armours made wafer thin and pieces of their bones spread over a roughly circular area which was ten or twelve feet across. Amongst the remains, there were tiny fragments of what looked like glass or crystal.
“What happened here?” asked Jera.
“Another trap,” said Viddo grimly. “Look up at the ceiling. Can you see the seams which form a wide square in the middle of the room? I’ll wager that there’s a pressure plate directly beneath these remains, which triggers the release of a heavy stone block above us.”
“This far beneath the surface, traps are invariably designed to kill outright, rather than to simply injure or cause a hindrance. Woe betide those who set forth without a cautious thief to detect these devices,” added Rasmus.
From the pieces on the floor, it looked as if the dead might have been a wizard, priest and fighter. One of them had robes, which retained their bright blue colour even though their owner had seemingly died a number of years ago. The other two had been clad in plate armour and there was a broken sword near to the hand of one.
“Those robes look like they’d fit me,” said Rasmus.
“I’m sure they’d be a perfect fit,” said Viddo. “Except that we should probably leave them where they are.”
“Can’t you disable this trap?” asked the wizard in surprise.
“Not from in here,” said Viddo. “It would mean a trip to the place we’d entered and then I’d have to spend some time studying the workings again. On top of that, there were some traps that I don’t have the tools to disable – my supply of metal jamming pins is almost exhausted and I think I’d need something heavier duty to prevent the block above from falling.”
“Never mind,” said Rasmus. “It would have been nice to see what those robes were good for, but I’m sure I can wait until I find another set of them.”
Jera had a question. “Out of interest, why are the bodies still lying here? Someone has gone to the trouble of resetting the trap, which looks like it would have taken a great deal of effort, yet the victims have been left for all and sundry to see.”
“Not everything in these places is logical!” said Rasmus. “It might be that the bodies have been left where they lie as a warning to others that there are traps everywhere. It puts fear into the heart, you see.”
“And this trap may have been reset elsewhere, by means of pulleys and winches. Whoever reset it may not even have bothered to come and look at who they’d caught,” Viddo said.
“Or it could all have been done by magic,” continued Rasmus.
Jera had this strange feeling that no-one really knew why things happened down here. There again, she asked herself, what sort of madness must one have in order to build a place like this in the first place, or indeed to live inside it?
“We need to stick to the edges of the room,” said Viddo, telling them something that was already clear.
They followed the perimeter of the room. Viddo and Rasmus strolled around as if they had no concern that they might be shortly crushed by several hundred tons of solid rock. Jera was more circumspect and although she didn’t quite keep her back pressed to the wall, she made sure to keep her shoulder brushing against it at all times.
When she finished her half-circuit, Viddo already had the exit door open, and had proceeded through it with a wizard in tow.
18
This new door opened onto another passage, which turned a sharp left and then a sharp right, without apparent need for it to do so. At the end, there was no door that required opening and they were free to enter the next chamber without delay. Before they did so, Viddo insisted on holding them all up to point out where there had once been a door, which had slid along runners until it was out of sight in a recess on the right-hand side of the doorway.
“At least I disabled this one correctly,” he said.
They found themselves in another chamber, not entirely dissimilar to most others of its ilk. There were two further doorways, both of which were conspicuously lacking in doors. The walls were twenty feet to a side – which looked to be the template size for whoever had hollowed them from the rock. This room was different from the others in that it was illuminated by four glass balls which were embedded in the roof near to each corner. What interested them most was the stout metal chest, which was sitting upon a low pedestal. If this chest had possessed eyes, it would have definitely been winking at them.
“I can’t recall the last time I visited a place that shouted ‘traps in here’ quite so loudly,” said Rasmus. “Just look at it. As soon as we get within five feet of that chest, there’s going to be poisonous gas, explosions and then panels will open in each of these walls to permit the ingress of hideously powerful undead.”
“He’s a bit of a cynic, as you can tell,” Viddo said knowingly to Jera.
“I am starting to gather that repeated and long-term exposure to the dangers of an underground world makes one especially wary,” she replied diplomatically.
“Whichever the words you use, I think our wizardly friend is about to find that this room is an exception to the norm.”
“How do you mean?” asked Rasmus, scratching his head in puzzlement.
“All of these doors were meant to start out closed,” replied Viddo. “Once we’d forced entry, they were designed to spring shut, trapping us within. While the trapped us was trying to open the doors, we were meant to succumb to the temptation and open this chest, which would have triggered all manner of unpleasantness as you have already surmised.”
“So I was right, then?” asked a nonplussed Rasmus.
“Of course you were right,” said Viddo, clapping the wizard across the shoulder. “But our access to the dungeon master’s back room allowed me to disable the nasty machinations of this unknown being. In this room at least, I have been successful.”
As if to demonstrate his confidence, Viddo strode purposefully towards the chest. Not five paces away, they all heard a loud click, pregnant with threat and menace. Nothing untoward happened and Viddo took another two steps, whereupon a clunking was heard. Finally, as the thief came to stand right in front of the chest, there was a whirring sound, heard faintly through the rocks.
“There, you see? I can get some things right when I put my mind to it.”
Rasmus and Jera joined Viddo at the chest, their approach resulting in several clicks and clunks from directions unknown.
“It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” admitted Rasmus.
The chest was almost five feet long. What had first appeared to be a metal construction turned out to be a type of stone that glistened and sparkled in a manner that made it look like dull iron when viewed from a distance. The lid of the chest was curved and the whole thing was wonderfully smooth to the touch. The only part of the container which w
asn’t stone was the lock – a surprisingly delicate affair positioned right in the middle.
“Are you going to open it?” asked Jera after a time. Her companions appeared to be lost in their own thoughts as to what might be contained within.
“In a moment,” said Viddo. “Sometimes it’s the anticipation of what lies within that is a reward in itself. There could be nothing inside, or there might be the most powerful item ever known. Until we open it and look, our dreams remain our own.” He seemed to shake himself out of his reverie. “However, before I have a go at this lock, there’s something else I must do.”
With that, he strolled casually across to one corner of the room. By following the thief’s trajectory, Jera noted that he was heading for what looked like a thin slit in the stone. When she stared at it, she realised that it appeared to be a peep hole and not one that was meant to be easily noticed.
“Hello,” said Viddo to the wall. “My name is Viddo Furtive and these are my friends Rasmus the Wizard and Jera Pillo.”
There was no spoken response, but Jera fancied she heard a thumping sound, as if there were something behind two feet of solid stone that was trying unsuccessfully to get out. Viddo stepped closer to the gap in the wall and looked through. He saw a pair of piercing blue eyes looking out at him, full of hatred and malevolence.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I jammed your hidden door so that it will no longer open. Now, we’re going to rob the contents of that chest over there. I’ll bet it’s filled with many splendid things.” There were more thumpings, heavier and more frantic this time.
“Anyway, I shan’t keep you,” concluded Viddo. “There are chests to plunder and liches to kill. I can’t stand around here talking all day.”
With that, he returned to the chest and, with a flourish, drew out his tools and began the task of outwitting the lock’s creator. The skills of this particular locksmith proved to lie somewhere between that of an oaf and a master. Viddo guessed that there were so many traps around the chest that they’d probably not seen the need to add an expensive lock. Consequently, it took less than thirty seconds for Viddo to disengage the internal bolts. It actually took them longer to get the lid open, owing to the slippery nature of the stone and the heaviness of the lid. Jera proved to be much stronger than she looked and after Viddo had struggled for a little while, she stepped in and threw the lid back.
“Well I never,” said Rasmus.
“Look at all of that,” said Jera.
“Can you hear something?” asked Viddo, tipping his head to one side.
As the thief’s expression changed from one of happiness to one of uncertainty, his companions continued to look at the wealth they had uncovered.
“Something’s coming,” said Viddo in alarm. “Lots of somethings.”
“They can’t come now!” protested Rasmus. “Look at all of this loot we’ve found.”
“You’d best pick it up fast. I think the undead have found us again.”
“Damnation!” said Rasmus, leaning over the chest in order that he could fish around inside it.
Jera snapped out of her fixation on the gleaming pile of metal within the chest. “Which direction?” she asked. Viddo pointed to one of the exit doorways. Through it was a corridor that led away and turned to the left at the extremes of the light. She cocked her own head, so that one ear was pointing into the darkness. There was nothing wrong with her hearing, but she couldn’t make out any sound. Viddo was standing to one side, also listening.
“Do they never give up?” he asked, without really expecting an answer.
“I suppose they have nothing better to do with their time,” offered Jera.
In the centre of the room, Rasmus was humming happily to himself as he dug through the coins in order to search out the good stuff. “A hammer!” he said, pulling out the largest item within. He looked at the weapon – it was designed for one-handed use. The shaft was plain and practical, the blunt metal head flattened on two sides, with markings etched into the other surfaces.
“Have a look at this,” the wizard called, throwing the hammer underarm towards Viddo.
The thief sheathed his long sword and picked the weapon up. “Magical and a good one,” he concluded. “No idea what it does, though.” He offered it to Jera. “I know you said you prefer axes - how do you feel about a hammer?”
“Hammers are good,” she replied, sheathing her own sword and taking the hammer. It felt light in her hand, as if it had always meant to be there. She made a few threatening swings with it.
Meanwhile, Rasmus had recovered a wand, a potion of some description and a tiny square of incredibly thin, black material. At first he thought it was a large handkerchief, but when he gave it a shake, it fell open to reveal a cloak, as black as anything he’d seen before. He tucked the items away, without really knowing why he bothered with the potion. It was never easy to find out what effects they had while deep underground and experimentation was rarely wise. Afterwards, he reached into the chest to recover what looked like a single scroll, which turned out to be two bundled together.
“They’re nearly here,” said Viddo from the doorway. “Found anything else?”
All three of them could hear the rapid pad-pad-pad of bare feet upon stone, coming inexorably closer.
“A few bits and pieces. We’ll need some time undisturbed to see what we’ve got.”
They had no time for waiting, or to fully investigate the contents of the chest. Viddo shouted that it was time to go and pulled Jera’s arm towards the last of the doorways from the room. Rasmus sighed as he looked into the chest. There was a lot of copper and silver inside, but also a lot of gold, with a few platinum coins mixed in for good measure. The trouble was, it would take a few minutes to separate the good stuff from the worthless, so they were going to have to leave it behind. Unwilling to leave without at least one or two coins, Rasmus reached in to where the gold was at its densest, scooped up a big handful of mixed currency and shoved it into an outer pocket of his robes. With that, he ran over and joined the other two, who had shown their good manners by waiting for him in the exit doorway.
At that moment, the first one of the undead burst headlong into the room through the passage on the adjacent wall. It was another of the grey-skinned not-quite-human figures that the trio had grown used to seeing in great numbers. The creature was joined by three more, each pausing for a second in order to get their bearings. Their prey hadn’t waited around to exchange pleasantries and the trio of adventurers were already running full-pelt away from their undead pursuers.
“A shame you jammed those doors open,” puffed Rasmus, as he struggled to keep up with his fleet-footed companions.
“I am more concerned that we might find ourselves fighting creatures to the front as well as creatures to the rear,” said Viddo in reply. The thief was all too aware that they were running into the unknown, with possibly hundreds of low-level undead waiting to drag them down if they were delayed.
Those self-same undead were behind them now, twenty yards back along the corridor in which the adventurers had found themselves. The passage wasn’t yet crowded with the grey folk, and only the swiftest were within sight, maybe ten or twelve in all. The adventurers passed two closed doors on the left wall, but the corridor itself showed no signs of ending. It turned three times in a zig-zag and then become straight for a distance ahead. Rasmus took advantage of the opportunity presented by this lack of deviation and pulled out his two recently-appropriated scrolls, which he unfurled and attempted to decipher whilst running at full speed. It was not an easy task; his friends pulled away from him and the undead closed the gap until they were less than ten yards behind him.
Through the jouncing of his footfall, Rasmus managed to read the magical writing on the two scrolls. They were not the fireball spells which he had fervently hoped they would be. Instead, he’d pilfered a couple of identification scrolls that would definitely be useful, albeit not at that precise moment. He cursed once or twice
and tucked the scrolls away again.
The wizard’s distraction, though well-intentioned, had permitted the closest of the pursuers to reach him. These were the fastest of the undead and they proved up to the task of overhauling a preoccupied wizard. Rasmus heard the closest of the footsteps, almost level with him. Then he felt something brush against the back of his neck as an undead hand lunged forward in an attempt to grab his neck for the purposes of throttling.
There was a loud, echoing clang, which sounded exactly like an undead face hitting a metal shield at high speed. This was followed by an ugly crunching sound, which was peculiarly reminiscent of a blunt metal object hitting an undead skull. There were some swishing and chopping sounds as these most eager creatures discovered that it would have been better to await the arrival of the horde before coming within striking range of Jera’s magical hammer and Viddo’s magical sword.
As soon as he’d seen Jera slow and wheel about with her shield in place to strike, Rasmus had also slowed, intending to lay about him with his cosh. Instead, the first thing that came into his hand was the wand he’d taken from the chest. In the hands of any other profession, the workings of this unassuming piece of dull metal would have remained a mystery. In the hands of Rasmus the Wizard, the wand waved an intricate pattern through the air.
There was a bright flash in the corridor, pure and golden, with a soothing quality to it. It seemed incredibly bright, but none of the trio found that it seared their eyes or left them blinded. The flash was accompanied by a deep thumping sound, which reached their ears a moment after the light had touched their eyes. If the adventurers did not suffer any ill-effects, the same could not be said of the nearest undead. The flesh upon their bones melted and fell away, disintegrating into nothingness. This did not happen slowly, rather it happened within the blinking of an eye, leaving nearly a dozen skeletons frozen in the corridor, standing in the poses they’d been in before the light had struck them. Unsupported by either muscle or willpower, the first of them toppled, followed by the others, leaving the floor a clutter of their bones.
