Deethan's thoughts swirled through a variety of images as he slept, an image of a wide and majestic valley, a tall wizard's tower surrounded by ice and snow, a high mountain ridge and a feeling of flying. At one point, he relived the scene at the house, when the assassin came through the window, but this time he experienced it from the viewpoint of Fathesque, even to the point of twitching as the crossbow bolt hit him.
These dreams faded after a while and he drifted into a deeper sleep, awaking later when Keld gently shook him.
"It's morning" said Keld simply. For a moment, Deethan struggled to shake the sleep from his head, then nodded to Keld, noting the faint light of early dawn coming through the broken windows. Stiff from sleeping on the floor, he mused for a moment that it was still a million miles better than when he had slept in the pitch black of the underdark three years earlier on his flight from Haundrauth. Pulling out his spell book, he thought for a few moments, before he selected some spells to learn. Half an hour later, he replaced the book into his pack, and shifted to his feet, his stomach rumbling from lack of food. Keld, who had spent the time going through some exercises, moved to the exit and peered onto the street.
"Looks clear at the moment..." he said, glancing over his shoulder. "But we do have to get over the river to get to the Fallen Tower... Any ideas how we can avoid being recognised by the Town Guard?"
"I think, Keld," replied Deethan, "we will chance the following route and hope that Tymora is awake this morning. We will cross the Dolphin Bridge when its at its busiest, you will dress as a beggar and I will use a spell to briefly change my appearance to fool any guards. Then following the river road round past the shining serpent it should be relatively free of prying eyes to get to the fallen tower. By the time we reach the tower I should have finalised a plan as to what to do when we arrive."
Keld grimaced. "How come I get to be the beggar eh?" He looked himself up and down, pursing his lips, then glanced at his axe and crossbow resting against his heavy pack. "I'm not sure beggars usually carry weapons..." he said slowly. He raised one well muscled arm and flexed it. "And I'm probably in slightly better condition than a beggar would be..." he added, grinning for a moment at Deethan.
The half-orc fighter sighed, shook his head in a kind of resigned way, and started to search around a suitably ragged looking cloak to cover himself with. "I dunno how your disguise spell works, but if you can carry my weapons and pack, I guess we might be able to pull it off..." He glanced over his shoulder at Deethan. "Can't say I really want to leave anything here for anyone to find.."
Pulling a blanket out of his pack, he draped it over his hide armour, so that it mostly covered his large frame. Hunching himself, with the blanket clutched tight around his neck, he feigned a limp, and lurched around the room like some sort of demented hunchback.
"Copper for an ex-leper?" he asked with a grin. He turned and lurched his way over to where water had leaked through from the ceiling above, and rubbed his hands in the grubby patch on the floor. When he turned around, his face was streaked and dirty, but he still looked pretty much like Keld. "'ere, your good at disguises.." he said. "Help us out a bit!"
A short while later, after Deethan had made better use of their limited resources to make Keld look and smell less like a warrior with a blanket over his head, and more like a diseased leper living on a diet of decomposing rats, the pair peered out onto the quiet side street. Noting the sound of the bustling city around them, they eased out onto the street, and approached the busier road ahead, where already the morning traffic was building, as various people made their way to start their work, or to buy their provisions for the day.
Merging with the general throng, the pair got a few stares, particularly Keld, who, having, with some reservations, been induced to rub his covering blanket in the rotting corpse of a rat they had found in a back corner of the ruined building, now found that he had a clear path through the crowd, as all shied away from the stink.
With his axe and crossbow wrapped up in another blanket in his arms, almost as if he was carrying some form of long angular and dead baby, Keld lurched along, hunched under his blanket, one edge cowled around his face as he followed his friend.
Deethan, his father's dark piwafwi cloak pinned around him and also cowled around his head despite the beginnings of a warm day, strode several paces ahead, disassociating himself slightly with Keld. His eyes scanned the crowd, constantly looking for the characteristic uniform of the city watch.
On one street corner, he spots something that pulls him up short, and for a moment, he stares at a new poster put up on a public notice board.
Wanted for questioning about a
MURDER!
Deethan Vajek
and accomplice
Keld Hulim
There was a very rough sketch of his likeness and another of Keld staring out at him. A few passers by also paused to read the new notice. He heard one say to another. "Say, isn't that that young Chultian, the black guy who lives next door to Johnsoon's?"
Not waiting to hear the answer, Deethan quickly moved on, leaving the street corner behind him and hurrying towards the Dolphin bridge. Sure enough, as he paused a block away from the bridge, he could see a fair throng already crossing it, and also several of the town guard, simply watching the passing people. He glanced back towards Keld, catching the imitation leper's eye, then stepped into a darkened doorway, where he started to cast his spell.
Moments later, he stepped out again, this time in the guise of a white male human, dressed as a trader. He strode onto the bridge, some 10 paces in front of Keld, praying to Tymora that all would be well. Amazingly enough, although the guards peered suspiciously at Keld, the smell put them off looking too closely, and they let him pass. A few minutes later, in quieter side streets, Deethan allowed the spell of illusion to drop, and he and Keld continued their journey to the Fallen Tower.
Rounding the final street corner, the pair looked at the unusual inn, reflecting on how apt it's name.
Looking like the broken base of a circular tower, which is exactly what it
is, the stones of the fallen upper section had been rebuilt into a single story
addition to the tower. The tower's wine cellars
and staff rooms are located in the circular section, and the taproom is in the
newer part, with the jakes at the far end.
The tower was once the home of a noted wizard, Llomnauvel "Firehands" Oloadhin. He was a thin, balding, rather sour man who became obsessed with the mastery of magic. He was determined to rule the city that was his home when his magic was mighty enough.
Unfortunately, he came to the attention of the Arcane Brotherhood, which resolved to take his magical items and spells for its own. The Brotherhood?s members attacked him in his tower one night several decades ago. Spells raged like glittering starfalls through the night air, and Llomnauvel proved a tough opponent. Paranoid about rivals, he'd prepared for just such an attack with a network of spells waiting on spell triggers. Many of them were specifically intended to trap and rend hostile wizards, and they worked very well.
Over a dozen of the Brotherhood were slain, mind-blasted, or transformed into helpless forms of marine life and hurled out to sea as the evening passed. This angered Glagorn, the Overwizard in charge of the attack. Glagorn knew the harsh criticism, and, probably, assassination attempts he'd face if he failed. So, the Overlord resolved to take Llomnauvel alive. He planned to torture Llomnauvel and make him testify as to just what had occurred. Glagorn hoped this would clear the attackers of bungling the job. He also hoped to compel the outnumbered wizard to tell his attackers just where the traps and magical treasures were. He'd not reckoned with Llomnauvel's state of mind. Brought to bay in his spell chamber, wands exhausted and spells gone, the wizard unleashed a final spell that hurled down the tower and burned away the lives of all within it, including the Overwizard, the surviving Brotherhood mages, and Llomnauvel himself. All enchanted items in the tower were drained to power this shattering magic. The spell has left behind a side effect: clear and solid-seeming phantom images of the mages as they were hurled down from the tower.
Late every night, at the precise time of the explosion that destroyed the tower, one can see the soundless phantoms of two terrified Brotherhood mages, limbs blazing, falling down like rag dolls. The tavern takes advantage of this by railing off the area where they appear through the ceiling and plunge on to vanish through the floor. These first two are followed by the astonished, struggling figure of the Overwizard, whose limbs are turning to eels that rend the rest of him and boring into his silently shrieking mouth just as he vanishes through the floor.
A little later, the figure of Llomnauvel follows. He descends upright, his lower limbs skeletal as flesh and robes alike vanish in a spiral of lightnings that are burning up and around his body. All that is left as he vanishes through the floor is his terrible, triumphant smile.
The show of silent images is greeted each night by a respectful hush and a crowding forward to look. The tavern master usually strikes a bell over the bar to warn of the imminent manifestation, which has been repeated now, despite dispel magic attempts, for over 30 years. Both Deethan and Keld, at a couple of points during their stay in Neverwinter over the last few years, had witnessed this magical memory, and already knew of the inns other curiosity.
Deep beneath the old tower there are cellars, but no one knows just how deep they are. The cellars predate the tower, and may be part of the Underdark or a disused, isolated dwarven stronghold. The staff lets adventurers enter the cellars for 4 gold per person. Some do not return. Those that do tell tales of boring empty rooms and and a complete absence of any treasure - magical or mundane. Some emerge scared and pale, but telling only of ghostly noises and lights, scaring them from exploring too far. Yet still some come to visit, drawn perhaps by the mystery of those who don't return.
Whispers in the taproom say that Llomnauvel was breeding monsters and storing them in stasis bubbles in his cellars. He may have had a whole army of guardians. They're said to include mimics, bulettes, a gibbering mouther, bonebats, and others. Supposedly, the bubbles are now failing due to age or disturbance, releasing the monsters to roam, though there is little evidence to support this theory - no returning adventurers have ever actually fought anything beyond their own fears.
Almost wishing it were evening, so that they could experience the spectacle again, Deethan and Keld crossed the street towards the inn. Deethan paused to allow Keld to enter by the rear entrance, so the "leper" could visit the jakes to change out of his disguise and clean himself up somewhat.
Entering by the main entrance, Deethan strode towards the bar, taking in the scene. In a far corner, a group of four dwarves were drinking heavily - probably a continuation of a session the night before judging from the look of them. Another table held three adventurers, drinking quietly despite the early hour - a good hour before the midday bell. Two were armoured, one with the symbol of an upright gauntleted hand plastered all over his armour - most likely a priest of Torm the Brave - or Torm the Foolish as some would know the god. The other looked more like a straight fighter by trade - a broad sword slung casually over the edge of his chair. The last didn't look like a fighter - lacking in muscles and armour with no visible weapons - probably a magic user or someone who preferred to fight from the shadows Deethan estimated.
The last two patrons in the inn were sat at the bar, a short way from the bored looking inn-keeper, polishing a glass with a cloth. At Deethan's entrance, one of them, a somewhat weasel looking fellow who Deethan didn't recognise, looked around, taking in the black skinned man in the doorway before turning back to the bar, seemingly disinterested. The other remained facing forward, taking a sip of his drink. Reaching the bar, Deethan glanced over to the entrance to the jakes, where Keld was just making his way into the room. A couple of paces down the bar, the same man who had looked around at Deethan's entrance, looked around again at Keld's entrance. Getting straight to the point, Deethan engaged the inn keeper in conversation.
"I understand you allow people to look into your cellars" he started. At his side, he caught a glimpse of the weasel faced man glancing around. A voice from behind also chirps up and he heard the sound of a chair being pushed back.
"You going down into the cellars?" asked an enthusiastic voice. As Deethan glanced around, the non fighter type of the three adventurers approached the bar, having obviously overheard Deethan's question. "Want some company?" he asked, glancing back at his companions to see if they agreed with him. "We've heard the stories, and we were discussing going down there ourselves."
"It'll cost you 4 crowns each!" warned the inn-keeper, eying the men and quickly calculating a 20 crown profit for himself.
Deethan glanced at Keld, who shrugged, and then back to the small party of adventurers. "Yeah why not" he replies.
The muscled man also stood, pausing to flex his muscles and also to size up Keld, before extending his hand. "I'm Lucretia, this is Henrick, and that's Herod" he said by way of introduction. Deethan, deciding there was no reason to hide his name, also introduced himself and Keld.
"That'll be 4 gold each" repeated the bar tender, almost rubbing his hands in glee, "and in advance, as not all that go in come back out!" he added with a grin.
Delving into some of the dead assassin's blood money, Keld hands over a couple of platinum pieces.
"Keep the change for now - it'll pay for our lunch when we come back out!" grins Deethan.
Gathering their belongings together, the three adventurers joined Deethan and Keld as the inn-keeper led them to the passage through to the kitchens. A large trap-door lay in the middle of the floor, which he lifted with some effort to reveal a steep stone staircase leading down. "Will you be needing lanterns? Torches? Any other equipment?" asks the inn-keeper, looking for an additional sale.
"I have light" replied Herod, opening a pouch slightly to reveal a bright light shining out.
The innkeeper, disappointed, shrugged, then indicated the open trap door, now clearly blocking the passage to the kitchens. "I'll have to close the trap door in a minute - just knock loudly on it when you want to come up!" he said, turning back towards the tap room at a call for more ale from the dwarves.
Quickly moving down the stairs, Deethan and Keld allowed their dark vision to acclimatise to the darkness, moving quickly forward and away from the light once they reached the end of the stairs. The cellars, with arched 15 foot high ceilings coming down to large five foot square pillars spaced at 15 foot intervals, seemed quite massive, and had been presumably built to support the weight of the tower above - though was obviously no longer supporting such weight.
Behind them, they could hear the others coming down the stairs behind them, light spilling towards them from the priest's light stone.
"We'll stay ahead of you so we don't loose our night vision" called Deethan over his shoulder, continuing onwards.
After some 100 feet or so of barren looking cellar, there was a crash of the trap door being closed behind them, shutting the group into the cellar. A few paces further on, Deethan spied a large square hole in the floor, off to one side. Another set of stone stairs led down. Curious, Deethan motions to Keld, and the pair of them start to descend. At the bottom, some 30 feet further down, the stairs ended at a junction - the passages cut from the solid rock led left, right and straight on. As Keld took a few steps to the left, confirming that it ended in a small cell like room, Deethan moved straight ahead into a large 40 foot square room with a sunken floor. In each corner were statues - a dwarf wearing spiky looking gauntlets, a human holding a heavy looking hammer, an elf with a simple staff, and a minotaur holding nothing. Not wishing to spend too long looking at the room, Deethan returned to the foot of the stairs, where he hears some noises from up above - a grunt of pain, followed by the sound of someone armoured hitting the floor. The pair quickly and silently moved up the stairwell, pausing just before coming out in the cellar above.
Some 80 feet straight ahead, Deethan could see what looked like the body of Herod, lying with his light stone shining on the floor beside him next to his outstretched hand, casting large shadows into the cellar. In the distance, some more movement could be heard. Bidding Keld to stay close to the stairwell, Deethan slipped out and into the shadows. A glimmer of movement to his left, away from the light, directed him, and he snuck his way silently towards the unknown figure. Reaching the last brick column, Deethan spotted Henrick, cowering in fear in the darkness.
"What happened?" Deethan asked, making the man almost jump out of his skin, having not heard the silent half-drow approach.
"It was one of those men at the bar - I-I didn't see them follow us in, but he just appeared as if from no-where and gutted Herod's throat as if he were an untrained sheep herder!" The man was obviously rattled. "Lucretia turned to attack the man, but he disappeared into the darkness again, and I ran, seeking the shadows" added the man.
"Follow me" commanded Deethan, placing a hand on the man's shoulder and leading him back towards the trap door down. As they reached it, there was a cry of pain from the opposite corner of the room, and again the sound of someone collapsing to the floor. Keld glanced at Deethan, his eyes wide in the darkness. "Stay here" commanded Deethan again to the adventurer Henrick, as he gestured to Keld, and the two of them moved silently away into the darkness. At that moment, a loud voice spoke out into the darkness.
"Come on Vaijek. I know you've got the sceptre - it's all I want. Bring it here and you and your friend Keld can live."
Deethan, pausing to cast spider-climb, took to the ceiling, climbing up a pillar and onto the uneven arched ceilings. After a moment, he spotted the body of the fighter Lucretia, lying in a pool of widening warm blood on the cold stone floor. Close by, a figure - the silent one from the bar - stood leaning against the wall, casually cleaning his blade. Pulling the sceptre from his belt, Deethan pointed it at the man, willing him to freeze. Sure enough, the magic of the sceptre proved powerful, as the man suddenly stopped moving, his hands still held in mid wipe of blade. Silently, Deethan crossed over the ceiling above the man.
Again, the same voice calls again, and Deethan can see another man, leaning against the wall of the stair case heading up to the trap door above. "Come on, don't make me have to come and get you" the man says in an impatient tone. Almost holding his breath, Deethan, having stowed the sceptre in his belt again, drew the ornate curved dagger he had taken from Fathesque's house, and comes down close to the assassin who had killed Herod and Lucretia. He drew the blade rapidly across the assassin's throat, slitting the man's jugular and causing a fountain of blood to spurt onto to cellar flagstones. The man who had spoken glances around, his eyes widening as he spots Deethan killing his companion.
A complex spell gushed from the man's mouth, and he pulled what looked like a leather glove from a pocket, throwing it at Deethan. The glove expanded into a huge shimmering hand, that slammed into Deethan, ripping him from the wall and pushing him remorselessly away from the spell caster.
"You're starting to piss me off now!" exclaimed the man angrilly. "Now drop that sceptre before I rip it from your bloody corpse!" he says, starting to cast another spell.
Deethan, still being pushed backwards, used his final memorised spell, and a spark of magical energy zipped from his finger tip before the other mage could finish his spell. The missile shot around the hand, across the widening gap and struck the mage. Whatever spell the mage had been about to cast, fizzled and failed, his concentration momentarily lost as he is jolted and scorched by the magical energy..
Still, being shoved backwards, Deethan watched as a figure appeared, running from the shadows and slamming a battle axe into the disconcerted mage. There was the sound of steel on stone, and although the mage was knocked sideways somewhat, Deethan had a sinking feeling as he realises that the mage was obviously protected in some way from Keld's attack. Muttering a few arcane phrases that Deethan couldn't hear, the mage invoked a ball of fire some three feet wide to appear right at Keld's feet. The half-orc warrior cries in pain as the heat and flames wash over him, and smoking somewhat, he turns and runs into the darkness. The mage watched for a few moments, keeping the ball running after the fleeing warrior, a smile of satisfaction on his lips.
Meanwhile, pressed against the far wall, Deethan found he was trapped, unable to do a thing and almost unable to breath from the pressure. He thought about pulling the sceptre from his belt again, but decided he was probably now too far away to use it anyway, and instead, slashed awkwardly and somewhat fruitlessly at the giant hand with the dagger he had used on the assassin. A glimpse of movement and a sound off to his right caught his attention, and he spotted Henrik, the man having somehow gained a bit of back-bone, reading from a scroll at the edge of the light from Herod's light stone. With a sparkle of disjoined magic, the hand suddenly winked out of existance, dispelled by the scroll's mahic. Deethan didn't waste any time, and dropping to the ground, he raced towards the stair down that he and Keld had already scouted.
Henrick had already come to the same conclusion, though he paused as he passed Herod's body to grab the dead priest's satchel bag and his light coin.
"Ah, I see you've discovered another of the sceptre's powers!" came the voice of the enemy mage, mistaking the source of the dispel magic spell that Henrick had cast from the scroll. Changing tone, the mage's voice could be heard echoing through the cellar, intoning some new powerful spell. Keld, already close to the stairway leading down, didn't need encouraging, and the three of them race down the stairway. Up above, a gutteral voice that Deethan recognises as that of a minotaur answered a command of the mage, and he knew now what spell the mage had cast - a summoning spell of some sort. He prayed it had only a short duration.
At the bottom of the stairs, the three immediately turned right, and headed down a long corridor. Behind them, the sound of the heavy foot falls of the summoned minotaur on the stairs could be heard. Reaching the end of the corridor, Deethan was faced with a door or a turning to the left which opened into a larger room. He glanced at the door, wondering if it were perhaps trapped. Over his shoulder, panting from the run, Henrick took one look at the door.
"It looks trapped to me!" he gasped, panting from the run, and then turned for the larger room. Deethan and Keld followed - realising they probably wouldn't have had time to open the door anyway before the minotaur caught them.
The large room had a sunken area across it's centre - filled with some form of liquid. As the three of them splashed through it, they could smell that it was in fact oil, or at least water with a significant amount of oil on the surface. Reaching the other side, Deethan immediately stopped, and grabbed at his belt pouch, pulling out his flint and steel. At the other end of the room, the minotaur came into view. Nearly eight foot tall, with vicious looking horns on either side of it's bull shaped head, the creature appeared to be virtually made of muscle, and held a large battle axe in it's hands as easily as Deethan held a dagger. It roared a challenge in it's own tongue, spittle flying from it's snout as it started to advance menacingly across the room.
But Deethan's spark from his flint beat the monster to the oil, and flames sprung up in a sheet, roaring their own challenge back as they flared across to fill the room with flames. Deethan, almost falling backwards away from the flames had to scramble quickly to safety as the heat washed over him. The minotaur, about three paces into the oil as the flames rose towards him, skidded to a halt and also back-peddaled as the flames rose around him. Making the relative safety of the raised ground at the far end, the minotaur roared in frustration and pain as he was forced back by the flames. Clouds of smoke from the oil billowed up to the ceiling, and Keld nudged Deethan. "We can't stay here!" he said urgently.
As the smoke started to billow out of the blazing room into the corridor, Deethan and Keld turned to face the corridor. Three doors, two on the opposite wall, and one on the far right hand end of the corridor. Already, the thief Henrik was running down the corridor to the furthest one.
"Check that one!" said Deethan to Keld, jerking a thumb to the closest one slightly to the left, moving to the middle door himself. Finding the metal door slightly ajar, Deethan pushed it further, exposing a long five foot wide corridor, disappearing into darkness. He glanced right, seeing Henrik turning back from the end door.
"Dead end!" the thief said, hurrying back towards him.
"Nothing but a room with a pool of water!" interjected Keld, also hurrying back.
Coughing slightly from the smoke rapidly filling the corridor, the three moved quickly into the new corridor, shutting the iron door behind them.
"That should stop the smoke!"Keld commented, noting the good seal on the door.
The three moved quickly down the corridor, knowing that the minotaur would probably fetch the mage in short order and that the flaming oil wouldn't hold them for long. Another metal door soon came into sight, an obvious key-hole and door handle showing how it should open. Trying the door, Deethan cursed as he realised it was locked, but a set of lock picks appeared in his hand, and moments later, the door opened under his ministrations. The door opened easily to a well lit circular room, the ceiling arched high above. In the centre of the room, a dry fountain stood, shaped into a dolphin. Two other metal doors led from the room, one to the right, and one straight on. Set into the centre of the ceiling was a stone, enchanted to provide the light.
"I'll check this wall for a secret passage, Keld, watch the corridor" Deethan commanded. Glancing towards the nervous looking theif, Deethan jerked his head towards the door to the right. "Why don't you check that door out?"
Henrik scowled slightly at being ordered about, but complied anyway, opening the door and disappearing from view.
"Hey, this door doesn't have a handle or lock on this side!" said Keld suddenly. Looking at the lock he had just opened, Deethan reaiised that the door would automatically lock if it were allowed to close.
Meanwhile, Deethan started to study the north wall. After five minutes, he was about to give up, when he finally discovered just what he was hoping might be there. A concealed door.
Craftily concealed, but similar in design to doors he had seen in Haundrauth, Deethan had almost overlooked it, but his questing fingers finally managed to find the stone that triggered the hinge, and a block of stone swung out, revealing a short dark corridor, leading some thirty feet away to another door - the back of another secret door if he wasn't mistaken.
Henrick, returning from the southern corridor, hurried over. "Hey, well found!" he said.
"What was over there?" asked Deethan.
Henrik shrugged. "Not a lot - I followed the corridor to a couple of empty looking rooms, but decided to return before I went too far."
Turning to the corridor, Deethan slowly started to make his way down it, feeling his way with his feet. After only five feet, he stopped dead. "There is a pit or something concealed here!" he said, bending down and feeling the edge with his fingers. Getting down onto his knees, Deethan slowly pushed his head through the illusionary floor, and found himself looking down into a pit, some 10 feet across. In the middle of the pit, large three foot spikes protruded from the floor, and impaled upon them were the remains of what looked like an adventurer. Turning around, Deethan lowered himself into the pit, before easing his way through the spikes and examining the corpse. Feeling only slightly squeamish, Deethan rifled through the body, seeking out possible belongings of value.
Within moments, he had pulled out three flasks, including one of plain looking pottery marked with the symbol of Naptha - "liquid fire!" Taking a moment, Deethan peered at the other two potions, pleased to see that they too were labeled! One was marked with the word "Haste" written in Northern script. The other was marked with the word "Strength." Putting them carefully into his satchel, the bag still quite full with the various bits of loot purloined from Fathesque's house.
Continuing past the body, Deethan leapt up and grabbed the lip of the pit on the other side, pulling himself up. Marking the floor on the other side, he called to Keld and Henrik to join him. Keld, allowing the metal door that had led them into the fountain room to close, came to the entrance of the secret passage.
"There is a pit here" explained Henrik , pointing out the unseen edges of the pit to Keld. Taking a run up, the theif cleanly jumped the intervening 10 feet, and joined Deethan as he started to examine the wall at the far end of the passage, convinced he would be finding another secret door.
Making a note of where the hidden pit lay, Keld turned back to the secret door, peering through it to keep an eye on the fountain room. For several minutes, there was silence as both Deethan and Henrik contnued to search for a secret door, prodding and poking at the wall without success. After about five minutes however, there is a metal crash from the door in the circular room, and Keld hisses a warning.
"Close the door!" said Deethan urgently, running and leaping across the invisible pit. Complying, Keld quickly pulled the secret door shut as there were continued sounds of battering coming from the other side. A moment later, there was a tremendous crash, and then the noise of muffled footsteps and voices came from somewhere on the other side of the stone door. Inside the secret passage, the three held their breath, listening intently as the voice of the magic user was heard issuing commands to someone, presumably the minotaur judging from the gutteral responses.
For the next twenty minutes or so, Deethan and Keld listened to the various noises coming from the other side of the wall, whilst Henrik clambered into the pit, and started to search for another exit. At one point, it sounded as though a large and heavy object were being dragged around, and then all went quiet. A further five minutes went past, and finally, Deethan's curiocity got the better of him, and he cracked open the door. Beyond, he could see the circular room much as before, however this time, the minotaur was in it, sitting on what seemed to be a broken statue. Hearing the noise of the door opening, the minotaur glanced around, it's eyes widening as it spotted the slab of stone that cracked open to reveal Deethan and Keld peeking out. With a roar, the minotaur surged to it's feet, and charged forwards.
"Shit!" exclaimed Keld, lugging his own axe up in preparation to defend himself. From down in the pit, Henrik also cursed, looking over his shoulder wide eyed at the sound of the charging minotaur. Keld steped forward to meet the charging bleamoth, and the two warriors swung axes at each other, both connecting solidly. Keld grunted in pain, and staggered backwards, seriously injured by the vastly stronger minotaur.
"Hey you over-grown cow!" yelled Deethan, seeing Keld obviously in a bad way. The minotaur lifted it's head and snorted loudly, ignoring Keld and leaping towards Deethan, who, eyes narrowed, invoked a small globe of darkness over the miotaur's head and ducked to one side. With a roar, the beast burst through the darkness, missing Deethan and then suddenly stumbling into the invisibe pit. Kenrick squeaked as he suddenly found himself virtually face to face with the minotaur, the creature shuddering in shock as it found itself impaled on the spikes on the bottom of the pit, the corpse of the other adventurer squashed below it.
As Keld staggered back inside the secret passage, Deethan pulled the secret door closed again.
"By the gods!" exclaimed Henrick. Shuddering, he turned back to his frantic search of the end wall as Deethan quickly examined Keld. Deethan saw very quickly that Keld needed more help that he could give him. Suddenly he remembered the second vial of healing potion taken from the assassin.
A few minutes later Henrik made an exclamation of satisfaction, and there was a grating of ancient stone moving. A narrow staircase was revealed leading up from an opening at the far end of the pit. Looking around, Deethan nods. "Good work!" he said, before a noise behind him made him freeze for a moment. The angry voice of the mage could be heard.
"Deethan Vaijeck!" called the mage. "You will rue this day! Give up the sceptre now and your life will be spared!"
Deethan and the injured Keld needed no encouragement, and moved quickly, clambering down into the pit, making their way towards the secret stairs, even as they could hear the mage casting a spell behind them. A moment later, and the door springs open with a loud clang, and there is a pause, as the mage viewed what to him, looked like an empty corridor. By the time he had determined that there was more to the corridor than met the eye however, the three fuguitives had passed through and closed the secret passage behind them.
***
Beyond, the three followed a narrow passage, then a stair, rising to what looked like the back of another secret stone door, a heavy piece of stone suspended on massive recessed iron hinges. Aware that the mage behind them could be on their tail at any moment, Keld quickly pulled on the obvious opening mechanism, pleased when it moved smoothly, opening to reveal a wide, almost sterile well lit corridor, some 20 feet across and eighty foot long. They paused momentarily, surveying the contents of the corridor. Lit by a directionless light, evenly spaced down each side of the corridor were pairs of opaque egg like structures, suspended in mid air and some eight to ten feet high, leaving a clear walkway only about six feet across down the middle of the room.
Hearing what sounded like some form of explosion somewhere behind them, the group quickly pushed on down the corridor, not wanting to stop and examine too closely the "eggs", or the slightly darker shadows suspended inside them. Nearing the half way point, Henrick points to a dark stain on the floor near the far end of the corridor - right between where the last pair of eggs would have been had they been there. "Blood!" he hisses nervously.
"I don't like the look of this!" mutters Deethan, breaking into a run towards the only visible exit to the gallery like room - an archway leading to a set of stairs heading down.
Passing the last pair of eggs, there was a popping noise, and the sound of two separate thuds, as something hit the floor on either side of the running group. Two gutteral roars announced the presence of two trolls, released from some form of stasis, an ancient magical trap created by the mad inventor of this strange underground complex. Without pausing, the three find a new urgency in their feet as they hared down the short stairs, which seemed to decend only about 10 steps before a short landing, and then rising again on the other side.
Reaching the top of the steps, Deethan skids to a halt, looking back down the stairs as Keld and Henrick raced off to the left, towards an obvious door on the left hand wall of this new L shaped room.
Sounds of movement could be heard, as the trolls orientated themselves, starting to descend the stairs on the far side of the dip. Delving into his satchel, Deethan quickly pulled out the recently gained pottery flask. Sincerly hoping that it did in fact contain the liquid fire it proclaimed to contain, he hurled it down the stairwell, at the feet of the trolls appearing. It smashed into the stone, splashing the area with it's lethal contents, the liquid bursting into intense flame on contact with the air. The trolls recoiled, roaring loudly. Deethan turned and ran across the room, towards where Keld was impatiently watching Henrick's shaking hands, as the thief tried to unlock the obviously locked door.
"Come on! Come on!" hissed Keld impatiently.
"I'd like to see you do better!" retorted Henrick.
"Oh get aside! Let me try! exclaimed Deethan, flexing his fingers and pulling out his own lock picks. Almost pushing Henrick aside, he too bends over the lock, fiddling with it for a few moments before hearing the satisfying click of the tumblers.
Hearing another roar and another distant explosion, Henrick doesn't complain, looking back in fear. "Who the hell is that bastard!" he exclaimed. Looking back at Deethan as the dark skinned half-elf pushes open the door, he scowled. "And what is it with the sceptre he's after?!" he demanded.
Another roar from the trolls, braving the dying flames in the stairwell behind diverted Henrick's attention, however, and the question went unanswered as the three of them quickly pushed through the metal door, pushing it shut behind them. As the others ran on, Deethan turned and cooly re-inserted his lock picks, working to re-lock the door. With moments to spare, he felt the door lock, the sound of approaching trolls audible on the other side, moments before the door shook under a heavy blow.
"Come on!" urged Keld, the injured warrior gesturing for Deethan to follow from the corner of the narrow corridor they had come into, some twenty feet ahead. Deethan nodded, aware of his heart hammering in his chest and the beads of sweat on his forehead. Racing after Henrick, the pair rounded the corner, down a further thirty foot of corridor and into a large well lit room, some fourty feet square.
The centre of the room was dominated by a large shaft, some fifteen foot across. The domed ceiling, twenty foot above them was supported on several large pillars, grouped around the shaft. The walls of the room were inlaid with murals depicting scenes from around the world, a sunset over an ocean, a forested valley, a mountain peak and so on. Off to the left, a pair of double doors could be seen, near the corner of the room. Henrick was peering into the pit.
Deethan paused, aware of the banging on the metal door down the corridor behind them. It had looked strong enough, and would probably hold the trolls, he hoped, but at the same time, the sound was clearly echoing through the complex, and would draw that maniac wizard after them like a moth to a flame. He also approached the pit, peering down into the darkness below. "Look, there's a rope!" exclaimed Henrick suddenly, pointing to a rope that was tied to the bottom of one of the stone columns, it's other end snaking over the lip of the pit and disappearing into the darkness.
Henrick shone the light stone he had taken from his dead companion Herod down the pit, trying to make out the end of the rope. "I don't think the rope is long enough to reach the bottom..." he says slowly, as Deethan makes as if to climb down the pit.
Keld shakes his head as well. "I'm in no condition to start climbing ropes!" he adds, favouring one side as he stood still, catching his breath. He turned his head towards the fairly ornate pair of double doors. "I think our options are fairly limited at the moment" he says, wincing as he moved over to the doors.
Cursing fluently in drow, Deethan moved to join his companions. These doors were not locked, and opened at a push to reveal a ten foot wide corridor leading away. Columns spaced regularly on either side of the corridor showed writing carved into them. On the nearest pair of columns, were written the words "Here" and "Be". The three moved slowly down the corridor, Deethan tapping the floor with his foot as he edged further and further down. The next pair of columns read "Treasure" and "Adventure" respectively. Keld and Deethan exchanged a silent glance, wondering what this corridor was leading to. The far end of the corridor seemed to be in darkness, and as they got closer, they could tell that it was more than just the absence of light - it was obviously some form of magical darkness.
The next pair of columns read "Battle" and "Test", and the pair after that "Life" and "Death."
"This sounds ominous" muttered Deethan, reading the last pair together. "Last Chance" he says out loud.
Behind them, there is a loud and somewhat distant clang - that of a metal door being burst open perhaps, and Deethan risks a glance back.
"Why don't you just give him the sceptre!" said Henrick desperately. "Surely it's not worth dying for!"
"No chance" Deethan retorted, glancing at Keld and seeing a similar resolution in his friend's eyes. "Are you still with us?" he asked the frightened thief, as they paused on the boundry of the darkness. Gripping hold of each other's arms, the three stepped forward, feeling their way into the darkness.
Behind them, a distant voice roared. "Vaijek! You're already dead but you just don't realise it yet!"
Suddenly, Deethan felt a lurching sensation, a feeling of being stretched and pulled in all directions. The darkness disappeared in a flash of vibrant colours, pungent smells and a roar of static, before resolving into what looked like a stone wall, the experience leaving Deethan feeling nauseous, disorientated and with a headache. To his side, Keld retched once and staggered against a wall, letting go of Deethan's arm. On the other side, Henrick also released Deethan and shook his head as if to clear it. "What the hell happened!" he exclaimed, blinking and looking around...
On to Chapter Four - where Deethan, Keld and Henrick wonder where they've arrived...