by Skyler Grant
“The food is simple, but not poisonous,” Maria said. “I expect you’ll find it quite terrible.”
“We’re all starving,” Ashley said. “I almost grabbed a few rats back there to start chowing down on. I can go for an underground salad.”
Walt didn't look quite as enthused, but moved to sit down. I started to join them and felt Maria’s arm slipping into mine.
“We’ll eat in my chambers,” Maria said.
We did, eventually, after I got a lesson on just how passionate the slaughter really did make her. I think by the time we ate our fungus, I was nearly as battered from her as I had been from the earlier fight.
“I half-expected you to betray us back there,” I said, picking at the stem of a mushroom.
“Idiot. While it is a sensible thing to prepare for, it is a stupid thing to expect. What had we to gain?”
“Our gear, and preventing me from reaching the top floor and claiming the throne,” I said, watching her eat. I could barely stomach the fungus. She seemed to have a hearty appetite.
“What possible interest would I have in your armor? You’ve seen my state of dress.”
“Err… I mean you might not use it yourself, but...”
“Yes, perhaps I shall take a lesson from the rats and jam enough spiders into it to make a king?” Maria's wit was really rather cutting. I liked it, although not on the receiving end.
“I get a sense of threat from you. Of danger,” I said.
To my surprise she was pleased.
“I am dangerous, Liam. I may be human on the outside, but I was raised by spiders. I like to have helpless prey, I like to wear my enemies down and watch them suffer. I am not a nice person, not in the slightest. But I am a person who is on your side.”
“So you're saying I have nothing to fear?”
“You are my lover and an ally of the spiders,” Maria said flatly. “You have a great deal to fear, but not from us. Not today.”
I studied her, I really studied her. I tried to see past the pretty face and shapely form. I wondered how someone could seem both so strong and so broken.
“Good,” I said finally.
Maria flashed me one of her rare smiles. “Then we should probably go and rejoin the others. Everyone must be prepared for the trek up to the next floor.”
“Are you? I mean, are you sure you wouldn’t like some armor? Or a weapon? While the poisonous fume trick worked great on rats, I don’t think skeletons or zombies would care.”
“I do have a class, you know. I am not defenseless.”
“I didn’t, actually. Nothing I’ve scanned so far that I could see.”
Maria frowned. “You are probably doing it wrong. Give me your hands. Let me show you.”
I reached across the table, both my hands palm down and she accepted them, spiders scurrying away from the touch.
“In a fight you can look at about just anything and get a brief summary. You can do the same for things innately hostile to you. Sentients are different,” Maria said. “Touch makes this easier, but it is not required. You want to know me. Focus on that. Reach out.”
For a time nothing happened, then I felt a slight niggling at my consciousness. A sort of tugging which I yielded to and a status screen popped into view.
Name: Maria Aldera Sardonis
Position: The Queen of Spiders
Level: 9
Class: Monk (The way of the Spider)
Relationship: Lovers
Do you wish to use your sense virtues spell?
I considered that last prompt, before thinking my assent.
Primary Virtue: Fortitude - The ability to withstand terrible things and be unbroken.
Primary Vice: Pride - An intense focus upon oneself and their own righteousness.
“I did it,” I told Maria, “I also got a prompt asking me to sense your virtue.”
“Spiritual classes tend to have it. So what are mine?”
“Fortitude and Pride, which I can totally see.”
“They fit,” Maria said. “Yours are Faith and Lust, if you were curious.”
“I think if I argued the latter you wouldn't believe me. But I find the first one strange.”
“You who are on a mission from a Goddess to claim a throne find it strange that you might be considered faithful?” Maria spoke in that deadpan tone of hers. “Idiot.”
Ouch. I hated when she was right.
“So how do you know so much?” I asked. “Things like using these abilities with just the spiders for company?”
“I never said I had just the spiders for company. The levels below us go far deeper than you might believe.”
“Is that where you learned to be a monk, whatever that is?”
“It is where I started the path. A monk is a martial artist. Bare-handed fighting, usually wearing little to no armor. Styles are based on the study of something in nature.”
“Spiders, in your case,” I said, suddenly understanding.
“I knew a few,” Maria said. She tilted her head to the side as if listening and added, “The others are getting anxious to be off.”
With a clatter of armor I pushed back from the table and rose to my feet.
The others were more than ready to go, for which I couldn't really blame them. They had rather less in the way of pleasant diversions to occupy them and the spiders—while being incredibly hospitable for spiders—still fell a bit short as innkeepers.
Soon we were headed back through the territory that once belonged to the rats and from there we had another staircase to climb. Halfway up we could already hear the sounds of movement, the clatter of bones and the dragging of dead flesh on the ground.
Cautiously we made our way upwards.
Chapter 16
Having been given the warning that the next floor was entirely occupied by the undead I’d expected something grim and horribly depressing. Instead, we found all the torches lit—despite that the undead didn't much like fire. The stairs, unfortunately, didn't continue.
Through a nearby arch a skeleton was carrying a large pumpkin that I could only assume was fake. It was followed by a zombie who had a bundle of some sort of hay.
Ashley slipped behind me to have a peek.
“Well, fuck me sideways,” Ashley said. “Not a literal invitation, Liam. Are they having a harvest festival?”
“Spookyfest,” Maria said.
“Spookyfest?”
“It’s a holiday. There are costumes. Spooky ones.”
“That skeleton appears to be wearing a puppy mask.” I pointed.
“Idiot, do you expect it to wear a skeleton mask? That would be silly,” Maria said.
“Huh.” My piles of Charisma failed as my brain struggled to process that one.
“Perhaps they are so distracted we might simply sneak past?” Maria said.
“Let’s try. Failure doesn’t really put us in any worse of a position than we are now. Anyone have a guess where the next stairs up would be?”
“This floor is for the servants and guards. They should be nearly everywhere leading to service areas above,” Walt said.
I took a peek down a hall. At the far end an armored skeleton clattered past on patrol, it looked to be wearing a turtle mask. Trying to tip-toe as best I could in medium armor, I made my way to the first door.
It opened to a large hall, probably the servant’s mess. Long tables and benches stretched into the distance. It appeared to be mealtime. Almost every place was occupied by a skeleton or zombie, place settings before them, although there was a notable lack of food. Pumpkins and dried corn decorated the tables. One bony head swiveled at the door opening and those empty sockets almost seemed to widen in alarm. Its bones began to rattle.
The sight of every head in that hall turning in our direction is something I’ll never forget.
Having determined that I’m absolutely horrible at being stealthy, I tried to shoo the others back. We pulled away from the door and slammed it closed as a mass of bodies rushe
d towards me.
Unfortunately, and to be expected given the size of the hall, they had plenty of other doors to choose from. Moments later we were flanked by a truly alarming number of guards.
I didn’t like the look of the odds in a fight, so I hoped my Charisma might have some effect even on the undead. “We are diplomats from down below,” I said loudly. “We mean you no harm. Perhaps there is someone that we could speak with?”
Everything went still. At least the skeletons appeared less likely to stab us. The door was opened again and with gestures of swords it was made clear we should pass through.
The skeleton guards guided us into the mess hall and a table was cleared in the middle. Carefully we sat as a watchful ring formed around us. It seemed we were waiting for someone.
“Diplomats?” Ashley said. “A mountain of Charisma and that's the best you can come up? Not, ‘we brought you pumpkins for Spookyfest’. Not, ‘excuse us, we seem to be lost can you point us towards the bathrooms’.”
“That pumpkin one is pretty good. Do you think it would have worked?”
“That is the point of high Charisma. Do you think smart and clever people have to take high scores in it? No, you take high Charisma so that even the dumb stuff is clever. It’s a stat absolutely made for you.”
“My Goddess thinks I’m clever,” I grumbled.
“Crazy be crazy,” Ashley said.
“Are you two lovers as well?” Maria asked.
That shut us up.
We were left in awkward silence for perhaps half an hour as guards kept a watchful eye on us and finally a new figure entered the hall. It was the most well-preserved zombie we had seen to date, skin a pallid sort of green, but otherwise he looked very nearly human. A bald man who looked to have died in late middle age. He was dressed in a set of robes only a touch tattered, patched and re-patched any number of times.
It was to my considerable surprise that when he spoke it was in words, not some variation of, “Aaaarrrgggh”.
“I understand that you claim to be diplomats from somewhere below the castle,” the zombie said.
“Err, yes, you see the spiders and… we have your pumpkins for Spookyfest?” Ashley elbowed me hard in the stomach. Oof. Even through the chainmail, oof.
She said, “Might we know who we address and your role here, before we make introductions of our own?”
“I am Wimbley, Chamberlain of Castle Sardonis. Currently I speak for the castle. We’ve had some challenging times, as you can likely see. I don’t see these supposed pumpkins. Who are you?”
Ashley got in first again. She clearly was going somewhere with all this.
“Ashley Winters, Walt Green, Liam Ottani” Ashley said, gesturing at us each in turn. “And, of course, you know Princess Maria Alera Sardonis.”
Wimbley’s head snapped towards Maria, as did nearly every head in the room. His expression seemed nearly hopeful, then his eyes narrowed. “I would very much like to believe you. She does have Queen Alera’s eyes and chin, but it has been three centuries since the castle fell. We skeletons and zombies have made it so long, but she is clearly neither.”
I reeled from the revelation of just how old Maria actually was. I had no idea what to make of the age difference—although it didn’t seem to stop us from having fun. Still, awkward...
Wimbley said, “Pale skin. Ethereal beauty. Sinister attire. Spiders. Has the Princess become a vampire?”
“I am the Queen of Spiders,” Maria said in that regal tone of hers that wouldn’t be denied. “Not of the undead.”
Wimbley considered this and offered a sweeping bow. “Your Grace. It has been a very long time, I remember you only as a baby. What has brought you back to the castle?”
“I never left. As you say, I was but a child when the catastrophe struck. None of you had risen again. I was taken below and raised by the spiders,” Maria said.
Wimbley said, “A vampire in these halls would have once raised great alarm. Now it is hardly fitting for the undead to fear each other. But your companions?”
“Human,” Maria said. “One my lover, the others his followers. I am still not a vampire.”
Wimbley gave me a disapproving look. “Sleeping with the undead is unseemly,” he said primly.
“We were hoping to travel to the floor above,” I said quickly, hoping to change the subject. Maria was looking of a mind to start punching things.
“You had best abandon that hope. We delight in the presence of her Grace again and welcome you all to stay as her guests. But you should know that the floor above is a place you must never go.”
“I do not like to be denied,” Maria said, annoyed. “Why?”
Wimbley managed to look terribly vexed, a strange expression on a zombie.
“The curse, of course. Being lesser undead, we are especially vulnerable to it.”
We all asked, more or less in unison, even Maria, “What curse?”
Wimbley looked surprised. “Do you not know? Do you truly not know what happened here?”
Chapter 17
It was clear none of us had a clue, even Maria, who it had affected so greatly.
“Explain,” Maria said.
“That there was a threat to the castle was no surprise,” Wimbley said uncomfortably. “Your Father had any number of seers in his service. Your Grace likely does not recall that her birth was somewhat contentious for the prophecies associated with it. Heralding the fall of the Castle from its rightful place in the world.”
“Go on,” Maria said.
“Castle Sardonis was to fall to an evil force, and then that evil would sweep out across the land. Your Father and Mother were well-loved. Once, your father was a fearsome warrior who proved himself during the orc wars and your mother had a way with people. They formed alliances across the land, built fortifications, turned this place into a fortress to keep their family safe. No army would take this place, and no army did.”
“You say ‘well-loved’ almost as if it was in the past tense even then,” I said.
“Queen Alera was a woman prepared to make compromises. The rumors were that she made too many.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“His Majesty was not a man to compromise. It drove a rift between then, and by the time the tragedy fell she was no longer welcome in her own castle,” Wimbley said.
“So, just what did happen?”
“A powerful curse. It was a day of audiences when the King would meet with the people and hear their requests. None of us present now were there, but something happened. Dark mist began to billow throughout the castle. Most of those it touched became twisted, warped and corrupted. We here are those that were away or fled below ground. For some reason the mists never followed us.”
“What happened to my father?” Maria asked.
“We can only assume that he was corrupted by the mists. They were at their strongest when first released,” Wimbley said “The Archmage Vighas teleported away with the rest of your family. We thought you were with them, but...”
“Clearly not. I was forgotten, but I was rescued eventually. Why was I uncorrupted by these mists?”
“Are you untainted, your Grace?” Wimbley asked with some concern.
Maria paused. The question deserved some deep consideration and I was curious as to how she would respond.
“I am not in the thrall any outside force,” Maria decided. “I act of my own accord and in alignment with my own plans.”
Wimbley nodded.
“As you say, your Grace. Perhaps you were so young they had no effect upon you? Perhaps they did, but with so much time away you have returned to your senses.”
“Why are you still unaffected? It seems a poor curse that can’t climb down a flight of stairs,” Walt said.
“Then it is a poor sort of curse, for it is indeed defeated by stairs,” Wimbley said with a weak little smile. “I don’t think the curse had been fully formed. Not yet. When a shield was raised around the Castle it did n
ot just keep the curse trapped in, it weakened it as well.”
A powerful magic barrier protecting the world from what was locked up within. Oops. The others and I shared a look.
“So if the curse didn’t kill you, what happened?” I asked. The room was filled with the dead, after all.
“We were prepared for a siege with supplies for a long time, but not forever. We starved,” Wimbley said quietly. “We starved, rather than go up the stairs and be corrupted. In time most of us rose again and returned here to live out eternity.”
Quest completed!
Unravel the mystery
You have learned the fate of Castle Sardonis although many details remain unclear.
“Are you certain the floor above is still dangerous?” I asked.
“We send scouts every few years. The mists still roam the halls and prey upon their minds,” Wimbley said. “For us lesser undead it is very dangerous. Most of us are simply going on as we did in life, proceeding endlessly along the same path. Shift that path slightly and we might never return to ourselves.”
“You think it would be different for the living?”
This mattered. If we couldn’t even go up those stairs, this was over before it started.
Wimbley gave a helpless shrug. “I am no mage, but what have you to gain by trying? If you can live some sort of life in the levels below, seize it. If you love her Grace, then let her turn you into a vampire as well and stand as some testament to eternal undead devotion. Let the others go upstairs and find what joy they may.”
Errr… My brain froze. How could I politely explain to the chamberlain that I was not actually in love with Maria? What if she thought there was more? When I’d considered zombie attacks, I never thought of something like this.