by Jenner, M
Kern looked through the telescope at the wall; the colours from the lens deciphered the scribbles. “Not so worthless after all,” he said. “The wall says, ‘Water the diamond’.” Reaching into his backpack, he took out his water canteen and splashed its contents onto the diamond. It fizzled, spluttered, and started to melt, until finally it had disappeared entirely, leaving behind a hole in the wall.
Kern peered in. “Look,” he said, reaching in and pulling out a star-shaped key.
“I bet I know where that fits,” Galandrik said. They headed back to the first room, being careful not to slip from the wooden blocks, and Kern fitted the key into the lock until they heard a click.
The door opened inwards. Beyond it was another corridor, sloping slightly downwards. They walked down the stone tunnel, lighting the wall torches as they went. This corridor was wider than the others had been, and felt strangely warmer. After some ten minutes of walking, they reached an arched opening; beyond this was a huge circular room, its wall lined with sarcophaguses. In the middle of the room stood a massive statue of a skeleton warrior; there were no visible exits. The room was well-lit by wall torches all around its perimeter.
“I sense evil,” Nuran said once more, passing the torch to Solomon and drawing his two-handed sword. Kern drew his bow and notched an arrow, and Galandrik hefted his axe.
Kern, Nuran, and Galandrik walked cautiously into the room, mindful of Nuran’s warning. But just as they crossed the threshold, a portcullis dropped, trapping the three in the room with the statue, and locking Ty and Solomon out.
“Prepare to die!” bellowed a tall cloaked figure from across the room. He had appeared from nowhere and was holding a black staff; his cloak was purple and deeply hooded, and they couldn’t make out a face. Kern reflexively fired an arrow, which hit its target smack in the chest – but the arrow went straight through, as if it had pierced nothing but purple smoke.
“You dare fight me? You fools!” The ghostly figure lifted his staff. White lightning shot out from it at every angle, some bolts hitting the sarcophaguses. Where they struck, the stone lids shattered into hundreds of pieces; out of each one climbed a skeleton.
“Undead,” Nuran muttered under his breath. “I hate the undead.”
Solomon pushed, pulled, and rattled the bars as Ty searched fruitlessly for hidden levers; the pair could only watch as six animated skeletons attacked their friends.
Galandrik stepped forward and swung his mighty two-handed axe, shattering the nearest skeleton into hundreds of bony fragments. A second skeleton warrior swung his sword at the dwarf, who parried the blow with the head of his axe. Kern dropped his bow and drew his sword just in time to fend off a blow from another skeleton, and riposted with a swinging blow to the skeleton’s legs, sending it crashing to the floor. Without a second thought Kern slashed downwards, crushing its skull, then twisted and blocked a blow from the side. Nuran raised his sword and swung a fierce blow at the two skeletons attacking him; the force of his swing ripped through the first and crashed into the second, splintering both of them into pieces.
The ghostly purple-robed figure sent out another blast with his staff, breaking open eight more sarcophaguses, and the skeletons flooded out into the room. “Hahahahaaa!” his laughter boomed out, “you cannot defeat my skeleton army!”
As Galandrik finished off his last foe, he turned to Kern, who was being attacked by three skeletons and was barely able to keep them at bay. Nuran was fighting off three attackers of his own, even as more skeletons moved towards them. They heard another crash and saw more sarcophaguses being blown open.
“Bring them around to me!” Nuran bellowed. Kern fended off his three attackers, blocking blow after blow, slowly walking backwards until he was next to Nuran; from the other side of the room, Galandrik did the same. When the three companions at last stood back to back, there were at least twenty skeleton warriors surrounding them. Nuran took a blow to the forearm as Galandrik caught a blade tip in the face, cutting his cheek open. Nuran swung his mighty weapon at his attackers, sending them reeling backwards.
“Whatever you have planned, Nuran, do it quickly!” Kern shouted as he smashed through a skeleton’s midriff. Another took its place and lunged at Kern, but he parried the blow. A skeleton attacked Galandrik; the dwarf only just managed to shield himself but the creature then aimed another blow at his head. Nuran scattered his three attackers with one massive swing, then pointed his sword straight upwards towards the roof, holding the pommel with both hands. His voice rang out above the melee.
“By the holy light of God Christianos, be thou gone!” A bright white light seemed to beam outwards from the paladin’s sword, illuminating the entire room and blinding Kern and Galandrik. On the other side of the grate, Ty and Solomon covered their eyes. The light appeared to swell in intensity, until all at once every skeleton shattered into dust. When the glow had faded away, nothing remained of them but the tattered rags of their clothing and armour, and their weapons.
Nuran fell to his knees, then collapsed completely on the gritty floor, coughing and gasping for breath. His sword laid next to him, dull and devoid of any colour other than a lifeless grey.
A wild, furious scream broke out; the purple-robed man was enraged by the destruction of his skeleton army. “You will never win!” the ghostly figure shouted, pointing his staff at the statue standing in the centre of the room.
Ty had opened his backpack and pulled out the wooden box of potions at the height of the battle against the skeletons. Now, as Solomon watched the purple-robed man raise his staff towards the statue, Ty looked over the three remaining bottles. He pulled out the glittery red concoction and peered at the ‘STR’ embossed on the side of the bottle.
“Oh well, what harm can it do?” Ty said to himself, uncorking the bottle and swallowing the contents in a single gulp. He quickly rose and grabbed hold of two bars. He took a deep breath and heaved, pulling them in opposite directions. Slowly they started to crack and creak.
Light emanated from the purple-robed mage’s staff and swirled round the massive carved shape of the skeleton warrior. Colour slowly filled the statue as it was brought to life. “Come, Kraven! Come back to me,” the mage chanted.
In moments the monstrous warrior was fully animated. Kraven brandished his shield on one arm and a sword in the other, and a second smaller sword was sheathed on his hip. He let loose a mighty war cry before jumping down from the pedestal. When he landed, the whole room shook; the imprints of his feet dented the concrete floor.
Kern grabbed the drained paladin under the arm and tried to lift him to his feet, but it was no use. Nuran slumped back to his hands and knees.
Galandrik looked at Kern with a shrug. “Shall we?”
Kern stepped forward. “We shall.”
Galandrik attacked with a swing meant for Kraven’s thigh, but it was parried by the giant’s huge shield; he came back with a blow which Galandrik only just managed to dodge by rolling out of the way. Kern ran in and jumped, bringing his sword down towards Kraven’s head, but Kraven simply raised his shield to block the blow, and swatted Kern off to one side. The giant skeleton looked down at the two attackers in front of him and released another deafening battle cry. Galandrik thought he could almost feel the dusty breath. Kraven threw his shield down and drew his second sword.
Kern and Galandrik gathered themselves and prepared to defend once more against the giant’s onslaught. Kern rolled under one of Kraven’s attacking swords, striking at the skeleton as he went. His blade smashed into Kraven’s thigh, bringing him down onto one knee. Galandrik’s axe stuck Kraven’s other sword, knocking it from the giant’s hand. Kraven brought the hilt of his remaining sword sharply down onto Kern’s back, knocking him flat to the floor. The ranger was laid out and winded, fighting to find a breath. The skeleton rose and placed one massive foot in the centre of Kern’s back, forcing out what little air Kern had regained.
Kraven’s free hand seized Galandrik’s head, his giant s
keletal grip covering the dwarf’s entire metal helmet. Extending his arm and raising Galandrik high into the air, Kraven inspected the dwarf dangling in his grip. Reaching up, Galandrik grabbed hold of the bony arm as he was lifted ever higher, his metal helmet creaking under the immense pressure. Kraven brought his sword level with Galandrik’s head, aiming the vicious point towards the helpless dwarf’s eye.
“Kill, Kraven, kill!” the robed man shouted gleefully.
Ty kept straining at the bars until at last he had opened a gap just big enough for him to squeeze through. He looked to the centre of the room and saw Galandrik suspended from the skeleton’s grip, a sword about to be thrust into the dwarf’s face. Ty ran forward past Nuran, who was struggling to get to his feet.
“Just borrowing this,” Ty said as he grabbed Nuran’s great two-handed sword. Ty raised it high above his head, something he could never have managed before drinking the strength potion. He ran towards the giant skeleton, springing from a broken sarcophagus up onto the pedestal the giant had occupied. With Nuran’s sword raised high above his head, Ty jumped, bringing the sword down with all his new-found strength. The blade struck true and sliced straight through Kraven’s shoulder, severing the arm that held Galandrik aloft.
The dwarf fell to the floor with the giant arm still attached to his helmet. Kraven let out a blood-chilling scream of pain and turned round, swinging his sword at Ty.
Ty tried to duck under the attacking blade, but the skeleton’s speed was too great. The sword ripped across Ty’s shoulder, spraying blood into the air. Ty fell to the floor and dropped Nuran’s sword, clutching his wounded shoulder.
Kraven loomed above Ty. Galandrik stood up behind Kraven and removed his crushed helmet, blood from his ears seeping down his neck. As he grabbed his axe, he saw Kraven raise one foot in the air, poised just above Ty. Galandrik swung his axe blade into Kraven’s standing leg, shattering it into pieces. The skeleton fell to the floor and Ty rolled out of the way, still holding his shoulder.
Galandrik swung again and the blow this time was fatal; Kraven’s skull was smashed into pieces.
“Noooo!” The ghostly figure screamed in disbelief and ran towards an exit on the far wall, which had appeared from nowhere. As he ran through the opening, it disappeared, closing up behind him.
Solomon had been watching the battle helplessly, still trapped on the other side of the gate. Now he heard a distant grinding noise, and the barred gate slowly lifted. He ran into the room, hardly knowing whom to assist first.
Nuran had just about gotten to his feet but was still wobbly, leaning on Ty’s good shoulder. Kern was on all fours, breathing normally at last, and Galandrik sat with his back against the centre pedestal, wiping sweat from his brow and blood from his face. Kern crawled over to Galandrik and sat up next to him. “Thanks again, my friend,” Kern said, looking at Galandrik. The dwarf managed only to nod back in appreciation, too tired to speak.
As the others recovered, Solomon walked around the room. Only the pedestal in the centre and several empty sarcophaguses remained. The exit through which the ghostly figure had escaped was now a solid stone wall.
After clearing a small area of dust and debris, they all rested and healed, covering each other’s wounds with healing balm and bandages. Food was shared out once more, and the group ate in silence.
“Who do you think the mage was?” Galandrik asked, to no one in particular.
“No idea. I’m sure we’ll meet him again soon enough,” Kern answered.
“I hope this strength potion lasts until then,” Ty said, flexing a bicep.
“Nearly as strong as me now!” Kern laughed.
Solomon examined some of the sarcophaguses, looking closely at the detailed designs and ancient markings along their sides. On one of them he found a pair of rubies embedded in the side, marking the eyes in an elaborate depiction of a king. He pulled out his dagger and pushed in under the ruby, prizing it free.
He caught the first ruby as it fell and slipped it into his pocket. As he pressed his dagger under the second ruby, to his surprise, the tip of the dagger went straight through the wall of the sarcophagus. It seemed to be hollow behind the decorated facing. He carried on and eventually the other ruby fell inwards. Solomon started poking at the side of the sarcophagus, making the hole ever larger, until he could have poked his head in if he so wished. Taking up his staff, he said something in an ancient tongue, and the end of his staff began to give off a bright light. He angled the light from his staff into the hole and looked in. He saw a chest inside, and after knocking in some more of the outer wall, he dragged it out into the room. Picking up the second ruby, he called to Ty, “Look at this; you think you could open it?”
The others, intrigued, clustered around Solomon and the chest. Ty bent over the lid, feeling a stab of envy that he hadn’t been the one to find the chest, and went to work. Within seconds they all heard a click.
Solomon opened the chest and reached inside, then pulled out a quiver full of arrows.
“Are these any good for you?” he asked Kern, passing his find to Kern. Kern accepted the quiver and pulled out a single arrow. The feather fletching shone bright red, and the ashwood shaft looked exquisitely made. Runes were etched all around the shaft, down to the metal arrowhead.
“These look magical. I’m sure I have seen this rune before – the one for fire, I think. Thank you, Solomon.”
Solomon reached into the chest again and pulled out a bottle full of a green liquid. ‘Hemlock’ was written on its side. “I have no idea what this is,” Solomon said, shaking the bottle.
“It’s poison, and not a nice one,” Ty explained. “If you ate one or two hemlock leaves, it would be enough to kill you. It causes a weakening of the muscles and intense pain; eventually your muscles deteriorate and die. You lose your sight but not your mind… until death, that is. It’s very popular in the trade.”
“Sounds delightful!” Nuran said.
“I can remember when the thieves’ guilds battled for control of cities and towns,” Ty mused, “and they would feed hemlock to quails. The birds are immune to the poison, but the flesh from just one quail that’s eaten hemlock seeds will paralyze a man. They would arrange to have the quail served to whoever it was they wanted to remove from power.”
“Well, next time we come up against a band of orcs we’ll offer them a quail salad!” Galandrik chuckled.
Ty shook his head. “Anyway, that bottle’s full of concentrated hemlock; one drop applied correctly to a blade or arrow tip will kill anyone, even if your little axe can’t.”
“You better keep hold of it, then,” Solomon said, passing Ty the bottle.
Next he pulled out some parchments, covered in writing. “These should come in handy,” Solomon declared, shoving the scrolls into his backpack without further explanation. Under the scrolls sat a shining bronze helm and some wrist bracers. He passed the helm to Galandrik, and the bracers to Nuran.
“You could use a new helmet, after yours was squashed,” Solomon said to the dwarf.
“Thanks, it fits like a glove,” Galandrik answered as he slipped the new helm on.
“These bracers feel light,” Nuran said; “I think they’re mithril. Top quality armour, thanks,” as he admired his gift. Solomon picked some gold coins from the bottom of the chest and slipped them into his money pouch. The chest was empty.
After resting for a couple of hours Ty finally stood up and stretched his arm out, feeling his wound tighten as it sent a sharp pain down to the tips of his fingers. With a slight grunt he began feeling his way along the wall, searching for secret levers, buttons, or anything that might open up a door. After several minutes, he stopped. “Here we go,” he said, pulling a dagger from his sleeve and using it to scrape away the mortar from between two stone bricks. When he had gouged out enough, he wrapped his bony fingers around the brick and pulled it out, dropping it to the floor. He reached in gingerly, feeling for anything, pressing his arm in right up to the shoulder bla
de.
A few seconds later they heard the click-thunk of a lock being opened, and a door swung slightly open – the same door the purple-robed mage had run through. Ty withdrew his arm and rubbed off the cobwebs. He looked through the door and saw another corridor leading on.
“Bravo, young man,” Nuran said, looking over Ty’s shoulder and down the corridor.
“Speaking of ‘bravo,’ Nuran, how did you destroy all those skeletons?” Kern asked.
“A skill you learn when training as a paladin. The power to destroy undead.”
“Seems like it takes a lot out of you,” Solomon observed.
“Yes, and I can’t do it again for a good while. It all depends on how much I use. That time I used everything I had.”
“Well, whatever you did, I’m glad for it, otherwise I would have had to kill them all myself!” Galandrik boasted.
“All?” Kern laughed, “I was three ahead of you when Nuran stepped in!”
“Rubbish you were,” Galandrik argued.
“Without me, he would have squashed your head in his hand, and broken your back with his foot!” Ty interrupted, pointing at Galandrik and Kern in turn.
“It’s a good thing we all work as a team then,” Solomon quipped, defusing the tension.
“Let’s move on,” Nuran announced, lighting up a torch. Ty pulled out his pipe and filled it with stonecrop leaf, as Kern felt the spot on his leg where the dragonfish had bitten him. It was much improved.
They moved cautiously on down the corridor, and within minutes they reached another door which was slightly ajar. Nuran pushed the door and it opened wider, revealing a circular room which was empty except for a rope hanging down in the centre. A bright light shone down from above, and a rat scurried into a crack in the wall as they entered. The room resembled the bottom of a dry well, and Ty searched the circular room for more hidden passages, but found nothing.
“I guess we need to climb up. Ty, you go and see what’s up there; after all, you’re the quietest, and the best climber,” Kern said with a smile.