Dominic reached the main atrium without finding any indication of a secret door in the wall of the corridor. Of course, there could be some sort of magical illusion – with dungeons, level ups, and extra-dimensional spaces, magic was bound to feature in some way.
Dominic thought it unlikely, though. That would be unfair in a way that the dungeon had not proven to be – yet. There’s always the first time, though, he thought darkly to himself. It would be a good strategy, he had to admit – lulling the explorers into a false sense of security with clues and vaguely obvious trap triggers, then hide the next steps of the dungeon with invisibility magic.
Except why would the dungeon do that? Doesn’t it want to be completed? Though it was possible that Dominic was assuming too much. After all, his only knowledge of this kind of dungeon came from fictional books and games. Who knew if any of them matched what he was dealing with here in the slightest. Maybe this kind of dungeon is just an abandoned temple left by some forgotten civilisation, its environs infested with trodils which had crept in from beyond. Maybe it isn’t sapient in the way I’m thinking.
Although that was logical to an extent, Dominic somehow doubted it. The organisation of the trodils outside was too deliberate to just be chance. He doubted that they would naturally have arranged themselves into groups which so perfectly reflected the levels involved.
And why would the trodils be so protective of the keys naturally? Not to mention the other questions about the lack of food and water sources if the trodils indeed were naturally occurring creatures like the ones he’d met outside. They’re aliens, but surely not so alien that they don’t need to eat or drink?
But although the traps in the rooms had been annoying, they’d been far more in line with a challenging dungeon of his fictional variety than those left by a long-forgotten civilisation which wanted to keep intruders out of their sacred areas.
It just made no sense, therefore, that there would be no path forwards. Why would the dungeon tell him to put his hands – paws – on the altar and then not provide him with the correct altar? There must be something I’m missing.
As he’d decided as he left the other room, before going to inspect the other corridor for a secret door, Dominic checked out the atrium.
It was as plain as he remembered it. No carvings on the walls. The walls were once more the dark grey hexagonal stone tiles which Dominic was getting rather tired of seeing. He reckoned that he would be dreaming in hexagons if he stayed in this temple much longer.
Rearing up, Dominic prodded one of the torches with his nose. It didn’t move at all, not even shifting as much as the ones in the room with the stone statues had. Perhaps that had been designed as one of the win conditions in that room, then. Just as well otherwise Dominic might have snuffed it along with the candle.
So if it wasn’t the torches or the walls, what was it? The only other thing in the room that was within reach was the mosaic. Out of sheer lack of any other ideas, Dominic padded closer to it, cocking his head as he inspected the design.
Pretty weird image, he decided as his eyes took in the image, or lack of it. None of the lines match up from one tile to the next. The whole design was a set of ten by ten tiles, each with wandering lines that snaked this way or that, starting on one edge of the tile and finishing on the other. But as he’d observed, not a single of the lines was continued onto the tile it was connected to.
It’s even damaged. That was a little odd – everything else in the dungeon had been a little dusty but completely intact. There’s a piece in the top corner which is miss...ing…. Oh. Oh.
The human-turned-lion felt like facepalming, though didn’t for fear of accidentally getting a facefull of claws instead. I’m an idiot. The answer has been staring me in the damn face the whole time!
It was another puzzle. Of course it was. No wonder the other two rooms had been trapped – they had been the too obvious paths. And all just to disguise the fact that the way forward lay behind this bloody mosaic.
If there hadn’t been two gaping doorways to investigate, he’d have realised that there was something strange about this mosaic ages ago. But like the stupid imbecile that he was, he’d let himself fall for the oldest trick in the book: misdirection. Literally.
I’ve wasted so much time, he moaned to himself. It was OK when he was hunting trodils – he’d been levelling up quickly at the same time. But he hadn’t even gained enough for a single level inside this temple. I did get a sweet gorget, though, he reminded himself. And a health potion. Though he couldn’t really count that – he wouldn’t have needed it if not for the trap in the first room he’d entered.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
After grumbling and growling for a bit, Dominic sighed and forced himself to stop sulking. This puzzle isn’t going to solve itself. And I’m not giving up now.
He recognised the type of puzzle now he was actually paying proper attention to it. It was one of those ones where it was necessary to slide tiles to create some sort of design. Actually, despite not being very fast at them, he kind of enjoyed the challenge they offered.
Sitting down in front of the large mosaic, he tried to work out which tiles linked to which, wanting to get a sense of the overall design before he got started.
I wish I had a pen, he grumbled as he struggled to keep track of the tiles. Then a thought occurred. He had the candle, didn’t he? Maybe that would help.
As it turned out, it didn’t help. Maybe it would have, but he just couldn’t get a good enough grip on it to force it to write numbers. Huffing, he tucked it back into his inventory.
The alternative that came to mind was a bit more painful, but Dominic bore with it. Slicing into his own flesh with one of his claws wasn’t fun, and neither was attempting to paint numbers on the tiles with his own blood. Still, using his furry paw as a paintbrush, it proved to be a - barely - adequate writing tool.
When he inevitably made a mistake, he eyed the offending mark before giving into necessity. Leaning in, he licked at the drying blood. Funnily enough, his blood didn’t taste as good as the various other creatures he’d eaten so far, but it sure tasted a lot better than it had when he’d been human and licked at blood dripping from a wound. And that threatened to open another can of worms again, so he shied away from the thought of his life as a human.
Eventually, he stepped back and looked at the design with a critical eye. Looks good, he decided, after tracing each of the lines and verifying that they linked with the ones of the tile he was planning on putting them next to. Now time to slide them into place.
Rearing up, he balanced himself against the wall with one paw and used the other to push the tile below the gap into the space itself. If he’d needed any more proof that this was the correct path, the ease with which the tile slid and clicked into place was it.
Working methodically and patiently, he shifted the tiles around, using circle patterns to get the tiles into the right spot while causing as little disruption as possible to the ones which were vaguely correctly placed. It was calming, almost meditative. Perhaps that’s the reason that he didn’t see the attack until it was too late.
Shifting a tile into the empty space revealed a small hole behind where the tile had been. Out of it shot a ball of fur and teeth which latched directly onto his nose and scrabbled at his face.
Closing his eyes instinctively to protect them, Dominic used both paws to scrape at the annoying furry gnat. He knocked it off easily enough and opened his eyes only to see the stone wall a fraction of a second before he collided with it head first. His paws got into position just too late to actually save himself.
Ow! Dominic mentally complained, more insulted and embarrassed than actually injured. His head was hard enough to make the collision painful but not really damaging. Do these walls have something against me? he asked himself, feeling aggrieved. It was the second time he’d ended up coming off worse from an encounter with them.
The gnat wasn’t dead yet, as a small pain from one of his back feet told him. Looking down, he snarled at the small meerkat which was doing its best to gnaw through his fur. Letting himself fall to all four feet on the ground, it was only a few seconds later that the meerkat found itself being crushed in his jaws.
Consuming the body added a welcome relief from a little of his hunger and thirst – not that he was particularly in need – but it was revealed to be one of those annoying level 0s; no good for his aim to level up again. In fact, the whole experience was far more annoying than dangerous, merely making him waste a bit of time. And suffer from an aching head.
I’ll keep my eyes out for any more of those traps, he decided, eyeing the puzzle suspiciously.
It was a good thing he had resolved to do that because more traps were revealed as he made his way through the puzzle. Behind this one was a dart trap which he barely avoided – though he did add the dart it shot to his inventory afterwards. Behind that one was another annoying level 0 meerkat.
The most disruptive trap he’d found so far had been a nozzle which had exuded some sort of gas. It had made his eyes burn when even a little got into them. That one had made him back away and rub at his eyes with his forelegs until they stopped burning and stinging. The gas had given the air a slight greenish tint, and Dominic waited until all the green had dissipated before venturing closer again.
He’d also been shot with water, or at least he thought it was water. He hadn’t tried drinking it, but it had dripped like water, smelt like water, and didn’t seem to have any poor effects on his skin. Maybe that one was a dud, or a prank. Do dungeons play pranks?
Dominic didn’t know; what he did know was that he was almost done with the puzzle. Thank. God. Not that it was particularly difficult, but he was so ready to be done with this dungeon. He was feeling antsy at being inside for so long, though he wasn’t sure whether that was from him, from Leo, or somehow from the lion’s body itself.
The last few tiles were the most tricky, needing to get the sequence correct or he’d end up with a single tile that was in absolutely the wrong place. When it finally clicked into place, Dominic found himself holding his breath. What if this is another trap. Another misdirection?
For a moment, he let his eyes run over the design as he waited watchfully. It was a random wandering of differently coloured lines, but he had to admit that it was more appealing than the mess that had been there in the first place.
It was also sinking. Dominic cocked his head as he realised that the whole design was vanishing into the floor, the stone moving remarkably quietly. A few moments later, all that could be seen was a staircase leading down into darkness.