By the time the next morning had come along, and we were standing in front of the unassuming building that marked the entrance to the dungeon, we had prepared ourselves as best as we could.
We had packed food, of course, and water. It was enough to last us perhaps a week. I had to get a new pack to carry it in - RENA still had mine. I wouldn’t have thought we would be down there long enough to need so much food, but both Cadoc and Amaia insisted we should be prepared. Perhaps there would be something to hunt or scavenge inside, or perhaps not.
I didn’t like the implications of any of that. Implication number one being that we might be down there for even longer than a week. Implication two being that we might get desperate enough that we try to eat a Kalamuzi. I don’t care how much like rats they look, that was a little too close to cannibalism for my tastes. I wouldn’t want to eat a regular rat either, for that matter.
We were armed much the same as we had been. When Amaia had joined our party, she had brought almost nothing with her that I could see, but quickly received leathers and a spear from Berenguer. She had requested the spear. She seemed to have experience using one.
Cadoc and I were in light leather armor as well. It would be enough to stop glancing blows from slicing us up, but it wouldn’t hold up to any attacks that struck true. And they were warm, so I hoped it wasn’t going to be hot underground.
Cadoc had his sword, and I had my antisword. I was eager to finally see it break a sword or two, even though part of me hoped I wouldn’t really have to use it.
It was hard, but I decided to leave the two-handed mace behind. We all guessed that it would be too big to use underground in close-quarters, and it was heavy when carried in addition to a full pack.
Besides that, we had bought a few items around the camp, with Berenguer’s money. We only had to give the merchants his name, and they agreed to add it to his tab.
We bought a length of rope, a couple bundles of firewood - unlikely we would find any wood underground, but we’d probably want a fire - a few torches, and three “healing potions.”
I was hesitant to spend my money on those potions, honestly. This wasn’t a video game, so I had absolutely no guarantee that I wasn’t buying snake oil. But, then again, it wasn’t my money, after all. It was Berenguer’s. And if he thought he was getting it back, he had another thing coming.
In addition to all this I had a watch and a pair of nail clippers, which I had luckily had in my pockets when I had sent RENA my bag.
And I had a pocket full of nails, of course.
I had asked RENA to send me another revolver, again. I missed that gun every day, and I didn’t think the Kalamuzi would be able to disarm me like that guard had.
“What do you think, RENA?” I had asked her. “I’ve paid off a whole month, what’s a few hundred bucks?”
“Unfortunately, Miles, I am still awaiting approval from the previous time you made this request. Dimen-X has instituted a freeze on all outbound inter-dimensional shipments, and while the company made an exception for your watch plan, it has never broadly rescinded the command. Please have patience as the company considers your request.”
I sighed. Maybe, with Amaia’s help, the stuff I stole from Berenguer, and whatever I can find - or kill - in the dungeon, maybe I can figure out some magic that’s even better than a revolver.
Who am I kidding. I want a gun!
“What about the stuff I sent you before?”
“I have received approval to send that back to you, Miles, at whatever time you request.”
“Awesome. Thanks, RENA.”
“You are welcome, Miles.”
So we stood outside the entrance, as prepared as we could hope to be. Still, when I looked around at our competition, I wished we had more.
The man with the lightning sword was there, as was that ice-woman. They were part of 3-man teams, like us. And there were others, five teams in total, each of which associated with a strong wizard, who was backing them. The lightning-sword guy and his companions worked for Anwar, and the freezing chick was under that woman Berenguer had mention, that Margaid. I didn’t know about the others, but they all looked better than us. One uber-muscular man held a massive sword, about as big as a person, in one hand. Another person, with a bow strapped to his back, was idly flipping a coin between his fingers. I watched as the coin ran along the top of his hand, then to the next hand, then disappeared, only to appear back at the beginning.
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Lightning. Ice. Muscles. Teleportation. And we’re working with flaming nails and stick summoning. Besides Amaia’s disarming, we are severely outclassed.
I only hope they don’t have the same idea Berenguer had. I don’t want to go toe-to-toe with any of these people.
“Welcome!” A jovial voice suddenly rang out. It was Anwar, who stepped forward to stand beside the two guards by the building. The building had a great gate instead of a front door.
“I am happy you were all able to join us! It isn’t every day that a new dungeon appears in the First Ring, and it wasn’t too long ago that something like this would have led to bloodshed, and mage killing mage for the treasure inside. But no more!
“Now, we have order. Rules. We can come together as friends, and have a friendly competition. It is still a dungeon. Some of you will die. But we will not have war in the Ring.
“You all mostly know how this works, I’m sure, but some of our foreign independents may need the notice, so here it is: do not kill each other. Please.
“In a moment, this gate will open. Beyond it lies a staircase. This staircase leads straight down into the dungeon.
“In the past, we had let everyone rush in, all at once. This led to *ahem* less than desirable results. People died. So! The representative mages of the First Ring have voted, and we have instituted a new rule.”
He took a hat out of one billowing sleeve. I wondered if that was some minor spell, or if he was equal parts mage and magician, if you get what I’m saying.
“A lottery!” he yelled, as if we would all applaud this. No one did. “We will choose who enters first, at random, by drawing names from a hat. Every group has a slip of paper, as well as every independent. Whoever we draw first will go in, and after a few minutes, we’ll draw another, and so on. We can sense the first room from here, of course, so we know that no Kalamuzi is waiting in ambush, at least not right away. We will also know if any of you try to do the same in the first room, so be on your best behavior! While us higher-Ring mages are not allowed inside, an exception will be made against obvious rule-breakers!
“Anyway, with this system, we can ensure total fairne-”
“What is the meaning of this?!” Berenguer’s voice boomed over the crowd. He marched forward, eyes burning. “Do you mean to swindle us all out of the treasure? Your group will be drawn first, I have not doubt.”
Anwar smiled. “Ah, Berenguer, my old friend. We did vote on this measure, yes?”
“I cast no such vote.”
“Didn’t you?” Anwar scrunched up his face in mock thinking. “Ah, yes, that’s right. I suppose you skipped that meeting, didn’t you? Like most meetings. All meetings. Well, anyway, we did reach a majority vote, even without you. So fair’s fair, right?”
“If you think this will stand…” Berenguer growled, but Anwar interrupted him.
“In the spirit of fairness,” he said in a raised voice, as if the audience hadn’t just heard him talking with Berenguer, “Berenguer will be the one to draw the names! It would not do for me to draw them, would it?” He held out the hat to Berenguer.
Berenguer stared at it for a moment, before finally snatching it. “Fine,” he said.
He drew out the first name, and his scowl deepened. Anwar read it, peeking over Berenguer’s shoulder.
“Botros!” he exclaimed. “That is one of the independents, yes? Please, step forward!”
The man with the massive sword came forward, a thin smile on his face.
Berenguer still looked upset, but clearly he had been somewhat mollified by the drawing of someone neutral. Perhaps he had expected that Anwar would use magic to make sure his group was first.
Anwar clearly enjoyed his position as announcer. “The time has finally arrived! Guards, open the gates!”
There was a crank beside the gate, with a chain wrapped around it which led to the top of the gate. One of the two guards begun to turn it, and the gate slowly rose.
“What a glorious moment!” Anwar shouted over the noise. “May our competitions always be so friendly and joyous!”
When the gate was fully raised, Botros looked at Anwar, then at Berenguer, as if asking permission to proceed.
“Go!” Anwar yelled. “The games have begun! Proceed, Botrus, proceed.”
“It’s Botros,” the man muttered as he went. “Not Botrus.”
“My apologies,” Anwar responded.
Inside the gate was, indeed, a large spiral staircase, which went straight down. It looked like it was carved from stone, as did all of the room, floor to ceiling. More accurately, it looked like, by some strange phenomenon, the staircase had been formed naturally, some fluke of erosion.
Botros began his descent, and was quickly out of view.
“Now,” Anwar continued. “Who will be next after Butros?”
-
It wasn’t us. We weren’t the third, fourth, or fifth ones to go, either. By the time we were called, there were only two groups left - ours, and Anwar’s.
Cadoc and I had fallen asleep. Amaia had to kick us awake.
“Anwar!” Anwar yelled, reading from the paper Berenguer held. “Why, that’s me. Off you go, my friends! Do me proud!”
Berenguer was seething, clearly, but said nothing.
“And that leaves you, my old friend. No luck today, eh? So it goes. I wasn’t exactly lucky myself.”
Berenguer stayed silent.
After a few minutes of waiting - I think Anwar did it more based off of feel than anything, as I didn’t see a clock of any kind - we were sent in.
Berenguer shot us a look as we passed him. It was murderous. Not aimed at us, I didn’t think. He wanted us to kill the other participants. That’s what the look said.
We already knew he wanted us to do that, however. But it wasn’t part of our plans. I had no desire for murder. Arson? Sure, occasionally. Revenge? Absolutely. But cold-blooded murder? No thank you.
We descended the staircase. We had to light a torch almost immediately, as the light from above seemed to be swallowed up into the earth. The not-earth? Cadoc held the torch.
We descended for a long time. Later, I wished I had checked my watch, but I didn’t think of that until we were already some ways down. It took at least fifteen minutes. I think.
At the bottom, the staircase let out into a circular room, shaped like the one on the surface. This one was carved from the stone, like the staircase was. There were eight different doors inlaid in the round wall, leading in eight different directions.
“Any preference?” I asked.
“Perhaps not that one, friend.” Cadoc pointed. “Seems like bad luck.” I hadn’t seen it before, but there was a pile of bones beside one of the doors. They looked old. Too old.
I could have spent hours fretting over which door to choose, but we had made a general plan before setting out that morning: if possible, move towards the direction of the outer wall. That way, if we really needed to, we could maybe use one of the Kalamuzi’s tunnels to flee. Not that we really wanted to leave Eraztun, but it would be a good option to have.
The problem was that the spiral staircase had spun us all around. We discussed it, and all agreed that a particular door was probably the right one.
“Alright,” I said. “Here goes nothing.”
It was a simple wooden door. I pushed it open, revealing nothing but darkness. Cadoc took the lead, and we followed him in.
It had been deathly quiet, so I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door slammed shut behind us.
“Don’t make another move,” a voice echoed in the dark. “If you value your lives.”