The air was tumultuous, yearning for freedom from the domain of her parents, eager to explore beyond the reach of the expansive primordial oceans and the tranquil, silent night. Distressed by this, Water and Darkness endeavored to craft both a haven and guardian for their wayward daughter, aiming to keep her from the emptiness that lay in the great beyond. This they called the Earth.

- The Birth of the Gesthe, by an unknown author.

Bathed by the light of my golden Aura, a dance of shadow and light presented a room filled with large earthenware pots. Interesting, I mused. After a closer inspection of one of the pots, I attempted to pry its lid off, but found it stubbornly sealed. Applying more force might risk damaging this ancient artifact. I briefly considered shattering the pot to check for any hidden treasures, but my inner historian instantly vetoed that sacrilegious thought. I chose another pot at random, and this time I succeeded in opening it. Curiously, I took a cautious look inside.

Inside, the pot harbored dark brown crystals closely resembling black sugar. This was a small stroke of fortune, for food would be no small boon here, but I had to be careful. I had to check for sure.

Corpse Honey

Durability 64/65

An Identify spell revealed a somewhat macabre name for the contents of the pot. Yet, despite this ominous label, I was aware that honey could endure for thousands of years, remaining perfectly edible. Moreover, if it happened to be tainted or had merely spoiled, my robust Constitution and the Purify spell in my arsenal would allow me to easily negate any repercussions. It was amusing to think that I, who once had such a delicate stomach, was now ready to consume some ancient honey discovered underground without a second thought.

Sampling a small portion, I discovered that it certainly lived up to the 'honey' part of its name, although the 'corpse' element still had me apprehensive. It was likely named after the flower that the honey-making bees had harvested, or something along those lines, I justified to myself. Sampling another bite, I had to spit out an inedible fragment, a small chip of white. I would have to be careful not to choke when eating the honey.

I then spent the subsequent twenty minutes inspecting the rest of the room, which only revealed yet more earthenware pots. Having not experienced any adverse effects from my recent risky indulgence, I concluded that it was safe for consumption.

A pot itself would be too heavy to lug around with me, so I made do by wrapping some of the crystallized honey in a few leaves, and stuffing it into my pouch. I inspected the other pots, the ones I could open at least, finding them all uniformly filled with Corpse Honey.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Finding no more in the room, I retreated to the corridor to uncover more of this enigmatic place. Equipped with light, sustenance, and a reserve of Mana, and buoyed by my recent victory, I felt that I was in a reasonable state. A swift pull from my water flask brought me some relief, the precious item thankfully not lost in my recent ordeals. Still, the need for more water hung over me, an issue not yet urgent but becoming increasingly critical.

The passage subtly inclined upward, a detail that kindled a tiny flame of hope within me. Could this lead me out of this dreadful place? A deep dive into my emotional state revealed neither fear nor anxiety. I wondered, could this tranquility be the result of my prolonged use of the Holy Aura spell, something I had never sustained for such a length of time before? Yet, contemplating this seemed premature, like putting the cart before the horse.

For an indeterminate span of time, I trudged on, alone in a circle of light besieged by the oppressive darkness, the echo of my footsteps as my only company. The passage held no branching paths, no additional rooms, just an unending tunnel, seemingly leading to nowhere.

Then, an ominous click sounded beneath my foot, followed by the grating hum of machinery. From the darkness to my left, an object collided with my pauldron, while yet another skittered across my thick cuisse. With my adrenaline surging, I quickly retreated from the suspect tile and crouched low, reducing my silhouette and covering my helm's eyeslits with an armored gauntlet. A barrage of projectiles peppered my armor, each strike echoing in the tight confines of the passage. When the final bolt had clanged harmlessly away, silence once again descended. With my heart pounding against my ribs, I dared a cautious look around.

Spent metal darts littered the floor, resembling fish spilled from nets after the morning catch. I had been a victim of a dastardly trap. Of course there would be traps here, I thought bitterly. By dint of bad luck, some of the darts had found their way through the weak points of my armor, namely the joints, cutting in shallowly through the layer of mail. A minor annoyance, and a quick glance at my Status showed that I had suffered only minor damage from the sprung trap. Nevertheless, a man could still die from a thousand cuts. A grimace twisted my face as I observed the sorry state of my robes, now reduced to tattered shreds. Frustration welled within me, prompting a muttered curse directed at the world at large.

I inspected one of the darts, bringing the missile close to my face. It was a simple thing, made of wood and was the size of a large pencil, with a sharp metal tip. If I had not been so heavily-armored, the storm of darts could have done some real damage. Not serious damage, of course, considering the prodigious amount of Health points I had. I doubted that even a stab in the heart could kill me as I was. Annoyed, I threw the thing down onto the floor where it joined its brothers.

Now, not only was I dealing with wandering undead revenant monsters, but now I also had to contend with devious traps. I would have to be more careful as I progressed through this dingy hell.

I got down on all fours, brushing aside several darts to examine the floor more closely. Right before the 'pressure plate' I had inadvertently stepped on, blocky ideographic script framed by stylized scorpions was inscribed upon stone. While I was hesitant to waste Mana, something compelled me to decipher its meaning. It was a curiosity I could not ignore.

“Step lightly, or dance eternally in my hall. Welcome to you, believers and honored guests,” was what my Identify spell revealed to me. “The builder of this trap had a dark sense of humor, at least,” I said to myself, almost hissing. Such pointless drivel.