Helbram took a moment to examine the plaque that sat next to the door. It was made of a smooth metal, and rather than any words being engraved into its surface the script was written in a soft, white light. After a moment, the words disappeared, replaced by the featureless face of the metallic plate, reflecting the bare stone room that surrounded him. Aside from the grooves that traveled along each corner of the room, bleeding the same soft white light to illuminate its space, the room held no furnishings beyond the broken statue that lay at its center. The stone itself held the appearance and grain of those weathered by rain and wind, but held little to no texture across its surface. His hand retracted at the ill-fitting sensation at first, but he soon found himself running his fingers across the surface once again, an odd sensation of satisfaction at the back of his mind as he did so.
Helbram shook his head, “Let us not be engrossed by rocks, shall we Helbram?”
He directed his attention to the sledgehammer in his hands. Aside from the nick in its haft from where it caught the statue’s sword, the weapon appeared to be unharmed. He looked up from the weapon and into the hallway that the door had revealed. Like the room, grooves marked the corners of its make, keeping its length well lit as it diverged into two paths ahead. The grain of the stone remained continuous throughout, and were it not for the lights he likely would not have been able to tell there were two paths ahead. He walked up to the hallway, keeping the sledgehammer held horizontal and noting that its length took up two thirds of the hall’s width. He sighed at the realization, and produced the cord that he used to keep the tool strapped to his back.
“Of course my most effective weapon has been rendered a burden…” he muttered to himself as he secured the hammer against his back. He tied it in such a way that the knot pressed against his chest, a loose thread hanging from it that he could pull for a quick release.
He took the wooden shield from his back and strapped it to his wrist and his hand instinctively reached for his sword again. He paused, and instead took hold of the small pickaxe that he threaded through his belt instead.
“Would be quite foolish of me to start bashing such a weapon against stone…”
He held the improvised weapon out, noting that its length was much shorter than the blade’s, but in such a tight corridor he found that to be a comfort. He rolled his shoulders and took in a deep breath as he stepped towards the hallway, shield held up to cover the top of his torso and chin. Helbram braced himself as he took a step into the hallway and froze at the entrance momentarily as he expected some manner of trap to spring.
When nothing happened, he sighed with a mix of relief and agitation.
“Well, better looking the fool rather than getting impaled, I suppose…”
He kept his guard up as he slowly walked through the hallway, feet light as he stepped on the ground, ready to spring at any sign of movement. His hand held up the pickaxe like he would a sword, level with his head ready to bring down should the stone itself start to move. He kept his movements slow, taking a full minute to march through the length of the hallway and only allowing himself to relax as he tested both hallways by throwing small stones he procured from the broken statue that lay in the room. He let his guard drop only slightly, and examined both paths, noting that they too split into left and right pathways.
He frowned at the revelation, “A maze is it? This is going to take a while…”
He fished for his notebook fastened to the back of his belt and a small pencil he kept in his side pouch, thankful that he’d picked it up from the alchemist before venturing into the mines. After flipping through a random assortment of notes he found a relatively blank page and drew the beginnings of a small map, beginning with the first fork in his path. He took the right path first, maintaining the same cautious pace as before, and could only sigh in disappointment when both paths led him to dead ends. He illustrated the paths on his impromptu map, made his way back to the original intersection. When he arrived, he dragged the tip of the pickaxe across its wall, leaving a shallow, but noticeable scratch against the stone in the shape of an X. When he took the left path, he drew a line following his path with him, and marked the path he took with a scratch that bore the vague semblance of an O.
He continued at this pace, navigating the twisting hallways with his slow, methodical pace and marking down both the incorrect and correct paths he took. There were a few times where he made mistakes, misled by pathways that dragged just long enough to give him some semblance of progress, only to block him just as his hopes started to rise. He suspected that was the point of such paths, and resigned himself to the smudges on his map as he erased any incorrect paths that he’d written down.
“Matron’s arse is this a false path within a false path? Gods if that architect was not dead already…” he muttered to himself as erased his drawing with a little too much vigor.
He retraced his steps, finding his way back to the last correct path that he took. He’d lost track of the time he’d spent within the maze, but suspected that it must have only been a few hours since his trek began. He kept his guard up but quickened his pace, the knock of his boots sending a slight echo throughout the hallways ahead of him. Progress came at a steady rate, and as he kept traveling he started to feel his shield arm slack the deeper that he went into the maze. The moment he felt it almost at his side, he stopped and peered ahead.
“It is always at these times when danger strikes…”
Helbram raised his shield up again, returning back to the cautious pace he began with. As he inched closer to the end of the hallway he caught sight of it, a shadow so faint that it almost blended into the grain of the stone it lay upon. He was distracted by it enough that he barely noticed the second one from the opposite hallway. The shadows were still, waiting, undisturbed by breath or tension. The one to his right was blended in with the shape of a pole, and given the narrow hallway he assumed it to be a spear. He backed up from the end of the hallway and fished another stone from his pocket. He relaxed his arms but tensed his legs, ready to spring the moment he let the stone fly from his hand. He released it towards the right hallway, bouncing it against the wall with a slight knock that echoed back to him. No movement followed.
“Of course.. It is never easy, is it?” he grumbled.
He shook his head and marched towards the shadows, shield covering his vitals and pickaxe raised. As he drew close to end he rolled his shoulders and skipped forward, placing a foot between the two shades. The sound of sliding stone followed and Helbram jumped back , seeing two spears of a brass colored metal strike the ground where he stood. Two statues emerged from the hallways, adjusting their spears back into position. Their armor was identical, proportions similar to the sword wielding statue from before. They marched side by side, encompassing the width of the pathway with no openings for him to slip through. Helbram rapped the pickaxe against his shield, flinching at the empty force of habit as the statues continued their slow march forward.
Helbram could only curse under his breath. Fighting a faceless, emotionless construct was a far cry from his usual more emotional opponents. With them, there was a certain amount of intent behind each strike that made them somewhat readable. With the statues, he’d have to rely upon knowledge of the statues’ movement, knowledge that he did not have. He continued to step back, the statues showing no signs of speeding, nor slowing, their advance against him. When he reached the mid part of his hallway he could only sigh. He had to take action, otherwise they were just going to walk their spears into him.
To that end he made to move towards them, inching his foot forward towards his stone opponents. When he was within a breath of them, they both shot forward, their form simplistic, but moving with exact precision as they brought their spears towards his center. Like the last statue, they moved with a quickness unbecoming of stone, and Helbram only barely managed to deflect the spears with the metallic center of his shield. The force behind the strikes slid him back, but the spears did not bite into the metal and instead slid off. The motion would have driven a normal man to imbalance, but in the case of the statues they stopped moving and whipped their spears to the side of Helbram’s head.
He brought his head back to avoid the swipes, and the moment that the spears crossed he ran his shield into them, budging the statues just enough that he had a brief opening. He struck at the statue to his right with his pickaxe, driving the point into the temple of its helmet. It landed with a brief clink, but the point bounced off of the stone with only a small scratch. He swung the opposite end of the tool against the other statue, the point only skittering off of the face of its carved helmet.
The statues shoved him back in unison, lifting him off of his feet and throwing him back. He softened the landing with his toes, just barely managing to recover as the statues resumed their assault with a relentless series of mechanical, perfected stabs that forced him to abandon offense in favor of keeping their attacks at bay. Metal clanged and pierced into the steel and wood of his shield, the force behind each blow enough to shift his stance to where he could not find any semblance of stability.
One of the statues pulled back, retracting its arms further for a stronger strike while its companion occupied Helbram’s defenses. He noticed the movement, and took the opening as an opportunity to catch the lone assailant’s spear at an angle with his shield. He shoved the weapon against the wall and lunged forwards towards the one preparing its attack. The statue unleashed the strike, the sound of the spear cutting through the air as the blow soared toward’s Helbram. He skipped to the side to avoid the blow, slamming into the wall in the process. Once the haft of the spear passed him, he slammed his shield against it and forced it up, lifting the statue’s arms in the process. Before its companion could cover the gap in its defenses, Helbram slid along the length of the spear with his shield and brought his pickaxe up into the statue’s armpit. The tool struck with more force and bit into the stone this time, revealing cracks around the area of impact.
Helbram kept pushing forwards, putting himself face to face with the statue as he slid by it. To his surprise the statue brought its head forward, colliding its stone helmet with his metal one with enough force to rattle his vision. He ignored the blow the best he could and stumbled away, sprinting towards the now unoccupied hallways in the distance. Heavy footsteps were not too far behind. He looped his pickaxe to his waist before he rounded the corner to his right and pulled on the cord tied to his chest. The hammer slid from its restraints and into his free hand as he reached back. When he crested the corner he caught himself on his forward foot and let the hammer slide in his grip, catching it at the point that granted him the most leverage. He swung the hammer back towards the hallway he came from, his position against the wall and extra room granted to him by the fork allowing him to swing it in a full arc.
It struck, and he heard the sound of stone shattering as shock trailed up the hammer and into his arms.
Shards of rock followed after, nearly concealing the spear that pierced through the dust. Helbram pressed himself further against the wall and twisted his head, giving him just enough room for the spear to graze his helmet with the screech of metal against metal. Even with such minimal contact he could feel his head rattle slightly from the blow, and through shaky vision he charged towards his assailant before they could retract their weapon. Through the dust of one fallen statue he collided with the other and dropped his hammer. His hand wrapped around the pickaxe at his belt and he drew it into an upwards strike, slamming the center of the tools head into the remaining statue's chin. It’s head snapped back, but it’s body did not follow. Instead it pivoted it’s torso, slamming the short end of the spear’s haft into Helbram’s side. His brigandine absorbed most of the blow but a twinge of pain still followed as he felt his body lift from the ground. With no leverage, he soon found himself slammed against the wall, and by the time his vision settled from the shock the statue had already reared its arms back, spear aimed towards his head.
He felt a heat rush through him, a primal surge of panic that drove him to lunge at the statue. The construct snapped its spear forward as he did so, and out of pure instinct he tilted his head, narrowly avoiding the spear as he snapped his hand back with the pickaxe. Through the rush of that blurred his vision, he caught sight of the cracks under the statue’s shoulder. He planted his feet, feeling the tension build in his arm as he brought it forward with all of his might. The point of the pickaxe bit into the shoulder of the statue, producing cracks that trailed to meet the ones below. A crack followed after, signaling the fall of the statue’s arm from its torso.
With little reaction, the statue let the arm fall from its spear and attempted to swing it to the side with its remaining hand. Helbram ducked the blow and brought the pickaxe up again, this time driving its pointed end into the construct’s chin. A large chunk of the statue’s head split from its face, but still it continued to attack, swinging its spear wildly from side to side. Helbram interrupted its assault with his shield, the stone knight’s strength significantly weakened with only one limb. He brought the pickaxe against its head again, the blow producing a flash of light as it bit into the stone. The remains of its head shattered and the statue crumbled to the ground after, wisps of light leaving its body. Helbram whipped his head around, making sure there were no more moving pieces of stone, and when he was certain, he fell against the wall and slid to the ground, his breaths heavy.
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“Gods, that was sloppy…” he said with a long sigh, one that slowly transitioned to a laugh, “Ancient, magical technology, all broken by a twit with some fancy sticks.”
He allowed himself a moment to rest before standing back up. As he recovered his hammer and secured it on his back he examined the remains of these statues, noting the cracked crystals present within the head of the statue he destroyed with the pickaxe and the shattered torso of the one that ran into his hammer.
“Right, so it is really no different than a man, except almost entirely…”
He pulled out his notebook again, “So, where was I?”
He resumed his journey, finding relief within the slower, methodical pace, but keeping his eyes more focused, searching for the shadows that were only faintly noticeable against the grain. Shadows that he’d found again multiple times, much to his dismay. He at first tried to ignore them entirely, hoping that an alternative path would let him subvert them, but with much chagrin he found that the statues only lay within the paths that would drive him forward.
“Well at least I know what to look for if I want to progress…”
His first few encounters with the statues went much the first; victories that were earned through a mix of desperation and luck. Despite his best efforts, the repeated strikes against his shield had started to wear on the wood, and he could start to see through parts of it where spears had dug deep. The scratches that marred his pauldrons, helmet, and gauntlets grew more numerous with each encounter, and the cloth against his brigandine was sliced in multiple spots. That, combined with the stinging in his legs where the statue’s had managed to graze him, left him in an increasingly souring mood as he trudged forward at an agonizingly slow pace. His throat started to feel parched and he felt his stomach rumbling as the journey continued, and he soon found his water flask empty with time.
Through all of this, he found his focus growing, and as the movements of the constructs that tormented him became familiar, his desperate brawls against the statues slowly started to turn into something more methodical. He would bait them out as always, but this time run back down the hallway, luring the constructs directly into the swing of a hammer that reduced each pair down to one. He would deal with the remaining statues with his pickaxe, and with each encounter he found himself growing more familiar with their movements. It almost felt like he was back in the black void again, fighting against an opponent that he knew how to predict perfectly, but would keep showing up again and again despite his victories.
After what he assumed to be hours, his body started to feel heavy from both the amount of walking he was doing and the repeated skirmishes with the statues. Irritation started to set in once again despite his caution, and he could not help but feel both tired and bored as he progressed forward, his makeshift map now spanning pages in his journal.
“Ancient technology and all this architect can make is a bloody maze with some stone bastards in it…” he muttered to himself, “how in the hells does all of this fit under a mountain anyhow?”
Despite his chagrin, he could not help but feel a growing emptiness at the pit of his stomach the longer that his journey took. He was not packed for a long journey, and this maze made no signs of ending any time soon. He did not bring his ruck, which carried his usual emergency provisions, and the hollow knock of his water flask against his leg was starting to grow more and more pronounced.
Through all of that he started to worry about the others. He was certain that they would be able to take care of themselves, but it was not as if Jahora and Elly could cast their spells all day without consequence, and despite Leaf’s resourcefulness the half elf was going to eventually run out of arrows. None of them packed for a long journey either, and there was always the chance that they simply got unlucky during an encounter with the statues. That thought made him shudder, especially in the case of Leaf and Jahora. He may have only known them for a few weeks, but it was like Leaf said, there was no way they were not a group after all they’d been through together. Agatha was also on his mind, but truth be told he did not feel much worry for the elderly woman. Given her previous displays of magic any statue that attacked her would be more an annoyance than a danger, and he suspected that the elderly woman would be able to handle herself much more than any of the others could. Age was more a threat to her than the constructs that haunted the labyrinth.
His concerns were cut short by something that gave him both relief and caution, a change of scenery.
As he turned a corner the hallway opened up into a massive room. The ceiling alone stood at least 2 stories above him, and hovering at least a story below it were several orbs of light that cast enough light to illuminate the room in its entirety. From where he entered, he stood on a platform placed before a large gap. The gap itself was filled with an arrangement of five by five columns spaced evenly from one another, and rather than reaching towards the ceiling they descended to the ground, their tops level with the platform. The columns were wide enough for a man to stand on and they were connected to one another by narrow paths of stone, their make thin enough that Helbram was not sure they could bear his weight. At the very end of the room was a platform similar to his and possessing a sealed door. To the sides were two other platforms, thin and disconnected from the rest of the room. Atop these platforms sat a series of irregularly shaped stones.
“Ah yes, those are going to come alive.” Helbram said dryly.
His musing was interrupted by a large thud that echoed from below. He felt a rumble as his feet as the noise reached his ears, and with a heavy heart he peered over the platform to the shadowed depths below. He could not make out any specific features, but he could tell whatever was down they walked on two legs, was large, and seemed to be patrolling between the columns. A second pair of heavy footsteps followed it, producing a rhythm of rumblings that made the bottom of his stomach feel heavier and heavier.
He fished a piece of stone from his pouch and tossed it towards one of the pillars. The stone struck against the top of the pillar, producing a knock that echoed throughout the room. He looked down, noting that the figures below had stopped at the sound. He cursed as he saw them disappear in a muted flash of light and reappear around the column he tossed a stone at. In the next moment he heard a crash, and then a rumble as a crack trailed from the bottom of the stone pillar up. The column crumbled soon after, taking its connecting pathways with it to the shadows below.
He shook his head, “I expected puzzles not obstacle courses…” he muttered to himself.
He stood up, peering across the room again. He felt confident that he’d be able to sprint across them in normal circumstances, but given that whatever lay down below reacted instantly doing so would be running into a quick death. Moving slowly and quietly seemed to be the solution to this problem, but he was sure the rocks that sat at the side of the room were there to disrupt that plan the moment he began.
Helbram tossed another small rock at one of the stones and sighed when it didn’t react to his provocation. The statues below didn’t seem to react either.
“I supposed that would have been too easy…”
He rolled his shoulders and took in a deep breath before walking up to one of the pathways. He placed one foot down on the pathway gingerly and pressed down with increasing strength. When the pathway didn’t crumble under his full weight he took another step forward, feeling only slight relief that the bridge was able to carry him. He continued to walk forward with caution, making little noise by the time he arrived at the top of the column. His gaze turned back to the stones. No reaction.
He grit his teeth and continued forward, making it to the second pillar without issues, but that success had only made him more suspicious as the rocks still did not react to his movements. Keeping his head moving back and forth between the two side platforms he walked forward again. By the time he made it to the center of the pathway he was on, he heard stone sliding.
He snapped his head to the side, seeing one of the rocks glow with streaks of light before unfurling into a vaguely humanoid shape. Its size was around half of the statues from before, its proportions more exaggerated. Its legs were smaller compared to the large arms that it possessed, large enough to nearly touch the ground it stood on. When its head popped up from the top of its previous stone form, it held no features other than two small slits that bled a soft white light in the air.
He did not have time to examine it further, for as soon as it unfurled it held its hand out, white light pouring from the glyph carved into its palm. A bolt of energy flew from the glyph and towards Helbram, forcing him to jump to the pillar ahead of him. The magical projectile struck the pathway he was standing on and shattered it, producing a series of echoes as its remains dashed themselves against the pillar that Helbram stood on.
He made for a dash ahead, only for the pathway to be destroyed before him by another construct that had unfurled itself from its stony form. The pillar shook a moment later, and in a panic Helbram sprinted to a pillar to the side. His boots knocked against the stone and his armor rattled during the sprint, producing a cacophony of noises as the rest of the stones revealed their true forms. As soon as his feet landed on the pillar he felt it give way as something below struck it. His path forward was once again destroyed by a construct from the side, and this time he was forced back to the previous row as the pillar he stood on fell.
His panicked flight continued as the constructs continued to fire bolts of energy at the pathways around him. He felt himself directed both forward and back as the continued noise of destruction had the figures below trailing behind him, destroying any pillar he landed on as soon as his foot touched it, forcing him to follow the trail of the only path that the constructs had not destroyed. He eventually looked away from his tormentors and kept his eyes focused on the pillars and bridges as he continued to run, the destruction lagging behind him somewhat as he increased his pace with renewed focus. As he arrived on a column near a platform he sprinted towards the steady ground, diving from the connecting bridge right before a bolt of light shattered it below his feet.
He landed on his chest, knocking the wind from him in the process. Relief mixed itself with the discomfort of catching his own breath when he realized the ground was no longer being destroyed beneath him and he rolled over with a groan. When he sat back up, his heart sank. He was back at the starting platform, the gap in front of him decidedly more bare than it originally was. The noise of his chaotic retreat had resulted in the destruction of most of the pillars, leaving only a singular path forward amongst the scattered remnants.To add further insult, the remainder of the bridges in a hail of magical projectiles as he stood up.
Helbram cut a glare to the constructs at his sides. They all returned stares back and one stepped forward before beating its chest, the knock of stone against stone bringing a flare of irritation to Helbram’s temper. This was only made worse as the rest of the constructs joined in, filling the room with a constant tempo of clattering rocks.
He grit his teeth and looked ahead, examining the row of pillars that, had their bridges not been destroyed, would have guided him directly to what he could only hope was the exit. The gaps between the platforms and the pillars close to them could be jumped, but it was the gaps between the pillars at the center that would not be so easily cleared by a normal man.
“Oh how I wish I was an Awoken…” he said with a sigh, “it looks like I have no other choice but to look for another path…”
The taunting tempo around him stopped as he turned back towards the door he came in from, only for it to shut with a decisive thud as he approached it. The tempo resumed, this time at a much quicker pace.
“All Father’s balls you have got to be -” he stopped himself and took in a deep breath, “cool your head Helbram, this is all by design… bloody prick.”
He turned around and looked at the pillars again. As he did he fished another stone from his pocket, and to his relief the constructs stopped their taunting as he rolled it in his hands. He tossed the stone at a pillar that stood alone, examining its destruction as it crumbled from the bottom down. He tested another pillar right after, noting that they appeared to crumble at the same rate, and still maintained some form of integrity before their tops broke apart. Realization hit, and he groaned.
“What a bloody way to go… you defeat a Quetali in a duel and then you die tripping off some rocks,” he muttered.
He took in a deep breath and slapped his helmet to clear his head. If he was going to succeed he would need to focus on the task at hand, not his impending death.
The constructs remained silent as they stared at him, emitting the pressure of an audience waiting with bated breath, which only served to further annoy him.
He threw a rock at the pillar in front of him, his hands trembling as he felt his heart beat against his chest at an increasing rate. When the sound of shattering stone sounded from below, he let reflex take over.
He leapt from the platform, his weight directing the falling pillar forward as he landed on top of it. He threw another rock at the next column, leaping to it as the pillar below him fell forward, closing enough distance to allow him to clear the gap between them. Screams built at his throat as he did so, his body growing numb to everything besides the heartbeat he could hear in his ears. Again he threw a stone ahead of him, and again he jumped, uttering every curse he knew in his head as he soared through the sky. He jumped too hard, landing at the edge of the pillar ahead instead of at its center. His following leap was too weak, and instead of landing on top of the pillar ahead he struck its edge. He wrapped his arms around the ridged design of the pillar and could only yell as it listed forward.
His legs and arms worked furiously to pull him upright, and while the pillar tilted forward he found some purchase beneath his feet. The moment he did adrenaline and instinct took over, propelling him forward into a leap that once again landed him on the side of a column rather than on top of it. Stone shattered beneath him, and once again the pillar fell forward. A desperate scramble followed, and to his fortune this pillar struck the side of the platform ahead, granting him enough time, and enough of a slope, to run up the side of the pillar and towards the edge of the platform. He was close, he could-
The pillar slipped, losing all of its leverage as it fell to the shadows below.
Helbram leapt from the falling column, screaming as he pulled the pickaxe from his waist while flailing his hands forwards. His chest struck the edge of the platform, but his scream remained undisturbed as he drove the pickaxe into the stone. It bit in just enough to give him some leverage to hold himself momentarily, and in that window his free hand and feet scrambled against the edge of the platform, pulling him up and onto the platform. He scrambled away from the edge as he did so until he made it to the door and collapsed, the heaving from his breaths drowning out all other sound aside from the flutter that was his heartbeat.
He rolled over onto his back, staring up at the sealed door. To his surprise it was now enveloped in a pale white light, and before he could react it disappeared. In its place was Leaf, who was peering down at Helbram as his head poked through the doorway.
“Well it’s about godsdamned time you showed up,” the half elf said.
“Piss off.”