G took a deep breath and cautiously approached the Sphinx, stopping a few meters in front of it. He gazed up at the Sphinx's large lion-like head and listened to its deep voice.
"Who are you who comes to the dwarven Kingdom of Mirdor? Are you friend or foe?" the Sphinx asked.
G smirked; this creature wasn't exactly getting the situation.
"Guardian, I do believe we have a misunderstanding, the grurenderer here is named Bitsy. I do not know her previous name or how you know of her. I can tell you that I found her in an abandoned temple in the middle of a mushroom forest, which looked like nobody had been there for centuries. She was alone in a crumbling building. We are not your foes. Also, this kingdom you speak of, Mirbor, perhaps you can tell me more about it because I think it is no longer what you think it is. " G didn't know if this thing could reason or if it was just some magical test system looking for honest answers.
G looked behind himself to see if anything had sprung to life. There were still twelve more of the spiders, and these were bigger than the last ones.
The Sphinx looked at Bitsy, and its eyes glowed as it stared at her. Bitsy just sat back on her hunches and licked her paws, which still had dried blood on them, cleaning the fur.
"Hmm…" rumbled the creature as a magical white aura surrounded its eyes for a few moments, "I see you speak true. I do not sense the magic of the great ones upon her." His ominous gaze turned back on G, " Nor do I sense it in you. What manner of creature are you? "
G pulled back his hood and pulled down his cowl, "I'm an elf, and I'm not from the dark pathways, and I am not your foe. I come here seeking respite from those who chased us before we fell through the floor to find ourselves here. " He waited as the creature's eyes glowed again, and it looked upward at the chamber's ceiling. Was it using magic to scan the sewers? The city?
"I sense these creatures you speak of in the catacombs and sewers. " he turned his head towards G with a creaking of metal on metal. "It has been long since a young craft master has come here. What are your needs? "
G's eyebrows raised at that, "We need to get safely out of here, hopefully through the doorway you guard. Is there any way we can do that? "
The guardian sphinx rumbled then, not like Bitsy had, but a rumbling that shook his very soul. Bitsy came to her feet alert. "Hmm… you ask much, young master. You will need to prove your worth to the kingdom of Mirbor and House Granitejaw before you may enter. "
"Pardon, Guardian, you are aware that Mirbor is occupied by dark elves now? " asked G.
"Yes, elf, I am aware of this. House Granitejaw left me to guard this place for their eventual return to their homes. "The sphinx paused for a few moments, making G nervous, "If you wish to pass through this doorway, you must solve three riddles. You will get exactly one chance to answer the riddles. If you answer wrong, you will not pass here, " said the Guardian in its rumbling voice.
G projected to Tocai, "Any ideas? "
"I suggest you don't do this as in most fables, the sphinx eats those who fail the questions, " said Tocai.
"Yes, but what if I do pass the questions? " asked G.
"There is a good chance it will eat you any way out of anger, " said Tocai.
G frowned and looked around the room. Above them was the chute with a metal door covering the opening, several meters up the wall. He doubted he could pass through it again, and even if he did, he would still need to climb a very long shaft covered in smooth metal plating. Moreover, there was no way to get Bitsy up that. Resigned to the course he must take, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves.
"I got this, Tocai, " said G. At that moment, he felt good about being asked riddles as a way out of this room. He felt his ring pulse.
"Guardian, if I agree to this, what are the rules? I'm not from here. You could ask questions I would not be familiar with, " said G.
The Sphinx rumbled ominously, "I see. I would want this to be a fair thing. I do not know how long I'll have to wait before another master happens by, let us see. I have decided upon a question that would be answerable by anyone. " said the Guardian.
The Guardian's eyes glowed, "What is the difference between a dwarven wedding and a dwarven funeral? "
What the heck kind of question was that? "Tocai, what is the chance of this being a trick question?"
"One hundred percent, that is the whole point of the question, " replied Tocai.
That was clearly not of any help. He looked at the Guardian, who had twitched when G had talked to Tocai.
"You can hear me speak to my familiar, can't you?" asked G of the Guardian.
The massive creature's maw opened, revealing enormous metal fangs, each the size of a knife, as it offered a cruel semblance of a smile. A deep, rumbling chuckle emanated from its chest.
Figures, thought G, deciding it was best not to ask Tocai for any answers. He paced back and forth for quite some time, mulling over various answers. He didn't know much about dwarves but needed to find the right response. He glanced at the Guardian.
"How long do I have to answer this question?" G inquired.
"Ah, take your time, young one. I have plenty," replied the Guardian Sphinx.
G sighed and sat down, pondering the question. What had he said before? "Prove my worth to House Granitejaw." What did dwarves value most? Gold? Gems? Weapons? Their families? There were numerous possible answers to this question, much like the riddle of who slept in George Washington's house. Even a simple response, such as "not me," could be considered an answer, an answer that would probably cause them to starve to death in this room.
Seated on the step below the Sphinx, G propped his chin on his hand, elbow resting on his knee to support his head. His thoughts drifted to the last funeral he had attended, his grandfather's. He sighed, then thought of a friend's wedding from high school, the celebratory party that followed, and him not able to attend his college classes the next day. He felt a pang of homesickness, yet the image of his friend, smiling broadly as he stood and took his new wife's hand for their first dance, lingered vividly in his mind. Then, an insight struck him. He stood abruptly and turned back to face the Guardian.
" The answer to your riddle; What is the difference between a dwarven wedding and a dwarven funeral? Is One less drunk," said G.
The Guardian's eyes glowed white-hot as it pondered the response. G then felt a low rumble that began deep within the chamber, causing a momentary fear that the entire chamber might collapse. The rumble slowly transformed, taking on a timbre of deep, resonant laughter. The shift from foreboding tremor to hearty amusement left G momentarily startled, unsure if his answer had been a grave mistake. "Hahahaha! That is an acceptable answer, for dwarves are known for their love of drink and a good joke in all lands and all worlds. Well said, young master."
G sighed in relief; the answer seemed obvious once he thought about it. That one question encapsulated much of what it meant to be a dwarf.
Still chuckling slightly, the Guardian posed its next question: "Since you are a young master, what is the primary purpose of a master artisan?"
These riddles were certainly not what he had anticipated. They resembled the questions from his first job interview at age 15 for a position at an ice cream shop near his grandfather's home. Suddenly, it dawned on him that perhaps the Guardian's purpose was to ensure he was worthy of being a member of Mirbor, the ancient city before the dwarves' departure.
If that were the case, then what was the motivation behind an artisan's question? Artisans make things and sell them. Was it for personal satisfaction or for others? Perhaps both? Wealth or fame seemed unlikely, as many craftsmen showed little concern for such rewards as far as he understood it. Often, they would happily give away their work if they believed the recipient would cherish it as much as artisan did during the creative process. A master artisan must embody even greater dedication than a less-skilled craftsman.
G vividly recalled his grandfather gifting a neighbor with a handmade cabinet simply because she admired the wood's appearance. His grandfather had spent months working on the piece in his small garage workshop.
G had pursued a career in software engineering, driven by a desire to create innovative products like Tocai. He had pieced together, and refined code found online, always intending to publish the refactored code once he was satisfied with its functionality. But why? As realization struck him, he smiled; he knew.
"An artisan's primary purpose is to show love and care for all people by striving to improve everyone's lives in both small and large ways, often in ways they cannot even imagine. They do this out of love for all. That is their purpose," said G, awaiting the Guardian's response. After several seconds of silence, it spoke.
"I find this answer acceptable," said the Guardian.
G exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, he noticed the Guardian didn't say it was correct. It really felt more like an interview than a test of riddles.
"Now for the last question. What is the question to which the answer is 42?" The Guardian's eyes glowed even brighter, watching him intently.
Confused, G wondered if this was related to the old Earth joke about 42's mysterious question. That book was a classic. How could the Guardian know that? Then, it hit him.
"Tocai! Are you communicating with the Guardian?" G asked loudly.
He heard Tocai chuckle in his mind, "Yes, we thought that last question would be fun. The Guardian said you can pass. You're welcome, by the way, for my help."
The Guardian's face morphed into that eerie grin again. "You may pass, young master. Only one with the necessary skills can open the door, for it has been sealed for a very long time." The Sphinx then rose, walked to the side of the door, and sat down to observe G and Bitsy, who had been softly snoring until the colossal construct began to move. She opened one eye, glanced around, and then closed it again, seemingly uninterested in the unfolding events.
"You can't just open the door for us? Is it locked?" G approached the massive door, tall enough for the Sphinx to pass through if it wished, and used his magic sight to examine it.
"No, young master. It is for you to unlock the door, as it tests your skills and determination. It is a final challenge before gaining entry," the Guardian replied, still wearing that unsettling grin.
G nodded and focused on the door, looking for clues or mechanisms to help him unlock it. He noticed intricate patterns and runes carved into the surface as he studied the door.
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Magical Vault Doorway:
Unknown.
G took a deep breath and released it in a long sigh. This was yet another riddle. Runes etched in an arcane script encircled the door frame, casting faint glows that pulsed gently. At the base of the door, four square indentations lay on the floor, previously concealed beneath the body of the Sphinx. These must be key to unlocking the door. Three of the squares were filled with cube-shaped runes that matched the glowing script, but one was conspicuously empty, waiting for its missing cube.
"Hey, there's a runed cube missing. Do I need to solve more riddles to find it?" G asked, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and wariness. The Sphinx shifted slightly, its stone eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge.
"Perhaps," the Sphinx replied, its voice a deep rumble. "Or perhaps the answer lies not in what you seek but in what you already possess."
The Sphinx smiled without showing its teeth and closed its eyes, ceasing to respond to G's inquiries. G was tempted to rap on the creature's metal head but decided against it. He glanced at the door and the floor, realizing the solution to the puzzle was somewhere in the room. The Sphinx's reply didn't really provide a clear answer.
G examined the door and the nearby wall, spending several minutes brushing away layers of dust and rubble. Each sweep revealed more of the ancient stonework, untouched by time yet shrouded in shadows that clung to every crevice. He discovered a small piece of broken metal that appeared to be a corner of something larger. As he walked over to the three runes on the floor, his footsteps echoed in the silent chamber, stirring the cool, musty air. He brought the piece he found near the open square hole. As the piece approached, a faint flicker of magic appeared in the square recess, then vanished as if something was still missing. It seemed like the metal piece could be part of a cube that would fit in the hole. G looked up at the Guardian again, its eyes still closed.
He then spoke to his familiar, "I think we need to find the pieces for this cube. What do you think?"
"There's another piece of that metal near where the unlooted spider construct's body still rests," Tocai said.
G approached the spot and, as expected, unearthed another piece of metal partially buried in some dust. Though made of the same material, these fragments did not connect; both appeared to be different corners. G held them before him, experimenting with various alignments. Given the hole in the floor and the angular nature of these pieces, he believed they were part of a cube. He used his thumb to measure the size of the pieces, there might be as many as 21 pieces in total, three along each edge, resembling a puzzle cube crafted from jagged metal shards. This realization hinted at a more complex assembly, and he doubted it was something he could just glue together.
He quickly looted the last construct while he was near it and then employed his slouch-grab technique to add it to his inventory.
He received
2 x Clockwork Mechanisms
2 x Arcane lenses
1 x Flame rune.
With the items stacked into his inventory, G surveyed the vast room. Millennia of dust and scattered skeletal remains littered the floor. Finding all the cube pieces would be daunting, especially if they weren't all in this room. Examining the two pieces in his hand with his magic sight, he noticed a faint shimmer of magic on them. He placed them on the floor and walked five meters away. From this distance, the magic was barely visible. He looked around, the Guardian practically glowed in his mana sight, and even some of the surrounding statues had an aura, but these pieces remained nearly imperceptible.
G needed to magnify his vision. He thought about what the Sphinx had said and searched through his inventory and found what he was looking for:
Arcane Focusing Lens
Description: This mysterious magnifying glass is made of an ancient crystal that shimmers with a blend of green and clear colors, giving it a unique appearance. The edges of the lens are intricately etched with both delicate filigree designs and dark, twisting symbols, hinting at the lens's potential dual purpose. The Arcane Focusing Lens was crafted by a powerful enchanter and necromancer, who imbued it with a potent magical aura that allows the user to perceive both the arcane and necrotic energies.
Effects: When held up to the eyes of the user, the Arcane Focusing Lens allows them to focus their magical energies with incredible precision, much like the Enchanter's Focusing Glass. In addition, the lens allows the user to see the necrotic energy that surrounds all undead creatures. This allows the user to determine the age and strength of the undead, as well as any potential weaknesses or vulnerabilities that they may possess. The lens also allows the user to detect any nearby undead creatures, even if they are hidden from view. The lens provides valuable insight into the nature of the arcane and the necrotic, allowing the user to craft spells and magical items that are more effective when working with undead and other arcane entities.
Abilities: The Arcane Focusing Lens enhances the user's knowledge of both the arcane and the necrotic, providing a deeper understanding of the complex and mysterious forces that govern magic and the undead. This knowledge can be used to better understand the properties of magical items and to craft new spells and enchantments with greater ease and skill. The lens also allows the user to perceive the magical auras of nearby objects and creatures, providing valuable insight into their nature and properties.
Note: The Arcane Focusing Lens is a powerful tool that should be used with great care, as prolonged exposure to the necrotic energy of the undead can have a corrupting influence. Additionally, the crystal is delicate and prone to breakage, and the lens is highly sought after by practitioners of both the arcane and the necrotic. Only those with a strong will and a deep understanding of both the mysteries of magic and the dangers of the undead should attempt to use this powerful tool.
As G inspected the Arcane Focusing Lens, the air around him grew dense, a chill whispering across his skin as if the very essence of the lens exuded a foreboding presence. Shadows seemed to lean closer, drawn by the unsettling necrotic energy within the tool. The very sounds seemed to hush, as if in caution. He wrapped the handle with a part of his jacket, magically enhancing the fabric to thicken to form a protective layer. Despite this, a slight necrotic sensation persisted, seeping through the improvised insulation like cold mist through cloth. His spell, Elemental Absorption, reduced it slightly but did not eliminate this feeling, indicating that the jacket and fabric were not enough to shield him completely from the necrotic essence. This realization confirmed that further protection was necessary to handle the lens safely.
G fastened it to a wooden mop handle from his inventory using a sticky substance he had collected from the Area 51 spiders to improve the necrotic shielding. This makeshift assembly looked unrefined yet functioned effectively. Now, only a trace of necrotic energy was detectable when he peered through the lens and held the handle. Deciding to be cautious, he would limit its use to ten-minute intervals before taking a break and safely stowing it away.
With a sense of finality, he settled into a stance, one eye squinted shut as he peered through the lens. G's gaze swept the room, lingering on the two cube fragments he had strategically placed on the floor. Yet, his search didn't stop there. Methodically, he scanned every nook and cranny, his lens revealing a hidden world of mana flares scattered among the room's fissures and obscured corners. They winked back at him, teasingly concealed under skeletal remains and beneath shattered paving stones.
Each discovery added to his cache until he counted twenty in total, some mere specks compared to others. Without the aid of his lens, he doubted he would have unearthed the piece concealed beneath the heavy pavers. Yet, one elusive piece remained, a larger, central fragment for the completion of the cube, well he hoped it was only one.
G arranged the pieces he had already found near the door, opting not to store them in his inventory to avoid any unforeseen consequences that might provoke an attack from the Guardian by sending the pieces to wherever his inventory resided in the Planarverse.
G was on the lookout for the final puzzle piece. At one point, he thought it might have been beneath the Sphinx, but after scrutinizing the area with a crystal, which nearly blinded him in one eye due to its intense mana brightness, he found no trace of the piece or any residual magic. G scanned the room again; even the fragments previously nestled between the pavers, several centimeters below, had been plainly visible to the lens. He pondered his next move and then cast his gaze upward, scanning the ceiling. High above, on a small ledge, he caught a glimmer of magic. G employed the spell Wizard's Helping Hand and pushed the hand upward. Within seconds, it was closer and holding the small cube piece in its palm. He brought the piece down and added it to the other pieces, laid out in what he assumed was the correct order.
Each time G attempted to align the pieces, they snapped apart violently, the force echoing like thunder through the chamber, much like magnets with opposing poles. Fatigue was setting in. Despite his elven constitution requiring far less rest than his human form back on Earth, the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll.
It was now obvious the hard part would be putting it all together. G recast his travel spells for comfort and settled down to nibble on some mushroom chunks and sip water, gathering his strength now while he could. He noticed Bitsy watching him as he drank the water, so he offered her a drink. He placed a bottle of water on the ground in front of her and said, "It's water. Would you like a drink? "
Bitsy sniffed the bottle once and sat on her haunches, extending her paws on each side of the bottle. She picked up the bottle ever so gently, poured the water into her mouth, and swallowed it in a single gulp. After a few seconds, the bottle was empty, and she placed it back down softly. She clearly had some intelligence beyond just some wild beast. G watched in awe as she drank and then placed the bottle back in his inventory. He counted the remainder of his bottles, he still had a few left.
G eyed the timer for Tocai's quest: 16 hours remaining. He had no time for sleep. The broken spider constructs, though an initial thought for prolonging time, were unusable for transport. His next step was urgent—reach the noble district's magic shop or find an alternative. He looked at the other cubes, even if he put this together, he didn't think it could house Tocai either.
G waited for his mana to replenish before starting the cube assembly. Picking up one piece after another, he struggled as each resisted, repelled by an invisible force. With his mana sight now almost second nature, he visualized the internal magic and exerted a slight push of mana toward one of the pieces. Suddenly, it slipped from his grasp, rocketing across the room and crashing loudly against the wall.
He sighed, collected the scattered pieces, and sat back down, deep in thought. Then, an idea struck him. He retrieved the broom handle eyeglass from his inventory and examined the pieces more closely. The magical traces became clearer through the crystal, ebbing and flowing as the pieces neared each other. Realizing this might explain their tendency to explode apart, he nodded to himself, understanding now why they had been scattered throughout the room.
He positioned the broom handle eyeglass between two pavers until it stood upright. He took two of the pieces, placing them next to each other while observing them through the crystal. The magical flow reversed its direction as the pieces got closer to each other. G forced a bit more mana into one of the pieces, directing the flow of magic to match the other piece. Suddenly, the two pieces clicked together and fit perfectly.
Tocai's voice broke into G's concentration, tinged with pride, "'Your artificing skill has just increased, G."
G nodded to himself, then repeated the process for the remaining pieces, using his mana to manipulate the magic and guide the pieces into place until he had the last one in his hand. He studied the cube and observed the magic rotating around it like an aura. Through the lens, he saw a pattern forming opposite to the last piece.
G raised an eyebrow and flashed a wry smile. Tocai. "Are you ready for this?" His voice held a mix of excitement and apprehension. Tocai returned a silent but firm affirmation.
G took a deep breath and inserted the last piece of the cube into place. The cube shuddered in his hand as it was completed, and the lines that separated the various pieces disappeared, leaving it whole. As the final piece clicked into position, a low hum began to resonate from the cube, growing louder, harmonizing with the chamber's natural acoustics.
Suddenly, the air around G shimmered with a silvery glow, and the ghostly figure of a dwarven master smith materialized before him. The spectral dwarf, clad in an ancient leather apron and with a long, intricately braided beard that seemed to flicker with sparks of ethereal fire, nodded approvingly at G. His eyes, deep and wise, bore the glow of forges long extinguished yet alive in his magical presence.
Behind the master smith, the shadows of the chamber danced to life, revealing more spectral dwarves. Each phantasmal figure was absorbed in their craft, hammering rhythmically at translucent anvils that rang with a celestial tone. Sparks flew from their ghostly hammers, drifting upward and fading into stardust, casting a mystical light over the scene. Their anvils were arrayed like the stars in the night sky, each strike echoing a whisper of ancient secrets and forgotten arts.
The air around G shimmered with an ethereal chill, a sign of the spectral realm crossing into the mortal chamber. As the mystical energy intensified, it seemed as if the very essence of ancient magic was weaving through the chamber, a silent yet palpable presence heralding the long-forgotten dwarven spirits. As G held the completed cube, it pulsed with a radiant light, each pulse in sync with the spectral smiths' hammer blows, intertwining G's efforts with the legacy of dwarven craftsmanship.
The chamber's walls seemed to respond to the completion of the cube, with runes previously hidden amongst the stones now glowing a soft blue, outlining paths and patterns that hinted at deeper magics at work before fading.
The Guardian's eyes abruptly opened. They shone with an intense light that seemed to pierce through the dimness, gazing deeply as if peering into the very essence of G's being.
"May fortune shine brightly on your travels, young master," he said before closing his eyes and sitting motionless.
G nodded reverently to the Sphinx, walked over to the small square indentation in the floor, turned the cube to match the markings at the bottom, and dropped it into place. There was a rumbling in the wall, and the seal around the door flared with light. With a loud pop, air rushed into the room as the door slowly opened before him.