Zo’Dal chose the smaller of the two halls, the one which stretched forward directly from the base of black stair, as their path ahead. She hoped that it might be less well-traveled than the greater hall and lead to some secluded place that they might securely hide and rest. Fel said nothing. If he did have any reservations regarding her decision, he was in little condition to argue and made no effort at it.
They moved slowly, with Zo'Dal struggling to support her limping companion, and they were far from silent. Neither had a free hand to hold a weapon, as both of Zo'Dal's were occupied supporting Fel, and his free hand, the one not wrapped about her shoulders, held their only light source.
The lantern bounced and swung with each lurching step they took, and the meager light it gave danced across the glistening black stone floor tiles before being swallowed up by the darkness hiding between the pillars and high ceiling vaults. In the still air, every sound seemed to magnify and echo: their boots scuffing against the stone floor, their labored breathing, the clatter of gear jostling in Fel’s pack. Zo’Dal could only hope that there was nothing else listening, just as she could only hope there were no traps or unseen dangers they might blunder into.
Presently, the far end of the hall came into view. A pair of large doors, arched and reaching nearly to the ceiling, dominated the wall. As they drew close and lantern light fell upon the doors, intricate, swirling designs of silver glinted on their glossy surface. The doors themselves appeared as smooth, black glass, like polished jet. Zo’Dal could see herself and Fel reflected in the glassy surface like a pool of rippling water, blurred and distorted into a single dark shape by the strange material. The shimmering orange glow of the lantern flowed and flickered across its surface, causing their reflection to waver and shift.
She paused, her dark eyes widening as she took in the edifice before her. For a moment, the sight, the strange beauty of the great portal, took her breath away.
“What?” Fel asked, and she blinked, pulled from her thoughts. He was looking at her.
“Nothing.”
With as much care as she could manage, she eased Fel to the floor. Relieved of the burden, she afforded a moment to stretch her back and shoulders. Then, taking the lantern from Fel, she approached the great doors.
She held the lantern high, casting the light across its surface, and examined the silver markings and smooth surface. Looking closely, she saw the silver etchings upon the surface of the doors were small, impossibly delicate markings forming complex patterns that swirled like waves across the doors. There were thousands of them, each as fine and complicated as any elven rune she had laid eyes on.
She was again struck by the beauty and skill it must have taken to create such a door.
Realizing the doors had no visible handles or lock by which they might be opened, only a thin, almost invisible seam running between them, she examined them carerully, looking for any hidden catch or mechanism that might indicate a trap or secret means of opening the doors with the experienced eye of a thief. She found none.
Cautiously, Zo’Dal reached a hand forward, and her eyes fell on the iron band clasped around her wrist. The silver runes inscribed on it shimmered in the light beside those on the door. She froze, her fingers a hair’s breadth from the black glass. She still didn't know the mysterious bracelet’s purpose, and it certainly could not be a good one. It wasn’t unheard of for the wealthy and powerful to, at great expense, ward their estates and palaces against and burglars by magical means. How much more likely was that in a strange and evil place like this?
“Can you open it?” Fel asked, and she nearly jumped in surprise. She could practically feel Fel’s impatient scowl boring into the back of her head.
“I'm working on it.”
Zo’Dal took a deep breath, and reached forward, half expecting to be blasted apart by arcane power or afflicted by some wicked curse.
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The door was unexpectedly cool against her fingertips. When she hadn’t been reduced to a pile of ash or turned into a rat, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
She knelt, drawing herself close, and gently pressed a pointed ear to them, that, if the strange glass-like substance of the doors allowed, she might listen for any sign of danger or movement beyond. She heard northing. The half-elf’s sense of hearing, like her sight, was particularly keen, and if she heard nothing, she was confident it meant there was nothing to be heard. Or, the door was too heavy for any sound to pass through it.
Satisfied that she had done all that she reasonably could to ensure the doors were untrapped and having found no other mechanism to open them, Zo’Dal tried the most straightforward approach first: she pressed her palm flat against one door and gave it a gentle push.
To her surprise, she felt the massive black slab shift ever-so slightly. She pushed harder, and slowly, ponderously, it began to swing open with a sound like stone grinding against stone. It echoed down the hall, past Zo’Dal and Fel, towards the black stair.
To Zo’Dal’s horror, another sound, an animalistic growl, answered it.
She looked back in time to see a light come into view at the far end of the hall, emerging from the other wide corridor that intersected it at the base of the stair and quickly growing in brightness. A heartbeat later, a pair of figures burst into view at a run. They had the shape of tall and broad-shouldered men, but were hunched and moved with a loping gait that looked more like that of a dog or beast than a man. One held a torch in its hand, and Zo’Dal saw both carried weapons. The creatures skidded to a halt in the intersection. Their heads, elongated with dog-like snouts and covered in mottled fur, turned on thick necks towards Zo’Dal and Fel.
With a roar, they charged.
Heart pounding, Zo’Dal put her shoulder into the door and pressed into it. The immense weight of it pushed back against her, but a narrow gap began to open between it and the other door, less than a hand’s width and slowly growing. Too slowly.
“Fel!” She called, but knew there was little he would be able to do to help.
Looking back to her companion, she saw that he had already drawn his sword and was using it to leverage himself to his feet to face their charging assailants. The beast-men were quickly closing the distance between them, bounding forward in loping strides. The creatures would be upon them in moments, before she could get the door open enough. Panic began to grip at her as her mind reached for some means of escape like a drowning man grasping for a rope. Fel couldn’t possibly hold them back, but he might buy her time, just enough for her to slip through alone-
With effort, she forced the thought and the panic aside, closed her eyes, and reached out her will.
There was no finesse in the use of her ability this time, no subtle weaving of the darkness or trick of the light, she didn’t have the time or the focus for that, just brute force of will. She clawed at the darkness with her mind, pulling it with an effort that seemed as strenuous as any physical exertion.
The shadows closed about her, Fel, and the beast-men like a curtain snapping shut. The light from the lantern and torch was swallowed up and smothered, and their flames burned like white pinpricks in the dark. Even to Zo’Dal’s vision, the world around them all went black.
Fel let out a surprised cry and the rapid footfalls of the beast-men came to a sudden halt. One let out a snarl of confusion or rage, and the sound of steel slamming against stone rang out through the darkness. Snarls and barks that sounded like they might be words echoed through the hall. Zo’Dal hoped the confusion would buy her and Fel a few seconds more.
The door was open enough that she could slip between them now, and she wedged her body into the gap, bracing her back against one and heaving with all her might.
“Fel,” She hissed, “The door!”
She heard him coming and he stumbled into her in the darkness. She reached out, grasping for him, caught a handful of what felt like his tunic, and pulled. Together, they tumbled through the doorway and out of the unnatural wall of shadows like falling through an unseen curtain. The light of the lantern flowed back as it passed through the doorway with them. Without pausing to look at their new surroundings, Zo’Dal scrambled back to her feet and rammed her shoulder against the door to force it closed again behind them. Fel, unable to leap to his feet, wedged his large frame against the base of the door.
Just as the massive door began to swing closed, something struck the opposite side hard enough to send a tremor through Zo’Dal. Then another, causing the door to buck violently against her and Fel. An arm covered in mottled fur, its fingers tipped in wicked claws, reached through the narrow opening beside her. It caught Zo’Dal by the arm, and she let out a yelp as claws bit through her sleeve. She tried to pull away, but the hand held her fast, its grip inhumanely strong. It pulled her towards the opening and panic gripped her.
Fel’s sword flashed out, scoring a deep cut across the limb with a splatter of blood. The creature beyond the door howled and the clawed hand recoiled, releasing Zo’Dal. The pressure on the opposite side of the door lessened suddenly, and the two companions heaved against it once more.
With an echoing boom, the door swung shut.