Much to my astonishment, I was in a rectangular room much like the one I’d left. The shape of the room was not the astonishing part. The fact I could see it was.

The room was lit in a blue white glow.

Three large stones scattered near equidistant about the top half of the room. They looked somewhat like stalagmites, but stalagmites with even sides like a pillar, and a slightly rounded top. They were perhaps four feet in height. The light came from the stones. Not from their surface, that was blackish-grey. It glowed within like a jewelled heart.

This was not the dim light of my will-o-wisps, but a full moon’s lustre on a cloudless night. An ordinary man could have seen the lights from one mountain’s peak to another. To mine they blazed like a watchtower’s lantern. Three miniature lighthouses to guide my step.

A suit of armour lay among them. Untouched. Neither rust nor time marred it. Treasure surrounded the armour. Real treasure, like the princess’s clothing, not the ogres’ hoard.

Geometric patterns crawled (figuratively) along the full surfaces of the two walls to my left and front. The whole place had an air of wonder about it.

The whip and the bones didn’t really gel with the rest of it.

The beetles had made it to the wall.

The giant insects weren’t nearly as horrifying under my ring-sight and ring-touch as the spiders had been. They were even beautiful up close. Like a fine statue. What internal organs they had were also made of red stone, and in no configuration I’d seen before. The mosses they ate gathered in their stomachs, but to what end I couldn’t tell. Ring-life-sight revealed that the mosses hadn’t even died. I couldn’t tell if their eyes worked, but their beryl antennae seemed to. They were whipping around like reeds in a storm. Investigating the last spot I’d been, I assumed.

If they were going to stay still in my line of sight, I was going to use it. I summoned my swords back toward the pair. A moment later, five blades struck down in synchrony.

Once again I was astounded by the resilience of the beetles. Four of the blows which could tear apart iron doors without effort deflected off their ruby carapaces. The force was enough to knock the beetles down, but once again the uninjured beetle rose without a scratch. The five legged beetle would have also presumable risen, but my fifth blade had other plans. Though the beetles were unbelievably tough, they were also brittle. This became apparent when, pinned against the ground with no legs to absorb the shock, my fifth blade shattered the injured beetle’s abdomen into a shower of rubies.

The other beetle reacted at once. It pivoted on the spot like it was on a turntable. It growl-chittered in that peculiar way they had. It took off like an arrow out of my line of sight.

The other beetle wasn’t moving. They didn’t have any blood, but apparently from a severe enough wound they could still die.

I turned my attention away from my ring’s senses and back to the glowing room.

It had two doors, one directly to my right, and one fifty feet away at the other end of the room. The corner opposite the nearer door would do nicely. I’d have a view of all entrances to the room while I was writing.

The lights cut off a moment after I took my first step.

Will-o’-WispII

I found myself blinking light scars out of my eyes as I struggled to adjust to the new gloom. The stones had stopped glowing completely. Had they reacted to motion? To noise? I hadn’t done much of either.

I sat in my chosen corner. Each door received a light. I’d have to draw under the senses of my ring.

_☼North Star☼_

My swords were gone. As were the fireballs. The lights summoned with them would remain, but they were in the other room. My will-o’-wisps in this room didn’t last as long, but as it turned out, they didn’t need to.

The stones had re-lit. Once more the room was washed in that gentle blue-white glow.

“What’s that about then?” I called to them.

The lights winked out.

Sound it was then. Though the spider-sense had shown me movement and sound were not so different. It was one thing to feel your teeth buzz with a drawn out “th”, it was another to ‘see’ it carried by the air.

☼North Star☼

Two lights appeared before me. The brighter pointed toward the darkened stones, the dimmer back toward the wall I’d come through. Which meant I was sitting in the south-west corner, the direction I wanted to be headed in. I was still going the right way, more or less.

I sent my lights toward the centre of the room. I could move them closer together and further apart, but it was as if they slid along the inside of a pipe or were chained to the same dowel. Always in a line pointing north-south.

I could try my luck with the doors, but I’d rather teleport back into the room where I’d faced the beetles and trace my steps back to the ogres lair from there. It wasn’t quite yet the end of the day, but I was quickly growing tired, even if my spells had been reknewed. Hungry too, though that wasn’t a problem I could solve here.

Or could I?

The stash of treasures among the tall stones included several pouches as well as a loaf of bread. Much like the armour it rested near, it appeared unblemished. My life sight didn’t even detect any starts of fungal growth or mold.

So: two full pouches, a cask, a set of iron keys, a vial of oil, an amphora, the bread, the armour, the whip, and a set of runed bones. All in perfect condition. Was it the bones or the stones which were responsible? Or the room itself? Would I too be frozen in perfect preservation if I got too close? Had I been frozen already?

No.

I’d seen the beetle run away. I could still call to my swords. The timer had yet to run out.

Still, I could afford to be safe.

I fished out the teleportal stone from my pouch and tossed it into the centre of the treasures.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it hadn’t happened. Maybe for the stone to be frozen in mid air, or bounce straight off. For the pillars to alight and draw the stone toward them. The button bounced and clattered like any other stone. The rough pillars about the room remained dimmed.

I stepped into the imaginary outline I’d labelled as suspect.

Nothing.

Whatever mechanism had preserved the treasures and the bread didn’t work on me. Or didn’t work by freezing them in time. Perhaps I’d not age as long as I dwelled here. I was already hungry and tired, so it was hard to tell if it prevented the conditions from getting worse.

The bread was good, for bread. I’d always found bread a bit too close to dark magic for my liking. But it turned out it wasn’t close enough for the pit in my stomach or the light feeling in my head. It would have been nice to have something with it, but a quick investigation had found the vial and the amphora to be containing scented oils, and the pouches calabash.

A quick sniff revealed the calabash to be a heady mix; oleander, hashish, frankincense, poppies, myrrh, cloves. Combined with the oils these were a shaman’s tools. Not true calabash for smoking at all, but for offerings.

The cask smelled like mead, but while I had clean water to wash the bread down I wouldn’t risk it.

I ended up eating the entire loaf in a single sitting. I guess I’d been hungrier than I’d thought. How long had it been? Two days now?

I dusted my hands off and knelt to examine the armour. No wonder it hadn’t rusted. With the light reflecting off of it I’d thought it was made of metal, but it was polished bone affixed together in scales. Lamellar, it was called.

It was unusually small. I was a man of average height, and I’d found most armours could fit me, be they a bit too tight or a bit too loose, but this was clearly too small. I shrugged it on anyone, leaving the laces open, wearing it more like an apron than armour.

Danger.

Death.

The points on those rocks.

They could kill me. The armour would keep me safe.

My eyes darted to the pouches. Poison? Had I touched them? I was still alive. Best not to touch things without the armour.

I coughed.

A bit of bread stuck at the back of my throat—

I coughed again.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

And again.

Flecks of water flew from my mouth.

Then dribbled from my lips.

I was drowning.

I pulled the armour closer, peering around. Where was the water coming from?

Water poured from my nose.

Was I under water?

Coughing wasn’t enough now. My abdomen heaved and my ribs ached, but the water wouldn’t clear from my lungs. It poured from them like a god’s amphora.

I was filling with water!

More dark magic?

I clenched my jaw shut. Forced my chest to still.

The flow of water abated, but my lungs remained filled with it. I could see it with my ring.

Pain and panic seared through me, as bright as the runes in my mind.

True Teleport II

I gasped as I reappeared a few feet to my left. Two balls of water, in the shape of my lungs splashed down beside me.

I could brea—

This time I was watching for it. My lungs were steadily filling with water once more.

The armour!

I tore it off and cast it to the ground.

No! Idiot! Fool! Danger!

The armour couldn’t protect me on the ground. I needed it wrapped around me! It was the only way to stay saf—

The fear left me as quickly as it had come. The waters stopped rising. It still hurt like volcanic sands.

A cough wrenched me forward. And then another. I still had about two inches of fluid left in my lungs.

Safe Teleport

I reappeared naked and free from water. My gear fell down into a wet pile behind me. I’d reappeared almost immediately, having only travelled a couple feet.

The armour had been cursed! Had I been smaller I might have tightened it on me before the curse had taken effect, and then been too scared to take it off. It was a death trap for midgets.

I eyed the remaining items warily.

One the one hand, I only had a single teleport left, and it was a risky one to use.

On the other, the armour was the first dangerous item I’d come across in all my time wandering the dungeon.

I’d start small. A dab of oil on the back of my wrists.

The oils smelled nice enough, but that was it. I re-stoppered the amphora and sealed the vial.

I couldn’t be sure when it came to the keys, because I didn’t dare try them on a door. The keys sticking to my fingers was reminder enough of why that was a bad idea. They seemed normal enough though.

I wasn’t going to try the cask and the whip didn’t reveal anything other than my inability to produce a proper crack. That left the rune carved bones.

There was six of them in all. All bundled together with a simple strip of leather. By there angular make and harsh edges the runes were orc runes. I had no idea what they said but it was the same on each bone.

Human bones, probably.

They were the right size and shape. Fingers or toes. It was a little macabre, but less than it could have been. From what stories I’d read of the orcneas, their runes were almost carved with the permission of the one they’d carved into. Either the donor gave a lost limb to their shaman, or agreed to part with their bones after death in exchange for some boon. The poor fellow probably wouldn’t mind me holding hands with him.

I undid the strap. They weren’t knuckle-bones but the longer bones from the area. Wrist to knuckle, or ankle to toe. They’d been shaved flat and then had the runes put on the flat sides. The runes were the same on each bone, so I doubted they were for fortune telling.

My nose bounced off something while I was shuffling the runes from one hand to the other.

Strange.

I didn’t see anything.

My ring sight didn’t either, except... My spider-sense didn’t see something. The air currents between my hands had stopped.

I moved my hands apart and the space widened; both horizontally and vertically. I pulled my hands back past my torso. It wasn’t like moving a wall, the air didn’t swirl in behind it. My spider sense only noticed the slightest trace of its movement, where faster air currents from my moving arms didn’t move past them. Rather I felt something slide over my face and chest, and only when my hands stopped moving did the air pool up against the barrier once more.

I placed the two bundles of bones—three in each—on the ground to either side of me, just a little bit in front. Then I slowly moved my hand through the air between them at about the height of my knees.

My arm slid off something smoother than ice. It couldn’t penetrate the gap between the bones. I increased the pressure. The invisible, ephemeral wall remained firm.

The wall seemed to form a square no matter how large it was. I wondered if there was a size limit. So I grabbed one bundle (making a diamond as the one end raised higher than the other) and walked back to the wall I’d teleported through. It took a moment for the wall to resolve in my spider sense, but it was there; twenty feet long and reaching all the way to the ceiling.

I leaned against my invisible barrier.

Neat.

Now this was almost worth being crushed by beetles and drowning for. Almost. Maybe one or the other, but not both.

I looked at the bundle of three bones to the left of me, and the bundle of three to the right. Why three? Did it need to be three? I went over to the left pile and grabbed one of the bones. I walked it a few steps toward the geometric-pattern covered wall.

My ring sense revealed the outcome before I could test it. Not my ring-touch, that still didn’t notice the wall at all, strangely, but my spider-sense. Two planes of force stretched out behind me while I walked. At an off canter angle no less. The walls of force had their bottom line described by the shortest line directly between the bones. After placing the bone down I found myself surrounded by a small triangle of force.

I pressed on the wall, then punched it. Then punched it with all my might. It didn’t hurt. No matter how much force I used my fist just slid gently aside. And the wall held. Which meant I’d trapped myself.

I walked back to the far corner and squatted next to the vertice of the triangle. The bone was at a tangent to the point, barely within the triangle’s bounds. It took a few tried before I was able to fit a finger in the point and rotate the bone enough to grasp it. It appeared the wall was projected from the bone’s outside edge, which was fortunate. Had it been the inside I might have truly trapped myself.

One the bone was in hand I could easily move the planes of force past myself. Once more they imparted no force while moving, yet nothing could move against them in turn.

And if three bundles of bones meant three walls, how many walls did six mean?

***

I managed to trap myself in a hexagon a few minutes later. Not truly trapped—I was pretty sure I could easily rotate the bone in the northmost corner enough to grab it, but the other five would take a bit of work.

I’d gotten six walls in the end. Each bone didn’t project to every other bone, but instead to the two closest. That meant if I moved the bones right, the shape would suddenly collapse into a new configuration, which was somewhat hard to predict when just eyeballing the distances.

I rotated the off-centre bone and collapsed the hexagon. The bones went in my pouch. I was keeping them.

During all of my experimentation the three tall stones had remained dim. I guess they were shy.

So, to leave or not to leave?

I only had the one teleport spell left, my emergency back up spell. That suit of armour had done a number on my spellbook.

I glanced at my glowing compass. It had dimmed while I was playing with the armour and the bones. About half an hour left.

I’d teleported through the south wall of the room, which meant the door I was now facing was to the east.

Sword Storm III

Something spun.

Something writhed.

Shadows fought with light, and shadows won; Life failed.

A single sword appeared. A single light and a single fireball accompanied it. That was all.

I retrieved my spellbook. My ring-vision had seen the fainting shifting of wax, my ring-touch had felt it slips beneath my ghostly fingers, but some things I wanted to feel for myself.

I pulled off a glove to trace the rune with my finger. The spell’s strength had doubled once again, but to do so I’d lost two swords in the bargain. At least it appeared as if it would last for an hour.

I retreated back from the door to crouch behind one of the big rocks. Once there I changed my mind and pulled out the bones. I made a little triangle about myself with two bones in each pile. I was still partially hidden by the rock all the same. I had no idea if the bones could stop lightning or bolts of magic.

The sword was too strong. It went straight through the door. The door followed it a moment later, slamming into the wall behind it on its hinges. I guess it hadn’t been locked.

Oh well.

I drug the sword back into the chamber while I picked up my bones. Sparks and an awful screech rose from the threshold and floor, but no traps went off.

I made my way for the door while my sword finished off by putting a triangle on the south wall. If I got lost this would remind me where I’d come from.

It was rather loud. Between the smashing, crashing, scrapping, and carving I didn’t doubt I’d woken up the whole floor of creatures. Perhaps the whole dungeon. And they were letting me know.

A racket of wailing and moaning rose up so loud that I couldn’t hear my own footsteps. My ring could, if I focused, but even then the ringing stones were muted and confused by the echoes of howls and laughter.

I was so busy focusing on my ring I nearly missed the smashed doorway leading off the corner of the hallway where it turned sharply right. I was back at the room of hexagons. The one with the small stream cutting through it and north up to the room the spiders had formerly inhabited.

I threw my arms out as if greeting an old friend and permitted myself a moment of silly relief, “My stream of memories! It is so good to see you!”

That was when they jumped me.

The racket completely drowned out their footsteps. Had I been paying full attention I’d still not have detected them. These were creatures made for stealth. Made for ambush.

Not spiders, thank the heavens. That would have been too much for a single day. My ring offered me a glimpse of white flesh and long humanoid limbs, similar to the Trogodytes, but these creatures had teeth. Huge teeth set in the mouth of a maned-dog, and claws which tore at my armour as two of them crashed into me.

Fast Teleport

I reacted before we hit the ground. Half a second later I was behind the northern door of the corridor without lights or magic weapons. I’d acted quickly, not wisely. My ring sense had only offered me one escape were the ghouls could not immediately follow. Had I been able to think it through I would have teleported behind my sword instead, down the corridor where I could see a ways.

Next time.

I spun about, handcannon raised, back to the door, half a ring’s eye watching it for signs of ghoul intrusion.

Magic Swords II

I summoned the swords as much for the light as the protection the weapons could provide.

I needn’t have bothered.

The fire-breathing goat could light up the room just fine on its own.