Underground dungeon craw.., p.9
Underground (Dungeon Crawler Adventures), page 9
“And so you shall,” stated the baron with all sincerity.
About that time, the walls of the passageway where it jogged to the right began to brighten with Vika Tor’s return. Shortly, the young swordsman appeared coming around the corner. His pace was slightly quickened.
When he drew near, Lord Michael asked, “Did you find anything?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Some distance beyond where the passage turns.”
“What?” asked Breya.
“You should see this for yourself,” he replied.
“It…isn’t more of the lizards is it?” asked Breya nervously.
He shook his head. “Nothing like that.”
Coming to his feet, Lord Michael retrieved the makeshift torch as Parr assisted Breya to her feet. “What is it exactly?”
“You’ll see,” he replied. Moving off, he led the others down the passage and around the corner. “It isn’t far.” Holding the lantern before him, he directed its light to shine on the passage floor before them.
Breya held onto Lord Michael’s arm for a sense of security as her eyes focused on the passageway gradually being revealed by the light. What could it be? Visions raced through her mind, each as unlikely as the next, and with each step drew ever closer.
It was quite a start when the light revealed the boot, and then the leg bone protruding from the aged leather. It was a skeleton, the first of four skeletons lying upon the stone passageway floor. Each was decked out in full armor; helm, breastplate, greaves, etc, though all showed signs of age. That they had been here for some time was unquestioned as the bones were picked clean and vacant sockets stared outward from beneath the helms.
Remnants of cloth still clung to them, the material of what used to be packs rested on the ground among them. Vika Tor saw the glint of gold being reflected back through holes in the packs. Stepping forward to investigate, he was suddenly stopped by Parr.
“Don’t,” advised Parr. “I don’t think it’s safe.”
Vika Tor cast an annoyed look back at the other man. “What do you mean?”
“These men did not fall in battle,” replied Parr. “Their armor is not damaged, their bones are not shattered or broken, nor is there any other indication that a fight occurred here.” He glanced to Lord Michael. “Something else killed these men.”
The baron gave the skeletons a more thorough once over. After a moment’s examination, nodded. “You may be right. If they were killed by another, why wasn’t their equipment and valuables taken?”
“Exactly,” agreed Parr. Turning back to the nearest skeleton, he drew his knife and used it as a pointer. “See here,” he said, directing their gaze with the knife point toward a pointed metal dart barely three inches in length which lay half buried beneath a shield. Then he pointed to another, and another. “I believe they may have encountered a trap of some kind,” he explained. “One that caused darts, most likely poisoned, to shoot from the walls.”
He had Vika Tor shine the lantern’s light toward the wall on the left. A patchwork containing dozens of small holes, wide enough to allow the darts to pass, began a foot and a half from the floor and ended three feet from the ceiling.
“Do you think it is safe?” asked Lord Michael.
“How would I know?” replied Parr. “But keep in mind that the trap Breya rescued me from had reset on its own. So the possibility is good for this one to do the same.”
Vika Tor directed the lantern’s light further down the passageway to beyond the area with the skeletons. The patchwork extended a ways past before the walls returned to solid stone. The passageway continued past the reach of the lantern.
“Must be something down there,” the young swordsman stated. “Something worth the effort to construct such a trap.”
“But how are we to pass?” asked Breya.
“Maybe keep setting the trap off until it runs out of darts?” suggested Lord Michael.
Nodding, Vika Tor replied, “That may just work milord.” Turning his attention back to the area before them, he asked, “Now, how do we spring the trap?”
“The floor,” offered Breya. “That was what set off the other one.”
“That would seem reasonable,” agreed Parr. “Perhaps check the floor where the dart holes in the wall begin.”
“Very well,” said Vika Tor. Handing the lantern to Parr, he moved forward until he was but a foot from the boot of the first skeleton. Glancing to the dart holes on either side of the passageway, he drew his sword and placed the tip against the floor next to the boot. Then pressing ever so gently to begin with, he gradually increased the pressure until he was exerting quite a bit. Nothing happened.
“Try it a little further in,” suggested Lord Michael.
Moving the tip of his sword another foot into the skeleton covered area, he again applied steadily increasing pressure against the floor. When nothing happened once more, he took a step back and sheathed his sword. Turning back to the others, he asked, “Now what?”
“Run through it fast?” Breya said.
Parr shook his head and chuckled. “Not likely. The dart holes cover a good distance. Even moving with all your speed you would be unable to make it to the other side before being struck, providing the darts fire again of course.”
“How about crawling through?”
Three pairs of eyes turned toward Breya.
“If we keep flat against the floor, we should be able to remain beneath the path of the lowest darts,” she explained.
Vika Tor looked dubious, though Lord Michael and Parr both thought it was a good idea. “We don’t even know if this so-called trap remains functional,” the tall swordsman stated.
Gesturing for him to lead the way, Parr said, “After you then.” Vika Tor made no move to proceed.
“Fine,” said Parr. “I’ll lead the way if you haven’t the nerve to do it.” He was about to drop to all fours and begin crawling forward when Vika Tor grabbed him and yanked him backward.
“I shall lead the way,” he said.
As the young swordsman lowered himself and got into position, Parr glanced over to Breya, grinned, and then winked. Breya couldn’t help but grin in return.
Vika Tor kept to the center of the passageway as he began moving forward. When the first skeleton partially blocked his way, he pushed it aside.
“Grab the pack,” said Parr. “There may be something of use within.”
“No problem,” replied the swordsman. “Should I drag their bones with me to?”
“Not unless you want to,” said Parr. “There are four packs, one for each of us. You take the first one, then each of us will take another as we go.”
Reaching out for the nearest pack, Vika Tor took hold of its tattered strap and dragged it along. Once he was past the first skeleton, Parr dropped to the ground and followed.
Thus far, no darts had fired from the holes in the walls. Vika Tor was already midway through the skeletons lying upon the floor and they were beginning to think that perhaps this trap was disabled. But shortly after Breya began her turn, there was a barely audible ‘click’ and three dozen darts shot out from both sides.
The passing of the darts just inches over her head scared Breya half to death and she froze spread-eagle on the floor. Ping. Ping. Ping. Striking the opposite wall, the darts fell harmlessly to the floor.
“Anyone hit?” shouted Lord Michael. Still standing at the edge of the trap area, he looked worriedly toward his companions.
“Not me!” shouted Breya.
“Me neither,” answered Parr.
“I think they missed us all,” added Vika Tor. Pushing aside another skeleton, he continued on his way. With pushing the lantern with one hand, and dragging the newly acquired pack with the other, not to mention keeping flush against the floor lest another flight of darts find their mark in his posterior, the young swordsman was glad when he at last passed the last skeleton and moved beyond the walls riddled with dart-holes.
Coming to his feet, he turned back and saw Parr right behind him. Breya and Lord Michael were still less than half way through, Breya was having a hard time. She had already acquired the third pack and its presence was throwing off her motion.
Shining the light down the as yet unexplored section of the passageway, he saw how it continued into darkness. He took a step forward to explore when from behind he heard Parr say, “Might be a good idea to wait for the rest of us.”
The swordsman glanced back toward him.
“There could be further traps ahead,” he stated.
A thoughtful expression came over Vika Tor a moment, then the young swordsman nodded. “Perhaps you are correct.”
Parr gave him a grin which didn’t set well with the swordsman. Taking a seat against the wall, the smaller man cast a glance toward the other two making their way through the trap area before opening the pack he had taken.
Not much of anything to salvage inside other than a few coins, two silvers and three coppers, each bearing the same markings as had the coins found earlier. There was a blanket that was all but deteriorated into uselessness, what may have been an iron knife now pitted with rust, and a three inch wooden stick cracked in two places.
Vika Tor’s pack yielded not much better items. Again some coins, this time there were two golds and two silvers, another ratty blanket, a frayed length of rope completely unusable, and wrapped in a cloth at the very bottom was a silver disk the size of a man’s palm.
One side of the disk bore an image of a three tusked boar, the third tusk protruding at an awkward angle from the left side of its mouth. The other side depicted a twig bearing five, fat leaves. He held it up. “This is interesting.”
Parr glanced over to it and nodded. “Must be a family crest or something.”
Taking another look at the boar, then the twig, Vika Tor shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of any like this.”
“Still, we better keep it.”
“I agree.”
By this time, Breya had reached the end and was coming to her feet. Lord Michael soon followed.
“That was a good idea you had,” the baron said to her.
She shrugged. “It seemed the right course of action milord.”
“Now,” said Lord Michael as he opened his newly acquired pack, “let’s see what’s in this.” Neither his nor Breya’s held anything of worth, not even coins. Clothes fallen into ruin, camp equipment such as a pot and utensils rusted beyond repair, at least the packs were semi-serviceable, provided of course they didn’t pack them too full of items. Their worn exteriors promised a quick, and sudden, parting should they push providence too far.
Vika Tor showed them the disk, but neither Breya nor Lord Michael recognized it. Lord Michael concurred that it wasn’t a family crest. There was none of the heraldic symbology present of which family crests were made. Rewrapping the disk in cloth, he returned it to the pack then slung the pack over his shoulder. Taking up the lantern, he again led the way.
—7—
After a not so short distance, the passageway ended at another room. This one was a bit larger than the others they had thus far encountered, over forty feet across at its widest. The irregularity of the room’s shape was not the most striking feature, rather it was the pool of water which filled the room and began a foot below where the passage came to an end.
Across the water and slightly to the left, the lantern’s light revealed an opening in the wall which looked more like the entrance to a cave than the beginning of another passage. Roughly seven feet in height, the passageway angled leftward out of sight.
Shining the lantern’s light into the passage revealed white elongated objects lying strewn across the floor. It didn’t take them long before they realized what they were. Bones.
“A predator of some kind lives down that passage?” suggested Vika Tor.
“I wouldn’t think so,” argued Lord Michael. “Not unless it can’t swim.”
“Why do you say that milord?” asked Breya.
Motioning back down the passage they stood in, the baron replied, “Because it didn’t bother those dead men back there. If it had, their bones would be all over the place.”
“I see your point,” agreed Parr. Sniffing the air, he failed to detect any odor indicating the presence of an animal. “Could be the creature died off. Or perhaps went to another locale.”
Hope sprang to Breya’s face. “Then that may mean yonder passage could be the way out!”
Lord Michael gazed dubiously across the water to the opening. “Possibly,” he said, then turned his attention toward her. “However, I would not wish for you to get your hopes up just yet.”
“Still, it could be milord,” she asserted.
Parr patted her on the shoulder. “It could be,” he affirmed. “Let’s check it out.”
The only way over was to enter the water and swim across. Though the crossing itself didn’t cover a great distance, Vika Tor and Lord Michael were wary to try.
“It’s the armor,” explained Lord Michael. “I have no doubt in mine and Vika Tor’s ability to swim the distance had we not the added weight of our armor.” Back in his prime, he would have had no qualms about crossing such a narrow distance even in full armor. Age has caused him to reevaluate what he dare try, and to his shame, has rendered him somewhat hesitant.
Vika Tor nodded as he shone the lantern’s light directly toward the water. “Not knowing how deep it is, we could be dragged under.” His armor easily outweighing Lord Michael’s by half, he didn’t relish the idea of making the attempt.
“Leave it here,” suggested Parr.
Looking outraged, Vika Tor asked, “Divest myself of my armor?”
“Sure,” replied Parr. Glancing from one to the other of the armored men, he could see neither wished to shed their protection.
“But what if it’s the way out milord?” asked Breya.
Sighing, the baron said, “If that should be the case, then I would gladly put my armor aside.”
Parr came to stand before Vika Tor, a crooked smile playing across his face. “So,” he began in a tone designed to irritate the swordsman, “I take it I’ll have to once again take the fore into the unknown?”
“Mock me will you?” Outraged, Vika Tor pulled his sword.
Before the young swordsman’s blade could clear the scabbard, Parr took one quick step backward, and leapt. Sailing out over the water, he twisted in mid arc and split the water in a clean dive.
“I’m going to kill him,” vowed Vika Tor.
“No,” said Lord Michael in a calm voice. “You are not.”
Eyes filled with indignant outrage turned upon the baron.
“We are going to need everyone to get out of this place,” reasoned the baron. Staring down the young swordsman who held his blade as if ready to strike, Lord Michael never flinched.
Parr broke the surface fifteen feet away and sputtered, “It’s cold!”
Vika Tor locked eyes with the baron for a brief moment longer before sheathing his sword.
Breya took the lantern from Vika Tor and moved it to shine upon where Parr bobbed in the water. “Is it deep?”
“I can’t touch the bottom,” he replied. “Shine the light on the passage.” When the light moved from him to the opening, he swam toward it.
“Be careful,” advised Breya.
The three watched him swim across and eventually climb out of the water into the passage. Vika Tor bore a grimace the entire time until it vanished and a grin took its place. “What is he going to use for light?” he chuckled under his breath.
Breya heard him. “How are you going to see?” she shouted over to him.
“Good question,” replied Parr. “Keep shining that light this way and I’ll see what I can come up with.”
Everything he had on him when he entered the pool was soaked, and completely unusable for fuel. Water flowed from him as he moved, his feet squishing in his boots. He hated water-logged boots but prudence dictated for him to keep them on at least for the moment. Emptying out the excess did little to alleviate his discomfort.
The tunnel continued into darkness, the light from the lantern illuminated only the first five feet or so. Scattered about the ground were half a dozen bones of varying length, from less than three inches to a complete thigh bone which looked suspiciously human in nature.
Just past the fringe of the light he detected something lying upon the floor, a small dark mass in the deepening darkness. Moving forward, he found it to be about the size of a large cabbage and used his foot to nudge it out of the darkness.
When the object entered the light, he saw it to be what used to be the hood of a cloak. As it rolled, a skull emerged from within the cloth. Rolling to a stop, its vacant eyes stared up at Parr. There was no mistaking the fact, the skull had belonged to a human. Moving the skull with the toe of his boot, he turned the eyes from him until the skull’s face rested against the side of the wall.
“I think I may have something,” he shouted to the others.
Picking up the thigh bone, he wrapped the hood around one end and tied it securely around the bone’s knob. Then using flint and steel, he struck sparks to it. He couldn’t help but glance to the back of the skull’s head as he worked to ignite the material. Certain as he was the thigh bone and the skull had once belonged to the same person, he silently begged forgiveness of the dead person’s spirit.
Sshhnick
Sparks fell upon the cloth and he gently blew across them. Twice more he struck sparks before one began smoldering within the material. Bending low, he blew gently and watched as the spark grew brighter. Then smoke appeared and finally a flame.
“Excellent,” he said as the flame grew. Smiling to himself, he raised the torch and climbed to his feet. Glancing once more to the skull, he offered a silent thank you to it before turning toward the tunnel.
With the makeshift torch held above his head, he now could see there was more than one skeleton lying upon the tunnel floor. Aside from the one he originally encountered, there were three others. All were stripped of flesh and cloth. Unlike the ones found in the outer passage, these bore no armor, packs or anything else which could be considered useful. There were however other tattered remnants of cloth similar to the hood which he gathered, for he knew the cloth of the hood would not burn for long by itself. Tearing the wider swaths into strips, he soon had fifteen lengths of cloth, two of which he immediately added to the torch. Once they caught and were burning well, he resumed moving down the tunnel.
