Partida Rol por web

Baster got in the mansion after the oldest brother. The foyer was as luxuriuous as she expected by the look of the façade. And not a thing in sight was actually useful. Just decoration. More decoration in one place than her entire village, although there was probably more space in that foyer than in all of the village houses combined. She was sure that the old lords' palace, had the forest elves not slaughtered everyone inside, would have looked like that.

After taking all I could find that wasn't to heavy for me to carry along, I stand up and race through the door, standing on Baster's side when I reach my two mates, in order to get a better view of the insides of the palace. The looks are stunning. These people really were wealthy as they boasted to be. That was a good sign. I only hoped that they were also true to their words. 

- So, what now? Shall we go further in? - I cannot see any enemies from my position but I'd rather go after them than wait for them to come here. 

Once you put foot on the marbled titled decorated floor that stands in the middle of the welcome hall of the Palace, something happens. At first is just a distant hiss, like the sound of the ocean from the top of a cliff. But then it becomes louder and louder until it explodes with a fwooo-like sound at the same time as a huge black endless pit opens magically in the middle of the room floor.

Fortunately, your reflexes were quick enough and you all were alert enough to avoid falling to the magic emptiness that roars now lonely in the middle of the floor while you three stand by the wall holding to frames, stands and chandeliers.

After what looks like an eternity, the floor closes upon itself again and the magic trap disappears as suddenly and mysteriously as it showed up.

From where you are now, you have several options to continue your sweep advance though the palace since, it seems, so far no more enemies have shown up to intercept you... which yes, it is by itself very suspicious and... worrisome.

But anyway, better focus in the task on hand: from this welcome hall you can go left or right to the Palace wings, front to an aisle that will lead to the center of the Palace or the upper floors.

Baster and the other two didn’t really have a lot of time to admire the grandness of the foyer.

Swinging goat nuts! shouted the young woman as she barely leapt aside and grabbed the doorknob when the floor disappeared under her feet.

She stared at the toothless, lipless maw in the middle of the ground. A seemingly bottomless pit that had come from nowhere. Actually nowhere, which probably meant magic. Goddamn magic, she cursed silently. Guards she could fight, weapon against weapon, and monsters she would be delighted to face even if she were to be overpowered. Magic, though, wasn’t fair game.

If it were just old men in ridiculous robes shooting fire from their hands. But alas, it couldn’t be so easy. At least, whoever conjured the trap was nice enough not to make it silent.

She wasn’t getting tired, but the door was expressing her discomfort at supporting her weight by creaking loudly when the pit vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

That wasn’t fun, she grumbled.

A minute passed. No more traps sprang and no guard came to try to repel de intruders. Either they were occupied with the others, which would mean the plan had gone awry, or they were getting ready to deal with them in a battlefield of their choosing.

I guess they’re setting more traps or an ambush, she observed. I say let’s go straight to the middle of the mansion and let them come get us.

- Magic...

I can feel the soreness in my arm, hanging there holding a chandellier to avoid falling in the dark hole that stands where the castle's floor had been before. Fortunatelly it doesn't take long to close again and soon we are able to stand on our feet. I hear Baster suggesting that we go straight to the middle of the mansion. 

- Right. Let's do that. But...I say we do not cross through the middle of this room.- We had managed not to fall in the dark hole but we couldn't be sure that it wouldn't open again. We didn't know what exactly had activated the magical device. - Let's just follow the walls to the other side.- I suggest and then I glance at Erard, suspicion in my eyes.

- You own this place. Are there any other traps, magical or not, that you forgot to mention?

The face and eyes of the oldest brother read equally terror and awe at the sight of the endless pit that roars not further than two feet away. A single cold drop of sweat runs wild through his forehead while his chest moves frenzy gasping for air. He almost fell to the nothingness, but a quick step back saved him from what it would be an eternal drop to the unknown.

Holding against the wall with one hand, it takes him some time to get his breath back.

Presently, then he just nods at the proposition of a frontal assault to the main floor advancing through the central corridor of the Palace.

Turning his head to Ilesys, addresses the last question.

- My family never set up traps or magic doings in this Palace other than the wards that protect the vaults and its contents... This pit was deployed by our family enemies... I would expect more and worst ahead... -

Then he straights up and starts walking cautiously towards the main corridor.

When you reach the end of the receiving hall, a door blocks the access to the corridor. Erard pushes the handle and the white-jade-wooden work moves slowly with a sinister grinding noise.

For a second, all of you remain vigilant, completely still.

Fortunately, nothing happens.

Behind the door, a large corridor shows up about four meters wide and ten meters long. At its end another door, this one looking heavier and... somehow very different from the one Erard just opened.

The walls at both sides of the corridor are illuminated by an eerie glow produced by torches encapsulated within thin jade crystal bowls that create a quite a phantasmagoric and beautiful effect at the same time.

But there is something else. Something seems to glow in a bright bluish flickering glimmer on the walls. Words. Something is written on the walls. It reads:

Pull with all your might, only a whistle you'll gain
but almost out of sight, someone may shrink in pain.

- What is this? - whispers Erard in a very low voice, afraid of speaking out should a word unleash an unknown magic set up in this corridor.

Having second thoughts? She asked as she looked to the oldest brother eyes. Having a pit suddenly appear under his feet had shaken him all the way to his guts and bones, at the very least.

When Ilesys asked about other traps, he couldn’t but be honest. The invaders had taken their own measures to make whoever wanted to follow their example have a tough time. That would probably explain the scarcity of guards outside.

So we’re blind, Baster said. The ground could go away again, or the walls could come together or whatever. Then let’s hope they tire of tricks, stop being so goddamn shy and come close to have a good time.

The trio went deeper into the palace. The door opened to a corridor quite wide yet not long. There weren’t any windows on the walls, but several jade candles were lit, giving the very air a weird tint.

Erard pointed to another thing on the wall apart from the candles. Someone had written a couple verses with bright painting.

I don’t know and I don’t care.

It looked like a riddle, but she wasn’t about to pay attention to it unless she had no more choice. It would be playing to the tune of whoever had put it there.

Let’s go on, she said. We’ll know if it matters one way or the other.

Hearing about Erard's family inocence is at the same time dissapointing and relieving. If the traps had been set up by him or a close person everything would have been easier. But it was not the case. So, all we can do is keep on walking towards the heart of the palace, hoping not to get caught by any instant-killing device. 

After walking down a long corridor, we get to a wall with an inscription on it. It looks like some kind of riddle, as Baster soon states. As soon as I set my eyes on it, my mind starts working, aiming for a solution. However, it is trickier that it seemed at the beginning. So I soon give up, after sharing the obvious with Baster and Erard. 

- I guess it means that opening this door will entail that someone will suffer a strong pain. The question is who? It can't possibly be one of our enemies. It couldn't also be the rest of the people in our group, could it? I mean...even if any of them had been captured, this riddle must have been here for longer. Therefore...does it really matter who gets hurt?- I ask.- It's not going to be us since it's supossed to happen out of sight.

I look at both of them expecting their answer before joining Baster's opinion.

- Yeah. I say we keep on going. 

Despite of the well imposed resolution you both show upon the unknown situation in this particular journey to the depths of the palace, there are impediments that cannot be so easily overcome just by the mere force of your relentless will:

As soon as you reach the door at the end of the corridor, you realize is closed. It seems the riddle is meant to be solve should you like to open it and continue in your footsteps.

Worst of all, when you turn around and look back at the door you came through from the entrance hall, you find out this one is now closed as well and an uneasy shiver in the air tells you it will open only under the same mechanism as this one: solving the f... fantastic riddle.

Somehow, the feeling of being trapped in the mind of a bunch of maniacs who like to play with mice in mazes crosses your mind a couple of times.

Almost out of sight, Baster corrected.

She tried the handle, but the door was securely locked. She didn’t know the least thing about lockpicking, a fancy skill, so she lifted her leg high and stomped on the panels, near the point where she guessed the lock was. She did again and again, yet the door didn’t budge.

Bollocks, she grumbled.

As she turned around, she noticed they were trapped. The door by which they have gotten into the hall was closed, and surely locked as well.

She loathed playing whatever game they had prepared for them, yet she realized she didn’t have any choice about it. Either sitting on her arse while the others tried to do something, or actively try to get out of there.

I wish whoever is responsible for this shit is still in the palace. Someone’s ass is gonna turn into a couple eggplants before the day is over.

She walked to the walls. There were actually not many things in the room. Just the doors, the writing and the strange torches. It was those that got her attention. She grabbed one of them, the closest one on the wall to her left, and tried to pull.

Any idea? She asked while she pulled.

I stare at the door, smiling wickedly when Baster tries all she can do to break it down. Of course it was not going to be that easy. I could have tried to manipulate the lock but to me it becomes quite obvious that solving the riddle is what we need to do. 

As Baster reaches for one of the torches at the side of the door, I reach for another one on the other side and look at the two of them.

- Shall we pull with all our might at a time. I don't care who will suffer a great pain if we do it, as long as the door open.- If the torches didn't work maybe we should just try pulling at the door. 

Baster snickered as she tried to pull at the torch.

A fine hero you'd make, she said to Ilesys.

it was weird any way she looked at it. Why would anyone care about the pain of another? Even their own pain, actually, if it was brief and didn't leave damage. Maybe it was not really about pain. And what about the whistle?

You pull the torches with all your might... and fell down to the ground bottom first with them at your hands after easily detaching them from their grip holder by the wall.

Erard can't prevent a quick dry laugh at the sight of you sitting there astonished by the predicted effect of what would happen.

Unfortunately, the doors remain closed tight.

The oldest brother cares his beard for a moment.

- Hmmm... perhaps we should analyze deeply what this bizarre riddle might be telling us. Let's see... - he bents over the wall closer to the glowing letters.

- Pull with all your might, only a whistle you'll gain - he whispers - what object we know that by pulling some part of it with all your might produces almost no sound? and... - he turns again to the words - but almost out of sight, someone may shrink in pain. - he stares at you - that by using it, it produces pain in a distant foe? -

I stand up, caressing my bottom. That hurt. I glance back at the old brother when he starts talking. He'de been quiet for a while and I was quite sures he was enjoying the show. Are you sure you've got nothing to do with these traps?, I think to myself saying no word. However, I brush my hair with my fingers as I try to make some sense out of the damned riddle. 

- That sounds to me like a gun.- I answer, saying the best that comes to my mind.- What are we supossed to do with that? Do any of youz happen to have one?- I doubt it. And then, I try the only thing that I think could work at that moment. I get closer to the wall, to be more accurate to the part of it which shows the riddle, and whisper.- "The answer is a gun. Would you open now?"

The big woman fell on her ass with a loud clonk. Between the plates and the padding, she didn’t feel a thing, but it was not dignified. Al least it’s not another bottomless pit.

The torch was in her hands and Ilesys was sprawled on her butt as well. The door was as closed as before. It was just a door, but Baster scowled at it for the more she looked, the more she felt like it was silently grinning at their displeasure. At the other side of the hall, the oldest brother was not just grinning, the bastard.

She was still sitting when the other woman answered Erard’s question.

A gun? Baster asked, raising her eyebrows. Dunno what it is, but I think it’s a grenado. My friends came upon a small stash of them, gnomish made Gorge said. A hard sack with a weird cork. When you pulled it off, a cord went on fire with a whistle and you had just a few seconds until it went off. I bet we could blow that door off if we had one of those. We used it... she stopped for a moment, sinced she was about to tell them how they had miscalculated, turning a carriage, four horses and five people into a collection of charred bones, burnt wood and a damn lot of smoke, we used it to clear the debris of a collapsed cave.

Erard nods silently, acknowledging the solution of the riddle as right. He then smiles slightly maliciously and reaches for something hidden deep within his belt bags.

Presently, he produces something quite similar to these throwing bombs you were describing. It resembles some sort of pottery work, tied up spherically with a cord. He gestures so you two get behind him. Then, using some lit tinder he gets from a small sac hanging from his belt, he ignites the cord.

The pottery bomb flies away to the door and... BOOM it explodes launching away clay fragments all around the corridor. As a magic trigger gets activated, the door slams open.

When the smoke generated by the explosion dissipates, the room behind the open door gets visible.

The new accessible place is the First Main Hall of the Palace.

Although is not truly or, better said, easily accessible. In contrast with the previous emptiness of the magically trapped reception hall and the riddle corridor, the First Main Hall is filled with enemies.... Here they stand. Here they were... waiting for you.

You count them quickly, 4 mercenary swordsmen, 5 spearmen, one archer and... 3 Orcs!

Something inside tells you right now that, somehow, this palace will harbor more and more surprises and enemies so long as you keep going forwards.

As the smoke faded, Baster could see the door. Not a scratch on its surface, just a big stain of soot where the explosion had licked it. It was fortunate that the door opened by itself anyway.

That was anticlimactic, but I’m taking that door with me on the way out. I want it made into an armor.

She was thinking how would they have gotten out if the oldest son hadn’t had such an uncommon artifact with him, when she set her sight upon the group waiting for them on the next room. A dozen in all, nine of them men, armed with swords and spears like the ones in the courtyard, and a trio of what she recognized as orcs.

This is great. She had battled the greenskins before, a few years ago, when she was still with the army. They were tougher than most men and fought with a gleeful abandon which terrified her squadmates. Not her, she enjoyed those skirmishes almost as much as the orcs. These ones, though, weren’t a raiding party, nor part of a warband; just mercenaries who worked side by side with humans. She couldn’t imagine the frenzied savages she knew would have been able to do that.

Tell that ugly god of yours Baster sent you, she snarled. He knows of me.

Ignoring the humans, Baster charged with with shield and shoulder on point, sword at the ready to hack and pierce green flesh. She hoped they at least shared the lust for battle of their northern cousins.

When I hear Baster's option I realize it makes a lot more sense than mine. The word  I had used refered to a kind of weapon that was not very common around here. I should have known. What actually surprises me is that Erard takes an exact copy of  the artefact Baster has mentioned out of his pocket and throws it straight to the door. 

It opens and, it could not have happened differently, our enemies are waiting for us there. This time, three ugly orcs. I bucker my nose in disgust, guided by my elvish part. And when I see Baster charge against them, I draw my swords and run towards the archer and spearmen, my hair waving at my back, as if it was on fire. And fire  is pretty much but runs through my veins at the idea of getting into a good fight.