“Well, that was some good thinking,” Tawmis said looking behind him, the loud humming nearly deafening. It was suddenly silenced by clicking, then crackling. Tawmis peered around the corner again. “Okay, so what were those things?”
“Down here they’re called Shrakk Torr,” Coy explained. “They’re essentially flies that had mutated by the magic and become aggressive, and oversized.”
Tawmis looked around the corner again and watched as several Shrakk Torr struggled against the enormous webs that the giant spiders had weaved. He looked back at Coy, “It’s a good thing you knew about those giant spiders so that we could essentially lead them right into their webs.”
“Like I said,” Coy replied, his whiskers twitching, “I have been down here a long time. Many prisoners have fallen to those spiders. I survived by scavenging off the dead, using their weapons, gathering their food. The spiders in that room have been very beneficial to my survival.”
Coy heaved a deep breath and urged them on, “Come, we’re getting close.”
Silvertan trotted behind, keeping pace with Tawmis. “Have I mentioned,” Silvertan slithered the words from his reptilian lips, “that I don’t trust this Coy? He seems to know entirely too much about this dungeon. He survived down here for 20 years? Alone? Something’s strange with that one.”
Tawmis nodded, “I agree, something is strange. But we’re alive, and further than we would have probably ever got on our own. I trust him.”
Coy led them down another flight of stairs and into a large room, where there was one door caged. Magical writing was scribbling along the wall. Tawmis looked, “What does that say?”
“Thieves beware,” Coy replied. Silvertan looked at Tawmis, as if to silently question how the Ratling had been able to read the magic writing. As if to answer Silvertan’s unspoken words, Coy continued, “This is not my first time here. I was thrown down here with others. We got this far. We went inside this room and there’s a magical sword in there. One of the prisoners I was with tried to take it – it… did not end well.”
Coy pulled on the gate, and the metallic gate creaked open. Inside, as Coy had said was a blade that was humming with energy. “I would not recommend just trying to take the blade,” Coy warned. “Bad things happen.”
Tawmis stared at it for a moment. “The sign said thieves beware,” Tawmis pondered out loud. “But that blade is here for a reason.”
“To lure us to our doom,” Silvertan muttered.
Tawmis rolled his eyes at Silvertan. “No, like everything else in this crazy dungeon – it’s a puzzle. We just need to figure it out.”
“They key has to be in the warning,” Tawmis said. “And you’re sure you read that right? The magic writing?”
“I wasn’t the one that originally translated it,” Coy assured Tawmis. “One of the prisoners thrown down here was a mage, much like your friend. He had translated it.”
“So how do we take it, without taking it,” Tawmis wondered.
“What if we put something of equal weight upon the altar?” Taren asked. “That way, the altar never believes anything is taken.”
Tawmis was about to protest how silly of an idea that had been when he paused, gave it more consideration and finally said, “Taren, my friend, I believe you may have solved this riddle.”
Tawmis pulled out his sword and placed it just inches above the glowing sword, while using his other hand to wrap it around the magical blade, without lifting it off the altar. Tawmis took a deep breath and was about to do the swap, when he paused and looked at Coy, who was standing near the entrance, as if ready to bolt. “What happens if this goes wrong?” Tawmis asked.
“It’s just better that you don’t know,” Coy seemed to smile.
“That’s absolutely comforting,” Tawmis muttered. Tawmis took three deep breaths then swapped the blades. He kept his eyes closed for several seconds, waiting for death to come in some terrifying manner. After a few moments he opened one eye, then the other, and saw everyone standing around, also frozen in fear. Everyone was glancing around waiting for something to happen.
“You did it,” Coy finally said. “You really did it.”
Those words were exactly what Tawmis had needed to hear. He heaved a deep breath and collapsed to his knees, his entire body tingling with energy as the sword seemed to come alive in his hands. Tawmis stared at the blade, “There’s so much power in this sword.”
“From the mage that had perished in this room, he called it the Dismantler – a claymore supposedly forged deep in the underground magma furnaces. It is said to be the weapon that brought the Undying One to his knees, and that’s how they had captured him several thousand years ago.”
Coy peeked outside the room then turned to the others, “Now we’re ready to face the Undying One.”
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Tawmis Sanarius – Human (Son of Contar Stoneskull and Yennica Whitefeather) - Warrior
Taren Bloodhorn – Minotaur - Warrior
Blaz’tik – Insectoid - Mage
Silvertan – Lizardman - Rogue
Coy – Ratling from the Isle of Nex – Rogue
