13 - The Lich and the Mimic

It was a damned lich! A super-powered undead magic user. And judging from the array of wealth and items, the huge room, the massive crown, and the spellbooks, he was probably crazy strong, more than enough to murder my idiotic ass. What the hell had I been thinking? This was D&D 101: cursed treasure, mimics, and liches. I’d walked right into the situation like a fool, blinded by the treasure like some dopey character in a novel. I mentally face-palmed, but only briefly.

The lich’s eyes burned into me with eldritch light, promising years of nightmares to come. I could feel the power radiating off the undead monster, overwhelming me and turning my legs to jelly. It roared, “Thief!”

The mimic let out a very ominous and creepy giggle.

No way I could fight a lich. I just reacted without thinking. Shouting frightened nonsense like a madman, I charged, leaped over the mimic’s tongue like I was doing hurdles in gym class, lowered my shoulder, and body-checked that pile of bones.

The lich, who weighed a fraction of what I did because it lacked muscle and flesh, went flying — right off the side of the island. It emitted a surprised yelp as it flew backward through the air for a long second, then plunged down into the lava. It landed with a wet plop and an outraged shriek so loud it made both me and the mimic cringe. The lich screamed, “You ignorant wretch! I’ll—” It never finished the threat because, and I’m guessing here, the powerful magic anklet that was under the lava exploded. A bubble of viscous red lava rose, and some splashed the island. The lich cried out. Its eyes burned brighter than ever.

I stared at the creature in surprise. Visions of Terminators came to mind.

The lich reached toward me. A fat ruby ring on one bony finger began to glow with devilish red light.

I ducked.

A cone of rainbow light shot over my head and clipped the mimic.

The mimic gurgled in pain and retracted its tongue. A section of its body became strange, its colours inverting and then turning to shades of gray, then cycling back to colour. It was as if the multi-colored blast had warped its very reality.

Another explosion came from the lava, then another, the lich losing his other leg, then an arm. The body was sinking fast. “No! No! This can’t be happening to me! I’ll murder you and your entire nation, you—” And then he was submerged, his skull slipping under the red surface.

Guess I wasn’t going to get my hands on those nice robes now. I also recalled the heavy necklace and crown the lich had been wearing. And the jewels, all of which were probably magical. “Oh, crap.” Tossing the spear ahead of me, I dove away from the edge of the island and into the middle and threw my arms over my head.

A series of gargantuan explosions came so fast they were like one long fireworks finale. I went nearly deaf. The entire chamber shook as if there were an earthquake. Lava splashed and splattered in all directions. Some hit the mimic, and it squealed as part of it melted and burned. As if that weren’t bad enough, the explosion seemed to weaken whatever structural integrity was left in the place. The shaking continued. Hunks of wall and ceiling fell, splashing into lava.

I could barely get to my hands and knees as the island I was on trembled and began rapidly falling apart as it sank into the lava. I vaguely noticed my ring flashing, but my ears rang and I felt dizzy, like someone had been punching my brain, so I didn’t pay any attention. Shelves and bookcases toppled. A pile of books was in flames with lava running all over it. Priceless treasures were toppling into the lava. With a crack, the floor split and the throne fell backward, vanishing with a wet splash. It quickly sank out of view.

The whole place was coming down. I had to get out of there. I tried to rise and run, but the island suddenly tilted, and I fell sideways, crashing into a shelving unit. Something metal bounced off my head, then fell into my lap. It was just some old, cheap golden lamp with some dings and scratches on it. I whipped around and reached out, desperately trying to grab some of the treasure on the shelving, but the entire thing was already falling over, and though I scrabbled and did my best to snatch something, anything, it all fell away, and the effort nearly caused me to do the same.

Catching myself before I fell to my death, I could see that this was the end of everything here. But I didn’t want to flee empty-handed. I got to my feet and leaped toward a bookshelf, hoping to snag a spellbook or two, but the mimic, flailing about in pain, hit the bookcase with its thick tongue, and it fell away, taking a hundred volumes of precious spells and knowledge with it into the lava.

I cried out in almost physical pain at the loss of all that knowledge, “No!” Staggering backward as the ground fell away in front of me, I stepped on the lamp, slipped, and fell. Cursing the junk, I almost kicked it away before I saw a pile of leather satchels and got distracted. I scrambled over and grabbed one. Snatching a handful of scattered jewelry from the floor, I stuffed it into the satchel. It took up no space.

“Whoa. Magic bag?” For a brief second, I was elated. But the room was still coming down around me. I grabbed a pile of loose scrolls, a large yellow potion in a fancy glass beaker, an insanely beautiful sword whose blade was shaped like a dragon, a small round shield with runes around the edges, and a bunch of other stuff, shoving it all into the bottomless satchel. I would have gone for more, but the mimic, bouncing around in madness and pain, nearly knocked me off the swiftly vanishing island when its tongue slapped me in the face like a slimy wet fish.

I reeled backward, stepped on the fucking lamp yet again and the satchel full of treasures went flying. I cried out and tried to grab it, but it landed in the lava. “No! Gah!!” Furious at the loss, I picked up the lamp and drew my arm back to hurl the damn thing away. Before I could, part of the roof, a chunk of rock bigger than I could lift, fell straight down and landed right between my spread legs.

I blinked at it. I looked down. It had come so close to crushing a certain, highly valued part of my anatomy that that part tingled. Breathing hard, I realized much too late that my greed was going to be the death of me. I extricated myself from the rock, rolling it off my robes, then ducked the mimic’s tongue, which was still waving in random directions. Snatching up my spear, I ran for the edge of the island.

The satchel I’d lost exploded, sending a column of burning lava straight up in the air.

My stomach clenched. The next island was already sinking out of sight.

There was no time to think. I sped up and jumped as high and far as I could, using all my new strength and speed. I sailed high into the air like an NBA mascot bouncing off a trampoline to make a dunk. Lava bubbled and burned under me. I could feel the heat burning my legs.

More explosions erupted behind me as more magical objects ruptured and released all their stored energy. All that priceless treasure, probably gathered over lifetimes, and who knew how many lives sacrificed over it, and it was all being destroyed. What an epic waste!

Then I was down and running on the next little island. But only for a couple of steps before I had to jump again. I flew. But this time, I wasn’t going to get as far as I needed. My feet hit the very edge of the little island, only the size of a bathtub. I lunged with the spear, and to my relief, the counter weight was just enough to keep me from falling on my ass in the lava. I let myself fall forward onto the island.

Swallowing hard at yet another brush with death, I got up and hurriedly leaped to the next island, and the next. There was a big gap between the final island and the side of the room, and I didn’t have space to make a running jump. But with the spear, I was actually able to pole vault the distance. It was insane! I’d never done that before in my life. Only my stats made it possible.

I’d made it all the way to the shore again. I was safe. But with the place still coming down, I couldn’t pause. I dashed into the fissure in the wall, then screamed as a splash of lava hit the fissure entrance and a couple of drops hit my back and legs; the pain was excruciating. I didn’t stop. I ran, heedless of the burns, my feet getting cut up on the broken rock at the bottom of the fissure. I tripped and fell on my front, banging a knee badly and cutting the arm not holding the spear. I grunted, “Ow!” A glance over my shoulder, and I saw that the lava level had risen in the room. It was coming into the fissure! I hauled myself up and ran on.

I reached the stalagmite guarding the other end of the fissure. Unable to climb with the spear in hand, I threw it through the opening into the chamber beyond. Then I awkwardly climbed up, which took three tries because the wet rock was so slippery, and then I was up and into the scorpion chamber.

I sank to the floor, breathing so hard it hurt. [Passive: Second Wind] kicked in, and I felt some of my energy come back. The pain lessened. I took a few moments to just breathe and come down from the sheer panic of the last few minutes. With the stalagmite blocking the fissure, I was probably safe from the lava. For now.

That’s when I noticed how agitated the scorpions in the room were. All of them.

All over the closest stalagmites, the baby ones near me had the zoomies. The explosions and collapsing chamber must have sent them into a tizzy. Groaning and getting to my feet, I noticed a rhythmic banging that wasn’t coming from the treasure chamber. I nervously ventured forward, keeping my distance from the riled-up babies, and peered around a stalagmite to where the hybrids would be.

The giant was pulling back and forth on each arm, slamming the chain to its limits each time. He didn’t seem to be making any further progress, and his face showed only rage. The elven one darted around like a panicked insect as the pit of babies roiled, spilling into the rest of the chamber.

I moaned, “Oh, for the love of—” I was far from safe. I groaned like an old man as I bent and retrieved my spear. As I straightened, I noticed with some surprise that I still held that junk lamp in my other hand. “What the hell?” I went to discard it, but stopped at the last second. It was the only thing I’d managed to retrieve from the secret treasure room. On the one hand, I was pissed at myself for losing it all. On the other, a defiant part of me wanted to hold onto the lamp so I wasn’t walking away entirely empty-handed. Hating myself for being a failure, I angrily muttered, “If I survive this, I’ll use it to remind myself to do better. Or smack myself in the face with it whenever I screw up.”

I untied the sash around my waist, looped it through the lamp’s handle, and let the thing dangle so I’d have my hands free for the spear. Something told me I might be fighting my way out of this.

I looked at the baby scorpions zipping around all over the place. I just knew the tunnel out of here was going to be the same, but with giant-ass scorpions the size of cars. I heaved a heavy sigh. “This is gonna suck…”

For a long minute, I just stood there. I was down on myself for wasting a huge opportunity. I had no confidence that I could make it back to the surface. I’d have to make it across the cavern without a horde of baby scorpions tearing me apart. And without their weird momma annihilating me with laser magic. There were probably a dozen scorpions the size of the papa I’d fought in the tunnel. It was hopeless. I felt like giving up without even trying. Or maybe I could hide in a corner somewhere and hope things calmed down before I was discovered.

Of course, the moment I had that thought, you know what happened? I mean, it was like someone upstairs was watching me and knew exactly when to kick me in the metaphorical nuts. It was just one piece of bad luck after another, like I’d annoyed an entire pantheon of deities and they all wanted to torture me.

The elven hybrid looked up toward the fissure, probably sensing that’s where the disturbance was coming from. Guess who was standing right outside the fissure, up to his eyeballs in self-pity? She stared for a few moments, then frowned and tilted her head like she wasn’t sure of what she was looking at. Then she raised both hands with her fingers pointed at me.