The Dungeon of the Duskknife Part 2

It took nearly three hours until we reached the next proper floor. All of us were sweating by the time we got there. My calves and knees were screaming in pain.

This floor was finely decorated with beautiful tapestries depicting a powerful wizard accomplishing all manner of incredible feats. Decorative sconces filled with green flame cast light across the room, revealing hidden alcoves in the walls. The ground was tiled in a checkerboard pattern of red and white tiles.

“Hold on,” Said Lynessa, “This is most certainly trapped. Likely a puzzle.”

“Probably so that wizard can flex his massive ego.” Atlas muttered.

“You aren’t wrong.” I said, examining the room. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it myself, though I was confident that Lynessa could figure it out. I sat down on the second step from the top and began massaging my legs.

“I think I’ve got it.” Imalor said, squinting at the tapestries. “It’s a room.”

“Astounding.” Said Atlas, “I’m so glad we brought along the short buffoon.”

“I think it has something to do with the order of the events in the tapestries.” Said Lynessa, “They don’t appear to be in order chronologically. If we take the position of the tapestry in its current position, and then use the position of where it's meant to be, I think we might be able to derive coordinates of safe tiles.”

“I think she’s making this up.” Said Atlas. “I don’t know how you get that from a tiled floor and a couple of drapes.”

“Yeah, that does sound pretty convoluted.” I said.

“I’m like ninety percent sure we’re just supposed to avoid stepping on the red tiles.” Atlas said, peering down at the floor intently. “That, or we’re supposed to avoid stepping on the white tiles.”

“So, fifty-fifty we get it wrong? I could live with those odds.” I considered. But was it white or red? Red was the obvious color of danger, but the wizard might know that we would know that, which would make white the color of danger. Or, the thought hit me, he might know that we would know that he would know that red usually signified danger and would try to fool us by making the white tiles dangerous, so he would make the red tiles dangerous because we knew that he knew that we knew that they wouldn’t be. That made sense, I thought.

I stepped onto a red tile. It sunk into the ground with a click.

“Oh,” Imalor gasped in realization, “The red tiles signify danger.”

Stone ground against stone as the rear wall of each alcove opened, revealing suits of armor. I waited a for a long moment. Nothing happened.

“How long has this dungeon been lost to time for?” I asked.

“Two hundred years.” Imalor said.

“So if he had, like, guards or something, they’d all be dead now.” I said.

Imalor nodded. “Seems that way.”

“You got really lucky with that.” Lynessa said, “We could have died by you setting off that trap!”

“I thought I was in this guy’s head!” I replied, “I could see his thought process clear as day!”

A rattling sound filled the room. The suits of armor had begun to shake. They rose from their posts, pulling free swords from their sheaths. Imalor readied his spear while Atlas dropped into a crouch. Lynessa raised a hand, her fingers starting to glow. I sighed. I really needed to find a weapon.

The suits of armor charged. Imalor thrust his spear through the breastplate of one. The armor creaked in response, but kept coming. Atlas smashed into it, taking it to the ground. The armor burst apart, its pieces scattering everywhere.

Lynessa blasted another suit with fire, slowly melting it into a puddle on the floor. Atlas had already taken down another, while Imalor fought two at the same time. He dodged a swing from the first’s sword, sending it clanging against the second. He deftly dodged a blow from the second and shoved it into the first, sending both clattering to the ground.

I squared up with a lone suit of armor and took a deep breath. Okay, second chance at this. This would be the time those hidden magic powers would kick in. I punched it in the chest. A hollow clung resounded through the air. The skin on my knuckles had broken, hell, I wasn’t even sure if my knuckles hadn’t broken. My fist was in serious pain. The worst part was, I wasn’t even surprised.

“Stop trying to punch it!” Atlas snapped, “They’re made of metal!” He tackled the suit of armor, scattering it.

“I’m trying to be useful!” I responded.

“Well, you’re just getting in the way.” He said, “Now go sit over there before you get me hurt.”

I sighed and grabbed the animated armor’s fallen sword before walking back to the corner. The others quickly mopped up the last of the suits of armor. It was beginning to occur to me that while they were incredibly powerful heroes in their own rights, I was still nothing without my truck.

We continued across the room and through a narrow doorway.

Atlas groaned. “More stairs.”

“Hey, you knew that we would be climbing up a mountain from the inside.” I reminded him.

“I didn’t have a choice!” He complained, “If you get hurt, I get hurt, and you have zero survival skills. I couldn’t just let you get us both killed!”

We made the second flight in more time. It was shorter, and switched back on itself multiple times, ending at an iron door. Engravings of skulls were carved into it. The handle itself appeared to have once been a human spine, now bronzed and stuck into the door as a handle.

“What is with evil overlords and their obsession with spines?” I asked. Lynessa shuddered. “Sorry.” I said, remembering Arthur’s demise.

“It’m fine.” She said. Her face had turned a shade of green.

“Any traps?” I asked.

“To hell with traps.” Atlas muttered, pressing against the door with his front paws. It creaked open loudly. Atlas poked his head in.

“It’s empty.” He reported.

“What do you mean, it’s empty?” I asked.

Atlas pulled his head out of the doorway. “I mean it’s empty. It’s a big, empty, circular room.”

“Let me see.” I said. Atlas backed out of the doorway. I cautiously approached, pausing for a second beside the frame. A strange apprehension twisted in my gut.

“What are you waiting for?” Atlas asked.

“I think I just heard a click.” I said.

A loud roar filled the air. Something went streaking out of the room, impacting the ceiling of the staircase and exploding with a deafening blast. Bits of crumbled rock were tossed everywhere. A piece of jagged metal lodged itself in the wall mere inches from my head.

“What in the heavens was that?” Imalor shouted, eyes wide.

I pressed myself against the wall, trying to get as far away from the opening as possible.

“I think,” I shouted back, “That was an RPG.”