Keith Strohm - The Tomb of Horrors

Worse still, the whole area was set up like the temples she was familiar with in Rel Mord. Wooden pews filled the east and west portions of this room, while the whole layout drew the observer’s eye to the imposing stonealtar in the center of the south wall. Beyond the angry colored stone, the bard could see a tiered dais. Resting on top of the dais was a simple wooden chair-the ceremonial seat of the presiding cleric. Two large brass candelabrastood to either side of the dais, and Majandra could almost see the smoky flame coming from the five unlit white candles that sprouted from the candelabra like skeletal hands. She shuddered at this image, for every detail of the room spoke not only of evil, but also of goodness corrupted. Even the holy symbols on the walls, many representing the good gods and goddesses of the land, were not exact images. Each had some slight imperfection, and many were twisted to demonstrate the reverse of its intended meaning.

Worried, she scanned the room for signs of Phathas. She caught sight of the old mage leaning his bent back against the wood of the pew closest to the tunnel from which they had entered the tomb. She also saw the three remaining guards carefully searching the skeletal figure that lay upon the floor to the west of the altar, its outstretched hand pointing toward the mist covered expanse of another archway. Landra, the guards’ captain, conferredquietly with Kaerion, who had settled himself carefully near the edge of one of the pews.

“Well,” one of the guards said, “it looks like our next stepis clear. This archway is our only way out.”

“It would seem that way,” Phathas said, turning from hisexamination of the wooden pews, “but I would be very careful following throughon such an assumption.”

The old mage’s voice quavered across the chapel’s distance.Majandra thought that he sounded tired-more tired than she had ever heard him. Awave of sadness washed over her. She knew that as deeply as she grieved for those who had died, their loss would have cut the mage deeper-especially theloss of Vaxor. The two men had been close friends for decades, and now it looked as if the weight of those deaths bore down upon the mage with an implacable force. Majandra could see just how much the wizened mage leaned upon his staff as he made his way toward the center of the chapel.

“I agree,” the bard found herself saying. “The skeletonpointing toward that archway seems too obvious a clue. I say we split up and give the room another search. But be careful not to touch anything.”

Choosing the area behind the wicked altar, Majandra lost herself in the close examination of the stone wall. She had begun to lose track of time when a shout went up from the opposite area of the chapel. Turning, she saw one of the guards pointing to a small section of the wall, several feet in front of a large, stoppered urn. She made her way toward the guard but waited for the others to arrive before giving the indicated area a close examination.

Before her, about four feet off the ground, Majandra could see a small slot in the stone. Above the slot, the letter O was etched faintly into the gray wall. While the others congratulated the sharp-eyed guard, Majandra tugged at her lower lip, deep in thought. Something about this slot triggered her bardic memory, and she chased that elusive trigger through the twists and turns of her “inner library.” Around her, she could hear the groupdebating their next course of action. Voices rose and faded, points of view were exchanged, but she heard it all from a great distance.

At last, she honed in on the memory-and nearly shouted in herexcitement. “I’ve got it,” she said with such conviction that it stopped allconversation.

“Got what, little sister?” Gerwyth asked in a wry tone.

“I have the answer,” she responded. When she saw the blankfaces staring at her, she intoned, “‘If shades of red stand for blood the wise;will not need sacrifice ought but a loop of magical metal-you’re well along yourway!’”

“Don’t you see?” she continued. “It’s in the poem. Thatcircle is in the shape of a ring-a ‘loop’ of metal. All we need to do is place amagical ring on to that circle and something will happen.”

“Yeah,” one of the guards asked, “but do you know exactlywhat will happen?”

“Well, not exactly,” Majandra admitted. “But the poem hasguided us correctly so far. I say we risk it.”

The group conferred for a few moments before unanimously opting to follow her hunch. Grateful for their trust, she rummaged through her pouches, but found nothing. She turned to the assembled group. “I gave the ringwe found in the room with the three chests to Adrys,” she said. A knot formed inher throat as she said these words. Kaerion had tried to warn her, but she had ignored him, and now Vaxor was dead-quite possibly because of her unwillingnessto listen.

Thankfully, Kaerion laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder. “Noone’s blaming you,” he said softly. “We just need a ring so that we can get outof here.”

“And I have just the thing,” Gerwyth said, breaking thetension. They turned to find the elf holding a small silver band in the palm of his hand.

“I don’t know what it’s called, but it helps keep mecomfortable in temperature extremes,” the elf said. “I think it will do nicely.”

“Thank you,” Majandra replied, unsure why Kaerion glaredopen-mouthed at his friend.

“Why, you goblin-eared excuse for an elf!” Kaerion shouted.“After all these years… that’s how you’ve done it. I thought yourunflinching endurance in the face of the direst of elements was an elven trait and the sign of a courageous spirit, and all this time you were magically protected. Why I should-”

“Don’t bother finishing that thought,” Gerwyth interruptedwith a devilish smile upon his face. “You might overtax that lump of clay youcall a brain. Besides,” he finished with an injured look, “every elf worthy ofthe name has a few secrets.”

“Enough, both of you,” Phathas scolded-though the bard couldsee a smile splitting the mage’s weathered face. “Let Majandra concentrate.”

Letting her own lightened mood shine through, she bent toward the slot and gingerly placed the metal ring against the etched O. She heard a click and then, seconds later, a deep rumble filled the room. Two of the guards jumped back, eyes searching for signs of danger. But the rest of the group simply waited.

Majandra’s patience was rewarded as a large section of theeastern wall sank slowly into the ground, revealing a dark passage.

“After you,” she said with a pleased smirk upon her face.

She followed Kaerion into the darkness.

Kaerion yawned as he adjusted his chainmail shirt. Four hours of sleep before his turn at watch was too little, considering the events of the past day. It was difficult to believe that so many people had died inside this horror-filled tomb in a single day. He could see each of their faces, remember the laughter and companionship they had shared during their journey to the swamp. All of that had ended abruptly at the tip of a spear, the edge of a pit, or the claw of some fearsome beast.

None of the faces haunted him as much as Vaxor’s-a quiet andpeaceful expression at odds with the brutal way the cleric had died. Kaerion had slept fitfully on the hard ground of the tomb soon after Phathas called the first true rest during their exploration. He had watched idly as the other guards set up the perimeter of their makeshift camp, but the rigors of the day had soon overcome him. Muscles sore and joints aching, he had curled up against a wall and was asleep before his head had fully rested on his bedroll.

Cool darkness enveloped him. Like a potent balm, the cradled nothingness of sleep eased his burdens. There was no grief, no pain-simply thevast darkness of sleep. Then the first image exploded in his brain. Images of a gray stone claw rending vulnerable flesh plagued his dreams. He heard Vaxor scream as the gargoyle’s claws shredded the tender flesh of his abdomen; thecleric’s skin parted like vellum beneath the cutting knife of a scribe, entrailsand gore spilling out onto the floor. Kaerion had woken with such violence that the two guards standing watch rushed over to see what had occurred.