The Port Town Chronicles

Lord Klaude gave Tedronai a gem. A gem of true teleportation, he called it — three uses, three locations, three pieces of some relic that will apparently end the siege on Port Town. Tedronai, in his infinite practicality, handed it directly to the party and sent us on our way with what I can only describe as "basic instructions." I have served stranger employers. I have followed worse orders. But I will note, for the record, that none of us asked what the relic actually does.

The teleportation dropped us somewhere that can only be described as a world that gave up. Hot but cheerless, the sky offering light without warmth, the ground bare and volcanic. No desert — something worse. Like the land had been burned once and never recovered the ambition to try again. In the distance: a pyramid. Black as obsidian, sharp as a broken blade, catching the dull light in ways that made it seem almost alive. We walked toward it because that is the sort of thing we do.

The door was enormous. Rancor and I put our shoulders into it and managed to haul it open. Inside: darkness, dust, and a smooth stone ramp descending into the earth. The walls were that same black crystal, catching what little light filtered in and throwing it back in strange angles. It had the quality of a place that had not been disturbed in a very long time and was not particularly pleased to see us.

First level. Four hooded figures arranged around a fire. Slip — our new addition, a contracted thief who has made it abundantly clear she is only here for the coin — crept ahead to investigate. She returned undetected and reported what she saw: robed shapes, a fire, no obvious weapons. We debated. Someone suggested we approach diplomatically. In the end, we decided to walk up and try talking.

The wizard — and I want to be precise here, because this matters — decided to attempt a greeting in what he believed might be Abyssal. He guessed. He guessed at a demonic language and spoke aloud in a crypt full of unknown hooded figures.

The figures turned. Their cloaks opened. They were winged, serpentine things — the lower bodies of snakes, great dark wings spreading as they drew blades wreathed in flame. They took to the air and came at us. The wizard, to his credit, did not look entirely surprised.

We killed them quickly. When they fell, they crumbled to ash, leaving nothing — no coin, no gear, nothing to reward our effort beyond survival. The others noticed the fire they had been tending. Each piece of kindling burned with a steady flame, but when picked up, the fire went out — and the wood beneath was not charred. Not scorched at all. They lit one again and confirmed it: the flame is real, the heat is real, but the wood simply does not burn. I noted the detail. I have learned not to ignore things that make no sense. They usually matter later.

The ramp down grew steeper. Juniper and Pyril have been sliding. This has become the defining feature of our descent — the two of them losing their footing on the smooth stone and colliding into Rancor or myself, who must brace and catch them before the whole party becomes a human avalanche. We are soldiers and adventurers, tested against demons and worse. We are also, apparently, a handrail.

Juniper made a remark that someday we should all simply step aside and let the next person in line slide all the way to the bottom unimpeded. I do not find this funny. Rancor does. The thought keeps him in good spirits, which I suppose has tactical value.

Second level brought a large figure seated on a bench with a trident across his knees. He rose when we approached and told us to leave — that he had been placed here to protect this shrine and that we had no business descending further. I told him we were searching for a relic. He told us to leave again. I declined.

His trident burned with purple flame. I found this more interesting than threatening, which may say something about the quality of my judgement. He was powerful — Pyril and the wizard both caught fire before Juniper cast quench flames to pull them back from the brink — but we brought him down. He left no loot either. Whatever this place is, it was not built for salvage.

The walls began to glow as we went deeper, giving off enough light that Slip noted sourly her shadows were gone. In the next chamber, she spotted figures drifting near the ceiling — only visible when they passed close to the crystal walls, revealed briefly by the light and then swallowed by darkness again. They moved wrong. Floating. Patient.

The party cast light on a stone and we entered together in a tight group, our little sphere of brightness keeping the figures at bay. They would drift toward us and then veer away, as if the light itself were a wall. Keyo was persuaded to step outside the group's light to see what would happen — armed with a light-infused stone and a rope tied at his waist in case things turned.

The figures rushed him. And then nothing. They pulled up short, drifted back, approached again, retreated. He untied the rope himself and two of them rushed him directly — still nothing happened. He walked back to the group with the expression of someone who has decided not to make a thing of it.

My theory: Keyo, being a monk, carries no visible weapon. They did not perceive him as a threat and therefore found no cause to act. I keep this to myself for now. There is no point in giving Rancor ideas.

The next chamber held a statue. Enormous — a figure seated on a throne, stone hands resting on stone knees, staring at nothing with the expression common to gods and very patient predators. I took one step toward it and a chip of stone broke from its shoulder. I stepped back. The chip fell. The statue did not move.

The wizard suggested we traverse the room without touching the floor. Juniper, bless her practical heart, cast airwalk on me. I floated across the chamber, reached the far ramp, and then went back for everyone else. Keyo. Rancor. The wizard. Pyril. Slip, who looked like she was reconsidering her contract. Juniper last. Trip by trip, back and forth, while the statue held its stillness and I held my breath. It never moved. We made it through.

The final room of the evening: scattered pillars reaching floor to ceiling, spread irregularly through a wide space. The wizard sent an unseen servant ahead to investigate. It vanished when it reached certain pillars — not passed behind them, not obscured. Gone. The wizard said he simply could not sense it anymore.

We crept along the right wall. Halfway through, several pillars shifted inward, narrowing our path. Slip tumbled out into the open center of the room and was hit hard by something invisible. She did not fall back in line. She held her ground — alone out there — watching. I moved past a pillar myself and took the same blow. Keyo struck a pillar with a spare staff to test contact; it bounced back as though he had hit metal. Whatever was striking us was not the pillar itself.

I called for the group to spread out and move simultaneously — if there was a single unseen force working the room, divide its attention. What happened next I can only account for partially. Keyo tumbled toward the left wall and vanished. I jumped after him using the ring and landed on the other side of a barrier I had not known was there — and found myself facing two large creatures who had been controlling the pillars like puppets. I attacked immediately. Rancor followed without hesitation. That is the best thing about Rancor. He never needs a reason explained twice.

What happened on the far side of the barrier I did not see. What I was told afterward: Pyril was hemmed in by the pillars and went down stunned. Slip — who I am beginning to revise my assessment of — lassoed her and dragged her clear, taking several blows in the process. The wizard wrapped himself in mirror images and fought his way to the doorway ahead. Juniper broke free and came through the barrier, landing at speed directly into my back at a moment that did not improve my footing.

The creatures fell. They crumbled to dust, same as everything else in this place. The pillars went still.

We stopped there. It was late, we were battered, and the next room waited with whatever it holds. The relic piece is still ahead. Port Town still needs saving. The gem has two uses remaining.

I have the eternal kindling in my mind if not my pack. My back still aches where Juniper landed on it. The pyramid is not finished with us.

Tomorrow, we go deeper.