Entry II: The Descent Continues

We rested briefly at the threshold of the next level, which in hindsight was the last sensible thing we did for some time. What followed was a series of rooms that tested us in ways I had not anticipated — not because the enemies were beyond our capability, but because I was not performing at mine. I will account for this honestly since dishonest records serve nobody, least of all Tedronai.

I should note that during the rest, the Wizard was gone and Diana was in his place. A note had arrived — brief, unsigned, though I recognized the hand — and that was the full extent of the explanation offered. I have worked for Tedronai long enough to know that asking questions about his arrangements is rarely worth the effort. What I will say is that Diana arrived fresh while the rest of us were already carrying the weight of the previous rooms, and I suspect that accounts for much of what followed. A well-rested ranger with a point to prove is a formidable thing.

The ramp down was, by this point in the expedition, a known quantity. Slip hit it wrong and slid into the next room ahead of the rest of us. Nobody moved to catch her. We have been in this pyramid long enough to recognize inevitability when we see it.

What none of us had anticipated was the voice. Deep. Loud. A single word: Intruder. The kind of word that does not require a second.

We went down the ramp quickly. We entered the room to find a massive demon already mid-swing at Slip, who tumbled clear of the blade with an agility I will give her full credit for — she had just slid down a ramp face-first and she still moved faster than that sword. Diana, who had arrived without fanfare and apparently with something to prove, put two arrows into the demon before it could recover. The damage was significant and immediate. Whatever Diana had been saving, she spent it here.

The demon was not interested in the rest of us. It had decided Slip was the problem and it pursued her with single-minded focus, landing a blow that looked serious. The party responded. Diana continued her assault without pause. The killing blow, when it came, was hers. I will not pretend I contributed meaningfully to this fight. I did not. I noted the fact and moved on.

The next room was a puzzle. Slip scouted it first and came back with a description: six pedestals, each bearing a small statue carved with a symbol — Leaf, Star, Moon, Water, Sun, Cloud. Four slots in the center. A miasma barrier at the far end. And behind that barrier, two glowing eyes pacing back and forth, watching her the moment she looked in.

On the floor was carved the following: The growth with absence is visible with light.

The party agreed broadly that this had something to do with plants. Beyond that, agreement was harder to reach. It was Slip who first raised something the rest of us had not thought to question — that the order of insertion likely mattered as much as the choice of statues. She was right, as it turned out, though we arrived at this conclusion the hard way.

I am not a man of gardens or growing things. I decided the group would benefit more from a decision than from my opinion on horticulture, so I picked up the Leaf statue, held it up, and asked if anyone objected. Nobody did. I inserted it. The slot turned green.

I took this as a positive sign. I picked up Moon. The party agreed. I inserted it. The slot turned red.

From somewhere to our right, four apparitions poured into the room.

They were similar to creatures we had encountered on an earlier level — insubstantial, fast, and fixated. The fight that followed was difficult in ways that took us a moment to understand. Rancor was connecting — I could see it — but doing nothing. Keyo opened with a roundhouse kick of genuine force that appeared to pass through the apparition entirely. I thought it was a trick of the light. After several more attacks with the same result, it was not a trick of the light. Normal weapons were useless against these things.

Diana, again, was not useless. Her arrows found purchase where our blades could not. Juniper, with her quarterstaff, was an unexpected revelation — she felled two of them, which I watched with some surprise and considerable respect. Tedronai would not be surprised. He is better with a staff than most people assume, and apparently he and Juniper share something in this regard. Keyo, recognizing the problem, stopped attacking and started tumbling, keeping himself clear while angling toward Diana for a weapon that might actually work. He was good enough to shout the same advice to Rancor. We won. We used potions. We sat down.

Water worked. The slot turned green. I held up Sun. No objections. The slot turned red. The apparitions came back from precisely where they had died, which was a detail I found philosophically troubling and practically inconvenient.

Keyo attempted to pull the Sun statue out mid-fight. It did not help. Rancor switched weapons and started connecting. I killed one, which was an improvement over the previous round. We used more potions.

Cloud worked. I held up Star. Nobody raised a concern. The slot turned red. The apparitions returned. I killed another one. Juniper killed one. We used the last of what we were comfortable using and sat down again in a room that had now hosted three versions of the same fight and was beginning to feel like a personal insult.

Slip had been right that the order mattered. What we had not worked out was which order. It was Juniper who completed the reasoning. She pointed out, with the quiet certainty of someone who actually knows things about plants, that certain growth happens at night — in the absence of light, under the moon — and becomes visible only when sunlight falls on it. The sequence had to end with Sun. The growth with absence is visible with light. She had the answer while the rest of us were still recovering from being wrong twice.

Slip suggested we be ready for whatever was behind the barrier when it dropped. We formed up. I put Sun in the last slot. It turned green. The barrier came down.

Nothing was there.

Several very uncomfortable seconds passed.

Then something hit me in the neck from behind and drew blood. I turned fast enough to see a demon — enormous, grinning — step back into nothing and disappear. It had been behind us the entire time.

Rancor and I went back to back. It was not enough. He was hit next. Then Juniper. Each time we turned, the demon was already gone. It was playing with us, which I found more aggravating than the hits themselves.

Diana caught it with an arrow and was immediately teleported fifteen feet backward. The sword, apparently, does not enjoy being struck by its wielder's opponents. Pyril read the room correctly and began blessing us — I felt it take hold and felt with it something settle back into place in my fighting. Whatever had been off since the beginning of this expedition began to correct itself. I landed real shots. The kind that count.

Pyril followed the blessing with insects. At first I did not understand the choice. Then I began to notice that the demon was missing — that my attacks were landing where previously they had been turned aside. The insects were more than annoying. They were in his eyes and his ears and under his guard, and they were making him sloppy. I will not underestimate a swarm of Pyril's insects again.

Diana landed a blow and the demon spoke for the first time. I will not give up. Then he was gone. His staff fell to the floor with a sound like a closing argument.

I looked at the staff and did not like what I saw. Not because it appeared dangerous — though it did — but because something about it felt incomplete. Like one component of a larger object. I looked at it for a long moment and came to the conclusion that we had found what we were sent here to find.

I suggested Pyril carry it. She is the holiest person in the group and therefore the most appropriate custodian for a demon's weapon. She took it without complaint.

The room also contained a large chest with no keyhole, and a door set into the floor. Slip examined both with the focused attention she brings to anything that might contain valuables, picked the floor door's lock, and opened it to reveal a cache of gold coins that none of us had been expecting. Keyo took his cloak off and began shoveling. This was practical and also immediately became the defining image of the evening.

At the bottom of the pit, once the gold was out, Keyo found a small stone that looked like a pressure plate. He pressed it. The chest opened. Inside: a collection of wizard scrolls, a trident of evident quality, a fine set of plate mail, and several other items we have not yet fully assessed. We distributed what we could carry and agreed to call the night there.

I should note that the ramp down to the throne room had taken four of us off our feet. I was among them. In plate mail. With three others. The sound we made sliding into the room was considerable. The demon on the throne above us looked down, and smiled, and said nothing. I think about that smile now and then.

We have the relic piece. The gem has two uses remaining. There are two more locations.

Port Town is still under siege.

We move on.