Greed's End
Greed's End
By Zmeydros AKA Alexi Tishen AKA Lucien Quinn
Agatha walks down a musty corridor, her tail flitting back and forth as an orb of light she conjured lights the way. She could have just gone trick or treating or to a dance, why did she decide to go on a dungeon crawl on Halloween?
She could be out with her friends partying right now, but then she'd have to give up this opportunity to explore a dungeon without Thades, the most loquacious tiger she's ever met, tagging along. Not that she's having any luck at all without him. She sighs. Right now, she wouldn't mind listening to one of his stories, this is the most boring underground excursion she's ever been on.
Ten hours she's been at this with nothing to show for it, no treasure, no map to find treasure, not even blood or gore from enemies she slew. This dungeon has been picked clean. She was a fool to think she'd find the tomb of the Gilded King down here.
A fool to go down here when everyone at her elite treasure hunting guild said that the only thing to see in the digger dungeon was the bones of those who were buried in the catacombs connected to the dungeon. Digger dungeon, a stupid name, for a stupid treasureless dungeon. Making a fist with one hand, she stamps her foot. She can't go back with nothing, it's a matter of draconic and feminine pride.
How many times have other members of her guild told her that she's too attractive to crawl through muck? Too regal to be an adventurer? Too short to down an ogre? Too many to count. Why do only a few of them see just how awesome she is after all the times that she's blown away their expectations? So what if she's short? She's a spellcaster--her height doesn't even matter. Is the power of stereotyping that potent? She smiles; unfortunately for them, their disbelief in her abilities only sharpens her determination. Someday they'll have to come to terms with her greatness. She growls as the corridor ends abruptly.
Another damn dead end. The walls have been carved out to make room for skeletons. She must be at the beginning of the catacombs now. A growl from her stomach derails her train of thought. She puts her pack down and searches through it for some food. The shortcake she brought is nearly gone and her beef jerky was labeled "teriyaki" but it should have been labeled "hellfire." Whoever made this beef jerky should be drowned in the painful sauce they soaked it in before they cured it. She frowns as she digs her claws into the palm of her hand before pushing some of her long black hair behind one of her pointed ears.
Taking the last bit of peanut butter shortcake out of its plastic bag, she sits down. After the feeling of the cold stone floor on her tail causes her to cringe, she moves it into her lap. Calmness starts to fill her as she idly plays with the end of her tail. She takes her canteen off of her belt and washes the last bit of shortcake down. That's still not enough food. Maybe if she eats the beef jerky really slowly, she can stomach it.
She pulls a piece out of the bag and takes a small bite. Seconds later, as she chews it, a painful hotness causes her to whimper before gulping down some water. That jerk of a jerky seller is going to get an earful from her when she gets out of here. She throws the piece at the far wall, growling in frustration.
Her eyes widen as she sees the piece of jerky disappear into the wall while causing the entire wall to ripple. An illusion? The fact that she didn't sense it means it's a very good illusion. A masterpiece. She walks up to the far wall and takes out a long piece of beef jerky before sticking it into the wall and pulling it out. A shape moving on the floor causes her to jump. She relaxes when she sees that it's just a rat.
It scurries through the wall and she follows it, giggling softly as she thinks about how it'll respond to the unbearable heat of her jerky. After she steps through the illusionary wall, she sees the rat take a bite of the beef jerky. It immediately squeaks and starts shaking its head while sticking out its tongue. It scurries over to the wall and then disappears when she spooks it with her laughter.
Even rats can't eat that stuff... She can't believe her luck. She's probably one of a very small number of people that's discovered the true nature of that wall. Who knows what kind of treasures lie before her? With happy bouncing steps, she walks down the hallway completely ignoring the bones piled on either side. A faint yellow is ahead of her. As she gets closer to it, she finds that it is a very bright field of magical energy.
The stone walls give way to a cylindrical room that's about fifteen feet in diameter. Stone benches are along the back wall while the yellow field is obscuring the only doorway out of this room other that the one she entered through. She almost jumps when she sees that there are skeletons sitting on the benches. Their bodies are twisted into contorted shapes and their jaws are wide open.
If she didn't know better, she'd say that these skeletons were in pain. A few of them are pointing toward the yellow obstruction. She walks up to it and carefully touches it. It feels as hard as s steel plate. She throws a piece of beef jerky as hard as she can and it bounces off. She can sense that a powerful mage created it and that it's old magic; not as old as its surroundings, though.
This field of magic, this barrier, could end her exploration, but if she gets through it, she'll find treasures no one's touched for centuries. Time to get a bit more information about the obstruction in front of her. Turquoise strands of magic trail her movements as she quickly casts a spell by pointing at her eyes, pointing at the barrier, and then pantomiming the opening of a book. Knowledge about the barrier appears as little turquoise boxes pointing at different parts of the barrier. As she reads them, yellow and turquoise light reflects off of her silver scales. Realizing that this barrier would take forever to blast through with her magic, she frowns.
Folding her ears down, she realizes that she has something that can get through that barrier easily, but it's a very expensive solution. Oh, well, it's the best chance she has. Pulling a scroll of antimagus out of one of the scroll pockets on her cargo pants, she unrolls it. She pauses for a moment before reading the words on the scroll. There better be enough treasure on the other side of this barrier to offset the cost of this scroll...
As she reads the words aloud, the scroll glows blue and shines until it starts to smoke. She lets go of the scroll when she's spoken the last word and it curls back into a tube. A beam of blinding blue-white light erupts from the end of the tube and collides with the yellow barrier. Sparks of magic curl as they jump from the place where the beam hits all the way out to the edges of the barrier.
She grins when the yellow field develops spiral-shaped scars that she can see through. A few seconds later, little pops and flashes of light occur all across it as it starts to flicker and fade. The crackling and popping noises remind her of pine cones in a fire.
The last bits of the yellow magical obstruction disappear into a shower of sparks that travel in little spirals. She gapes at the beauty of the barrier's destruction before grimacing and closing her nostrils. The smells of ozone, charred paper, and hot stone are coming from the acrid smoke that's now in the room. Agatha starts coughing when she inhales some of the smoke. If the only cost of clearing this path is her scroll and this smoke, that's fine by her.
After hastily putting her pack back on and walking through the doorway, she treads very carefully. The room ahead of her has three possible exits and is not much bigger than a room at a cheap hotel. Looking up, she guesses that the ceiling is at least ten feet above her head. One exit has skulls piled around the doorway, while the other two have thigh bones around them. She tries to find some difference between the other two doorways and nearly gives up before she realizes that the thigh bones in front of one of the doorways are smaller. Smaller probably means that they came from women and/or children.
It's not much to go on. Why would she want to choose one doorway above another based on that? She examines the skulls and notices that they don't seem to be the right shade of gray... They actually look fake. She probably shouldn't go through this door because it's probably a trap for fools or those who lack the power of observation. That leaves her with the two doorways surrounded in thigh bones.
After she takes a few steps forward and ancient words appear above the middle path. It's the same language that magic is written in, a language she knows well. "The path to the left leads to small rewards and no turmoil. The path in the center leads to riches beyond imagining, but they are not worth the pain and suffering that birthed them. The path to the right leads to a spring of fresh water."
They are not worth the pain and suffering that birthed them? That's part of an old song about the Gilded King. She's found his tomb! She's going to be rich! No one will question her skill again. First, she needs to stock up on fresh water, well, if this isn't some sort of trick. She tosses a piece of beef jerky through the doorway with the skulls and is happy to see that it doesn't hit anything. She keeps an eye out for trip wires and pressure plates as she walks down the passageway.
About twenty feet into the tunnel, she hears water gently trickling and when she turns a corner she sees light from a moon-like orb reflecting off of a placid pool of water. As she approaches the edge of the pool, she marvels at the clarity of the water and the beauty of the delicate stream that runs off the right side of the pool. She's not going to let the loveliness of this scene woo her into a false sense of security.
While casting the same information spell she cast on the yellow barrier, she smiles at how pretty the turquoise strands of magic look reflected in the water. The turquoise boxes she conjures reveal that this is indeed perfectly normal spring water. She leans toward the pool, closes her nostrils, and sucks up the water. She makes a happy noise at how cool, clean and refreshing the water is. After she drinks her fill, she tops off the water in all three of her canteens and heads back into the room with the three paths.
So, the Gilded King's tomb is down the center path. She giggles as she imagines coming back to her guild with huge gemstones, golden scepters, ancient coins, and priceless art over and over again. The whole world would know just how awesome she is and she would live like a queen, never wanting for anything. She would have too much money to keep it all to herself, maybe she could start an art museum or fund an orphanage. As long as she's comfortable, others may as well enjoy her wealth.
As she walks between the piles of thigh bones toward the door, she hears rattling and cracking noises. The noise gets louder and louder as she walks past the piles. When she looks behind her, a cloud of centuries-old dust gets in her eyes and she can barely make out movement. What the hell?
She stiffens and her heart starts to race as she feels hard dry objects come in contact with her body.
The piles of bones are moving together, with her between them.
They pinch and poke her, threatening to cage her in. Her throat tightens; she can smell their overpowering ancient musty odor as the points and edges push violently against her scales. She's going to be crushed! Her clothing and her tail are stuck in the mass behind her and the mass of bones is starting to close in around her. Screaming and thrashing, she tries to pull herself loose, but her foot gets surrounded. She can barely catch her breath, her heart feels like it's going to burst.
Kicking frantically with her other leg, she manages to get free and runs through the doorway. Shivering and panting heavily, she leans against a wall. She feels like running and collapsing into a crying fit at the same time. It's just her luck to get attacked by bones on Halloween.
What kind of tomb is this? What's the point of scaring her like that? Feeling a bit calmer, she stands up and turns toward the bones. There's no way she's going to just take this lying down and allow this pile of bones to close off her way back.
If she had another antimagus scroll, she could just dispel the enchantment on the bones. She could try one of her own dispel spells, but she only knows a couple weak ones and she probably doesn't have anything better in her new spellbook. Most of her magic skill is in kicking ass. Why can't this dungeon just have monsters in it?
Maybe she could use a destructive spell on the bones? No, if she did that, she'd be desecrating the remains of all those women and children. Even if she didn't have a problem with the desecration, this tomb might. The two thigh bone paths seemed to run almost completely side by side... Maybe she can blast her way through to the other path and then get buried alive in rubble...
This could be a very sturdy tomb for all she knows. She's blown foes away inside dungeons before with no ill effects. She walks down the passage about ten feet and sets her backpack down--she doesn't want to be weighed down by it if she has to run. When she gets back to the portion of wall she wishes to destroy, she aims her palm at it and carefully casts an explosion spell. After years of casting these for maximum effect, casting a small one feels like trying to pick up a grain of rice with chopsticks.
She moves her other hand in a flower-like pattern where every stroke crosses the middle. Strands of golden light shine in the pattern she's drawing and flow from it into the the open palm of her other hand. She easily spins the strands of magic that are in her palm into a swirling sphere. As the magic energy flows, she tries to slow it, but it still builds up quite fast.
It seems as though going slower is just allowing her to gather more energy. It's not helping her control the size of the blast at all. This isn't good, she has way more energy than she wanted already. To make things worse, she's lost her focus and the spell is destabilizing. The sphere in her hand is wobbling and losing its shape. She's going to blow herself up if she doesn't let this spell go right now! As she releases the spell, she puts her fingers in her ears, turns away, and ducks.
She clenches her eyes shut as she hears a rather loud bang and feels sharp craggy edges hit her back. A violent crumbling sound follows the bang and causes her to shake in fear. Her stomach lurches as she feels a warm trickle flow from wounds on her back. A hot throbbing pain soon follows. It feels as though tiny knives are stuck in her back.
A few seconds later, the crumbling has stopped and she turns around to see that. Her way out is buried in rubble.
She's such an idiot, why did she even try to do that? When she hears more crumbling noises, she focuses her attention on the wall again to see if she should run or duck, and ends up just gaping in awe. Crumbled rock is knitting back together as if time were running backwards. She's only seen magic like this once before and never on a scale so large.
As the wall repairs itself, a chill runs down her spine. She's at the mercy of whoever created this dungeon and the magic in this place is much more powerful than hers.
Wincing in pain, she pulls shards of the wall out of her back. None of them are in deep enough to cause any real danger and she's lucky that there are only a few of them. As she removes them, she can feel cuts from pieces of the wall that gave her glancing blows. She grimaces and contorts herself to grab hold of the last shard that's in her back. As she pulls it out, she sighs in pain and relief. The bleeding from the cuts and punctures on her back should stop soon, she's had worse.
Getting up, she walks down the passageway and picks up her pack. Her ears droop as she puts it on. She only has one path open to her now.
A few moments later, her ears perk up when she notices twinkling golden reflections on the wall. Inspecting one of the points of light, she sees a golden tooth. There must be over a hundred of them in this hallway. It's treasure, but she probably shouldn't take any of them.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to see how well they're stuck into the wall, in case she can't find any other treasure. She reaches out toward the wall cautiously watching closely for some sort of booby trap.
When her fingers are about a half-inch from the tooth, a bright flash of light bridges the gap between her fingertips and the tooth and then from her body to a tooth on the other wall. The electric shock causes her to cry out in surprise and serious pain.
She starts running immediately when she sees more flashes of light. The arcs catch up with her in a fraction of a second.
She stumbles and yelps each time an arc hits her. Her body reacts to each electrical discharge as if it's being hit by a two by four. She can't even run straight. She quickly loses count of how many times she's been struck. At the end of the passage four separate arcs hit her at once overloading her senses. Her muscles seize, her body spasms and she screams as she falls to the floor. For the next couple minutes, she lies there in the fetal position waiting for her trembling to stop. The smell of burnt cloth and scales wafting off of her is repulsive.
When she gets up to explore the next room, her tail has a kink in it from the stress she's feeling. Cold air is leaking through rips in her clothing and her heartbeat still hasn't evened out. She has to find the treasure and get out of here fast. There's something seriously wrong with this tomb.
The room she's in now is almost the size of a small house and she doesn't see a way out. When she approaches the back wall, magical lamps suddenly come on and startle her. She backs away while her eyes adjust.
A smile forms on her snout as she sees that nothing remotely scary is in front of her, it's just a stone tablet with more ancient glowing text. A grinding sound distracts her and she sees two portions of the wall retract into the ground to reveal passages. One next to the door she entered the room through, and one to the left of the stone tablet.
The writing on the tablet is bright compared to the rest of the room and she struggles with afterimages as she reads it. "Go back and stay alive. Go forward and become rich."
So, if she goes forward she'll die and gain riches? Or is it just trying to scare her. Maybe it's a trick of some kind. Seeing if she's brave enough to go forward.
Wait, this dungeon has already punished her for trying to touch those teeth. Maybe it will actually kill her if she goes ahead.
But, she doesn't want to go back with nothing at all. She's the first person that's been in this tomb in hundreds of years. There's probably still a bunch of stuff down here.
She takes short anxious breaths as she weighs her options. The problem is that she's not sure whether she can deal with other magic she might find in this place. If she's dead, it doesn't matter what treasures she found.
The text on the tablet changes as the opening to the path behind her closes. "This should be an easy choice. Torment. Torment. Torment. And death. That is what you have chosen."
No, no, no no! This is not good. She's had enough torment for one day. She's getting the fuck out of here. She shakes in fear as her heart starts to race and her chest tightens in panic as she realizes she has no way out. She feels like screaming for help, running as fast as she can, hitting the walls... She turns toward the wall that closed and starts casting a desperate explosion spell.
If this wall's going to repair itself, she'll just have to keep destroying it faster than it can heal. If the cavern starts coming down on her, she can run to the path that is open. Magic surges through her as she casts a desperate explosion spell. A bright sphere of energy shoots from her palm at the area where the way out was. She lies on the floor face down, bracing herself for the explosion.
Nothing happens.
Her explosion spells can't be duds like real explosives. What is going on? She gets up and casts a magic dart. The spell is so simple that she just flicks her wrist and a green dart of magical energy shoots toward the wall. When it hits the wall, a rippling effect seems to absorb it. This barrier is nothing like the one that was at the entrance. She didn't even detect it.
Casting the same spell that gave her information about the other barrier, she points at her eyes, then the barrier, and then pretends to open a book. The turquoise strands of magic trailing her hands become chaotic when she makes the last movement and the spell results in one turquoise box with a question mark in the center. Oh well, she's going to have to figure this one out with some old fashioned trial and error.
She shoots more darts of larger and larger intensity. Then she conjures a magic piercing arrow by holding her fingers near each other and pushing one forward while pulling the other back. It takes her a fraction of a second to cast. The moment she's created it, it flies to the wall and the same rippling effect absorbs it.
That type of arrow is supposed to pierce magical barriers and it's one of her specialties. It doesn't help her get through barriers, but it allows her to deal damage through them. Does nothing get through the magic that's in her way? It's time for her most advanced damage dealing spell. Maybe she can overload the barrier. She never tried this on the other one because she had a scroll and didn't want to fatigue herself so early in her dungeon crawl.
She starts casting an explosion spell with both hands, making spirograph-like patterns with her index fingers. When the strands of yellow energy are almost blinding, she makes an inward spiral behind each pattern. Then she makes a blue circle around the spiral and she presses her circles with spirals into the energy she gathered.
She can feel the searing heat from her magic as she flicks the edge of each flat plane of energy she made, causing them to spin and grow brighter. Now she can add even more energy. As she moves her hands around the two swirling spheres of energy, strands of yellow magical energy flow from her hands into them. They spin faster and faster until they look like they're going to come apart. She can barely look at them, they're so bright.
Her heart skips a beat when one of the spheres starts becoming oblong and strands break free. Shit! She's going to lose control of the spell.
She moves her hand around the sphere, adding bits of energy from the right directions to nudge it back into shape. Now for the most dangerous part. She continues moving her hands while adding thousands more strands to the spheres. They start spinning so fast, she can't even see the individual strands. SHe keeps adding energy even when they start wobbling with strands breaking free in arcs like solar flares.
Just as they destabilize fully and tear themselves apart, she sticks her silver-scaled hands into the center of each one. She sets her jaw as she attempts to control the energy that's now swirling around her hands. She feels like she's going to faint. This is more than she's ever tried to control. She needs to get rid of some of the energy. Baring her sharp teeth, she growls and presses her hands together before popping them open so that the palms are facing the wall.
A bright yellow disorganized sphere of swirling energy flies at the wall so fast that she'd miss it if she blinked. The barrier ripples and strange curly lines appear all over it as it absorbs her explosive magic. She glares at the barrier--she's not done yet. So, it can handle large concentrations of magic; how about many small ones? Well, small for her. She makes her hands into gun shapes and starts shooting tiny spheres at the wall like a storm of bullets.
After a minute of constant bombardment, she's panting and her energy is about half gone, but the barrier is flickering in places. It's go time! She starts firing even faster and the barrier starts whining as it flickers more and goes dark in some places. She's only got a fourth left and it's still not down. Ancient magic be damned! She starts firing at the weakest points and then she does something she can only do once every couple weeks.
She breathes out a cloud of purple magical energy that flows to her hands and gives her almost as much as she started with. The time she spent training with an archmage last year really paid off. Storing magical energy in your body is really useful. If only she learned this earlier, she'd have a lot more energy to add. She grins as she sees hexagonal cracks forming in the barrier. It's about to die. Then she can use the rest of her energy to blow or cut through the rock behind it.
Just as she sees the whole barrier darkening, a green bolt shoots out of the barrier and hits her, knocking her to the ground.
It feels like some giant arm just punched her in the stomach. She cries out in pain and as she falls backward and accidentally hits the ceiling with two of her magical explosive bullets.
As her bullets knock a boulder loose from the ceiling, there's a cracking sound so deep that she can feel it in her bones.
She screams as the rock falls, knowing she can't move out of its way in time. When it hits, she hears a sickening crunch.
She screams and growls while trying to control the last bit of magical energy she collected. The pain is hot, sharp, and debilitating. It takes her a whole minute of slow breathing to get to a point where she can actually think.
As the agony relents slightly, she realizes her whole body wasn't crushed--just her tail and one leg. She can see and move her arms, although any motion causes pain that feels like a hot poker digging into her spine.
She traces a rune with one of her fingers that looks like an upside down four and then makes a grasping motion toward the boulder. Wincing in pain, she uses some of her remaining energy to move the boulder. The pain gets worse, causing her to gasp. The gore that used to be her leg and tail is nearly unrecognizable. She can't bear to think about the scale of the damage.
Healing was never her specialty, but she has plenty of energy to waste on her inefficient healing skills. She has to concentrate now. Push the pain back. If she doesn't act soon, she may lose too much blood. She speaks some ancient words and points at her leg with one hand.
Her leg starts to knit itself back together and she moans at the terrible prickly sensation. This is not her strong suit at all. She hisses as she says the magic words. It hurts so much that her stomach is becoming unsettled. When her leg is mostly healed, she mends her tail as best she can. Both her leg and tail are a bit sore, but when she stands up, she finds she can walk. Her pack feels heavier now, though. A wave of wooziness washes over her when she sees the pool of her own blood on the floor.
She looks over and sees that the barrier has repaired itself. Now what? She takes a deep breath and pushes back at the feeling of being completely trapped. All that's left if she wants to live... die... is going down the path that's open. She did break that barrier, which is something she doubts the creators of this terrible place thought possible. They may have had a countermeasure, but that's just good planning, it doesn't mean they expected anyone to actually get through it. So, maybe she can do something they weren't expecting and get away with some treasure, alive.
As she walks down the passage, she notices that the rock walls are smoothing out and hears a faint trickling sound coming from up ahead. The passage gives way to a room that is a perfect cube. On each wall, there is a pool of water with a slow trickle feeding it from above. The moment she's well inside the room, a smooth rock wall slides into place and columns of light flicker into existence in each corner. The walls of this room are a dark boring gray and have almost no features.
After a couple minutes of inspecting the room and finding it to be one of the most boring places she's ever been in, she sees writing appear on one of the walls as if someone was drawing it with glowing orange ink. She reads the ancient language carefully
"If you want to live, solve a puzzle."
She tilts her head, unsure of the meaning, and is actually happy when a panel in the center of the floor opens to reveal a square pillar that has five pitchers on it. As the pillar extends up from the floor, she examines it and the pitchers.
The gray pitchers are of varying size; four of them have numbers carved into them and the last one, the largest one, is blank. The numbers are 3, 5, 7, and 11. They are arranged around a ledge on the pillar and the center of the pillar has a square recess with a square stone plate at the bottom. The orange text fades as she inspects the pitchers.
As she looks at these pitchers, she shakes her head. An IQ test? What does this have to do with anything?
She looks at the wall when a slab moves up to reveal a mosaic image of a king on a throne, as big as a painting that someone might put over a fireplace. The king's face alone is made up of at least fifty little shards of colored ceramic, and seems to leer insultingly at her. Glowing purple text appears in the same manner as the orange text did just under the portrait.
"I order you to put exactly three triscals of water into number 11 and place it in the center."
The number sixty appears next to the statement and starts counting down, as the stone slab moves back down to cover the mosaic of the king. What's the point of the king portrait? It's probably just there to make this more demeaning.
She takes a few seconds to look at the pitchers. One is labeled 3. Why would they make it so easy? With a shrug, she goes over to one of the pools of water and fills the pitcher labeled "3" up to a black mark on the inside. When she touches the extremely cold water with her hand, her strength starts to leave her and she feels dizzy. She better make sure she doesn't touch or drink this water.
After pouring the water into the eleven-triscal pitcher, she puts it on the recess in the center. The countdown stops immediately and the slab in the wall slides up with a grating sound of stone on stone, revealing the king once again. "Correct. I order you to dump the water out and then put exactly three triscals of water into number 11 and place it in the center." The king is covered as the timer starts once again.
That's the same thing she just did. What's the point in her solving the same puzzle twice with only five seconds less time... If five seconds keep getting removed... Oh, this is the stupidest, most annoying tomb! She dumps the water back into one of the pools and does the puzzle again. Then she is given she same task with five seconds removed again.
She continues repeating the task until the timer gives her only twenty seconds. This time she knows she's in trouble and runs across the room as fast as she can to complete the task. When she shoves the pitcher into the pool in haste, a large splash of the cool water hits her entire upper body and she falls to the ground. It feels as though she just got done running a marathon, like she just got done moving all her possessions to a new living space on her own.
She watches the timer count down hopelessly, unable to find the strength to move. Her heart tries to race, but she can barely keep her eyes open.
The fear she feels is like a waking nightmare. She's going to die and she can't even get up the strength to yell.
As the timer nears zero, she tries to get some part of her to move, but her body won't answer her commands. She braces herself as best she can when the timer reaches zero.
The king appears. "Disappointing. One more failure and I will have no use for you. I order you to put twelve triscals into the unmarked container and place it in the center." The timer gives her sixty seconds and starts counting down as the king is covered back up.
The fatigue starts to fade as she thinks about a solution. She can get eleven, but how is she going to get the extra one? She only has a 3, 5, 7, and an 11. Oh, all she has to do is fill the seven and then use it to fill and dump the three twice. One triscal will be left in the seven after that. She could also do it with the eleven and the five if she needed to.
She solves the puzzle and the king appears, asking for the same solution again, but instead of the timer giving her less time, it gives her the same amount of time. She solves the puzzle five more times without the timer changing. Her arms are getting tired from all the carrying and pouring. Will she be here until she dies of thirst or she is too exhausted to carry out the task? She takes a moment to drink from one of her canteens before solving the puzzle again.
Four more times, she solves it. So, this is it. This is what the rest of her life is going to be? Three more times. She growls at the top of her lungs. That fucking king and his giving of the same order over and over again! One more time. She tries to regain her composure.
Instead of the king coming back, orange text appears. "When a king is controlled by greed, his subjects suffer."
"Thanks for nothing, you piece of shit! Yes, I'm suffering. I hope someone is getting satisfaction from this because then it would mean something! Just kill me and get it over with!" She yells and shakes in rage.
The king returns and his purple text says, "I order you to dump the water out and then put exactly thirteen triscals of water into number 11 and place it in the center."
As the counter counts down, she starts to panic. It's number 11, how is she supposed to fill it with 13? The seconds tick by as she shivers thinking about the task. There's got to be some catch. She looks at the eleven triscal pitcher to see if there's something she missed. She smiles when she sees that the fill mark is pretty far down the neck of the pitcher. She relaxes as she gets the five triscal pitcher and uses it to put ten triscals in. After that, she gets the three triscal pitcher and dumps it in. She laughs hysterically when she finds that the eleven triscal pitcher holds exactly thirteen triscals.
Her heart races when she realizes she only has three seconds left to get the pitcher into the middle. The water almost splashes out of the pitcher as she sets it down. She looks at the timer and sees that it's on zero just after she sets the pitcher down. She takes a deep breath.
After that, the king asks her to repeat her task after dumping the water out. She smirks as she just grabs the five triscal pitcher and fills it all the way before filling the eleven triscal pitcher as far as she can without touching the water. She tops it off with the five triscal pitcher and places it in the middle. Forty-one seconds left. "Ha! Take that!"
The king returns and asks for the same task again and again. Her rage builds as her body tires and she loses track of how many times she completes the task. Ten? Fifteen? She starts swearing constantly and thrashing about as she continues to repeat the task. She's fit, but her muscles are starting to burn from exertion and her sore leg is starting to throb. The fatigue she feels when she sometimes spills water on herself is starting to get unfathomably annoying.
A couple iterations later, orange letters appear once again while the king is away. "Because he cannot be satisfied."
She growls at the wall. "So, I'm just going to keep doing this until I die?"
The king comes back and says. "I order you to fill the three triscal pitcher with three triscals and place it in the center."
An easier task than any of the others? She shakes in rage as her tail thrashes behind her. The leg she hurt is very sore now. Her muscles are burning and her blood is boiling with anger. She does it sixteen more times before something inside her breaks. Maniacal laughter comes from her as a white hot ember of condensed ire takes her body over.
It feels like she can fly on wings of rage. She feels powerful, unstoppable, invincible, and so very alive. Images of herself clawing at the walls, crushing the bones in the catacombs, and burning her enemies alive as they cry out in pain flash through her head. If she was even slightly less angry, she'd be scared of herself, but right now she feels almost giddy. Her whole body takes on a feral appearance as she extends her claws, bends her legs, leans forward, bares her teeth and thrashes her tail.
She grabs a pitcher and waits for the king to appear. Then she screams as she throws it as hard as she can at him. Her lungs, throat and ears hurt from her cries of rage as she continues to throw every other pitcher at the king. She throws so many, so fast and so hard that she doesn't even see what happens to the king until she's stopped.
Wiping up tears she didn't know she shed, she starts laughing, still high on the extreme adrenaline rush. The mosaic of the king has been obliterated and the few shards that are left get caught on the slab as it closes. She continues to laugh as she watches the slab crush the last remnants of the king. If she's going to die, at least she won't have to listen to him anymore. Broken pitcher shards litter the entire room.
For the next couple minutes, she glares at the place the king used to be as if she's waiting for him to reappear so she can claw at him. Her feral stance slowly wanes as another few minutes pass. Eventually, the fatigue she feels starts to win out over her rage and she collapses next to the pillar that came out of the floor. The water she touched, her sore muscles, her healing leg and tail, the energy she expended in her fit of anger. All of it hits her at once and her eyes become heavy.
* * * * *
Some unknown amount of time later, she opens her eyes and sees orange text on the wall. "The puzzle has been solved."
"Oh really? FUCK YOU! Yeah, you heard me, you sadistic piece of stonework. If I had a diamond tipped drill for a penis, I'd shove it right up your rocky ass and you'd like it! I'd make you my rock hard bitch!" She laughs, still feeling a bit hysterical. She would take credit, but the puzzle solved itself. It got her angry enough to strike out at the king and not care about the consequences... So that was torment. All she needs now is some death to go with it. A crazed laughter comes from her until she works at calming herself. She'd rather die sane, if possible.
When she looks around the room, she sees that one of the corners has opened to reveal a path. Taking a canteen off her belt, she drinks some water. A familiar pain in her stomach causes her to dig through her pack until she finds a wrapper for a pastry she already devoured. She uses her forked tongue to lick crumbs off of the wrapper. If only she brought more edible food... After she's done with the wrapper, she puts it back in her pack.
Before travelling down the path that was just revealed, she casts a light spell. She must have slept a bit after she had her rage fit, because she doesn't feel as heavy as she did before. Her leg throbs as if it wants to remind her that it's not happy. If she lives through this, she's going to need medical attention.
Her small body shivers and the end of her tail kinks as she sees that part of the hallway has flooded. For all she knows, it could be a pit full of that fatigue water. If she fell in, she might not be able to swim to the other side.
Plus, it's probably very cold water... Cold... She starts casting an ice spell by moving her hands in a spiral pattern and then she drawing an outline of a snowflake. Faint bluish-white strands trail her motions. The water freezes quickly as strands of magic hit it. Her mind feels a bit taxed by the time she stops, guessing that the ice is thick enough to walk across.
With a smirk and a giddy bounce in her step, she pushes forward. It can't be much longer now. What else could this tomb throw at her? A flaming cow? A ninja cat? She hasn't even found any traps.
A couple minutes later, she sees orange words appear on the wall beside her, and turns to look.
"If the dead were able to come back to reclaim that which they lost in life, would there still be greed?"
Her heart nearly falls out of her chest when she reads the words. A chill runs down her spine and she mutters, "Oh shit!" as she hears a mass of dry scraping sounds coming from behind her.
Her orb of light goes dark.
She screams. She runs down the hall, away from the scraping noises. Her small feet land on the stone so quickly that the sounds of the individual footfalls blend together. Each time she trips on an irregularity in the floor, the pain in her injured leg flares up and she grits her teeth. She has to keep running.
A couple minutes later, she trips and the scales on her left hand scrape against the stone as she falls onto her left side. She can't catch her breath and her heart is beating so fast she can't feel individual beats. The scraping sounds are far away now. At least she has time to think. What is after her? Zombies? Animated corpses? Skeletons? Thousands of rats? What spell could she possibly cast that would help her in this situation?
She could cast a barrier spell of her own. Just as she starts trying to cast the spell, she feels movement from the walls. Something rough and hard is holding each of her arms. The scratching sounds get louder and louder as she tries to break free of whatever's grabbing her. She pulls so hard that she feels cuts open up on her arms. The scraping noises are definitely close now.
Sweat pours down her shoulders and forehead as she pants and whimpers. What's she going to do? What in the hell is she going to do? She would have to cut off her arms to get free from the grasp of the thing that's holding her, and she doesn't have a method for doing that even if she wanted to. Something grabs her boot and she writhes, trying to get free even though she knows she can't. She rubs her muzzle on the thing that's holding one of her arms in a desperate attempt to identify her assailant.
She feels fingers made of dried flesh and bone. No wonder it smells so stale in here! She's being held by the arms of the dead! She could have just watched a horror movie with her friends tonight. Why the hell did she choose to be in one instead! Tears stream down her face as she feels the hands pulling at her.
A surge of courage causes her to growl. She'll chew her way out if she has to! Biting one of the hands that's holding her, her stomach churns at the taste. Dried human flesh. She has no choice. She has to keep trying. With her pulse pounding in her ears, she chews on the hand that's around her left arm. Another couple hands grab her boots. She spits out the flesh as she bites it off.
It takes all her jaw pressure to crack the bones of the fingers holding her left arm, but she gets it free. A few more hands grab her legs and start pulling her back the way she came. She feels the hand around her other arm release her just as she realizes that she doesn't want to be dragged away. She reaches out, trying to grab the arm or anything that would stop her from being dragged away.
More hands grab her legs as she feels arms move against her and start pulling on her waistband.
She struggles against them and yells for help. The hands grab even harder, tearing through her pants and through some of the scales on her legs. She can feel blood flowing from the wounds as the arms pull her even faster.
She shivers in fear as she feels hands scraping across each other to grab more and more of her body. She struggles as she feels hands moving about her waist, and ends up getting more cuts. She gasps and shivers in fear as hands grab her arms. When a couple hands grab the sore part of her tail and start pulling on it, she cries out in pain.
Something wet is leaking into her boots. Is she already back at the pool of water she froze? More hands grab her with crushing grips, causing her to yelp in pain and thrash. Her knees enter the water as she starts to sob. Are they going to drown her? When her waist enters the pool, she shivers. The water is so cold. A hand grabs her hair and tugs on it viciously, causing her neck to bend painfully.
Her torso enters the water quickly and she takes a deep breath as she's pulled under. Her heart feels like it's going to give out. Her body wants to scream out in agony from the pain of her flesh being torn, but all she can do is try to hold her breath.
The burning in her lungs gets more and more intense as she's dragged deeper and deeper. This is it, she may as well just inhale water and get it over with. There's no way she can live through this. She can't bear the pain anymore. At least she'll be free of this torment soon. She opens her mouth and starts breathing out. All she has to do is inhale as much water as she can and she'll be freed from this torment.
Just as she starts to inhale water, she's thrown out of the pool and onto a stone floor. All the hands let go at once and she's left there coughing and sputtering. It takes her what seems like ages to catch her breath.
A minute later, she starts laughing like someone who should be institutionalized. The horror of her encounter fades as she laughs, and a few minutes later, her whole body hurts from her glee at the sheer idea that she's still alive. Cold, but alive. She sits up and groans at the feeling of all the cuts and scrapes.
Casting a light spell, she finds that she's in the same passage that she was just in. She listens carefully for scraping sounds and sighs in relief when she hears none. The trickling of her own blood distracts her from her happy thoughts. Green strands of magic flow from her hands to her wounds as she tries to patch herself up a bit. Her hands move slower and slower as she casts healing spells. Eventually, she flops onto her side. This has to be good enough.
Her soaked and tattered clothing does nothing to protect her from the cold air of the dungeon. She can't keep her eyes open. Her body feels cold and heavy. The floor under her starts to feel warm for some reason her tired mind doesn't even try to comprehend. She can just lie here as long as she wants. Regain her strength... Her body goes limp as she drifts off to sleep.
* * * * *
When she opens her eyes, she's happy to find that her light spell is still working. She frowns at the stone walls of the passageway. Why can't she just wake up in her bed? Why does she still feel so tired?
She needs to get up and get out of here. She needs medical attention. She's lost blood, she's broken bones, she's bruised all over, and she's starting to lose her mind. Standing up, she starts walking away from the pool that she came out of. Drops of water fall from her hair and clothing as she travels down the hallway. It's good she put her new spellbook in a plastic bag...
The next room she enters is mostly like the inside of a normal cave. It's about the size of a small bathroom and it has a smooth stone wall at the other end.
Words appear on the wall. "He taxed them until they had nothing, not even protection from the elements." A stone box pushes its way out of the wall.
She just stands there staring at the wall, wondering what she's supposed to do. Taxed them, huh? She puts her coin purse into the box.
Nothing happens.
She puts her pack into the box; still nothing.
After a couple minutes of looking around the room and finding nothing of interest, she stares at the box again. A wave of nausea hits her when she realizes that she hasn't given the box everything.
Naked in a fifty degree cave? There's no way she's giving up her clothing. Would she rather just sit here until she dies of starvation or thirst? Maybe if she passes this test, she will prove that she's not greedy and the dungeon will let her go or something. She starts taking off her pants and cringes when the cold air comes in contact with her legs. She puts her pants in the box. Then she takes off her jacket and blouse before putting them in the box.
She waits for a couple minutes silently hoping that she can keep her undergarments. The cold air causes her to shiver as she waits. Sighing in frustration, she takes off her bra. The feeling of her nipples hardening in the cold air is not the least bit pleasurable. They actually hurt a bit from the cold. Waiting again, she silently hopes that she can keep her panties. Nothing happens. With a frustrated growl, she takes off her panties and throws them into the box. It closes slowly. Her crotch feels so cold. This is ridiculous.
Her body tingles from the cold as she waits for something to happen. Time passes slowly as the frigid air saps away her heat.
When her teeth start chattering, she casts a simple fire spell to warm herself up. Orange strands of magic bridge the gap between her hands as she presses them together and pulls them apart. The strands start to swirl around her warming her scales.
A couple seconds later, a huge wave of heat comes from the walls of the chamber. A searing heat.
Like someone just threw her into an oven. She smells her hair starting to char, her clothing starting to burn. Then she hears sizzling and feels incredible pain on the soles of her feet. She's being cooked alive! The floor is now a frying pan!
If she hangs on for a moment, maybe she can warm up enough to make it through this. She steels herself against the pain. When she smells her own flesh burning, she puts out her fire spell. She cries as her feet start to throb in pain from the burns they've received. The room cools almost instantly, soothing her burns, but causing her to shiver once more.
Feeling a rush of fear and frustration, she runs out into the passage that brought her here, only to discover that it's even colder. Her tears come even faster as she desperately paces back and forth in the room to stay warm. Her tears feel so cold as they land on her breasts. She looks at the cuts and bruises all over her body; no one would find her attractive now.
When her ears start to hurt from the cold, she realizes that she can see her own breath.
The room is getting colder? As if it wasn't too cold already. She shivers uncontrollably as she feels her way around the room, trying to see if there's something she missed.
There's a small spot in the room that feels ever so slightly warmer than the rest of the room. She smiles widely as she curls up and lies on that spot. It's a small victory in a stream of failures.
After what seems like hours of shivering and crying from the fear that she's been left here in this cold room to die, she hears a click that causes her ears to perk up. A way out?
The words on the tablet have changed so that they say, "He stripped flesh from bone to silence those he oppressed."
The wall descends into the floor and reveals a tunnel. She runs immediately into the tunnel and almost jumps for joy. It's not cold in here!
Her chest and belly start to regain some feeling as her muscles start to feel less tense as she limps her way down the tunnel. The pain and soreness throughout her entire body wanes in her elation about feeling warm air against her scales. She sees a faint light at the end of this tunnel and limps faster toward it.
When she reaches the end of the tunnel, she sees a magical lamp illuminating a doorway with something white around the periphery.
The door is hundreds of feet away and she can't make out much detail. The constant flickering of the lamp is getting on her nerves--she can't see as clearly as she'd like to. Her orb of light isn't helping much since this corridor is so wide and tall. She could cast a stronger light spell, but that is a lot more work than she wants to do now. What she wouldn't give for a nice emergency room bed right now... She walks for a couple minutes while flexing her hands, which are warming up.
Why are there horizontal slots only an inch apart along the entire floor of this very long hallway? Her steps fall out of rhythm as her aching, cut, burnt, crushed, and bruised body becomes less numb. She was so cold that she didn't feel the sheer amount of damage her body sustained.
As she nears the doorway, she sees that it is made of hundreds of skulls. She gulps and keeps walking toward it. She'd give just about anything to not have to go back to being cold. Maybe she'll get her clothes back when she goes through it? She feels as if icy fingers are pressing on her spine when she sees that all the skulls' mouths are wide open.
The warmth finally makes it to her fingers and toes, causing them to tingle painfully. Was she almost frost-bitten? She stops to shake her hands and feet, wincing when she puts all her weight on one foot or the other. She feels her thighs and finds that they are only slightly cold. Her hands are actually a bit warmer than they are, and she rubs them carefully, making sure to avoid the gashes and bruises.
Then she takes care rubbing the length of her tail. Her own touch calms her and she sits on the floor. The slots in the floor have defined edges and make sitting a bit less comfortable than she'd like. She rubs her tail, her belly, her breasts, her sides, her legs and even her head. It's as if she's bathing in the warmth of this hallway and scrubbing the cold out of her scales.
By the time she's done, she's relaxed. The pain from the damage all over her body seems much less acute now that she's calmed and centered herself. She's alive and warm. Two things she feared she'd lose forever.
What else could this tomb possibly do to her? If treasure's on the way out, she'll pick it up, but she's not going to go even a few steps out of her way for it now. Getting out of here would be treasure in and of itself. She'll walk out of this place nude if she has to. If anyone asks her why she left all her stuff behind, she can tell them that the tomb of the Gilded King is an evil place. Maybe she could bring a team of mages with her and show this tomb who's boss.
With newfound courage, she walks toward the door.
When she's about twenty feet away, it opens by splitting in the center and sliding into the walls. Her tail sways back and forth as excitement surges through her. She's more sore and beat up than she ever remembers being, but she survived. The other side of this door has to lead out of here. There's nothing left to do to her except give her freedom from this terrible place.
As she nears the doorway, a chorus of faraway sounds makes her ears perk up. It sounds like people are yelling, yelling in anguish and pain!
Her heart skips a beat and her entire body shivers. They're death knells!
The closer she gets to the doorway, the louder the screams get. Oh no. Oh no. No, no no! Not another trick. Her chest tightens as she hears the anguished cries of the dying echo inside her own head.
It's not just a sound; it's as if she can actually feel dying people's despair and fear, as the wails and moans assault her mind. No magic she's ever faced was this terrible. A wave of nausea washes over her--she can't handle any more. She can't think with all these screams, she has to get away from this door.
When she turns to run away from the door, there's a jarring sound of ringing metal, echoing all around the cavern and almost drowning out the screams for a second.
Her eyes take a moment to recognize the forest of thin pointed shapes in front of her. They're swords with ragged edges and they're sticking through the slots in the floor. The entire way back is blocked.
She tries to cast a spell to break the swords in her way, but the cries of pain and anguish keep her from being able to focus long enough. She puts her fingers in her ears, but she can still hear the anguish just as clearly. Her body starts to tremble, her breath becomes short, her eyes become wet and she can barely walk forward. She starts to cry when the voices start begging for their lives.
"You're all dead! I can't give your lives back! Just shut up! SHUT UP! SHUUUUT UUUUP!" she yells at the top of her lungs.
Bracing herself, she pushes forward, crying as the voices continue to beg. She has to move, she can't let this sorrow freeze her in place. Only the path ahead is open to her. The only way to get away from this doorway is to go through it.
The voices get louder.
So many innocent lives... The pain and suffering starts to fill her as if the voices are transferring the anguish of their actual deaths to her.
She can feel her flesh being torn away from her bones. It's a sickening sensation. She feels like someone is just grabbing hold of her flesh and pulling until it comes apart. The pain is so strong that she feels dizzy. She can feel the fear, the hopelessness.
Her breaths come faster and faster. Her heart feels like someone's trying to pull it out of her chest as she feels the flesh around it pull away. Her body looks fine, but the illusion may as well be real. It hurts so much that her voice catches in her throat.
The intensity of the experience causes fantasy and reality to blend so much that she sees her own body torn apart when she looks down at it. She can't breathe, she has no lungs! She stumbles forward and then falls just on the other side of the doorframe.
Pulling herself out of the illusion as best she can, she pounds her chest and tries to pull in air. Her lungs burn as her limbs start to feel like dead weights. With her last bit of strength, she pulls herself to the other side of the door hoping the screams will stop. They are just as loud after her feet cross the threshold. She tries to move her limbs and pull herself farther away, but she can't feel any muscles to move them with.
It's as though the flesh that makes up her arms is missing. She can't feel the stone floor beneath her, she can't feel her own scales.
She's being killed by anguish that isn't her own. She never would have imagined such a fate, and that's why she's going to die.
Every part of her is missing, she has nothing to feel with, nothing to protect her from the screams as they get louder and louder. She looks toward the wall as her light spell dims.
Fear fills her as the world dims. She's going to die here, cold, naked, and alone. She's going to die! Her body won't move no matter how hard she wishes for it.
Soon exhaustion outweighs fear and she starts to close her eyes. She can't even feel her own heart beat. Maybe it's not beating at all... At least she won't have to listen to people suffer anymore...
She closes her eyes and tries to ignore the burning in her lungs. Does she want to breathe again if she would have to keep hearing these screams? No. Dying is by far the better choice. At least she can find a moment's peace by letting the terrible screams and exhaustion win. Her mind slows as the screams fill it. An ironic thought causes her a brief moment of amusement as she feels her body giving out. This is a fitting way to die on Halloween... She is soon completely limp, completely still.
* * * * *
Agatha's eyes open to complete darkness. As she wakes up, she hears a dripping sound somewhere in the distance. Is she alive? She moves the end of her tail, then her fingers, and her toes. If this is heaven, someone must have turned out the lights. If this is hell, she's going to have to have a chat with God about why her good deeds went unnoticed, and if she's still in the catacombs, she may as well be in hell.
Standing up, she casts a light spell and sees that she's in another rock passage.
Her leg throbs in pain as she hobbles forward. Her naked body shivers in the not-quite-warm-enough air. Every part of her feels heavy, tired, and injured. She falls into a daze as she forges ahead and jumps in surprise when columns of light come on and illuminate a large cubical room. She could probably fit a small house in here...
Treasure is everywhere. Ancient and very profitable treasure. A diamond the size of a golfball, rubies the size of marbles, coins from ancient empires, and tons of intricate gilded furnishings. There's even a gilded hair brush and a cane. A scepter decorated with fragile silver and gold leaves is encrusted with hundreds of diamonds. She looks at all of it half-heartedly, too mentally and physically exhausted to get excited over it. She even manages to spot her belongings on a pedestal in the center of the room.
All four walls glow softly with the words, "Is this treasure worth the pain and suffering that birthed it? You will live and you will be rich. Are you happy now?"
The most terrible part of it all, is that she is to blame for the torment she experienced. Her greed and need to have her ego stroked got her into this mess. She could have just spent time with her friends in a sexy costume and maybe even gotten laid tonight, but she decided to spend her time alone instead. Alone in a tomb on Halloween. What a sad existence she lives.
Tears stream down her face as she collapses onto a pile of gold coins. This room is warm and there is nothing torturous about it, but her heart won't slow, her chest won't relax. Is it really over? Is she safe? Images of what she's been through haunt her as she cries. If this is another trick, she'll gladly accept death rather than endure any more torture.
She's had enough. She's been through enough for one lifetime.
She laughs. This treasure isn't worth anything. It's blood money. It's worth its weight in suffering and death. If this isn't another trick and she's able to collect this treasure, she's going to find something to do with it that will spread enough joy to outweigh the sorrow that was caused by its consolidation. No one should have to go through what she went through.
No one should have to go through what they went through. No one should ever be this rich.
THE END