Lunae woke with only the light of a single glowstone to greet her. <TAKE INVENTORY. STATE HOW I AM> She was hungry. But there were no torches, no food, no water. The leather band was still looped over her shoulder.
If it weren't for that, she might have given up right there. Dying would cost her nothing, but reincarnating in another character would. And while still in possession of a rare, possibly magical, artifact, she just might survive and turn her find into a treasure bonus.
The chamber--from what she could tell by feel and from examination at a nose-bumping distance with glowstone in hand--looked exactly like the chamber in which she spent the previous night. She stuffed the glowstones under her tunic and unbolted the door.
<SMELL, LISTEN> The musty scent gagged her. If there were any scent of her thief, it was masked. She just stood there, engulfed by the odor. Something about it seemed to dull her reactions. To her right, from the direction she had come, she heard a scrapping, plopping, near-liquid sound, as if three tons of gelatin were moving down the corridor toward her.
<GET BACK INSIDE THE CHAMBER, LOCK THE DOOR> Her body started to move in response to her intent; however, it didn't follow through. Her arm reached for the door, but it stopped in mid-air. It was the numbing scent that had her in its spell.
<TURN LEFT> She half turned. The sound of the approaching creature was noticeably nearer.
<TURN LEFT> Now that she no longer faced her approaching doom, talk overheard at the Wizard's Gate came back to her. This was the CATACOMB's garbage collector. It was so huge that it entirely filled the width and height of the corridor; it digested anything organic in its path. Nothing she had heard, however, warned her of its stupefying scent.
<MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD> It worked! <MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD> She moved. Okay Simple actions only.
<MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD> She wasn't moving fast, but neither was her musty friend <MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE LEFT FOOT FORWARD. MOVE RIGHT FOOT FORWARD>
Fifty yards ahead of the gelatinous mound, the effects of the scent began to lessen, and she broke into a run. Still sightless, she tried to pace herself, so that striking a wall wouldn't hurt her too badly.
Several times she scraped her arm against the left side of the corridor as she drifted too close to the wall. The surface wasn't exactly smooth, more like mason work than natural stone. This corridor resembled the one she had traveled prior to finding the glowstone chamber, so she was not surprised when her fingertips felt a large stone door. She stopped.
The blob of gelatin was far behind, but she had no doubt that it would get to her soon enough if she didn't find shelter. She tried the door. It opened with a popping, grinding sound.
To her light-starved eyes, the glowstone seemed to light the chamber brightly. The stench of Tor beast mixed with the old scents of spice, mule, and the faint odor of her thief. The same chamber? Was her sense of direction that far off?
But, first things first. She picked up a familiar boulder and barricaded the door separating her from old acid-and-quivery. Her warped sword slid quickly from its sheath, and she made a quick attack on the hidey-hole and skewered the empty air hiding there. Only then did she barricade the other two doors and take time for a survey.
The Tor beast was nothing more than a small mound of rich soil--as was the severed arm. The same decay had taken it as well. The beast had thoroughly destroyed her supplies, so nothing usable was left. Her thief was still her only hope. She found the source of the spring and drank, then she unblocked the doors and followed her nose.
It was puzzling. The air of this corridor did not include the musty scent, but was scented strongly with the smell of her thief. But it was the same one-- wasn't it?--that she had looped around just hours before. She paced slowly and silently. The only sound was an occasional grumble from her stomach. When her finger tips failed to find the chamber again, she began to doubt her memory.
Okay, this is a different corridor. I missed a turn somewhere. But this is my thief's trail. She slowed her pace, trying to coax images from the darkness and to read messages into the scents.
The air was more moist here than in the glowstone chamber. There was the scent of her thief and other people, but his was the strongest. There was no trace of the pack animal or the spices, but torches aplenty had passed this way. There were a dozen fainter smells, some too elusive for her to place, but a mental picture of the place could be etched.
Her thief was just that: a thief. It wasn't a case of two paranoid adventurers having a casual shootout with the victor taking the spoils. Her thief regularly patrolled this set of corridors. He used the hidey-hole in the glowstone chamber--and undoubtedly secret places in other chambers--to waylay adventurers who passed by, collecting any treasures from his victims. No one who prowled this world could have any pretense of a moral position, but knowing what kind of person he was, it made it a little easier to do what she planned.
Finally, the corridor branched at a T-junction. The scent was freshest to the left, so she followed it. Not a hundred yards past the branch was a chamber door blocked open. There was no light within. He was in there. She knew it.
She made no sound, and she had no light. There was a very good chance that he was not expecting anyone. Even if he expected her to follow, he had left her with torches. Could she sneak inside and surprise him? Did she have a chance? She had no supplies. He was probably well stocked. At any moment, he could close and bar the door against the creatures of the catacomb for his nighttime snooze.
She shed the sword and hid the glowstone where it would not betray her position. One dagger she held with her teeth. Carefully, she slipped through the doorway and flattened out against the wall on the inside. She intended to stay motionless like that until he betrayed his location.
Pfft! There was the sound and the sudden sting of a dart in her left hand.
Oh, no! Not again!
<SLIP TOR ARM BAND HALFWAY DOWN ARM, TWIST ARM BAND INTO TOURNIQUET WITH THE DAGGER IN MY TEETH. PLUCK OUT DART, FALL DOWN, HIDE LEFT ARM UNDER MY BODY>
Her arm and hand began to throb uncomfortably under her, but the drug was contained, at least for the moment. With her good hand she fished out the other dagger. She played 'possum.
The sound of a rustle was masked by the rocks. The thief was lighting a torch.
"Very good, whoever you are. And if you are still awake."
The light flared, and she closed her eyes to slits.
"Oh, it's you! Little Miss Ruby with all the nasty stuff in her pack. You must be pretty hard up to track me down for just a little trinket like that. Or are you one of the feuding, vengeful types?"
She spotted him working carefully around the rocks The patter was just to lull her, if she were faking it. He was keeping shelter until he could get a real good look at her. Lunae added some protective coloration. Her mouth slowly opened, and a trickle of spittle drooled out. Consciously, she checked every muscle to make sure it was relaxed. She made no effort to watch what he was doing, relying on her ears to place him.
It worked. He came from behind his cover and stood beside where she lay. He wedged the toe of his boot beneath her to turn her over. He pushed.
As her body rolled, her bound arm snapped out and grabbed his ankle. She yanked. Standing on one foot and burdened with his blowpipe and sword, he toppled. Her dagger caught him in the arm. It wrenched from her grasp. Grasping for anything that could be a weapon, She caught his blowpipe. She clubbed him with it. The slender tube snapped in two, but he slumped out.
She stood. He was crumpled and bleeding from the knife wound, unconscious on the ground. His torch flickered erratically where it had fallen on the stone floor.
Lunae labored light-headedly for breath. A familiar buzzing sounded behind her ears. The tourniquet must have slipped a little in the battle. Another twist on the dagger's handle tightened the force on the arm band painfully. She would have to let it go soon or risk damage to the arm.
The torch flared yellow when she picked it up. There were two doors and she blocked them both. This chamber was slightly smaller than the other, but it too had a spring. Again, there was a small but comfortable-looking hiding place.
Sprawled on the ground, Lunae had the opportunity to see how large her thief really was; and he was big. She stared at the oozing wound for a moment before tearing a strip from his shirt and placing a pressure bandage over the wound. He was still alive and too dangerous to leave alone. She sought one of his darts from the broken blowpipe and stabbed him in the arm with it. Tying him up would be best, but ... it was getting ... very difficult to move. Waves roared in her ears.
She slumped down and prepared to sleep it off. The dagger slipped a turn or two, loosening the band. Her arm and hand were an unhealthy blue.
Horror struck as she saw his eyes open, watching her. She tried to tighten the band and to get to her feet, but her legs wouldn't move. Slowly, he pulled himself up on his hands and feet and crawled towards her. She forced one knee up. Her leg was a lead weight.
"Sorry." His words came slowly. He was weak. "Immune to my own venom."
She was trapped by her own weight. One arm was paralyzed; one held desperately to the tourniquet. She couldn't get up.
He came relentlessly on. "Should have killed me. I should ... have killed you." His hand reached hers and forced the tourniquet loose. "Both ... too civilized ... for this game."
YOU HAVE BEEN RENDERED UNCONSCIOUS BY A POISON DART. YOU ARE LOGGED OFF CATACOMB FOR 01:30 MINIMUM. YOUR ACCOUNT BALANCE IS: $ 2.21 FOR TODAY $ 13.83 FOR THE GAME $ ??.?? TREASURE BONUS {RESERVED} {CONDITIONAL = 53}
###
"Still sightless, she tried to pace herself, so that striking a wall wouldn't hurt hew too badly"
ReplyDeletehew should be her I am guessing?
Thanks Mayhembob. It's corrected. Isn't it amazing how these things hide, for _years_, and then are totally obvious when someone points them out.
ReplyDeleteI always appreciate typo notices.
-- Henry