Gerwyth’s twisted expression confirmed the guard’s opinion. “Smells like Kaerion after an all-day binge,” he quipped. Ignoring the fighter’s growl of protest, the elf continued, “Well, only one way to find out what’s in it.”
With a quick word of warning, the ranger kicked over the barrel. It spun twice, overbalanced by the moving liquid within it. With a crash, the wooden container tipped over, spilling rank liquid on the floor.
“Empty,” Majandra said, as she peered into the fallen barrel.
“This one’s too full to tip over,” Landra said, eyeing the second barrel distastefully.
One of her guards came forward, carrying the splintered end of a pole that had been cut in half by the swinging door of a pit. Gently, he dipped the pole into the barrel and began to stir. Kaerion watched apprehensively as the man continued his experimentation.
“Hey,” the guard said, “I think something’s in here.”
Hand easing toward his scabbard in case of trouble, Kaerion approached the barrel. Bredeth did the same. After several tries, the guard managed to ease whatever the barrel was hiding up along its side and, with a deft twist of his wrist, knocked it out of the barrel.
The object hit the floor with a metallic clatter. Golden metal flashed in the light. Kaerion was relieved to see what looked like a section of a gold-wrought key lying on the floor. He was about to bend down and pick it up when he heard Majandra’s cry of warning.
Straightening quickly, he managed to see the guard withdrawing the pole from the barrel. Thin smoke writhed off of the pole’s edge. Faintly, Kaerion could hear a sizzling sound, as whatever fluid was in the container started eating away at the wooden implement.
“Acid,” Bredeth said, and Kaerion could hear the man’s distaste for the gruesome trap. “I bet whatever’s in the third barrel is equally as dangerous.”
“Indeed,” Phathas said, moving slowly toward the object in question. “I suggest that the rest of you stand back.”
Kaerion obeyed the mage and took several steps backward. The others did likewise, until the mage stood alone before the third barrel. Grasping his staff in one hand, the spellcaster raised his other hand, palm up. A faint hum filled the room, and Kaerion watched in amazement as the thick, gelatinlike substance floated toward the ceiling. When the floating mass hung safely in the shadows of the room, Majandra moved forward and looked into the now-empty barrel.
“Here is the other section of the key,” she said as she bent over and scooped up the golden mass.
Quickly, she brought her section of the key over to where the first piece lay. Standing over her, Kaerion watched as she placed both sections together. With a single bright flash of light, the two sections fused together. Smiling, the bard stood up, holding the remade key in her hands.
“We’ve stumbled onto the next section of Acererak’s poem,” she declared, as Phathas lowered the floating jelly back into the barrel. “‘These keys and those are most important of all,’” the bard intoned. “That means there are probably a number of keys we’ll find hidden in various places before we get to Acererak’s crypt.”
“But what do we do once we’ve collected them?” asked Bredeth, as he gazed in distaste at the gruesome remnants of the preparation room.
“I have no idea,” Majandra admitted. “But the poem has steered us straight so far.”
“Unless Acererak’s words have been guiding us just to lead us to a gruesome end,” Bredeth said.
“A possibility,” Kaerion broke in, unwilling to have the party’s energy and focus distracted by another argument, “but so far following the ancient poem has kept us safe. It’s only when we explore areas of the tomb not written of by that mad wizard that we encounter danger. Given a choice between a passage earmarked in the poem and one not, I would take the one called out by Acererak.”
“Agreed, friend Kaerion,” Phathas said, as he drew closer. “Let us follow the mage’s twisted words as we’ve done, and deal with the consequences as they come.”
With that decision, the group assembled into their regular order, with Kaerion and Gerwyth in the front, and proceeded out of the arched opening. The dark passage quickly turned and the party descended a long set of stone stairs. Their passage disturbed centuries of dust, kicking up clouds of moldering particles that stung Kaerion’s nose.
Beyond the stairs, the passage turned once again, and Kaerion brought the group to a sudden halt. Before them, soaking up the light of their torches, loomed a wide pit. Kaerion moved to the edge and looked down. Thick spikes jutted up from the floor of the pit, glinting in the illumination like the razor sharp jaws of a predator.
Gerwyth moved up beside him and whistled appreciatively at the sight of the trap. “This will take some doing to get around,” he said.
“Not really, Gerwyth,” the bard said. “I can easily levitate over to the other side and rig a rope that the rest of you can use to avoid the pit.”
“There is another solution, my dear,” Phathas said smiling. “Rather than risk triggering any other traps Acererak built into the pit, why not simply walk?”
Kaerion saw the bard’s lips turn up in an answering smile. “That is an altogether satisfactory solution,” she said, and then beckoned the others away from the pit.
Once again the mage made his way forward. Leaning upon his staff, he thrust one hand forward, fist closed, while the words of his spell tumbled forth in a torrent of rhythm and twisted cadence. Phathas whispered the final word of the incantation and opened his fist, palm facing down. Immediately, the area directly above the pit shimmered. Gradually, the energy coalesced into a solid stone block that completely covered the pit.
Kaerion took a tentative step forward. Satisfied that the new stone would hold, he walked forward, head shaking in amazement. For all of the mage’s physical frailty, Kaerion was completely in awe of the amount of power the wizard had at his disposal. Without Phathas’ assistance, the whole expedition might have met a gruesome end long ago. It was a testament to the wizard’s commitment and skill that they had made it this far.
With the others following, the group made its way over the pit and walked another hundred or so feet before the passageway ended abruptly. Confident that this wasn’t simply a dead end, Kaerion asked the others to break up and search for any hidden exits. This time, it was Majandra who spotted the secret door in the north wall of the passage. A quick twist of a loose stone in the wall, and the door swung open, revealing a small antechamber—and another door opposite.
Motioning Majandra up to check on the door, Kaerion drew his sword and was relieved to find that Gerwyth had already fixed an arrow to his bow. The half-elf’s search revealed nothing unusual about this portal. Conveying her discovery with a simple sign, the bard opened the door.
Kaerion could see that the room beyond was simply appointed with tapestries along the walls. As the party moved in for a better look, it soon became clear that the room had been used mainly for storage. Dented urns and chipped vases littered the floor of the room, while four rotting sofas and several garish, throne-like chairs lay in a heap in the room’s center. Motioning for the others to join him, Kaerion moved to a collection of trunks and coffers that lay strewn about a small area of the room.
Within minutes, the entire party had fanned out. Unwilling to turn a blind eye to the potential hidden dangers lurking in this room, Kaerion kept a watchful eye on everyone, even as he opened trunk after trunk—each containing only air.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Landra and another guard investigating one of the coffers, while a third one gazed at the tapestries hanging from the walls. Even from his vantage point, Kaerion could see that the tapestries depicted underwater scenes. Dyed with rich greens and blues, the kelp-covered rocks and coral beds stood out in stark relief to the gray stone of the room’s floor.