He was about to call over to Majandra and enlist the half-elf’s aid in opening another of the trunks when a dull groaning sound filled the room. The floor of the chamber rocked violently, throwing Kaerion to his knees. As the room continued to tremble, several of the others lost their balance as well. Kaerion watched in horror as a few of the coffers tipped on their sides, disgorging asps.
A cry of pain distracted him from the advancing snakes. Looking toward the source of the cry, he saw that the guard investigating the tapestry had grabbed hold of the thick cloth to try and remain upright. The top of the tapestry had torn and, as the material fell to the floor, it transformed into a thick mass of green slime. Kaerion nearly disgorged his morning repast as the guards skin bubbled and melted beneath the viscous slime, adding to the creatures prodigious size.
The hiss of angered snakes brought his attention back to his own danger. Hastily, Kaerion scrambled to his feet and was surprised to find that the floor had stopped shaking. Landra and the remaining guard were hemmed in by a rapidly closing serpentine circle. Without hesitation, Kaerion launched himself at the attacking snakes, calling out to Bredeth for help. The two fighters cut a swath of death in their wake as gleaming swords bit deeply into scales. Though he had little time to spare for the other members of their group, Kaerion could see that Gerwyth, Majandra, and Phathas stood just outside the reach of the now-advancing slime. A moment later, a wave of light and heat burst over the room, as both the mage and the half-elf finished shouting words to their spells.
Kaerion ignored the blast, confident that his three companions had their situation under control. Two asps whipped their head around, striking out at his arm. Both sets of fangs rebounded sharply off of his mail shirt. Thankful that he had taken the time to adjust his armor this morning, Kaerion sent both heads whipping across the room with a single downward slice of his sword.
The next few moments became a rhythmic exchange of sword blows as Bredeth, Kaerion, Landra, and the last guard dispatched the asps with their blades. Silence descended upon the room once the last serpent had been killed. Kaerion looked over to the corner, breathing heavily, and saw that Majandra and Phathas stood near a smoldering lump of green slime. Gerwyth had maneuvered near the stone wall that the tapestry had previously covered. The elf was running his fingers lightly over the area.
“There’s something here,” the ranger said. “I think it’s the outline of a door.” He pressed the stone, and a door swung open. “There’s a passage here! I think we better—”
Kaerion couldn’t make out the rest, as another loud groaning reverberated throughout the room.
“Run!” he shouted, not waiting to see if anyone listened, and bolted for the door. Tripping and stumbling as the floor of the chamber once again trembled, Kaerion made it out of the room behind Majandra and Phathas. They stumbled into a small curved passage. Kaerion turned to help the rest of the group escape the trapped room and let out a relieved sigh as the last of the party emerged from the quaking chamber.
He closed the door and leaned heavily against it while his companions caught their breath. “It… was right… there,” he heard Majandra say through deep lungfuls of air.
“What was there?” Bredeth asked.
The bard held out her hand for a moment while she struggled to regain her composure. Kaerion could see more tears brimming in her almond-shaped eyes. “The warning,” she said at last. “‘Beware of trembling hands’… It was right there for us in the poem. If only I had—”
“Don’t,” Phathas scolded the elf in a sharp tone. “There was no way you could have known what ‘trembling hands’ meant. Remember: despite the help we’re receiving from Acererak’s little riddle, its meanings are intentionally left clouded. We’re not supposed to survive this expedition.”
“I agree,” Kaerion added with a sympathetic squeeze of her shoulder. “You’re being too hard on yourself. And I should know,” he continued with a rueful smile, “I’m an expert on such matters.”
Kaerion was rewarded with a half smile. Gently, he wiped the tears from the bard’s eyes and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Peace, Majandra. We’re almost finished.”
“Or we will be if you two would stop mooning over each other,” said Gerwyth, who softened his tone with an exaggerated raising of his pointed eyebrows. “Now let’s get moving. We have a job to do.”
The group moved out, this time at a slower pace. Though not injured in the trapped chamber, Phathas had still not quite recovered his breath. As a result, it took the party quite a bit of time to navigate the next set of descending stairs.
The passageway eventually reached a four-way crossroads, and Kaerion soon found himself thankful for the slow pace. Taking one step into the intersection, he turned to check on Phathas’ progress, and the simple maneuver saved his life. The floor beneath his extended foot gave way, opening up into a deep pit. Not quite overbalanced, he hung suspended on the lip of the hole, windmilling his arms before Gerwyth pulled him from the precipice.
Though not quite as imposing as the pit they had traveled over earlier, this obstacle slowed the party’s progress even more. After a brief consultation as to the direction they should move, they decided that Majandra, easily the lightest member of the expedition, would jump over the corner of the trap into the passageway. Bredeth would follow, and the two would function as anchors for a safety line of rope tied to the other, less deft members of the party. All in all, the crossing took several minutes.
Once across, Kaerion paused to light a new torch and surveyed the passageway. Although the tunnel continued off into the darkness, he thought he could see a door at the extreme limit of his vision. Calling the group together, he led the way. As expected, the passage ended in a thick stone door. Used to this procedure by now, Majandra walked toward the door without any prompting and gave it a careful examination.
“It’s free from any traps I can see,” she said when she had completed her search.
“That’s comforting,” Bredeth said. “What about the traps you can’t see?”
Kaerion could see that the dour noble’s tongue was beginning to erode the bard’s temper. The half-elf’s lips puckered in a sour expression, and Kaerion could almost see the stinging retort forming behind her lips. “If Majandra hasn’t discovered any traps, that’s good enough for me,” Kaerion said simply and opened the door—
Only to find himself staring at a blank wall.
The curses that followed took the form of several different languages, and Kaerion was surprised to hear the old mage mumble something indignant under his breath. It didn’t make any sense. They had been following Acererak’s riddle and it had led them true so far. Perhaps they were supposed to have taken another passage at the intersection. It seemed like the most logical thing to do, but something nagged at the back of his mind.
The others had already started to head back toward the intersection when he called out. “Hey! Didn’t the riddle say something about a false door?” he asked.
As one, the group turned and cast expectant glances at Majandra. Kaerion watched as the bard’s face assumed the slightly distant look he had come to associate with her ability to memorize words and information.
“Yes,” she replied, her voice rising with excitement. “‘If you find the false, you’ll find the true.’ Quick, Gerwyth!” she said in a voice worthy of a battlefield commander. “Take a look at the wall beyond the false door. You have the sharpest eyes among us.”
Kaerion watched as the elf gave Majandra an abbreviated bow and walked toward the dead end. The ranger ran his fingers along the surface for a few minutes, peering deeply at the stonework.
“Sure enough,” he said finally, “there’s a door here.”
The party let out a sigh of relief. Once more the riddle was guiding them true. Quickly they formed up as Majandra declared the door free from traps and pulled it open. The door grated heavily upon the raised stone of the floor, sending deep echoes down the corridor. Despite the chill, Kaerion felt sweat trickling down the small of his back. With an unconscious movement, he shrugged away the discomfort. They were closer than they had ever been to piercing the heart of this devilish crypt.