Halloween D&D

[dev_chieftain]

Ms. Jubilation Apogee
Castling Press
Foundry City, Diora

Update incoming on events astounding Sweetgrove town borderlands watch post

Rutherford Banjo

Charge to Mr. R. Banjo
Sweetgrove, Diora

(Also available to read here)

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A Weighty Letter Arrives for Ms. Apogee - Part three, conclusion

[dev_chieftain]

As you might imagine, the magic maze in which I had found myself was vast and made the heart falter, frightened of what lay ahead. I had packed ten torches, a bedroll, and my shortbow and sword, but I had nothing that might help me navigate a maze. I thought long and hard, and then came alight with an idea I had learned from you! So, since I was tired and suspected only ghosts or my other friends might come upon me, I lay down to sleep in the tomb, and let my torch burn itself all the way out.

When I awoke, I was still alone, but upon lighting my second torch I was gifted with the use of the first to mark my path, as it was now little more than a stick of charcoal. Every few feet I made my mark upon the wall-- an arrow, pointing in the direction I was going, so I would know if I looped back and went again the same way I had already gone.

I will not bore you with the extensive details of the twists and turns, but suffice it to say there were many dead ends, and more than once I came upon traps much like the one I had seen when first we entered the tomb, laid with spikes and frightening to behold.

When I finally came free of the maze, it was to a room with eight doors. I marked the door through which I had come, and began to examine each of the others. They were not identical, but there were two of each make, opposite each other. Thus, the door through which I had exited was inlaid with inscriptions in the stone; to its right, one that had been inlaid with brass, instead; one further, a door that was plain and unmarked; and the last two were inlaid with polished, precious stones. Just as I was about to begin testing these doors, the one opposite mine slammed open before the fist of none other than Goodknight, who was closely followed by Jane. Exultant, we welcomed each other back, glad to see we had all navigated the maze successfully.

This did not stop us from wondering at the puzzle before us, however. I examined each of the remaining doors, confused, but it was Jane who took us to the next step: from one of the plain doors, a slight, unpleasant smelling draft came through. From all the rest, there were slight shafts of light-- a pale blue light under the gem-encrusted doors, a pale red one under the other plain door, and pale green beneath those inlaid with brass.

I said that this must mean we did not wish to go through the plain doors; one clearly led deeper, as it smelled foul and had no light; the other, possibly to a fire or a kitchen, and no ghostly kitchen has ever appealed to me. We thought longer upon it, and Goodknight shook her head, answering me: "Do you not see? It is the dark door that leads us to the swamp. The draft proves it: we must go there."

Thus saying, she opened the plain door with the draft, and stepped back out into the very swamp we had started! I was awed, and followed in wonder as these two brave warriors led us back to the now peaceful town of Sweetgrove. They had not rested, as I had, and so were tired and uninterested in talking; still, I could not resist the question of why. Why had the spirit of the librarian's grandfather tried to trap us there beneath the swamp beside him? Why had he laid out the labyrinth to delay us from returning?

We could not determine the answer, and went on in silence, until daybreak came and our return to Sweetgrove came with it. The librarian, bless his hopeful heart, had been waiting for our return and embraced each of us, eagerly, heedless of the grime and muck of battle and swamp upon us. We related our deeds, and confirmed that the flowers had been laid upon the grave as he had asked.

Still, I wondered: why the labyrinth? What had been the cause? Until I asked the man outright.

He looked haunted, and answered that his grandfather was often up to such tricks. Only Jane had anything to say to this unsettling news, suggesting in her raspy voice, "Guarding a dead city must be fierce lonesome, I reckon. It's an easy thing to understand."