Henrik Saetre
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Qing's Quest book 2, Chapter 23: Taj
🕑 Added 2024-03-13 08:49:51 +0000 UTCThe metal door shook in its foundation as something heavy slammed into it.
“We’re trapped,” Taj said, rifling through the two guards’ pockets again. “Yet again!”
The elite growled and slammed on the sewer door.
“That door won’t hold for long,” Knut said.
How many more monsters were out there?
Qing stared through the metal bars at the dead guard by the stairs.
The key should be on him. All we have to do is catch the body…
Morgana’s whip cracked through the air, but came up short, fragments flying from the floor.
“Anyone have a rope?” Knut asked. “We can tie it around an arrow and I can shoot it into the guard.”
“Here.” Taj pulled out a piece he’d had wrapped around his waist.
As they tied it on, Qing went to stand by the iron bars, and grabbed one in each hand. Muscles straining, he pulled them apart, as if he was a circus artist. Ever so slowly, the metal bent, creaking. But then the back of his hands met the next bar. He let go, unable to bend them any further. There wasn’t enough room between the bars, only a hand’s breath. Even when bent, there wasn’t room to squeeze through. Instead, he put a foot on one bar and pulled on another.
Can I rip it out of the ceiling or the floor?
But, even standing on the bar and pulling the other, it bent, but wouldn’t give. He let go and dropped to the floor, panting.
Another slam on the door behind.
“Hurry!” Taj said.
“Strip the bodies,” Qing said. “We need the uniforms.”
“What we need is to get out of here!”
“We’ll get out. Just do it.”
The man hesitated for a moment, struggling with his fear. But Qing met his eyes calmly, and the man nodded, kneeling to undress the palace guards, all while saying a prayer for the dead.
Knut loosed the arrow, and it sank into the guard, trailing a rope.
“Great shot,” Morgana said.
But as they heaved on the body, metal clattered on stone, falling out of the man’s hand. The key lay flat on the ground.
“Damn it,” Knut said. “I can’t get an arrow through that. Can you toss something to pull it closer?”
“My whip isn’t long enough,” Morgana said.
“Can you pick the lock?”
“I’ll try.” She took out a tool kit, but with the lock set on the outside, she had to stick her hand out between the iron bars and work the lock reverse and blind. Metal scraped inside the lock. “I don’t think this is going to work,” she said through gritted teeth.
Qing shivered, and looked at the door. Frost covered it. Again it rang out like a gong. The colder it got, the stronger the metal would be, but also more brittle. And the frame was starting to bend.
Think… How to get out of here? Heated metal bends easier, maybe…
Qing blinded and called on the room’s remaining heat, feeding mana into his hand. With a snap of his fingers, he cast Firebolt, lobbing it straight at a metal bar. But it glanced off, leaving behind just a scorch mark. He couldn’t maintain a fire to warm the metal.
Maybe arcane energy?
He closed his eyes, ignoring the desperate chattering of his comrades and the screech of metal, and lifted the veil of the universe, siphoning off enough arcane energy to cast Magic Missiles. His palm nearly touched the metal as he cast, and one missile flew true, burning a fist-sized hole through the bar.
“Yes!” He bent the bars inward, one up, one down.
“Great,” Taj said. “Again!”
“I’ll have to destroy two more bars to make a hole big enough for us to get out. But, it’ll work. Just need a little time for spell cooldown.”
“Can’t you cast it here?” Morgana said, indicating the door’s lock.
But just then, metal tore as Frostfang smashed into the door behind them, and it bent inwards. The monster hissed and four fingers reached inside, each the length of Qing’s arm.
They scrambled back, squeezing their backs against the metal bars. The monster’s fingers scratched the floor as the hand retreated.
An eye appeared in its place, peeking through the opening.
Knut drew and fired in one smooth motion, but Frostfang dodged, and the arrow slid off the chain mail coif.
“We’re out of time!” Morgana said. “How long for the spell?”
“Too long! Are you sure you can’t get the lock open?”
“Give me an hour and I can do it,” she said. “But with that scratching at my back?” she shook her head.
Is there another way to get the key? He hadn’t tried smiting through the bars! But it would also destroy the cell, and then the monsters would swarm them. The bars won’t hold them, and we need a few minutes head start or we’re fucked. Maybe I can cast Grasp of the Dead to hold Frostfang, buying them some more t—
Qing’s eyes went wide.
“I’ve got it!” He activated Shadowsight, and pain clawed at the inside of his skull as if bits of ice had replaced his eyes. The dim light of the palace cellar dimmed, and Qing gasped, stumbling against the bars. Around him stood hundreds of ghosts, if not thousands. So tightly were they stacked, he had trouble seeing the room. One and all were staring at him.
How many have died here? Are these from across the whole palace? The sewer only?
They looked hungry, defeated.
These are the ghosts of slaves…
More and more flooded into the room, staring at him with naked hunger, and dread clawed at his neck. He had to be careful. There was more death energy here than he’d ever felt before. Even after the final battle in Shadowgrove when he had dissected the butchers, it had been nothing compared to this.
Ever so carefully, he searched among them, swiping his hand left and right like brushing apart curtains. Finally, he spotted his target and threw his will forward, careful of calling only on the one he wanted, challenging none other. The struggle was brief, and after casting Raise Skeleton, he release Shadowsight and breathed a sigh of relief.
Taj screamed, voice pitched high, and the scrambled for his spear. The guard by the stairs split open, flesh falling to the ground with a wet splatter, and his skeleton rose, blood spreading across the ground.
“Qing?” Knut asked. “Is this your doing?”
“Yes. Quiet.” Two fingers touching his temple, Qing sent mental commands. Bones clicked on the ground as it walked over and picked up the key.
“Oh, brilliant,” Knut said, “just brilliant.”
“Let’s see if this works too,” Qing said, sending another command.
Taj had crept into the corner and lay shaking.
Qing grabbed him by the arm, hauling him up. “Get ready.”
The skeleton unlocked the door, and Morgana burst through, followed by Knut, who had gathered the guards’ equipment. But as Qing moved to follow, a fist hit the metal door, bursting it wide open. Frostfang’s entire arm come in to swipe the room.
Qing’s quick reflexes proc’ed, and he threw himself down, pulling Taj with him. The arm flashed over their heads and Taj kicked at it while Qing grabbed at the metal bar next to the door, pulling them across the floor.
“Move!”
Frostfang’s arm slapped to the floor, narrowly missing them. Qing rolled, pulling Taj with him as Frostfang pulled its arm out. This was their chance. He jumped up, pulling Taj to his feet, and rushed through the open gate.
“Watch out,” Knut said, loosing an arrow.
Qing dove right while pushing Taj left, turning in the air to look behind. The monstrous, long-limbed hand of the elite tunnel stalker flashed in through the door. It was no longer a blind grab, as the tunnel stalker had laid down, looking along its right arm. The wrist bent, long fingers snatched, and Taj screamed, fingers closing around his legs.
Qing scrambled up, blinked, and cast Smite.
“No!” Morgana shouted, cracking her whip, but it glanced off the monster’s armor as it retracted its arm, Taj gliding across the floor. Qing rushed forward.
If I can just…
But by the time he was ready to strike, Taj’s entire lower body was through the opening.
“Save me!” he screamed, but Qing couldn’t. Magic missiles were still on cooldown and all a strike with the axe could reach was Taj’s head.
Should I kill him to save him the pain?
He couldn’t make himself do it, and Taj disappeared, pulled out through the destroyed door, into the monster-filled sewer.
Sadness and a feeling of failure struck Qing in the belly.
A black and yellow fletched arrow tipped with fire flashed past him and out the door, and Taj’s screams stopped.
Morgana ripped the key from Qing’s raised skeleton and slammed the door shut, locking it in a smooth motion.
Qing just stared into the sewer. It crawled with monsters.
How can we—
A roar interrupted his thoughts, and the lower half of Taj’s body came flying through the door. It slammed into the bars, blood splattering across the trio.
“We need to go,” Knut said, placing a hand on Qing’s shoulder.
“The bars won’t hold them for long, if at all.” Morgana gathered the equipment from the guards. They had two complete sets, and she was the first with a foot on the staircase.
“Qing,” Knut said, “snap out of it. We need to go.”
I was too slow. And now he’s dead. The monsters here…they are so powerful.
He felt his shoulders being shaken.
“Hey! Think of Cleo,” Morgana said. “Rufus is up here and this is our chance, but we’ve got to go now!” At the mention of Rufus’ name, anger flared through Qing. If it wasn’t for that bastard and whatever deal Rufus had made with the devil, Taj would still be alive.
“Go,” Qing growled, and they sprinted up the stairs.
With his last look behind, Qing saw the monsters trying to squeeze past Frostfang to get in.
Those bars won’t hold them. Sewer serpents might slide between them, tunnel stalkers can go through the hole I made. Will mud golems even by inconvenienced? And the bone collectors…
He huffed at the thought of gates even slowing them down.
“Hurry!” he said.
The stairs were long and moved in long circles, made to be easily defended from above. Yet they met nobody on the way. On the first landing, Knut and Morgana changed, Qing standing ready to hold back any monsters. He had checked the guard uniforms, and they were all level 17. He couldn’t use them.
I’m too underleveled.
As they continued up, Qing looked through his inventory. Now that he was level fifteen, he could equip two new items. First, he swapped out the Fang of the White Wolf that he’d got after defeating Grimhowl. He’d worn it for what felt like an eternity. In its place, he equipped the amulet from the Butchers.
Item: [Petra’s Tear, Level 15, Legendary] has been added to your inventory.
The physical manifestation of Petra Chamber’s unbroken spirit, one half of the horrific fusion known as the Butchers. This radiant gem, birthed in the throes of her tragic end, encapsulates her undying resilience. Petra’s Tear shimmers with ethereal light, and is not only a memento of heroism but also a bastion of protection. It allows the wearer to cast a powerful shield once per day, capable of blocking even the mightiest of attacks.
Use: Casts a powerful shield once per day
Part of the Chamber’s Set
Set bonus (1/2)
Increases daily use to two.
(Amulet, Accessory)
He would love to test the shield and figure out how to activate it, but since it could only be used once per day he couldn’t afford to. Hopefully, it would be like the belt or the dash on his sandals, and activate with a thought.
Next, he put on the Thawb of the Moon, which he had gotten as the quest reward from the True Moon tribe. When he’d reached level 15 a new item slow had opened for a cloak.
At least this will help cover up my armor while we are inside the palace, making me less recognizable.
Thawb of the Moon - Level 15 (Cloth Item)
Description: Woven from threads blessed by lunar priests, this elegant thawb is a relic of desert nomads. It adapts to the wearer’s body temperature, providing cool comfort in daytime and warmth during cold desert nights. Its silvery sheen is reminiscent of moonlight, reflecting a serene luminescence.
Attributes:
+20 Fire Resistance
+5 Cold Resistance
Lunar Veil - Once per day, under direct moonlight, the wearer can activate the cloak to become nearly invisible for a short duration.
(Thawb, Cloak)
Qing pulled a breath deep into his belly as the cloak settled around his shoulders and he felt his resistances thicken and stress receed.
But then Morgana cursed from up front.
“Damn!” she said. “The stairs end straight in a wall!”
“There has to be an opening,” Knut said. “Look for a switch, quick.”
Horrific sounds filled the stair behind them, and panic reared its ugly head.
They were trapped.
