Drinal (EQ) – Luclin's Light Part 2

At the same moment Polin was waiting impatiently, a Gnome on the other end of Nektulos was exploring the craggy rock face, when happenstance allowed him a discovery in a place he had passed a hundred times before. The light from the rising Luclin allowed him to spy a passage barely big enough to let him pass. Vines and debris had so well concealed the tunnel, that even standing where he currently was, he never would have seen it without the odd angle of light.

His curiosity working overtime, he decided to explore this new found opening. Inching himself through, he found he had come upon a long-abandoned path leading out of sight. Brandishing a torch from his well-stocked adventure's pouch, he followed the dampened path.

Shortly he came into a grotto which must have been the center of a past confrontation, if the scattered, rusting equipment was any indication. Inspecting the area, he saw nothing of value to be gained. He decided to expand his journey. He felt almost as if he was being pulled by some unexplained source as something heightened his sense.

His searching revealed another passage, the entrance of which looked burned, possibly by fire or lightning. The troubling thing was the marks seemed to indicate the damage flowed into the corridor, not away from it. Curiosity drove him to explore further. He cautiously moved forward, his eyes darting back and forth in the dimming light, as the small amount of light was slowly being devoured by the ever-increasing shadows. Every step seemed to gobble part of the light of the torch away until there was only enough light to see his next step. His heart was beating so hard, the sound echoed against the stone passage like a drummer sounding a battle charge. Its effect on him was just as strong as he hurried his pace, until he nearly ran into a blackened, metal door bearing the marks of a half-forgotten lore.

Wishing he had paid more attention in history class, he began to examine this strange obstruction. The portal was definitely Dwarven make, although the script was unlike anything he had seen before. Moving his torch about to examine the entirety of the massive door, he discovered a recess near the bottom. Covered in dust, sitting squarely in the middle of the door, he saw an old book. "What could this be?" he asked himself. Seizing the book to examine it, he felt his senses awaken further, as if he had been prodded by the tines of an Elven Wizard's staff.

A sound of unknown quality reached his ears as a blast of moldy air wafted around the door. As he held the book, he saw a lock on the aperture. It seemed to be a magical lock, glowing steadily from its once-hidden location. His eyes widened in fascination at this.

He debated with himself over taking the book and leaving, but his eyes could not leave the glowing lock – it was like entrancing and alluring. He inched closer, his eyes fixed on this pulsing aura. Slowly, ever so slowly, his hand reached out toward the lock. The throbbing aura became slightly brighter, more captivating than before, as his fingers came within inches of this strange and wondrous item. Cupping the lock in his hands he gently raised it towards him, as it struggled against the hasp of the door. "Beautiful," he thought. "What can be behind this door that is guarded by such a lock?"

As he pondered such questions, the brilliance of the lock began to fade. As if drained by the strain of time, the luster faded and blinked out, and the lock slowly fell apart in his hands. Once freed of the lock's control, the door slowly came ajar. Released from the magical confinements, a horde of spiritual wisps sprang forth from the small gap in the door, as the howls of a thousand souls began to echo through the darkened passage.

He turned to run, but it was too late. His feet were trapped. The half-living mist emanating from the crypt produced an envelopment that held him as tight as a tinkerer's vice. As he struggled to free himself, he became aware that the door had slowly opened, revealing the dank and ominous interior of the crypt. Within the mist of the crypt he sensed something approaching from within.

Terror gripped his heart, preventing even a whimper from escaping his trembling lips. Two glowing eyes, like the embers of red-hot coals, stared unblinkingly at his helpless frame. He began to beg, to plead with whatever was in the mist, to allow him to go. He screamed that he would tell no one of his adventure, nor reveal the presence of this place.

Receiving no reply, he struggled to free himself again. He failed to see the swarm of undead swiftly rushing towards him from the interior of the crypt. The last thing he ever knew was the sting of a thousand blows from lethal swords, which appeared at the ends of fleshless fingers. Raising a small cloud of dust as it settled onto the crimson steps of the long-abandoned crypt, the ancient book was opened by a gust, causing the pages to scatter to the howling wind.

To be continued…

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