B2 – Chapter 18: The Tower’s Depths

Tristan got down the ladder and stepped foot onto the weird, bouncy stone surface just like the roof of the tower. It had a little bit of give, and as he cleared way for Obadai to come down, he took in the space he now stood in.

A dark room – which he could see thanks to his Elvish heritage – which was filled with bookshelves that were empty. A door stood, open, at the far end of the room. He could see blood, a small trail of it, leading through the doorway.

William looked back at Tristan, still illuminated by the light from above. “Do you happen to have a light, sir?”

Tristan shook his head, but held up his index finger, curling his fingers into the palm, and wrapping his thumb around the edge of his knuckles. Spinning his essence crucible, he pushed the essence into his fingertip. “Entzünde und lodere, finde ein Zuhause auf meiner Haut und verbrenne alles, was ich berühre.” (Ignite and blaze, finding a home upon my skin, and burn all that I touch). A silver flame burst from his finger just above the gauntlet’s tip; crimson, black, and blue sparkles crackled from it.

The silver glow gave off an ethereal light that illuminated the chamber to the equivalent of a torch, the flickering flame casting shadows across the ground. Obadai got down the ladder behind Tristan. “Well, lead the way, Pathfinder.”

William smiled and began to lead the way. While they walked down the corridor and through an undecorated hallway, Tristan glanced back at Obadai and spoke in Demon’s Tongue. “Quand pourrons-nous ouvrir une plongée dans le royaume des Fées?” (When can we open up a Delve into the Fey Realm?).

Obadai shook his head, “Nous ne pouvons pas le faire tant que nous n’avons pas atteint la terre ferme. J’ai besoin d’une grande surface pour exécuter le sort.” (We cannot until we get to solid ground. I need a large area to perform the spell).

Tristan nodded and faced forward, hearing the light flapping of Felicity’s wings as she came around a corner and landed on his head. “Welp, it’s a dark tower that looks abandoned. I saw a few locked doors and did not open them, because they smelled…fishy. Like literal fish.”

William led them down corridors, past rooms that were open and rummaged through. He was rattling off what they found in each; “Some candlesticks and wax in there. Something like leather in that one. A whole bunch of ink in that one, but it had all gone dry.” He kept going, and their descent down the tower became quite a bore. Tristan kept his eyes to the floor and spotted tiny drips of blood until they faded away. He presumed from the attacker’s weapon, and by this point they had sheathed it or cleaned it off.

Tristan smelled it. What Felicity had described. A horrible, stinking, rotten fish smell. “Do you smell that?” he asked.

“Yup!” Felicity replied.

“Smell what?” William replied.

Obadai shook his head, “I smell nothing. Either. What is it?”

“Rotten fish,” Tristan replied as he drew his sword.

“And only the Elf can smell it?” William asked. “Weird. Well, we are almost at the point that we left off for the day. An intersection with closed doors.” He led them down a set of stairs, and as they descended the scent grew stronger, to the point that Tristan had to breathe through his mouth to avoid retching. They reached a landing that was austere and had three doors leading in different directions – to the left, right, and dead ahead.

Felicity gently pulled on Tristan’s hair, towards the left door. “That’s where it smells the worst.”

Tristan nodded and walked over to it. “Obadai, have a spell ready.”

“Already on it,” he replied.

“Remember, there’s Pathfinders who are missing – three of them – and whoever stabbed William. Identify targets before striking them.” Tristan reached towards the door and stopped as the hackles on the back of his neck stood on end. Instinctively, he pushed essence from his crucible and into his armor and weapon, increasing his defensive covering and increasing his reach. He took a step back and took up a defensive stance. Was that the Lucky Instinct spell? He thought.

Obadai cleared his throat, “What’s wrong?”

“I got a weird feeling,” Tristan replied. “William…open the door.”

William looked at Tristan, and then his eyes went to Tristan’s knife. “Mind if I use that?”

Tristan nodded, “Grab it.” The young man did so, and flipping it in his grip, he walked to the door, gripped the handle, lifted the latch with his thumb, and then pulled it open as he darted to the side.

The wave of stench that hit the trio finally got to his allies, and both began making gagging, coughing sounds. Tristan’s armor, surprisingly, seemed to suppress the bad smell, and he was not a victim to it. But he heard Felicity throw up and felt it splatter against the back of his armor. “I’m going upstairs!” she shouted as she flew off.

Tristan’s light illuminated the dark space, but he did not need it to see the gruesome fate that befell those within. There were three bodies – distinct bodies, and they were absolutely eviscerated. They were covered with lacerations that were easily a few inches deep, and all seemingly along where their arteries were. They had been stripped of all their gear and clothing, and were strewn about the room as if they had been thrown across it – the blood splatters on the walls attesting to their grizzly fate.

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William let out a cry of sorrow and turned away, “That’s them,” he choked out. “Gods, what happened to them?”

Tristan walked in, but stopped in the doorway as the heckles on his neck raised again. Backing up, he peered all around the room. I don’t see anything, he thought. But this doesn’t smell like decay. The scent was fish. There has to be something else in here. He stepped back a little bit, “Archon, incinerate the room.”