Chapter 29 – Puzzling

“Oh great, another empty room,” Lillia said as the recessed door swung open to reveal unending darkness and flagstone. Before walking through the door, Lillia poked her head through, craning her neck to look up at the ceiling. She didn’t see anything, but she stabbed the bardiche straight up into the air above the door. Nothing.

Lillia swung the blade to either side at both head height and waist height. On the final swing, she went too far and metal smashed against stone. The impact rattled up the shaft and Lillia almost dropped the Bramble Slasher.

“Shoot, shoot, shoot.” Lillia pulled the weapon in, checking the blade to see whether there was any damage. Havoc would have killed her if he’d seen that happen but as long as there was no damage, there was no way he could ever know.

It was also important that her weapon be in working condition but that wasn’t top of mind.

Lillia checked her inventory one last time before stepping the full way into the room.

She had pulled out most things and tried them on in her effort to be Havoc-like before getting distracted by the prospect of something new from Thorne. In Lillia’s defense she had been correct. Lillia had new equipment from her dealings with Thorne, which meant checking had been the right call.

And that she definitely shouldn’t have checked her inventory again before opening the door. Right?

This was why Lillia needed Havoc. Her pretending to be Havoc was only half as good, if that.

Lillia pulled out one of the feathers from the Ambusher. They had embarrassed her once but that didn’t mean she could never wear them as shoes. Lillia closed her eyes and crushed the Ambusher’s feather in her hand. Dust. Chitterpede boots breaking down. Blah blah.

Lillia stiffened as the feathers tickled her thigh. She was now in long, tall lace-up tan boots. The inside felt like leather but on the outside it was all carefully sculpted ambusher feathers, even up past the top of the inner lining. Lillia bent her knee inward to look at the lacing on the side of the boot. Thank goodness they came pre-laced. She didn’t have any of her aides here to do them up for her.

Lillia checked both sides of the boots then the soles. They had a small heel similar to the riding boots. It didn’t seem like the dungeon was going to let her get away with a flat any time soon.

[Plainsrunner OTKs]
[Equipment – Boots]
[Twice per day, kick in the air for an extra ‘Flap’ of lift.]
[The line between a successful hunt and an empty stomach is often measured by the wingbeats of the hunter.]

Lillia read it and then read it again. ,

“That seems unsafe.”

It felt foolish to leave a skill like that untested, but on the other, it didn’t seem like something she could afford to waste. At least not until she was closer to her hearth.

They at least seemed more useful than the chitterpede boots on a flat surface where she didn’t want to make too much noise.

Satisfied with her extremely feathery look, Lillia crept deeper into the room. Each step, she swung the bardiche around as she turned, pointing it towards each and every shadow out in the darkness. Four steps in the door closed behind her. Slowly. Politely.

Light erupted into the room. But unlike most of the dungeon’s spaces, it wasn’t ambient light. The light was coming from a set of crystal chandeliers hung on a ceiling thirty-odd feet above. Each of the chandeliers was an intricate wrought-iron creation, laden with candles and dripping with melted wax. Dozens of glittering crystals hung from each of the chandeliers, scattering the already flickering firelight around the room.

Further into the room, which was smaller than Lillia thought, there was a pair of wooden tables. They were both attached to the floor like the entire room had been carved from a single chunk of stone as opposed to being built piece by piece. Lillia’s heart fluttered. The food was missing but each of the tables had been set for an intricate feast.

Finally on the far wall there was a recess similar to the one that had housed the door leading to this room, but there was no door to speak of at the moment.

Lillia relaxed her grip on the bardiche enough that she could feel how clammy her palms had gotten. She allowed the tension to release from her spine and shoulders. Knowing the dungeon, Lillia wasn’t out of the woods yet but at least she was in a familiar setting. She’d fought at dinner before — verbal sparring matches, mind you — but words could be fights.

Having done this during the Spellmite Architect’s challenge, Lillia followed her playbook for success in rooms that didn’t explain themselves. The princess rounded the room, following the wall with her right hand and keeping the Bramble Slasher trained on the center.

Eventually, Lillia was back at the door. Nothing had happened. The princess sighed. The whole idea of being thorough was that something happened and rewarded the thoroughness. So far nothing had been waiting to jump her at the door and nothing had happened from circling the room. Lillia could have just walked to the center of the room and touched everything on the table and she would have been fine.

She would have been better than fine. She would have been seated somewhere nice instead of pressed against a stupid rock wall in a stupid dark corner, as if she were avoiding everyone at a dinner party.

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Lillia marched to the center of the room, letting the Bramble Slasher fall to her side as she did. As she approached, the tables set themselves. Plates, forks, knives, wine goblets, steins, serving dishes, napkins and spoons swapped from stone to metal and wood. Lillia crossed the last steps faster, hoping that food would appear. It didn’t.

Each of the placements was intricately set. The napkins were carefully folded. The goblets were freshly polished. Lillia walked along the table, taking in the atmosphere she missed from her life back on the surface. They had dessert spoons. Was there going to be a cake if Lillia waited long enough? She missed cake.

Lillia missed a lot of things. A lot of things that should have made cake seem trivial. But at least, in that moment, Lillia missed cake.

While daydreaming, Lillia paused her circle around the table at the far end, where a respected diplomat may have sat. Something was off. Lillia swapped the knife and the fork. They were in the wrong place. What a faux pas.

Once Lillia had fixed the cutlery she heard a resounding bang behind the far wall. The princess jumped, pulling out her bardiche and pointing it towards the door. Wait—there was a door there now.

Where there had simply been a recess, there was now a wooden door. To the untrained eye, it may have seemed to match the first, but the hinges and handle were polished, and someone had taken significantly better care of the door itself.

“Why here? Why now?”