Certain major characters are not mine. Language and other stuff warning, just to be safe...
- x x -
Exile, in Parts Unknown - - -
- Nameless
After edging into the next room a bit, afraid at every step he was waiting there, I noticed the light was less dim out here. Still red, but not dark as the area by the archway. I looked around, and thanked all the gods that I was alone.
This looked like a private study and bedroom for a mage, about five by ten yards. I saw no other exit. There was a pedestal near the right wall with a padded stone bench, with a fist sized crystal sphere on it. It was attached to the pedestal when I tried to remove it.
The left wall had several large bookcases, but the tomes crumbled to dust when I touched a few. I felt a pang of regret for whatever knowledge or spells had been in them, once. But I doubted I could kill him because he was sensitive to paper mold. There were four cases along that wall, part of the wall itself. I peered closely, but could see no cracks that would indicate there might be a secret door or panel.
In the middle of the lit area was an inscribed circle. It looked part circle of protection, part gate. It wasn't glowing, but I decided to not step inside it until all other options have been tried.
The room itself had some of the hallmarks of elven construction like elaborate tiling made for centuries of use, a certain sparseness and elegance that my foster father kept hoping my bedroom would achieve, and solid construction to reduce maintenance. But here there was dust on many of the sheltered surfaces and shelves that was an inch thick. Elves didn't care for being underground that much, Sand's lust for knowledge made him an exception to that since dungeons often had new magic. This didn't look anything like the few drow artifacts I'd seen. No spiders or squidgy things. But if this place was that old and unused, whoever built this wasn't going to show up and let me out before the ass got back.
There was a large stone bin shaped from the right wall. There was a thin seam and wedge showing where the top would lift up, but no visible latch or lock. The hinge or hinges were out of view.
The last item was a huge bed, with a number of trellis-like frames extending from it where the headboard should be. Large parties could have taken place there, I would think optimistically on that.
Hmm. Nothing immediately useful so far to help me. Only the shelves, the bench, and the bin seemed to hold any promise. First, the shelves needed to be examined to see if they had anything I missed on my first appraisal.
It took me a while, the spirit brought the bowls to me here, instead of the cell. I saw that it passed right through the one wall. I stopped sifting through the shelves to double-check that wall section. Still solid, sounding the same as walls on the other sides of the room. So whatever was beyond the shelves wasn't close. I regretted my lost magic scrolls, any number of them would have helped me, but I'm sure the ass had kept them for himself.
I sighed, not that they would have done me much good right now, I was still wearing the damn ankle shackles that absorbed my little magics.
Finishing the bookshelves, I got lucky. High up on the third bookcase was a crusty bowl with a cutlery set. The fork was pitted and bent badly as soon as I tested it. The knife was also pitted, but the spoon seemed still solid, perhaps even enough to take a slight edge. I had plenty of rock to use to sharpen it. Maybe I could use one of these as tools to find out what was in that bin. The bowl's contents looked mummified, and as similarly non-lethal as the book dust.
Next was the bench. Heavy, but not that big. I could just lift it, which told me I had lost some strength. Adrenaline would help if I wanted to use it as a weapon. I practiced lifting it a couple times, even if it was not the most handy of weapons.
I had just gotten back to the bin and was in the process of ruining the knife while trying to pry it open when I heard a hum coming from the magic circle. So it was some kind of gate or teleportation linkage. If I could just get him from behind, he would never be a threat to m... anyone again.
Scuttling over to the bench I lifted it over my head and carried it over closer to the magic circle. It seemed as light as a feather, especially when it hit his head. He was stunned, and I hit him an extra time or two to keep him that way, giggling like a loon. Then I stopped myself and flipped the bench and sat it on his chest and arms so he couldn't move. I perched on it to ensure there was too much weight for him to move his lungs, and his breathing got shallow. I then happily completed my oath with the old spoon, as he turned blue and tried to scream without air. I enjoyed it, though a tiny part of me was screaming at me silently. I then cut his throat, and calmly watched as he bled out.
Feeling safe for the first time in ages, I decided to sleep on the bed. I could worry about escape later.
I was awoken by his laughter. "Excellent, excellent! You are nothing anymore." And his whip began to crack. I curled up away towards the magic circle, so as not to look at him, and the bloodied corpse there looked nothing like him... In fact he looked like any young small town potion brewer. I shuddered and closed my eyes, feeling the darkness within me. I had become what I fought. I was lost and truly separated from the light and all I cared about. I wanted to un-become, and almost welcomed this beating. I fled into the blackness, howling.