Trickster’s Song [A LitRPG Portal Fantasy]

Chapter 168: 9.10 – Secrets of Tarin-Tiran


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Robin crept carefully forward, every breath carefully controlled, every step as light upon the stone as he could make it. He and the rest of his party were moving slowly and quietly through the depths of Silinir.

Whether or not the dungeon sensed their presence they did not know. Ruprecht, unable to accompany them, had agreed to attempt to distract Silinir by expending some of his store of accumulated energies, conjuring new monsters—the dungeon had been evasive on the details of what kind—to test the other dungeon’s boundaries, in a way that Ruprecht assured them would have Silinir thinking an interloper dungeon was planning to attack and make a play for territory.

If Ruprecht could keep Silinir’s direct attention off of them, they stood a chance of slipping through hostile territory without facing a deadly encounter. They were deep within Tarin-Tiran now, and the monsters Silinir had on these levels were likely to be formidible, to say the least.

Rerebos, invisible, was scouting ahead on silent wings. Jhess was checking every inch of the corridor for traps, Savra assisting. The coin almost never stopped spinning in the air, the seeress consulted it so heavily.

Robin massaged his left shoulder with his right hand. Nothing had happened by the strain of constant focus was beginning to wear on all of them. The bard consulted his mental map. And they had so much further yet to travel.

It was a narrow extent of Silinir’s domain that Nilsiir had directed them to. Several tunnels, a few large chambers, and the could be through to the pocket that Fiana and Nilsiir had ascertained contained one of Melusk’s safe-houses.

That the location was free of Silinir’s influence was apparently a big clue.

They had made it down long stretches of corridor, passed through one large chamber, avoided or otherwise circumvented a few traps and avoided one combat by hiding in Robin’s illusions. The lone tuvyux has passed by, nearly suffocating them with its stench, but at least that meant it couldn’t smell them over itself.

Jhess’s hand shot out in a signal. There was another large cavern ahead. Robin stopped moving long enough to look ahead through Rerebos’s eyes. The little dragon had paused before entering, but was close enough to see much more than Jhess could. Especially as he could see through the dark as if it were nothing.

Rerebos couldn’t see everything; the entrance to the cavern was a large crack with an overhang above it. There was no way to tell what might be lurking above, and most of the vision to either side was obstructed by the stone.

What he could see of the floor ahead, though, was worrying. It was relatively smooth but laced throughout with fairly regular sized holes in different diameters. The largest Robin estimated at the size of his fist. Not really a worry for falling through, unless the stone was weak enough to collapse from their weight, but the tuvyux had come from this direction. Robin could even see some glimmering slime from its passage. If that hadn’t collapsed the place, they should be safe.

Unless there was some kind of dungeon-invader trigger to it.

Robin left Rerebos’s senses and advanced with the rest of the party, moving carefully as Jhess checked for traps.

Jhess glanced at him and made a gesture when the party was gathered about the entrance. The bard nodded and flexed his hands, conjuring some test illusions. A small mouse scurrying around the edges of a few of the closer holes. A few quiet noises. First just some skittering. Then the sound of footsteps on the stone. Finally, Robin pulled a small stone out of his storage and tossed it into the room. It clattered across the floor before hitting the rim of one of the holes and falling down into it.

The party stilled, cold and motionless as the grave, waiting to see what response, if any, the pebble provoked.

The sound of cold scales over stone whispered faintly through the cavern. There was something in those holes, certainly, What it was, however, refused to reveal itself.

Send a mage light over the hole.

Robin used [Lesser Phantasm] to paint the small words in the air in front of Drev. Maybe that would provoke more of a response than his illusions.

The mage nodded slightly and soon a bobbing sphere of light was dancing through the cavern. The shadows it cast, through Robin and Rerebos could see through them, made it difficult to tell if there was something moving in a particular hole of it it was just the interplay of light and shade.

Can you scout inside, just up and over the overhang? Slow and careful. Robin mentally sent to Rerebos. I can promise you many shinies.

Many, MANY shinies, came the reply, tinted with equal parts resolution and anxiety and the hunger for lost power.

Robin imagined that yes, if one were accustomed to the might of a dragon, being trapped in a smaller version of your own body on an alternate plane would make one long for what had been, if not lost, temporarily set aside in the pursuit of other gains.

To Rerebos’s credit, he sent Robin a pulse of defiant courage and then snuck into the cavern proper. The bard shared his senses as he did so, getting a wider view.

There was nothing on the ledge above the entrance, thankfully, though there was a bit of hair and signs that something occasionally laired here. Or rested here.

The holes were confined to the floor. There was no sign of them on the ceiling—nor of anything else, really. Robin looked at the lack of stalactites with some apprehension. Something about the whole cavern was just a bit too sculpted. Could mean it was a special project of Silinir’s.

Is that another ledge above the exit? We should check that out.

Rerebos grumbled at Robin’s implied order, but after carefully checking around, the little dragon flew across the cavern to inspect the ledge over the exit.

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It was almost the mirror of the other, down to the small hairs scattered about. Though both the ledges were far more natural looking than the cavern itself. They had rough stone instead of smooth, and natural outcrops that might have once been stalagmites…actually, that gave Robin an idea!

Come back to the rest of the party. Robin said to Rerebos.

Rerebos sent assent and carefully began to flit back and Robin relinquished the little dragon’s senses and turned to his party, conjuring an illusion to illustrate his plan.

They had plenty of rope and string in storage. They could secure one end to an outcropping on the ledge above, have Rerebos run a guide-string across the cavern, then use that to pull the rope into position. Between Vance’s ability to boost his strength and some judicious spells from Drev, they should be able to secure the rope, then use that to cross the cavern without walking across that suspicious floor.

Robin has no real desire to discover what, precisely, was lurking beneath.

There was some silent discussion. Savra and Drev, in particular, were not thrilled by the idea of crawling along the rope, but no one was able to come up with a better idea.

At least, not one they could easily communicate if they did have a better idea.

So they set to it. The hardest part was actually carefully slipping into the cavern one at a time and climbing up the rope ladder to the ledge. Robin kept eyeing the holes in the floor as he did so.

He was the last one up, and he’d be the last one across. If he had to, he could grow wings and fly, after all. The only reason he wasn’t doing so right now was because they had no idea what need there might be for magic before they made it safely out the other side.

This was not a place to set up camp and try to meditate and restore one’s energies.

Robin couldn’t wait until he had an illusion that would let him fly more easily, almost all of the time.

Not long now. He knew just the spell and it was Tier 3. He was getting so close.

Jhess crossed first, the rogue almost running across the rope her balance was so precise. Drev followed, much more slowly, hand over hand, inching himself along. Even then he nearly slipped and fell, the give in the rope betraying the sureness of his grip.

Breath caught in Robin’s throat. Would the mage fall, hitting the ground and altering whatever it was beneath them?

Drev wasn’t a force initiate for nothing, though. Purple-white sparks flew and Drev used minor telekinesis of some kind to steady himself. Robin his the breath out slowly. He did not need stress like that!

Vance was next, quick and sure, borrowing grace from some acrobat of legend or other. Robin could only shake his head at the man’s efficiency. He was barely using a wisp of power, just enough to give him an edge. He needed to have more conversations about what techniques Vance used to efficiency.

Savra took Drev’s approach. Slow and careful. Savra, however, made it across without incident.

Then it was Robin’s turn. Nerves had made his palms sweaty and the silken fibres of the rope beneath his hands felt slippery. He moved along, using the same method as Savra and Drev but moving more quickly. The beat of his heart drove him on. He was too nervous to go slowly. Every second telescoping into a potential whirlpool of mistakes?

No thanks. Robin felt the need to move.

Then it happened. The rope slipped. maybe it was the knot work. Maybe it was bad luck or the negative effects of [Touch of Wild Magic], but whatever it was, the rope suddenly went slack beneath Robin, losing a degree of tension and dropping him precipitously toward the floor of the cavern ten or so feet below.

His hand slipped. he grabbed for the rope but the silken fibres twisted out of his grasp. Robin’s arm windmilled, a frantic attempt to stabilise himself and arrest his downward momentum.

Misfortune fouled his attempt and Robin felt himself fall. Instinctively he reached for his shapeshifting ability, to turn himself into something with wings, but the falls was not that far. His mind was distracted and he hit the ground with a thud before he could effect any change.

The sound of scales over stone exploded as long, sinuous forms rose from each of the holes in the floor, a forest of writhing snake-like shapes. Some were barbed with crustal spines, some had three-clawed appendages like hands on the ends, and some blinked crystalline eyes around as they whipped back and forth searching for their prey.

Robin froze as several eyes nearby locked on him.

Shit.

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