“XP should have been higher,” Carey was saying.

Will tried to explain as they began looting the imp corpses. “The spider was almost dead. Whatchu want? A cookie?”

“Plus, you got points earlier,” Beatrice added, kneeling at the shaman’s dead body. “For pitting it against the Torgs.”

“True.”

The loot wasn’t all that great of a haul, except for a few armor and weapon upgrades Carey sorely needed. It showed up on a shared screen so they could distribute it fairly among themselves.

Carey finally got himself a respectable weapon:

Item: Steel Dagger of Reckoning

Type: Steel Weapon, One-Handed

Attack DMG: 6/sec

Speed: Fast

Weight: 0.5

Value: 2S, 500C

Traits: +3 Bleeding Damage

He didn’t mind the armor pieces that came along with it:

Item: Lowlands Suede Brigandine

Type: Light Armor, Leather

DMG Resist: 4

Weight: 1

Value: 1S, 200C

Traits: None

And…

Item: Lowlands Leather Greaves

Type: Light Armor, Leather

DMG Resist: 2

Weight: 0.75

Value: 750C

Traits: None

The Torgs yielded a bunch of copper, but nothing compared to the spider’s 15 silver. They divided it three ways, the coins automatically being added to their individual inventories.

“Check it out,” Will said. “A note.”

They grouped together to read it. The note, taken off the shaman, rose spinning from Will’s hand to dominate Carey’s vision—a stained, yellowish piece of paper that looked as though it had seen better days. Across its surface, a simple note had been scrawled using what appeared to have been the charred tip of a stick dipped in oil.

Torg Boss Ruckus give:

BIG LEG FLAMER mix list for kill lickroot spiders

empty bottle + 2 gorlag oil + 2 woorm skin + empty bottle + fire

“It’s a recipe,” Beatrice said. “To kill...lickroot spiders.”

She chuckled at the spelling error. Carey didn’t find it funny—not after the Elder Lichroot Spider they’d just had to battle. Carey was about to save the note when Will informed him that the recipe had already been added to the list in his crafting screen. Convenient!

Carey received a huge haul of crafting materials, which included: (5) Leather Strips, (2) Thrallspice, (1) Torg Earring, (1) Enderthal Crystal—“Used for crafting runes to enhance your gear,” Will explained—(2) Manspur Root and (8) Alkahest.

“Whoa, nice,” Carey said. “Is this alkahest sort of like alcoho—”

“Don’t even think about it,” Beatrice snapped. “That stuff will drain your HP faster than the acid from that spider’s cakehole.”

“Cakehole,” Carey said, chuckling. “Nice one. So, is it flammable?”

“For molotov cocktails,” Will said. “I just read your mind.”

“I recommend you stay out of there.” Carey winked at him. “Don’t want you getting PTSD.”

Beatrice led them to the temple doors. “There should be a workbench and an alchemy station nearby. Always is at the start of a dungeon.”

“What’s that?” Carey asked, pointing down at a low hole in the temple’s front wall.

“Torg hole,” Will said. “Must be. It’s how they get in and out.”

“The door’s probably locked,” Bea said. “Carey, you go through the hole first.”

Carey got down on his belly and tried to worm his way through. An invisible forcefield blocked him.

“What the...”

He pushed against it, even pounded his fist. The forcefield must have been either a magic spell or it had been placed there by the developers. Maybe the holes weren’t intended to be used by the players...

When he crawled back out, Will and Beatrice were laughing.

“Very funny,” Carey said, his insides going tight with rage. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but the incident reminded him that he knew very little about the way this place worked, and that it wasn’t like the RPGs he was used to. “Stop laughing. Get serious or this place is gonna kill us all… I said STOP.”

The laughter was cut off. Beatrice and Will stood frowning at him.

“Relax, brah,” Will said.

“Quit calling me brah. I’m not your brah or your bro, homie. We’re here to do a job, and then after that, we go home. I’m not dying in this place because you guys think you’re so goddamn hilarious.”

Carey pushed open the temple doors, burying his face in the crook of his arm to avoid the dust kicked up by the sweeping motion. He coughed and remembered the dust wasn’t real. Surprisingly, the thought calmed the itching in his lungs.

Your mind makes it real, remember?

Shut up, Morpheus. This isn’t the Matrix.

The temple’s entry foyer was two stories tall and empty, dark, and dusty. Will lit his Luminether crystal, and they were able to see cobwebs stretched over most of the corners and ceiling, but luckily, no spiders.

There was, however, a puzzle in the center of the room.

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Beatrice said, walking around it, Will circling in the other direction.

“Like the one back in Runesfeld, you think?” Will asked.

Beatrice shrugged, her wings fluttering. “Could be. Let’s check it out. Can you make a lamp?”

Will shot a spell at the ceiling. The globe of bluish light stuck there, almost too bright to glance at. Like a tiny white sun hanging from the ceiling.

Carey studied the puzzle, hoping it was like one of the hundreds he’d completed in the many RPGs he’d played in his life. Four stone blocks of differing sizes sat on the concrete floor, thicker at the base but tapering up into a narrow tip. Whoever built them had sanded them down to a smooth, almost shiny, surface and had placed them in a square. Despite having rounded edges, the blocks could be said to have four sides, and on each side was a carving.

Will identified them out loud. “A wing, an eagle’s eye, a thick tome, and a gauntlet.”

Beatrice supplied the rest of the information. “Aliara, Valcyona, Kenatos, and Sargos. The four gods of Astros.”

“I’m guessing we can turn the blocks?” Carey asked.

The answer was yes, and they were easier to turn than they looked. But in what combination should they be rotated? And did size matter? Each block, though shaped like the others, was a different height.

Carey inspected the floor. It was covered in dust. Will made them stand back as he cast a wind spell that brushed the dust off the floor like a bed sheet being yanked away, revealing lines carved into the concrete—lines attaching each of the stone blocks to a circle in the center of the floor.

Written inside the circle was what sounded like a poem, each string of words forming the various lines curving around a shallow hole in the center. They took turns reading the different verses.

“Would the silent hunter unload his cargo of solitudes,” Will read.

“Midsummer, the overcast sky torn by the flight of angels,” Beatrice read. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “That must be the Acolyte one.”

“Waiting is the cause of ruin, if not for the Tiberian fists of Titans,” Carey read. “Sargonauts, for sure.”

Will read the last line: “As the world disconnects from a universe of light?” He nodded authoritatively, as though the line made perfect sense.

They discussed each line in turn. The “silent hunter” was most likely referring to Valcyona, mother-goddess of Ferals. The “sky torn by angels” referred to Aliara, mother-goddess of Acolytes. “Tiberian fists of Titans” referred to Sargos, father-god of Sargonauts. Finally, the “universe of light” referred to Kenatos, father-god of Savants.

“Maybe the height of each block dictates the line of the poem it corresponds to,” Beatrice said.

“But which one goes with the shortest and which goes with the tallest?” Carey asked.

“Look,” Will said, pointing up at the second-story wall sections.

It would have been impossible to see without the light globe, which hung at exactly the right level. All around them, spanning the four walls, the depiction of a battle scene had been carved into the stone. Muscular Sargonaut warriors wielded battle-axes and warhammers; Acolytes hung in the air, casting healing spells; Ferals crouched behind enemies, daggers ready to strike; and Savants hung back, flinging lightning and fire spells.

“Some of the fighters, you can tell what race they are,” Will said, pointing at each in turn. “That one’s definitely a Sargonaut, and look at the others.”

“Savant, Acolyte…” Beatrice said.

Carey pointed at one. “Feral, right there. Is it just me, or are some noticeably bigger and more visible than the others?”

“That’s it!” Will snapped his fingers. “That’s how we know which order to turn the blocks. By their height.”

Carey bounded over to the tallest stone block, ready to turn it, and stared apprehensively at his teammates. “Don’t expect me to put this poem together. I do poetry the same way monkeys do quantum physics.”

“I got this,” Will said. “Took a class on poetry in college.”

“Homie, you took a class on everything in college.”

“Shut up, guys,” Beatrice said. “Let’s do this. Will?”

It took a few minutes, but Will finally put what he felt was the proper order of the poem’s verses.

Midsummer, the overcast sky torn by the flight of angels,

Waiting is the cause of ruin, if not for the Tiberian fists of Titans

Would the silent hunter unload his cargo of solitudes

As the world disconnects from a universe of light?

“Tricky having two questions at the end,” Will said. “But only one has a question mark, so I’m guessing that’s the last line.”

“Makes sense,” Carey said. “I mean… beats me what the poem actually means, but it has a nice ring to it.”

“Now we turn the blocks. The Acolyte line goes first, and according to the drawing on the wall, the Acolyte is the largest one. See her in the foreground?”

The others nodded. Carey placed his hands on the block with the symbol of the wing. Beatrice gave him the nod, and he turned it until the symbol faced the center.

The line leading to the circle brightened.

“One down,” Will said.

The depiction of the battle scene showed three more distinct warriors from the other three races—the Sargonaut almost as large as the Acolyte, but not quite, followed by the Feral and the Savant, the last of which was smallest, casting spells from a distance. Carey turned the blocks accordingly, until all four lines carved into the floor glowed white, filling the circle in the center.

Nothing happened.

“Now we just press the circle,” Carey said. “See how it’s raised an inch off the floor?”

He walked over to it, but Beatrice made a hissing motion to stop him.

“Wait,” she said. “I feel like there’s something more that needs to be done.”

“It’s all set,” Carey assured her. “The whole thing is lit up like Christmas. Haven’t you done one of these before in a vid—Oh, I forgot, you’re not a gamer.”

“But… that hole…”

Ignoring her, Carey stepped on the circle. It lowered with a click until it was even with the floor.

The white lines changed… to blood red.

“Oh, sh—”

Snap-clack! Snap-clack!

They flew too fast to see. Carey only identified the weapon after several had struck him. They were spears—goddamn three-foot spears!—launched at a high velocity from hidden holes in the wall to embed themselves in Carey’s body.

Snap-clack! Snap-clack!

He felt them tear muscle, bang against bone, rupture internal organs—at least he imagined them doing so as he sank to the floor, awash in the worst game pain he’d felt so far.

DrollTroll takes -21 stabbing damage

DrollTroll takes -22 stabbing damage

DrollTroll takes -21 stabbing damage

DrollTroll takes -19 stabbing damage

DrollTroll dodges and avoids Spear Trap

The spears faded and finally disappeared. They were not items that could be collected, not that Carey was thinking about loot right at this moment.

“Almost… killed… me,” he muttered, curled up in the fetal position. His HP was almost down to a quarter of a bar left. Way too close. It was staggering to think just how stupid he could be sometimes. How impulsive he’d been in such a dangerous place. Impulsivity had always been a problem for him. It was like his fatal flaw, sure to get him killed someday.

Why couldn’t he be more level-headed? Why did he have to tempt fate like a suicidal idiot?

The worst thing was, five spears had been shot at him, but the last one had missed. If the last one had hit him, inflicting a critical hit, he’d be dead right now.

“Jee… susss,” he groaned. “That… hurrrrrts…”

The light around Carey, once red, was replaced by another burning glow as Beatrice washed a healing spell over his body.

His teammates helped him to a sitting position.

“You’re okay,” Beatrice said. “You’re still with us.”

“How you feeling?” Will asked.

“Better now,” Carey said, though the memory still made him tremble.

If the others noticed how he was shaking, they didn’t mention it.

“Thanks,” Carey said. “For… for not getting mad at me. Or making fun of me.”

“We’ve all been there, brah,” Will reassured him.

Beatrice lightly smacked his arm. “Don’t mention it, big guy. But from now on, we make decisions as a team. Especially in dungeons and regarding puzzles. They’re treacherous.”

“Agreed,” Carey said.

The blocks had reset. This time, Will turned them while Carey and Beatrice watched and double-checked his work. The lines of white light appeared once more, filling the circle and the lines of poetry within.

“We have to plug something circular in there,” Beatrice said, pointing at the shallow hole in the center of the raised circle. “Let’s try and find it. Must be in this room somewhere.”

Carey wasted no time in searching. He had to redeem himself, and this was his chance. Concentrating as hard as he could, he scoured every inch of the room and the wrap-around balcony separating the first floor from the second. The loot wasn’t bad, at least.

Of everything he found, which included several useless weapons, junk, and low-level armor, he kept the following:

(1) Angelic Gysum Dust

(7) Iron Shards

(4) Web Residue

(3) Glass Flasks

(8) Leather Strips

(2) Steel Ingots

(5) Iron Ingots

Toward the end of his search, when he was about to give up and ask the others if they’d had any luck, he came across a small chest half-buried in dirt in the corner. Only one tiny section was visible, which made this a very fortunate find.

Lucky break! DrollTroll reveals Small Hidden Chest.

EXPERIENCE GAINED: 75 points (860/4,125 to next level)

Carey understood now. His Luck attribute of 30 had given him the good fortune of finding extra loot. Now, to see what was inside…

“Whoa, nice!” He lifted his prize. “Guys, check this out!”

The others were below the balcony and had to look up to find him.

“What is it?” Will shouted up at him.

Carey did a backflip, dropped down off the balcony and landed catlike on the main floor. He showed the others his score.

“It’s a…” Carey began, struggling with the word. “Chai-ten… ?”

Item: Crab Lord’s Chitin Helm of Reckoning (Enchanted)

Type: Light Armor, Chitin

DMG Resist: 6 (+1.5)

Weight: 3

Value: 3S, 240C

Traits: Critical strikes against player cause 25 percent damage.

“Chih-tin helm,” Will corrected him. “It’s a material that makes up the exoskeleton of arthropods.”

“Good thing you took that Zoology class, nerd.”

“At least I went to class, hillbilly.”

“Boys,” Beatrice said. “I think you’ll want to check this out.”

She held up a vaguely cone-shaped, stone object. Tiny, rune-like symbols had been carved all over it.

“Does this look like the missing puzzle piece?” She grinned mischievously. “I found it in the eye socket of a lonely skeleton over in the corner.”

Will sighed in relief. “Damn straight. Let’s get this over with.”

Carey put on his chitin helm as he accompanied the others back to the puzzle. It was a perfect fit, just like all the clothes and armor he’d put on so far. He checked his stats, pleased to see a boost to his overall armor rating as well as his defenses against critical hits and certain types of damage—particularly the explosive and elemental types.

Once Beatrice plugged the remaining piece into the hole and stepped on it, the entire puzzle flared with light. A huge section of wall in the back slowly rotated open. A darkened corridor became visible in the background, leading deeper into the temple’s belly.