Chenga

Into the Dark

The remains of white stone towers lay shattered all around.  Blasted apart by the hands of the gods, the scene was one of desolate devastation.  Small clumps of withered grass poked their dead, yellow-brown, stems through patches of snow.  A biting wind cut and swirled its way around the ruined place: the Tomb of Katchu-Pek.

Slowly, the three figures picked their way through the tumbled mass of rubble.  The smallest of the three lagged behind and clutched at his side.  The other two moved faster through the maze of crumbling rock, then came to a stop.

'You sure this is the way?'  Simarl lowered his hood and turned to Eylana.

'It's the only way we know of.  Just ahead are some steps and a door.  I've been that far before, but  never further.  The door is sealed.'

Nirgalen staggered up to them.

'So... you think you can get in?'  Simarl threw a questioning look at Nirgalen.

'Have we ever met a door yet that I couldn't open?'  Nirgalen smiled a pained smile at Simarl and coughed.  'Is it just ahead?'

Eylana pointed the way to a set of steps that descended beneath the rubble.  Rock beams lay in a jumble over the stairwell and the three of them had to crouch down to clamber beneath.  A muddy tunnel, patched with frost and ice, lay at the end of the stairs.

Eylana pulled out a white staff that was slung across her back and Simarl drew the K'Vathin sword.  Nirgalen looked at them and allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloom that engulfed them.  Ahead was a metal clad door.  A cast of a lion's head, framed by writhing snakes, could be made out in the pale light, which filtered through from the tunnel behind them.  No lock, no handle... but a small square panel lay beneath the head of the lion.

'Should we knock?'  Simarl whispered to Nirgalen and grinned.  Nirgalen pulled at the rim of the small panel, but it made no movement.  He placed the palm of his hand flat against the cold metal surface.  With a click, the panel slid back to reveal a small recess.

'I'll need some light.'  Nirgalen pointed to Simarl's pack.  Simarl sheathed his sword and pulled out a small torch and tinder box.  With a few strikes of flint on steel, the tinder was alight and the torch was soon flaming.  Eylana looked worriedly behind them, as smoke wafted down the tunnel.

Nirgalen turned his attention back to the door.  Within the hole revealed by the sliding panel lay a combination lock.  On each of seven small metal cubes, he could make out symbols that corresponded to those in the writings of Taromahn.  Nirgalen nodded.

'So, we have the lock, now for the combination.'

Nirgalen pulled out one of the crumpled sheets of paper from his cloak.  Simarl and Eylana cast worried glances at Nirgalen and back down the tunnel.  Nirgalen's eyes flickered over the symbols and writing on the page.  He turned the first six small metal cubes and then stopped.

'What's up?'  Simarl peered down at the writings and rubbed his chin.

'The symbols spell out the word Barracoi in the Old Tongue.  The letters of the Old Tongue were also numbers.  But... we have one more letter or number to guess.  Now let me have a think.'

Nirgalen looked down at Taromahn's writings, to see the symbols of the Old Tongue, arranged in nine columns, under the numbers 1 to 9. 

'Ah...okay... lets try 3, 1, 8, 1, 5, 9...that would spell out Barracoi... and if we add all those numbers together, we get 27, which adds back up to 9.  I'm guessing 9 is the last symbol.  Let's see if that works.'  Nirgalen slowly rotated the seventh small metal cube and held his breath.  Nothing happened.