The Dragon's Cry

The opening over the stream isn't particularly spacious, but at least you're pretty sure you'll fit through it. You step into the water in front of the arch and peer down the tunnel. You think you see a brighter glow farther down, but it's far enough away that you aren't sure. Kneeling, you begin to crawl along the stream bed.

As you progress, you notice that the luminescent mold on the walls and ceiling continues into the tunnel, but is becoming more and more sparse. You also hear splashing sounds from somewhere up ahead. In the bluish light from below, you can see worn pictograms etched into the stone around you . . . and something lying in the stream ahead. You crawl faster.

When you reach the object, your heart lurches: it's a human skeleton, so old as to have begun to collect a coat of glowing lichen. Your eyes are drawn to the crumbling remains of a utility belt around its middle, and to the useless, rusted blade stuck point-down between two of its ribs. The belt falls to dust as soon as you touch it, and a quick search reveals nothing of value in the debris. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see something green in the stream bed. You look closer, but you can't decide if it's a real emerald or a piece of glass. You go to pick it up--

--and find that it is embedded in something. The something moves, is covered with lichen, and is vaguely dagger-shaped. You pick it up, expecting to find another rusted weapon, but when you turn it over to see the other side, shiny spots of bare metal reflect the dim light from the ceiling. Intrigued, you scrape at the lichen with your fingernails, revealing a perfectly, miraculously sound dagger that is sharp enough to slice one careless fingertip. Sucking the wound, you examine the green gem set into the hilt, and wonder how old it is, not to mention what kind of magic would repel not only lichen but also rust.

You finish cleaning the dagger, and realize that, if you want to take it with you, you have nowhere to put it. You search the area for any sign of a sheath, but there is none. When you look up, you see something like a rune carved into the timeworn wall. From the depth and clarity of the lines, you guess that it is newer than the rest of the pictograms you've seen, but you can neither decipher it nor put an age to it. Nevertheless, you memorize it, in case you find someone who might know what it means.

Holding the dagger in one hand, you pick your way around the skeleton and continue down the tunnel. The lichen has disappeared from the rock walls, and the splashing is getting louder. You can't be sure, but you think the tunnel is narrowing. Out of fear and anticipation, you speed up, but the dagger occupying your hand makes for slow going, and your bruises begin to complain. You're not usually claustrophobic, but then again, hardly anything about this day has been usual. Finally, the tunnel ends, in an archway only slightly smaller than the one you entered.

As you crawl out, you notice that the ground ends abruptly about five meters in front of you. The stream becomes a small cascade splashing down the rock, and you realize that you have found the source of the sounds. You stand, stretch gingerly, and take in your surroundings. Almost immediately, you see that the cliff is really only a ledge; about two meters below you, the floor continues. The cave appears to be nearly round, about fifteen meters across, its domed ceiling covered in a different, pinkish type of glowing fungus. From the arch to the cascade, and from a small pool at the base of the ledge to an impassable arch in the opposite wall, the stream runs down the middle of the floor, dividing it almost exactly in half. Against the far wall on the lower level, just to the left of the exit arch of the stream, is a small table, just under a meter high, with a brightly burning lantern on it. But what catches your eye is the heavy iron-clad door hanging open below you, in the far left wall of the cave.

Your first thought is to go over the ledge and through the door. Wherever it leads, it has to be better (and drier) than these caves. But as you start forward, you begin to wonder whether it's such a good idea. You have no idea where you are, you are armed with only a dagger, and you're both tired and soaking wet. Maybe you should just wait here until whoever owns the door (and the lantern) shows up. You only hope they're friendly . . . . .

What will you do?

• Wait for someone to come through the door.
• Go through the door yourself.

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