RAVEN'S GAMBIT | Part 31: Blackrazor Beckons
The battle-scarred group stood in the quiet aftermath of slaughter, the echo of the manticores’ roars still hanging in the air like a fading scream.
“Manticores are quite dangerous,” Elowyn Mosswhisper said softly, kneeling beside the bodies of Taya, Trix, Brock, and Lin. Her voice was lined with fatigue and sorrow.
Shino of the Whispering Leaves quietly approached Hachiro Noboru, murmuring a few words of healing. Light bathed the samurai’s wounded frame, mending flesh and bone with careful hands.
Theron Blackroot stood at the center of it all, hands clenched.
“Our numbers are thinning. Our potions are nearly gone. Our spells drain too fast. And we don’t even know how close we are to finishing this cursed mountain.”He glanced at the ceiling. “And we have no damned clue what Raven gets out of this.”
A heavy silence followed.
Hachiro turned to Thalia Emberbranch.
“Can you pick the lock using Tessa’s tools?”
Thalia gave a small nod and took the picks from her pouch.
“I’ll try,” she whispered and crouched before the ancient door.
Her first attempt clicked. Success. She smiled faintly, proud.
With the door open, a thin mist spilled into the room. It shimmered with unnatural stillness, despite no breeze.
“I don’t like this,” Elric Duskwind muttered, drawing his dagger.
“This fog…” Hachiro murmured.
Kael the Ember-Eyed leaned down and passed his hand through it.
“Mind fog. It clouds thought but causes no direct harm.”
“Thalia,” Hachiro called, “can you open the next door? Quickly, before the fog grows worse?”
She said nothing. Already halfway down the hall, she was lost in the mist—her pace quickening, eyes glassy. She dropped to her knees before the second door and began working.
The lock fought her. The fog swirled around her head like a whispering curse. Still, she persisted.
Click.
She exhaled in relief and waved the others forward.
Those entering behind her—Shino, Elowyn, Seren, and Khopesh—resisted the fog’s mental drain. Others stumbled forward, minds dulled.
They stepped into a chamber that broke all expectations.
Vaulted ceilings loomed 15 feet above, painted in radiant mosaics of constellations. Tapestries hung from gilded rods, their designs ancient and mysterious. The floor was a cushiony dream of thick rugs and velvet pillows, broken only by a massive 6-foot hookah in one corner and an ornate divan in the center.
“A lounge?” Theron whispered in disbelief.
Then a halfling stepped into the soft light.
“Greetings!” he chirped. “I am Fenseq, held prisoner by the horrid wizard Keraptis for—”
“Who are you, really?” Hachiro snapped, blades half drawn.
The halfling’s grin twisted. He vanished mid-bow. Invisibility.
These are fresh souls you may feed me, a voice not of this world slithered through the halfling’s mind.
Darkness gathered near the ceiling. Elric turned his gaze upward and gasped.
“The greatsword above the door—it’s gone!”
Then came the thud.
The halfling fell from the ceiling, landing beside the door, now wielding a sword far too large for him.
The sword pulsed, a void-black blade glittering with starlight—Blackrazor.
The halfling grew in size, his form swelling with arcane muscle and shifting into its true shape: a leering, horned ogre mage.
“You should have been wiser,” the ogre said sadly. “Now I, Qesnef, must feed your souls to this beautiful thing that calls to me.”
He ran a thick finger along Blackrazor’s edge. The sword pulsed with hunger.
Shino, Thalia, and Kaelen were closest.
Shino struck first, cracking his staff across Qesnef’s temple.
Thalia slashed with her short sword, drawing blood.
Kaelen fired a Ray of Frost, but it fizzled against the ogre mage’s spell resistance.
Theron launched an Eldritch Blast, but missed.
Elric’s Magic Missile slipped past the ogre’s defenses, scorching flesh.
Kael’s spell fizzled.
Seren’s crossbow bolt grazed Qesnef’s arm.
“I tried kindness,” Qesnef sighed, “but now—”
Blackrazor sang.
It cut through Shino, cleaving him cleanly in half.
A whisper echoed in the room—not Qesnef’s, but Blackrazor’s, murmuring with satisfaction.
Thalia retaliated, missing.
Kaelen’s next Magic Missile broke through and burned flesh.
Elric and Kael’s spells vanished on contact.
Seren missed his next bolt.
Qesnef raised Blackrazor for another swing—
And Khopesh struck.
With a bone-crunching slam, he shattered ribs and spine. Qesnef gasped. Blackrazor slid from his grasp.
He slumped to the floor, dead.
Silence.
Blackrazor pulsed again, and everyone heard it—a voice, deep and cold and very much alive.
Mummy... you are strong. Take me. Wield me. Feed me.
Khopesh’s hand hovered over the blade.
The sword beckoned.