RAVEN'S GAMBIT

The chamber stood silent, its emptiness broken only by the presence of three large chests—one gleaming gold, one silvery and cool in the dim light, and the last a sturdy banded oak box that looked as if it had withstood a century of storms. Each was bolted firmly to the floor, as if daring adventurers to test their luck.

“There are three chests, each different,” Sir Cedric mused, looking around the room with narrowed eyes. “Is there anything else here?”

Tessa didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes scanned the northern wall. “There’s a secret door,” she whispered. “Looks like the only other entrance or exit. This might actually be a good place to rest. Two entrances, both hidden. Defensible.”

Sir Cedric nodded. “Let’s check the chests first. Then we rest.”

The group tensed, weapons drawn and spells readied, as Tessa approached the golden chest. Her slender fingers moved quickly across the surface, tapping and prodding. “No traps,” she confirmed, stepping to the side. “Opening.”

She flipped the lid and leapt backward.

Twelve tiny vipers spilled out with a soft hiss, slithering rapidly across the stone floor.

“Move!” someone shouted.

Elric Duskwind reacted instantly, unleashing a wave of flame from his fingertips. The vipers shrieked—unnaturally high-pitched for snakes—as they were reduced to ash in seconds. The chest, however, was empty.

“Cruel joke,” Theron muttered.

Tessa moved to the silver chest and repeated her process. “No traps,” she said, once again opening it from a safe distance.

Nothing happened.

She approached cautiously and looked inside. Resting within was a clear crystal box, and inside that—a single silver ring. Her brow furrowed. “Trap mechanism is inside the box,” she whispered to herself, then deftly disabled it and tucked the crystal box into her pouch.

She turned to the oak chest last.

“No traps,” she announced again, flipping the lid and leaping away. This time, it wasn’t vipers.

From within rose a massive skeleton—unnaturally large and humanoid, but entirely constructed of yellowing, runed bones. Two massive scimitars were fused to its forearms like extensions of its limbs.

“A golem!” Kaelen Firebrand shouted.

Sir Cedric rushed forward, his blade glowing with holy energy. “Begone, foul beast!” he cried, slashing—but the divine energy fizzled. The golem was not evil.

Theron’s Eldritch Blast struck the bone monstrosity, but it barely flinched. Thog Skullsplitter roared and entered a brutal rage, his great axe biting deep into its ribs, sending fragments clattering across the floor.

Lira Valesong raised her voice in a haunting, ethereal melody, inspiring the group with bardic courage. Tessa stayed back, recognizing her blade would be ineffective. Elowyn swung Wave but missed. Kaela Virell’s wand sparked, her Scorching Ray searing a black mark onto its skull. Khopesh slashed with Blackrazor, connecting with a sharp crack. Tank struck with Whelm, but it glanced off the bone.

Magic Missiles flew from Kael, Kaelen, and Elric—but the golem resisted the brunt of their force.

Thalia’s arrows bounced harmlessly off its ribs. Bran fired a round from his Colt Dragoon revolver, missing narrowly.

The Scimitar Slasher struck back with terrifying speed. Both blades found targets—Thog staggered, bleeding, and Cedric’s chestplate dented under the impact.

Theron fired again, landing a solid hit. Thog responded with another heavy blow. Sir Cedric struck true this time, his masterwork blade shearing a chunk of bone away. Elowyn missed again with Wave. Kaela’s wand flared again—this time the fire scorched deep. Khopesh followed up with a brutal strike, and Tank’s hammer finally hit bone with force.

Thalia’s arrow shattered on impact. Bran steadied his aim, gritted his teeth, and fired again.

BANG!

The shot echoed in the chamber. The golem’s skull split wide, and the creature collapsed, bones clattering across the floor.

For a moment, no one spoke.

“I… really hate magic skeletons,” Bran muttered.

The group moved quickly to secure the room. Bedrolls were laid out. Elowyn began tending to wounds while Thalia scribbled in her notes. Watch schedules were decided. It was quiet at last—eerily so, but comforting after the chaos.

Bran lay with his back to a wall, staring at the ceiling.

Tessa, already half-asleep beside him, murmured something unintelligible and shifted in her sleep. One arm lazily draped across his chest.

Bran froze.

Then he smiled slightly… and let her sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED...