Chapter Two - The Price of Acquisition

There was really only one way to approach this problem.

      The Voorlock crowed as it heard the leathering wings closing in on them and Calista reigned her steed to a halt. Hopping down from the stirrups, Calista reached into a saddle bag and pulled out a small green vial. The wings were just behind them now, rounding the last corners before it would come into view. She pulled the stopper, dropped a dab of the green liquid on herself and her Voorlock, and with a soft – WHUMP! - they both disappeared.

      It came then, a black dragon with a wingspan as wide as a city bus. Fortunately for Calista, the hallway was now practically cavernous and so all she felt was a gust of wind as the dragon flew past. She had never seen a black dragon before and so she marveled as it passed. Did that thing have four eyes? Why would a dragon have four eyes? Both she and the Voorlock stayed frozen to the wall until the dragon was out of sight. When it was gone, she let out a deep and fearful breath. I wasn't prepared for a dragon lair. I should count myself lucky I made it this far. If I get killed now, I'll forfeit the blade. She didn't want that. Anything but that. The blade on her back was worth more than even an ultra-rare dragon egg.

Her Voorlock followed beside her as they walked down the hallway. She'd had many companions over her years of dungeon crawling, but the Voorlock was her favorite. Riding dogs, lizards, trees that walked, she had even tried a giant cat once, but it had been too obstinate. The Voorlock was loyal and smart enough to keep her company. He was also very beautiful with shining feathers that fit every shade of blue and green. She had raised him from a hatchling.

Voices, low and threatening, echoed from the corridor behind them. Trolls. She had seen them on her way in. Two, specifically, who were dressed in mail with half helms and spears. She could hear the large one talking now, bellowing something about an 'interloper.' She hated trolls. She hated the way they talked. She hated the way they smelled. She hated the way they hated 'interlopers' like her.

The hallway was morphing again, shrinking around her as it returned to its normal size. There would be more monsters soon. Whoever had sent the dragon knew she was here. She had to get out. The dragon had likely reported their disappearance to whatever power controlled this place and now traps were beginning to appear on the floor. She could see them. They were rather clumsy. Pressure plates in the stonework. She thought about triggering one to see what it would do.

Holding the Voorlock's reigns in one hand, she knelt to look at the stone that had just turned color. It was glowing red hot like a bomb. Someone knew she was here. She clicked her teeth. This would be fun. Whoever had built this castle had likely been quite powerful, perhaps even brilliant. However, whoever was running the show now was either dumb or a little emotional. She wondered briefly about the trolls.

Reaching into her saddle bag, she produced a small firework. Then she pressed it into a crack in the mortar, lit the fuse and, with her Voorlock in tow, walked quickly down the hallway. They had about ten seconds to get clear. Three steps down the corridor, out of the corner of her eye she spotted a slot on the wall. Another trap. Just in time, she held her hand out to stop the Voorlock as a poison arrow shot across the corridor.

Pulling her steed by the saddle, ten seconds … nine … eight … they were nearly clear now, it would be close … six … five … four … three steps later the hallway shuddered as the floor caved in. A cloud of dust and smoke blew past her. She coughed as she waved it away.

The hole was deep and dark. She did not know what was down there, only that she had to leave the corridor behind. She suspected the dragon was coming back soon and she wasn't sure what to do about it yet. Perhaps she would steal a dragon egg after all. Why not? As a Delver, she specialized in sneaking into dungeons and stealing loot.

She reached into the pocket of her coat. Where is that thing? I just had it. They're always so useful. You never know when you might need one. There. She produced a gray-blue feather. Holding the Voorlock gently by the wing in one hand and the magic feather in the other, they leapt down into the hole.

The feather token glowed as they descended. The fall wasn't far. The room below was cold and their breath misted in the air as they landed. The Voorlock let out a coo as its talons landed on the stones. She put the feather token back into her coat pocket and then pulled out a small metal rod. It was about the size of a pen and with a puff of her breath it began to glow.