Zoltan's Crypt

Every nook and cranny of Zoltan’s crypt was coated in long-settled dust. The two adventures forced the thick air into their lungs with heavy gulps. Nothing in this place wanted to be disturbed.

Richard carried the torch, his chainmail rustling with each step into the awakening darkness. Ashley kept her bow half-pulled as she followed, ready to fire at any hostile creatures lurking in these depths. A well-synchronized team despite their having met in a tavern one week prior.

Richard knocked on the stone wall, producing a hollow echo. “This must be a hidden door. Here, help me push.”

A countdown and they fell through, into a room with rows of leather-bound tomes lining ornamented shelves. Richard approached a dark pedestal that rose from the center of the round chamber. On it lay a thin book, open to a page of gilded writing. Richard lifted it and began reading.

“Whomever’s name is recorded in these pages will find themselves in a new location, devoid of the responsibilities of this physical plane.” Richard looked up with a smirk. “I dare you to go in there.”

Beyond the glow of the torch, Ashley’s face was dark and her words slow. “Why don’t you be a man about it?”

Richard, his face reddened, reached for the adjacent quill and scribbled into the book. He smiled, relief in his eyes. “See, I knew it was a load of–” his body vanished, the torch and book clattering on the stone floor. Ashley’s grim face entered the sphere of light.

“Oh, you poor fool. The book of Zoltan is the most powerful relic of the First Age, and it’s now in my possession.” She stared at it in her hands, then stowed it in her satchel.

“And I know exactly how to use it.”