After half a day of testing, the idea that if we paid more, we were led to different places was accurate. If we dropped in a range of forty to sixty silver at once, we were taken to either large, empty plazas or sprawling streets that closely resembled a type of market. But there was sothing that was imdiately noticeable.
No undead were present in the new sections if we used the toll booth.
We were attacked only twice, but that was when another segnt connected to the one we were already on. The forces that ca from that were nothing special either. It seed the toll booth would remain for slightly over an hour and would not float away, which was unique considering the shifting paths changed regularly.
When the price of the toll was increased to a single large silver coin, it beca a little more random. Then, the first attempt brought us to a more upscale ho. Once again, the inside was unfurnished and had no signs of soone ever living in it, but the quality of the ho was much nicer with smoothed floor interiors, decorative carpet in what would be the bedrooms, and even glass windows. The other places we were taken to were larger buildings that resembled warehouses—substantial empty spaces that would look to hold sothing.
In the end, the randomness of the Iron Citadel was becoming more known by the mont. But as we increased the value, it wasn’t until we put in a single gold coin that we arrived at a truly unique place. It also took a considerable amount of ti to float to, compared to the others.
Which was where we were at now.
“This is not sothing we’ve ever seen before,” Bowen mumbled in awe.
“Indeed. I don’t recall anyone ever ntioning such a grand mansion before,” Lord Vasquez added.
The toll bridge connected to a large plot with a sizable ho. It was at least three stories tall and was the most prominent ho-style building we had encountered. It was constructed with a polished gray stone and had glass windows placed at regular intervals. An iron gate protected the periter, and through the fence was a barren plot of land.
It wasn’t difficult to imagine that at one point perhaps plants and dirt filled the space. Which was a concerning developnt, considering this entire city was underground in a dungeon but also seed more likely to be underground regardless. So either the owner of this place was so wealthy they could afford to have plants underground with no sunlight, or the residents of the Iron Citadel were far more advanced than we previously imagined.
But that was just the building and the surroundings. There was a far more concerning thing facing us.
Sylvia pointed her finger and asked, “My questions are endless, but what in the world are we going to do about those two things?”
Two skeletons stood at attention at the front entrance, where a gate leading to the mansion was, with spears resting on their shoulders. Neither of them was moving, and they didn’t appear to have been reanimated at all. Even with my Soulsight, I saw no mana source for them. So, how were they standing upright?
And why did they look so… awkward?
“They aren’t undead. Or, at the very least, not in the usual sense,” I told everyone.
Before stepping off the toll booth road, Lord Vasquez looked back at everyone and said, “We will spend so ti investigating this place. We can break into two groups; one can search the outside, and the other can investigate the interior.”
We split into groups. I went with the interior group, which included Bowen, Cerila, Sylvia, Varnir, and Professor Garrison, while everyone else joined Vasquez to search the grounds. Before that, we carefully approached the two skeleton guards.
Bowen created a golem made of wind and had it approach the two silent sentinels, but neither reacted to its presence. Taking it as a sign to move forward, Bowen approached and examined the short-statured guards.
“These two are too big to be considered Dwarves…they are taller, their limbs longer. You ntioned that the Arch Lich you faced off against appeared to be a different sub-race of Dwarves. Do these two fit the category?” Bowen asked.
The Arch Lich was the new designation for the undead we fought before the Zombie Dragon. Its threat level was going to be evaluated at a later ti.
“Yeah, they do look similar,” Professor Garrison answered.
Bowen continued to inspect the two undead and mumbled to himself, “I wrote off that undead as being a particular case only possible through being undead. But there are two more of a similar race here now. Is it possible that an ancient Dwarf subrace once existed and was wiped out to the point of mass extinction, and no records of them were left? Or are Krunbar elites hiding an ancient secret? Does that an the Iron Citadel isn’t just a dungeon mimicking a place but rather a city that once existed? There are so many fascinating possibilities. This may be a genuine breakthrough.”
“Anything else of note, Bowen?” Vasquez asked.
Bowen slowly nodded his head. “Yes, yes, these two guards’ iron armor is of high quality. Or at least I believe it to have been at one point,” he said.
Bowen wiped the skeleton's breastplate, and the entire thing toppled over and fell onto the ground into a pile of bones and armor. Bowen gave everyone a sheepish smile but grabbed the breastplate, shook the bones from it, and brought it up.
“A symbol of this house, perhaps? Two hamrs with flas atop a shield…I don’t recognize this at all,” Bowen said, turning to us.
Everyone shrugged, and so did I. I had never seen that symbol before, nor had any of the Dwarves I’d known ntioned it.
“Interesting, indeed. So, shall we?” Bowen asked, dropping the armor piece on the ground.
Lord Vasquez nodded, and Bowen pushed the iron gate open with an eerie creak. We had to walk through the open grounds and past a fancy fountain. The space was large enough to have two carriages side by side that whoever visited could be dropped off at the front door. Stone pillars supported the overhang, and once we separated, my group made it to the grand double doors leading to the mansion.
I guided mana to my eyes, used Soulsight, and checked the ho, but nothing popped out at . Just the usual faint glow from the dungeon as I had seen before.
“I don’t see any enemies in the building,” I said.
“It doesn’t an there aren’t traps. I’ll lead from the front,” Professor Garrison said, a shield appearing out of thin air.
Professor Garrison strapped the Dwarven Steel shield to his arm and opened the door with his shoulder. There was a mont of hesitation, but nothing shot out at us. The entry building was dark, and only the light from the dungeon made its way through the glass. I was ready to get a light source out, but a myriad of noises ca first.
It sounded like gears moving, and I could hear the distinct noise of sothing moving through pipes. A noise like sothing igniting sounded off close to the ceiling, and the room flashed with a light as torches sprang to life.
The entryway of the mansion was even more ostentatious than the exterior. The stone walls had dark wooden paneling, and an intricate and beautiful beige carpet flanked the polished stone path. A grand carpeted staircase led to the second floor, and the room was adorned with eye-catching stone facades. Stone arches reached the ceiling and gave the space a vast feeling as golden torches rested in sconces.
There was just another problem.
“Are we going to be dealing with these guys now? Why are there just skeletons standing around everywhere?” Varnir complained as he gripped his spear a little tighter.
Another skeleton was standing out in the open. It was taller and appeared to once be a Human man wearing a fitting black suit. Professor Garrison cautiously approached it and gave it a nudge with his shield only for it to crumble into pieces like the others.
Professor Garrison nudged the pile of bones with his armored foot. “What a warm welco,” he groaned.
“A Human servant? Perhaps a slave or just a worker? That ans these Dwarves existed at the sa ti as Humans did…mmm,” Bowen humd.
I heard magic go off to my left, and Bowen launched himself into the room using a stone platform. He went to investigate the torches and marveled at them.
“I can sll a faint odor of gas. And there appears to be a system piping the gas so the torches remain lit. There are even runes I’m unfamiliar with…I should write these down before we leave. But wouldn’t all of this slly gas eventually cause health problems and have a risk of fire and explosions? How would they minimize the danger? I’ve never seen anything like this in my entire life. Fascinating,” Bowen said, his voice full of wonder.
Bowen stopped scratching his beard and pointed to the top of the staircase. “A painting of a man!”
Bowen let the earth tower fall apart as he jumped down and climbed the stairs. We joined him and looked up at the large portrait. There was much to see.
“This must be the owner of this place. He is clearly more Dwarf-like in his facial appearance, with his broad shoulders, but he has a neater, shorter, and trimd beard than most of the Dwarven nobility in Krunbar. But look at his left ear…it has a slight point to it. Almost like that of a Dwarf mixed with the blood of an Elf,” Bowen explained.
Cerila pointed out.
I signed in agreent.
“And this outfit. Intricately woven robes with armor atop. It’s reminiscent of Dwarves, but the style of armor isn’t what Krunbar uses,” Bowen mused.
“Then we may be looking for this guy’s study or room. Let’s split up for a bit and find sothing of use. We have a lot of ground to cover—Varnir, co with . Sylvia, go with Bowen just in case he does sothing he shouldn’t,” Professor Garrison sighed.
“Be careful, Kaladin. I have a bad feeling about this place,” Sylvia said worriedly.
“I will,” I told her.
I signed to Cerila.
Cerila ca with back down the stairs, and we went to the right side. The first room was a small sitting room with so chairs and couches. The two of us riffled through the pillows and drawers of the stands, but there wasn’t so much as a scrap of paper. Also, adding to this place’s eerie nature, things were just too clean. There was very little dust on the furniture or window sill, and the carpet and furniture looked to be in pristine condition, far from what was expected of an abandoned mansion in a floating dungeon filled with the undead.
We finished searching the room, but with nothing of interest, we went to the next. It was another double door, and when Cerila opened it, she jumped backward and unsheathed Hubris in a flash.
What the hell is this place?
Just beyond the doorway, another servant skeleton bowed as if greeting us. The room was a large banquet hall with a sizable dance floor and dozens of glass windows. A crystal chandelier hung in the center. The sa gas torches lit the entire place. It even had tables lining the sides and more skeleton servants putting down empty plates or carrying glass drinking cups with nothing in them. I used Soulsight again, but once more, I saw nothing that stood out.
I used my spear to knock over the skeleton, and it fell apart. Instead of leaving it, I riffled through its pockets only to find a pin attached to its collar. It was made of iron but had the sa symbol as the guard’s breastplate. I pocked the pin into my Spatial Ring and motioned for Cerila to follow into the room.
She took one side of the dance hall, and I did the other. I went over to a table where skeleton maids were setting a table, and never in my life had I wanted not to find anything as I lifted the golden cover of a serving dish. Thankfully, there was nothing, no food or sothing worse.
After checking the other tables and knocking over a few more skeletons along with their dishes and plates, Cerila and I swept the entire room and went to check on the backside. Cerila gave a nervous look; I could see the tip on her tail standing up as she gripped Hubris.
Cerila signed.
Perhaps her animal senses were telling her sothing I couldn’t notice. I tried to listen, but I didn’t hear anything of concern. Just us moving about the rooms and the occasional noise from the other two groups searching the ho.
I signed back.
I pushed the door to the back rooms open, and we found an eerily quiet kitchen. It was large, with stone ovens and even more skeleton servants. So of them looked to be in motion, holding a pan ready to cook an invisible al. Others were hauling more plates and glasses to the venue. It was like a party of the undead stuck in ti.
We searched the kitchen together and found things one would typically see: utensils, glassware, and cooking gear, but no food supplies. The shelves where food could be stored were barren. After we finished there, we left through another door and went into a hallway that had even more rooms.
Cerila and I went through each room, trying to find anything of use, but it was beginning to get frustrating. I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything. It took us weeks to make sense of the toll booth situation.
This place was even more complex. But with everything we’ve seen so far, there had to be so answer here in this mansion. After searching so of the back rooms and finding nothing, I figured that whatever was important was on the higher levels. I took Cerila, and we went back to the entryway to regroup with the others.
As we were going up the stairs, Cerila asked,
I stopped and turned back to look at the front door. I didn’t notice, but the doors to the mansion were closed, and the bone pile of the servant that greeted us wasn’t there. There was a chance Bowen picked the pile up for research, but…
Why was the door closed?
…
No, guests have arrived in this place—uninvited ones at that.
Cerila asked worriedly.
I told her.
We rushed up the stairs, and I led us toward the sound of voices. I threw open a door, and Varnir raised an eyebrow at us as Professor Garrison stood up from the floor after checking under a bed.
“Did you find sothing?” Professor Garrison asked.
“No, but sothing is happening in this mansion. Did Bowen or Sylvia grab the bone pile at the front door, and did either of you close them?” I asked.
The two of them exchanged quick glances, and Varnir shook his head. “It was open when we ca upstairs, and I didn’t see either of them touch it,” Varnir explained.
“Then let’s go find them together,” I said.
Everyone agreed, and we went up the stairs to the third floor. Bowen and Sylvia were in a mostly empty library, casually checking over books.
I sighed in relief and asked, “Did you take the bones from that first servant?”
Bowen chuckled. “I did, along with its clothes. I figured it would be good to take a look at them once we got out of here. We’ve even found so interesting books in here that are written in an unknown language,” Bowen said.
“What about the front door? Did you guys close that?” Varnir asked.
“I heard it close, along with the sound of gears or sothing. I think it just did it automatically,” Sylvia explained.
Was I overreacting? No…not entirely, as even Cerila is feeling that there’s sothing wrong with this place.
“This mansion is so vast that it may take over an hour to even search through the first two floors. The others are still outside. I say we stay here for the night and make sure to get everything before we leave,” Bowen suggested.
“What about the toll bridge? We could be stuck here indefinitely if it decides to leave and never return,” Professor Garrison argued.
“Then I think we should see if it will stay before we settle down. Maybe if we pay it a certain amount, it won’t leave,” Bowen said with a shrug.
“Then let’s consult with the others before we make a decision. I also think this place holds so valuable information. No one has ever co across a building like this in the Iron Citadel before,” Professor Garrison said.
Great…
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