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DEATHTRAP by Philip Sadler

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PROLOGUE

Baron Sukumvit's Deathtrap Dungeon is now famous all over Titan. It is well known that he first tested his dungeon
by sending in a troop of ten of his best guards, who of course were never seen again.

Except that one of them was.

This was said to have angered the baron so greatly that he had the surviving guard killed on the spot. Others say that
this is simply not true and that the Baron allowed the guard to live and showered him with treasure. Yet others say that
the guard was given a few gold pieces and told to leave the city of Fang and never return. There is even a small group
of people who suggest that the guard is still in there and that he was never meant to leave, but rather is now doomed to
wander its corridors until it he is beaten.

Of course there are many who say that most if not all of the above are just fanciful thinking and that the idea of a
survivor was just a rumour manufactured by the Baron's brother Lord Carnuss to make him look bad, or perhaps even
made up the Baron himself to make sure the dungeon looked a little beatable in case no adventurers dared to step
forward.

In either case it is now generally accepted that regardless of what happened to the troop of guards that first ventured
into the infamous 'Deathtrap', that there was another group of people sent in some weeks later. It is this information
that has sent tongues wagging and imaginations running: why would the Barron send in two groups of people if none
of the first survived?

Sufficed to say that the second group consisted, not of a troop of guards, but rather of a hand-picked cluster of
seasoned adventurers.

The idea behind this was said to have been that guards, even well-trained ones, are simply good at protecting people
and their property, and not at infiltrating deadly labyrinths full of traps and powerful monsters. Even better, if one of
these new adventurers somehow did survive he could tell the Baron where he could improve his dungeon; where it
was too difficult or too easy, where the way was too convoluted or too obvious, which monsters were unbeatable and
which posed no challenge. In other words these hardened adventurers could test the dungeon with their very lives.

One of these adventurers is you.

BACKGROUND

You stand shoulder to shoulder with the other hired contestants in Baron Sukumvit's opulent palace. The Baron is
seated upon a golden throne which itself rests on a raised stone plinth at the far end of this, his main room. Either side
of the throne stands a heavily armoured giant of a man. Each of these men is dressed in thick spiked armour and holds
a heavy sword as long as your body. Behind them are an entire troop of the Baron's finest guards, each standing
motionless but resplendent in their polished armour. Indeed, as the light cascades down from the high windows that
look in upon the palace, it hits the troop and causes so much shine that it threatens to dazzle you.

Looking to your left and right you take notice of a further smaller troop of guards lining either side of the room
leading to the Barron's throne. You get the feeling that several baleful glares are boring into you from at least a few of
them. You almost also get the feeling of being totally hemmed in and waiting for death the moment their Lord raised
his finger, were it not for the breeze gently bathing your back due to the large open double doors behind you. Those
doors are not guarded and you could leave at any time.

Probably.

The Baron stands up and what little noise there was disappears. You take this moment to examine the Lord of this
place and find him to look older than you expected but that could be because he has a long beard that is already
turning white. Your eyes are soon drawn to his somewhat ridiculous costume. It comprises of long flowing robes
which feature ludicrously baggy sleeves that themselves have some strange sort of drape hanging over them with what
you assume to be the Baron's insignia embroidered upon them. This embroidery is of a triangle with a sort of ring
around part of it and a curious symbol of some sort of magical sign within it. This sign is hard to describe but to your
eyes the most fitting comparison would be a lightning bolt. To top of this outfit is the most outlandish hat you have
ever witnessed. It is so large that not only does it cover the wearer's head, but also his shoulders, neck and upper chest.
In truth, the more you look at it, the more it resembles a huge mask with a bearded face peeping out from within it.
Atop this hat rests what seems to be some sort of large jewel, or perhaps just an odd decoration. Below that sits no less
than an animal's skull with four ornate horns coming from it!

The Baron Speaks.

His voice is lighter than you expected but is still obviously used to command such is the tone and intonation; that of a
leader, one who is used to being obeyed.

"My friends," he intones, "I'm very glad to have made your acquaintances and I hope that you have all enjoyed your
stay here in my little town of Fang."

It's certainly true that you've been living in quite a bit of luxury in this small town, what with a room of your own, a
warm bed, soft pillows, your own desk and a selection of books, not to mention all of the free food you've been given.
In fact you've had the run of both the palace and the town itself.

Well nearly.

No matter where you went you were watched by at least one guard and more often than not two. Obviously they were
wise enough to keep a discreet distance so that not too many people took notice and not too many people started
asking awkward questions. This was to make sure that no one knew why you or the other adventurers were here.
Come to think of it you didn't really know for certain yourself.

"You have all been chosen with the utmost care from all around Titan," continues the Baron, each of you an expert in
your field. It is for this reason why you are now here. I want real explorers to walk my dungeon, explorers such as
yourselves who are not afraid to get their hands bloody."

Surely he means 'dirty'?

"I'm sure you've all heard the rumours of my last troop of ten guards that entered my dungeon?"

There is a general murmur of agreement and a nodding of heads amongst your fellow contestants.

"Well I can assure that no one has ever yet survived my dungeon."

There is a quiet outbreak of whispering at this revelation, to which the Baron holds up a hand, indicating he requires
silence.

"However, although they were good guards they were not veteran fortune-hunters such as yourselves. Also, they were
uniformly just solid fighters and not skilled in many areas such as I'm sure all of you are."

Here he pauses and surveys both you and the rest of the 'fortune-hunters' next to you. For a single moment he rests his
eyes on you and you feel them boring into your mind, probing, seeking, asking questions. Then it passes.

"I know you have all been ordered not to speak to each other during your time in Fang or even to acknowledge each
other's presence and I'm pleased to note that all ten of you have done as I have asked."

Ten? You know for sure that when you signed up for this there were eleven of you in total! You well remember that
day and you well remember each of the other people now ranged in a line either side of you: a paladin, barbarian,
ninja, knight, elf, beast master, ranger, wizard, gladiator and a cleric. Except that the cleric is now nowhere to be seen!
To your left and right some people shuffle uncomfortably, clearly just as aware as you are that something is wrong.
However, you get the feeling that to voice your concerns would almost certainly be a sentence of death. That is to say
that the Baron would have some excuse ready for you and then have your throat slit in the middle of the night. Unless
… you are imagining things and there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for the cleric's absence: perhaps he had to
leave or ran away or got into a fight or became ill? Then why is the Baron not saying any of these this?

"Each of you has pleased me with your conduct in my town and I now give you all my personal permission to speak to
each other."

His 'permission'? Who does he think he is? Why are you suddenly allowed to start speaking to each other now?

At first there is silence and a general shifting of feet. Slowly, this subsides and some of the contestants do indeed start
speaking to each other. You however take this moment to distance yourself from your 'comrades' and to examine them
instead, probing each one for a weakness, much as you feel the Baron probed your mind a few minutes ago.

First, standing motionless and stony-faced, is the paladin. A tall man with a palpable sense of power, not physical but
rather spiritual, giving him an air of righteousness and of unshakable faith. He is armed with a mace and has a large
almost triangular shield decorated with what you assume to be religious symbols. His armour is old and scratched but
still polished to quite a shine. Apart from this he has no adornments what so ever, as if he had simply rejected
anything not deemed absolutely necessary.

Next to him and equally unmoving is the giant barbarian. Towering above everybody else and easily dwarfing their
builds, he stands straight-backed with his hands clasped on the hilt of his colossal battle-axe. Although he is
motionless you note the way his eyes cautiously survey the other contestants, rather like you are doing, although
somewhat less obviously. You are surprised to notice that he isn't wearing any armour whatsoever, even to the point
that he is barefoot. The only thing he is wearing at all is a loin cloth. Such is the way of barbarians.

Standing at a distance from them is the black-garbed ninja. Every inch of him is covered, apart from his eyes, which
you are startled to find are looking right at you! So piercing is his black-eyed gaze that you are forced to look away for
fear of making an enemy before you even enter the dungeon. After a minute you slowly look back and note that the
ninja is now surveying the barbarian and the cleric. Ranged about the ninja's belt are various tools of killing:
shurikens, a garrotte, needles dripping with what you guess to be poison and even a pair of 'cat's claws': a strange
glove-like weapon used for hand-to-hand combat. You get the feeling there is more to this man than meets the eye.

The knight stands as straight-backed as the barbarian and just as silent. You have no idea where he's looking because
the set of silver plate-armour that he's wearing includes a full helm with face visor, meaning that only two dark
narrow slits are available as ingress into that suit. He wields a sword and holds a square shield with a lion's roaring
face carved into it. Across his back is what you are amazed to find to be no less than a full-sized lance! Atop the
knight's shoulders rest exquisitely carved dragons, and on his chest is painted the image of snarling bear. Quite the
sight.

Swaggering around the room and chatting amiably is a tall beautiful elf, no doubt some sort of battle maiden, yet she
has her face and body painted and her teeth filed to a point, giving her an eerie look that's in juxtaposition to her

beauty. The more you look at this smiling woman the more you note a look of savagery in her eyes and general
demeanour: her wild hair, her muscled body. She is armed with nothing more than a wooden club, an old sling and a
roughly hewn dagger. She wears no armour. You get the feeling that there is something primeval about this woman.
Then it hits you: she is not an elf, per say, but rather she is one of the little-known Wild Elves.

Talking to her and smiling grimly in one corner is a great bear of a man, second only to the barbarian in height and
build. He is dressed in great shaggy animal furs and wears no less than a full lion's head as a helm! Ranged about his
shoulders are the skulls of two large monsters. He wields a great two-headed war hammer with a horned skull attached
to the bottom of it. You take this man to be a beast master: someone who makes it his business to rid the world of
troublesome animals. You follow his gaze and notice his grim smile is aimed at a ranger.

The ranger is dressed in green and wears a long cloak. He also has a range of daggers arrayed about his belt, a short
sword in his hand and a bow and arrows slung across his back. His eyes move from the beast master and onto the
savage-looking wild elf, who smiles at him just as grimly as the beast master did. The ranger begins to walk over to
her and you note his self-assured stride and his confident movements and gestures.

Looking at all this and talking quietly to another contestant is a wizard. Dressed in great flowing robes, rather like
Baron Sukumvit himself, he gently commands the space because of an aura of power that pervades him, similar to the
paladin, only more overt. His face is mild and his temperament seems almost placid but you get the feeling that this is
because he is trying to hide his true power. At his waist rests a short wand covered in runes and in his hands is a long
staff with a man's skull on the end. The staff and the skull are also covered in runes.

The man the wizard is talking to makes an unlikely companion for him. That is because he is a gladiator. Dressed in
scraps of ill-fitting armour and wielding a trident and a net with a sword slung across his back, he makes an odd yet
still impressive sight. After all it is a gladiator's business to fight, it's how he makes his living. For this reason you
sense that he is just as much a dangerous warrior as the barbarian.

What of the cleric though?

The Baron suddenly claps his hands and the room falls silent as you and the other adventurers fall back into line. "I
have watched you all since I first met you, and in those few short days I have come to think of you all as worthy
champions."

You well remember that day.

It was a very sunny day and rather hot, everything looked beautiful and shining. The streets steamed. Yet there in the
palace you had never felt so alone, surrounded by guards as you were, mere hours after answering the discreet notice
in one of the less disgusting watering holes that Fang has to offer:

'Baron Sukumvit welcomes all adventurers to help make the final adjustments to his Deathtrap
Dungeon. A reward for services rendered will stand at no less than 1000 gold pieces per head. Apply to the
chief of guards at his grace's palace.'

Polite, concise and to the point. Evidently, it did not mention the bit about 'almost certain death'. Still, you owe people
money and if they find you and you don’t have it you're as good as dead anyway. More importantly, perhaps you
could put some of the money to good use and do a bit of good? So you went to the palace almost straight away.

It was cold in there despite the heat and you kept getting the impression that you had just willing walked into a lion's
den. The Baron sat you down and explained his predicament about needing real adventures such as yourself and that
you could have the run of the town for a few days if you agreed and your throat cut if you didn't. Obviously that last
bit wasn't said out loud but it was there alright, in the silences between words, in the looks exchanged between
Sukumvit and his guards. So you agreed.

And here you find yourself.

"I'm sure each of you will make me very proud," he says with a not unkind smile. "Now please give me your best
warrior's salutes and I will have you escorted to the entrance of the dungeon."

Some of your fellow contestants look at each other: 'Warrior's salutes'? What on earth did the old man mean. The
knight however, steps forward in his clanking armour and raises one shining armoured fist to his chest and then pulls
it straight back down to his waist before stepping back into line. The gladiator and wizard follow suit, as does the wild
elf, except that she does it haphazardly and with a grin and a laugh. The ranger, paladin and ninja follow suit, if
somewhat more reluctantly. The beast master just nods his head slightly and raises it with his usual grim smile. The
barbarian stands motionless and so do you.

"So be it," says the Baron with a knowing smile, "now we must be on our way. Guards, escort them."

No fewer than forty guards surround you and walk you from the palace and to the entrance of the dungeon. Indeed
there are so many guards that, for a passerby, it would be difficult to tell what it was that they were guarding. You
suspect that this is the general idea. Having said that, the streets seem strangely quiet, a bit too quiet for your liking,
even though it's still early. It's almost as if the Baron has wilfully let it be known that the streets should be deserted at
this time because the only people around are homeless beggars and grinning madmen.

Off through the dusty, sleepy streets you're marched, surrounded in a square of steel, everyone silent apart from the
laughing elf. The few normal people you do pass quickly look the other way and, around you, several curtains are
drawn and a few doors are slammed shut.

At last you reach the entrance of the dungeon itself, cut right into the living hillside and stretching under it for
supposedly miles. The guards arrange themselves so that there is now a gap and that gap stares straight into the
dungeon, looking for all the world like an open grave. The entrance is carved with skulls and snakes and demons and
all manner of evil looking creatures. You more you stare into it the more it starts to resemble some ancient pit of some
hellish dimension.

It is at that moment that the head guard walks towards your little group and hands each of you a small piece of paper.

"On this paper you will find a number. That number will tell you in which place you will enter the dungeon in."

You look at your paper: 'Ten'. It seems you're going in last. You don't know whether to be grateful or dismayed.

Murmurs break out around you as the other contestants discover their own numbers. There are even a few arguments
and raised voiced as some of them are obviously less than pleased.

"After the first contestant has gone in you will each wait five minutes before you go next in line according to your
number. Anyone found breaking this rule will be dealt with."

Executed?

After a few more arguments, raised voices and no little pushing and shoving the first person goes in: it's the ninja. He
walks on in silence. Then the ranger, who winks at the elf, causing her to laugh. Then the beast master, smiling grimly
as ever. After him goes in the knight, clanking away, followed by the silent barbarian, swaggering elf and the pious
paladin, then the gladiator and finally the wizard. You note that the last two shake hands before they enter.

Now it's your turn.

You stand there bathed in sunlight and surrounded by people. Yet you feel cold and alone, much as you had done at
the palace that first time. You check your things one last time: leather armour, sword, backpack and some paper,
pencils and a compass to help you make a map. Now you take one last look at the blue sky and step forwards.

"Good luck."

You turn around and find someone standing amidst the guards: the Barron.

You thank him and walk away from the light, and into darkness.

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NOTES

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