DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Fun & Games ETD: Escape the Dream Episode III: The Sixfold Seal

You stand before a pair of heavy stone doors at the end of a narrow passageway.

They are not especially decorative. There are no skulls carved into them, no ominous warnings, no fresh bloodstains, no chanting cultists, and no helpful sign reading Certain Doom This Way.

This, naturally, makes them suspicious.

The doors open inward with only the slightest push.

Beyond is a wide, many-sided chamber of smooth gray stone. The air smells faintly of dust, candle wax, and old magic. Six passageways lead away from the central room like spokes from a wheel: northeast, east, southeast, southwest, west, and northwest. A seventh doorway, directly north, is sealed by a great stone door bearing six keyholes arranged in a circle.

At the center of the chamber stands a low stone pedestal. Upon it is a carved circle divided by lines and numbers, though some of the markings are difficult to make out beneath the dust.

On the north wall, flanking the sealed door, stand two stone guardians. They are tall, broad, solemn, and almost certainly too heavy to move. Their eyes glow faintly blue.

The moment the last of you steps inside, the entrance doors swing shut behind you.

There is a thunderclap.

A cloud of glittering lights bursts from the central pedestal and swirls upward, arranging itself across the ceiling like a constellation of tiny candles.

Then, standing dramatically atop the pedestal where no one had been a moment before, appears a tall, narrow man in a robe patterned with moons, stars, comets, and what appears to be one embroidered duck. He wears a pointed hat. His beard is long. His staff is taller than he is, and a crystal in its gnarled tip glows with theatrical importance.

He spreads his arms.

"Greetings, travelers! Welcome, welcome, welcome to..."

He pauses, glances upward, waits for the candlelights to flare brighter, and then continues.

"The Sixfold Seal!"

The blue-eyed stone guardians do not applaud.

The wizard continues anyway.

"I am Conundromus, Archmage, Artificer of Astonishments, Constructor of Confinements, and Master of Moderately Safe Magical Entertainment. You have entered a pocket dungeon of my own design. The door behind you is closed. The door before you is sealed. Six keys are hidden within six trials. Find them, use them, and the way forward shall open."

He leans slightly forward, lowering his voice.

"Fail, and you shall remain trapped here forever."

A pause to let that sink in.

"Or until I remember to let you out. Whichever comes first. Legal counsel insists I clarify these things."

He taps the pedestal with his staff.

"The six chambers may be explored in any order. Some can be solved by logic. Some by observation. Some by experimentation. Some by being very, very good at finding things I was certain I had hidden better. And yes, before anyone asks, there may be clues in one chamber that help you in another. I am generous that way. Also vain. Mostly vain."

With another gesture, six small flames appear above the six passageways. Near each entrance, a painted panel shimmers into view upon the wall.

"Observe! Each passage bears a painting. Symbolism! Foreshadowing! Interior decoration! Ignore them at your peril, or admire them at your leisure."

He points his staff toward the stone guardians.

"If you become hopelessly, tragically, embarrassingly stuck, you may ask one of my guardians for a clue. They are not conversationalists. But they are reliable."

One guardian's eyes brighten.

In a voice like two millstones politely disagreeing, it says:

"Clue?"

Conundromus beams.

"See? Splendid."

He lifts one finger.

"A few rules before we begin. This is a puzzle adventure, not a battle to the death. You may search, experiment, reason, roleplay, and roll dice. A poor roll will not make the room unsolvable. It may simply mean you receive a less complete clue, attract a nuisance, or have to try another approach. A good roll may reveal a hidden object, shortcut, or useful connection to another chamber."

He lifts a second finger.

"Also, certain decorative objects are marked with small signs reading Do Not Touch. These should not be touched. This is not because I am hiding the best treasure there. It is because touching them may result in Certain Doom."

He pauses, then adds, "Possibly Mild Doom. Again, legal counsel."

The floating candlelights above you flicker, though not in any especially urgent way.

Conundromus steps backward into a puff of silver smoke.

His voice echoes from everywhere at once.

"Six keys. Six trials. One sealed door. Do try to look clever while escaping."

The smoke clears.

The chamber is yours.

---

What you can see

The central chamber contains:

• The sealed northern door, with six keyholes arranged in a circle.
• A central stone pedestal, carved with a circular pattern and partially visible numbers.
• Two stone guardians, who appear to respond to the word "clue."
• Six passageways, each with a painted panel near its entrance.
• A length of rope, coiled near one wall.
• A few loose stones and dusty corners that may be worth inspecting.

The six passageways are:

Northeast Passage: The Bright Corridor

A painting beside the arch shows a polished shield turning aside a lance of golden light.

East Passage: The Labyrinth Door

A painting beside the arch shows a glass lens held over a map, revealing a hidden path in red ink.

Southeast Passage: The Wizard's Study

A painting beside the arch shows a stone sundial beneath a perfect noon-shadow.

Southwest Passage: The Silent Crypt

A painting beside the arch shows a hearth-fire driving pale figures back into their coffins.

West Passage: The Game Room

A painting beside the arch shows a white chess piece standing triumphant before a black king.

Northwest Passage: The Smoke Tunnel

A painting beside the arch shows a great fan blowing dark smoke away from an iron key.

---

Current State

Keys Found: 0 / 6
Clues Requested: 0
Known Useful Items: none yet
Available Exits: Bright Corridor, Labyrinth Door, Wizard's Study, Silent Crypt, Game Room, Smoke Tunnel
Candle-Lights: Numerous, dramatic, and probably not as urgent as Conundromus implied

Try to clear some of the dust from the pedestal. Blow hard or use a bit of clothing.

The dust on the pedestal is old, soft, and dry enough that even a careful breath sends it curling away in little gray clouds.

For a moment, the candle-lights overhead shimmer in the disturbed air.

Beneath the dust, the top of the pedestal proves to be carved with a three-by-three grid, though the lines are arranged within a circular border rather than a square frame. Three of the spaces are clearly marked.

From top to bottom, down the center column, the numbers read 7, 5, 3.



The remaining spaces are blank... or perhaps meant to be filled by something elsewhere.

Around the edge of the circle, tiny carved words appear, now that the dust is gone: All paths balance.

(Not playing, but I know of two possible ways to complete this.)

Examines the numbers, thinks it could be a magic square 276, 951, 438

Walks around to look at the 6 pictures.

{OOC And Argus you are welcome to input whenever you like! ]

(And the "other" way to complete that would have been a flip around the provided column; 672 etc.)

As you walk around to look at the paintings, you note that underneath each one is a small tile with a number on it.

Well, not all of them. Two seem to be missing. The northeast and southwest passages have blank squares where it seems there should be a tile.

But the northwest passage has a 2 under the panting, the west passage a 9, the east passage a 1, and the southeast passage an 8.

This certainly seems to align with your guess that it could be a magic square.

And do the paintings themselves depict anything?

The previously provided descriptions give the essential information anyone other than an art critic would take from the paintings.

Roll 1d20 for more insight

Pick up the rope and search the debris for anything useful.

You pick up the rope and find underneath it a square tile with the number '4' on it.

Similarly, looking around the loose stones, you find another square tile, this one with the number '6' on it.

Do these look as if they would fit into the magic square?

Take a look down each passageway to see if I can see anything different about them?

The '4' and '6' tiles look as if they would fit into the blank squares under the northeast and southwest paintings, as if they probably came from there.

As for the passages, there are six of them. And six locks.

You don't think that's a coincidence.

You could probably pick a passage at random and eventually do all six.

Or, perhaps, you could try to figure out if there was an order, where one passage might help with the other and they might chain together in a nice sequence. Perhaps that might be what the paintings are about?

[OOC note] ... you asked for a D&D room and I may have taken it a bit too literally. This encounter may involve NPC monsters and fighting and die rolls for insight. I drew it from an online source where a DM actually ran this for their table, nerfing the monsters to avoid a TPK and removing time penalties.

The room is solvable but hard without clues. This is by design.

Asking specific questions and rolling dice for insight will probably give very helpful hints to give "shortcuts" to puzzles.

Bad rolls won't make a room unsolvable. They may result in a nuisance or distraction (in escape room terminology, a "red herring"). Good rolls may reveal extra details, hidden objects, or connections between rooms... something in one room that helps in another.

The paintings, number tiles, visible room features, and anything you find may matter in more than one place. Some puzzles can be solved directly, but finding something in one room may make another room easier or clearer.

You do not need to solve everything as a player from scratch. Your "character" can help... with a lucky die roll.

Understood. Fine with that!

Put the 4 into the hole under the NE corridor painting. And put the 6 into my pocket. Taking the rope, head into the NE corridor having taken a good look at the painting.

The number 4 tile fits into the empty recess beneath the northeast painting.

Mostly.

It slides into place, but not with the satisfying finality you might expect. One corner has a slight gap with the surrounding stone, and when you take your hand away, the tile gives the faintest little wobble.

Nothing explodes.

Also, nothing unlocks, brightens, chimes, hums, sings, applauds, or otherwise behaves like a properly satisfied magical mechanism.

You study the painting beside the northeast passage.

Gypsy NE Painting Insight
AquaDyne rolled 1d20 and got 20

As you do so, the meaning suddenly becomes much clearer. This is not just a picture of a shield and a beam of light. It is a warning and a hint.

The painted "lance" is not a weapon held by a knight, free or otherwise. It is a narrow shaft of golden radiance, exactly the sort of thing that might be found in the Bright Corridor beyond. The shield is angled, polished, and mirror-bright, catching the ray and turning it aside rather than merely blocking it.

You get the sense that whoever painted this wanted the viewer to understand three things:

First, the northeast passage is probably full of dangerous light. Second, the light may be deflected rather than endured. Third, the shield in the painting feels specific. Not just any shield, but a particular mirrored shield, perhaps hidden or earned elsewhere.

The painting does not show where the shield is, but the style of the figure holding it is oddly formal, almost like a game piece or ceremonial knight.

Ahead, the Bright Corridor waits.

From where you stand, you can see thin golden beams crossing the passage at sharp angles. They shimmer in the air like taut strings of sunlight. At the far end, something metallic gleams on a small pedestal.

The rope is in your hand.

The 6 tile is in your pocket.

The slightly loose 4 tile rests beneath the painting behind you.

Remove the 4 tile - if I can - and think maybe I can find a shield elsewhere.

Put the 6 tile in its hole, paying much more attention to how well it fits. Study the picture again. It sould like I need fire for this one. Look around for anything else that might be useful.

You swap out the 4 for the 6. It clicks smartly into position, making you rather certain in your original guess.

The picture showed a mirror deflecting the light.

Your options seem to be to proceed ahead and try to dodge the light beams in some manner, or go find that mirror, perhaps where some game piece or ceremonial knight might be.

There's fire involved on another painting... if you wanted to study that one. (And roll for insight.)

[OOC: Insight = 17]

Then take the 4 and see if that fits in the chessgame hole.

The number 4 does not seem to belong near the Game Room. The recess there already bears its number, and there is no empty place for the tile to settle.

But when you bring the 4 back toward the southwest passage, the one marked by the painting of a hearth-fire driving pale figures back into their coffins; the tile changes.

It grows warmer in your hand.

Not hot. Not painful. Just unmistakably awake.

The blank recess beneath the Silent Crypt painting is the exact size and shape of the tile. When you press the 4 into place, it slides in smoothly.

This time, there is no wobble. There is a deep stone click.

The painted hearth-fire flickers with a sudden ember-red glow. The pale figures in the painting seem to shrink back from it. Somewhere behind the wall, old mechanisms begin to move: first one heavy bolt, then another, then another, each answering the last from deeper within the stone.

A narrow seam appears beneath the painting.

Dust spills from it in a thin gray line.

The wall of the southwest passage shifts inward by a finger’s width, revealing the edge of a hidden door.

The Silent Crypt is no longer sealed.

But.... your interest is in the Game Room...

You study the painting beside the west passage, the one showing a white chess piece standing triumphant before a black king.

With your earlier insight into the Bright Corridor still fresh in mind, the connection sharpens.

The figure in the light-painting held a mirror-bright shield. This painting does not show a mirror directly, but the victorious white piece has the same stiff, formal posture as the figure in the other painting. Not a warrior exactly. More like a carved knight from a game board, posed as if it has won by position rather than strength.

The black king in the painting is not shattered, burned, or slain. It is simply defeated.

This room is probably not asking you to overpower something. It is asking you to win, or recognize a winning move.

And if the paintings are telling a chain of useful connections, then the Game Room may be where the mirror-bright shield from the Bright Corridor clue can be found.

The passage beyond the painting is quiet. From within, you can just make out pale squares on the floor, alternating light and dark, like a giant chessboard.

OK looks like the Silent Crypt is the way to start. Examine the painting in more detail (insight) and also see if it moves to reveal anything behind it.

Rolled 20 for insight! It will fail me when I most need it

You look closer at the Silent Crypt painting.

At first glance, it is simple enough: a hearth-fire, pale figures, coffins.

But the longer you study it, the clearer the details become.

The pale figures are not being burned. They are not destroyed. They are retreating. Their hands are raised, their faces turned away, their bodies angled backward toward the open coffins behind them.

The fire is not shown as a weapon.

It is shown as a boundary.

The painted hearth sits in the exact center of the scene, and the pale figures will not cross its light. Even the brushstrokes around the flames are different from the rest of the painting: brighter, sharper, almost alive.

You are quite certain of several things:

First, the crypt beyond this passage is likely to contain something dead, restless, or at least theatrically undead.

Second, fighting it is probably not the intended solution.

Third, fire will matter... not necessarily to destroy the dead, but to make them withdraw, hold them at bay, or persuade them to return to where they belong.

Fourth, a small flame may not be enough. The painting shows a proper hearth-fire, something with fuel beneath it, not merely a candle or spark. You think, perhaps, this puzzle might be easier if you bring combustible material in with you.

The newly opened passage to the Silent Crypt smells faintly of dust, cold stone, and old ashes.

Somewhere within, something gives a dry little scrape.

Then silence.

From somewhere overhead, Conundromus’ voice murmurs, “Ah, excellent. The dice have chosen suspense over sabotage. For now.”

Looking for something that will burn. Thinking the Wizard's study is most likely. Study the painting.

If I can't see anything obvious, I may try an insight.

You study the painting beside the southeast passage: the stone sundial beneath a perfect noon-shadow.

Gypsy Study painting insight
AquaDyne rolled 1d20 and got 17

At first, the meaning seems obvious enough. Sundial. Noon. Shadow. But with the thought of the Silent Crypt still in mind, more details begin to stand out.

The painted sundial is not shown outdoors. It stands inside a cluttered chamber, surrounded by shelves, broken wood, and scattered objects. The light striking it is strangely deliberate, as if someone has arranged the room so that one particular shadow falls exactly where it should.

You are fairly certain this painting is telling you two things.

First, the Wizard’s Study has its own puzzle, and that puzzle has something to do with making the sundial show noon.

Second, your guess about fuel feels promising. If any room in this place is likely to contain old furniture, loose wood, paper, books, candles, or other things that might help make a proper sustained fire, it would be a wizard’s study.

The southeast passage waits quietly beneath the sundial painting.

But I need an 8 to enter this passage...

So thinking about the order of corridors, I think I need to do W (9) before NE (6) and do SE (8) before SW (4). But I don't have the 9 or the 8. Unless the 6 can be turned upsidedown and used as a 9?

Not yet sure about the E Labyrinth (1) or the NW Smoke tunnel (2).

Also look again around the room for anything that might be possible to take with me.. a light (candle) for example?

All the paintings except the ones with 6 and 4 had their numbers installed already. Those were the only ones missing.

When you put the 4 in the crypt square, it seemed to unlock something. The 6 may have just been a way to make the 4's spot not so obvious.

So far you have examined 4 paintings, rolled really well, and have determined game room before bright corridor, and study before crypt.

You still have the rope you found earlier.

There are no candles here, but you recall from your earlier investigation of the Wizard's Study painting that you might find one in there.

Your options at this point seem to be:
- study the other two paintings
- go to the game room
- go to the study
- go to the other rooms that you know are harder

Let's try the study!

You step into the southeast passage marked with the painting of the sundial.

The central chamber smelled of dust and candle wax. This hallway smells of old paper, dry wood, and the faint metallic tang of magic left too long in one place.

The passage opens into what must once have been a wizard’s study.

"Once" may be more ancient than one might think.

The floor is littered with broken furniture: splintered chair legs, cracked shelves, warped drawer fronts, bits of table, and curled shavings of very dry wood. Much of it looks useless as furniture, but very promising as kindling.

Tall bookcases line most of the walls. Their shelves sag under the weight of ancient books, scroll-tubes, ledgers, and loose sheaves of parchment. Many of the books look brittle enough to crumble if handled carelessly.

In the center of the room stands a stone pedestal supporting a circular sundial. It is an odd thing to find indoors. Its gnomon points upward from the center. Around it are carved hour marks, with NOON marked more deeply than the rest.

The problem is immediately obvious.

There is far too much light.

Several bright orbs hover near the ceiling, drifting slowly in place. They shine from different directions, so the sundial has no single clear shadow. Instead, faint overlapping shadows point every which way and nowhere in particular.

On the far wall, opposite the entrance, is a boarded-up window. No daylight enters through it now, but its position lines up suspiciously well with the sundial.

You are fairly sure this room wants one clear light source, from the right direction, and all the other lights either moved, blocked, dimmed, or otherwise dealt with.

For your other purpose, the room is much more cooperative. There is plenty here that could serve as fuel: dry splinters, chair legs, scraps of shelf, curled paper, and perhaps even candles or lamp-stubs if you search the desks and shelves.

The room appears quiet.

The floating lights, however, seem to be watching you.

Happy to have a source of combustables but I need something to carry them in. Look around.

Examine the boarded window to see how easy it might be to unblock it.

See if there is anything that might be used to block the floating lights from the sundial.

Looking around for something to carry fuel in proves more successful than elegant.

Beneath a collapsed writing desk, you find an old canvas satchel. It is stiff with age, dusty, and embroidered with the words:

PROPERTY OF CONUNDROMUS
NOT FOR SNAKES

There are, fortunately, no snakes in it.

You think. Sometimes they hide well.

The satchel is large enough to hold a useful bundle of kindling: splintered chair legs, dry shelf fragments, curled scraps of parchment, and a few broken bits of drawer. It will not carry a bonfire, but it should carry enough fuel to make a proper small hearth-fire if you can get it lit.

Searching a little more, you also find three stubby wax candles in a cracked ceramic cup. One is bent nearly in half, but all three still have usable wicks.

The boarded window is less formidable than it first looked. The boards are old, dry, and nailed in place with rusted iron nails. A strong pull might loosen them, but a better approach would be to pry them up with one of the sturdier chair legs or broken shelf boards scattered around the room.

Through the narrow gaps between the boards, you can see not daylight exactly, but a pale golden glow — as though some artificial sun waits just beyond the wall.

The alignment is suspiciously perfect. If the boards came away, the light from that window would fall directly across the sundial from the far wall.

That still leaves the floating lights.

The orbs drift lazily near the ceiling, shining from several directions at once. They are not so much “in the way” as they are “ruining the shadow.” Every time the sundial tries to cast one clear line, another orb washes it out.

There are a few things you find when looking around:

- a dusty, moth-eaten curtain or wall hanging, fallen behind one bookcase
- several large cracked book covers, stiff enough to use like screens
- a dented brass lampshade with a soot-blackened inside
- a few broken drawer panels that could be leaned or held to block light

You still feel there may be more to find with a more dedicated search (OOC: roll required).

The little orbs continue to drift overhead.

One of them bobs lower, as if curious.

Then it bobs away again, pretending it was not curious at all.

Well seems seem to be looking up. Dust off the satchel, stuff it with said combustable for the hearth fire, add the candles, Once done set it by the exit so it is ready to grab if I have a hasty exit.

Keep an eye out for snakes, just in case.

I suppose I could try talking to the lights, they might be sentient? Pick up the lampshade.

"Err.. I don't suppose I could persuade you to duck under this lampshade for a few minutes. I would be very grateful."

Address my remarks towards the ceiling and watch to see what happens.

You pack the satchel with dry scraps of wood, splintered chair legs, curled parchment, and the three stubby candles. It is not a tidy bundle, but it is very definitely combustible.

You set it by the exit, ready to grab.

Then you pick up the dented brass lampshade, look up at the drifting lights, and make your polite request.

Gypsy Persuasion orbs
AquaDyne rolled 1d20 and got 6

For a moment, the orbs hover in silence.

Then one of them brightens. Another brightens too. A third zips behind a bookshelf, peeks out, and then darts away as though it has just performed an act of tremendous stealth.

The nearest orb descends toward the lampshade. It hovers just above the opening. This looks promising. Then it darts sideways.

Another orb immediately dives under the lampshade instead, causing the brass shade to glow like a tiny captured sunrise.

This also looks promising. Then the first orb bumps the outside of the lampshade. The second orb pops back out.

A third orb swoops down and circles your head.

The sundial’s shadows wobble wildly across the stone face.

You have definitely gotten their attention. You have not, however, gotten their cooperation.

At least not yet.

Still, you learn something useful: the lights can be influenced. They respond to voice, movement, and possibly novelty. They are not mindless fixtures. They can be lured, distracted, covered, or perhaps herded, but asking nicely once is not quite enough to make all of them sit still.

The boarded window remains closed, but the golden glow beyond it is steady and perfectly aligned with the sundial.

The orbs continue bobbing around the room, now clearly interested in the lampshade. One of them dips halfway into it again. Then backs out. Then dips in again.

"I'm going to let some light in so that I can see better, and then we'll play a game!"

Pulling the boards off the window and stacking them randomly.

"OK, how about a game of hide and seek? I will close my eyes and count to twenty. You have to hide but remember your light shines as a give away. Then after twenty I will try to find you. Ready?"

I close my eyes and count slowly. On ten I peek at the sundial.

The boards over the window are old, dry, and much less stubborn than they look.

The first one takes some effort. It creaks, bends, and then comes free with a dusty little shriek of rusted nails.

The second follows more easily.

By the third, you have the knack of it.

One by one, the boards come away, and with the last of them removed, a clear golden beam pours through the window.

It is not sunlight, exactly. There is no sky beyond the opening, no garden, no outer wall, no world. Just a steady, warm, magical radiance from somewhere outside the room, aimed with suspicious precision across the study.

The beam falls across the sundial.

For the first time, the gnomon casts one strong shadow.

Unfortunately, the floating orbs are still bobbing around overhead, washing it with extra light from every direction.

Then you announce the game.

The orbs stop. All of them.

For a moment, the room is very still.

Then the nearest orb gives a tiny delighted pulse.

Another zips behind a bookcase.

A third darts under the fallen curtain.

A fourth streaks up toward the ceiling, realizes that glowing in the open air is not a particularly convincing hiding place, and drops behind the dented brass lampshade instead.

The room becomes a flurry of poorly concealed lights.

You close your eyes and begin to count.

“One…”

The orbs scatter.

“Two…”

A glow leaks from behind a shelf.

“Three…”

Something bright squeezes itself into an empty scroll tube and immediately illuminates both ends.

“Four…”

The light on the sundial grows cleaner.

“Five…”

One orb wedges itself between two ancient books on a nearby shelf. The books shift. Something thin and rolled, tucked behind them, slides slightly forward before stopping against the shelf edge.

“Six…”

The rolled object remains there, half-hidden in shadow and dust.

“Seven…”

The sundial’s shadow sharpens.

“Eight…”

A glow leaks from behind a cracked book cover near the left side of the room.

“Nine…”

The shadow trembles, almost aligned.

“Ten…”

You risk a peek.

The sundial has changed.

With the window unblocked and most of the orbs trying very hard to hide, the confusing web of shadows is gone. One clear shadow stretches across the stone face.

It is close to the deeply carved NOON mark.

Very close.

Not perfect.

One orb, perhaps the least talented at hiding, is tucked behind a cracked book cover near the left side of the room. Its glow leaks around the edges just enough to pull the shadow slightly off true.

The orb seems very proud of itself.

On the bookshelf, the half-loosened rolled parchment remains visible where the other orb disturbed it.

You still have ten numbers left before you are expected to start seeking.

Continue the count whilst edging towards the parchment.

"Half way there!"

"Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen."

"Coming to find you very soon!"

Reach out and take the parchment.

"Sixteen."

Start heading to the light leaking from the bookshelf orb.

"Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Nearly ready! Are you hiding?"

Hold the parchement up to cover the leaking light and watch the sundial.

"Twenty! Coming ready or not!"

“Eleven…”

You edge toward the shelf.

The orbs remain very committed to hiding. Or at least to glowing from behind things and hoping that counts.

“Twelve…”

The rolled parchment sticks out just far enough to grasp.

“Thirteen…”

You ease it free.

Something on the shelf gives a tiny papery sigh, but nothing collapses.

“Fourteen…”

The parchment is old, dry, and tied with a faded blue cord. You do not have time to examine it properly yet.

“Fifteen.”

The orb behind the cracked book cover pulses brighter, which is a poor hiding strategy but an excellent expression of excitement.

“Coming to find you very soon!”

“Sixteen…”

You start toward the leaking light.

“Seventeen…”

The orb tries to dim itself.

It fails.

“Eighteen…”

The sundial’s shadow sharpens as you approach.

“Nineteen…”

You hold the rolled parchment up between the leaking orb and the sundial.

“Nearly ready! Are you hiding?”

The orb behind the book cover goes very still.

For one perfect moment, the only strong light in the room comes from the unboarded window. The golden beam falls cleanly across the sundial, and the gnomon casts one clear shadow.

The shadow slides across the carved face.

It touches NOON.

“Twenty! Coming ready or not!”

The sundial answers with a deep, satisfying stone click.

A hidden seam opens in the pedestal beneath it. Dust spills from the crack as a small compartment slides outward, revealing a copper key resting on a velvet pad so old that it has mostly given up being velvet.

At the same time, the orb behind the book cover bursts out with a delighted flash and zips away.

The other hidden orbs emerge too, one by one, clearly convinced that this has been an excellent game. One pops out from the empty scroll tube. One wriggles out from behind the curtain. Another floats proudly out from under the brass lampshade, as though it deserves a prize for superior concealment.

The parchment in your hand catches the golden window-light.

For a moment, the light shines through it.

Thin lines appear inside the parchment, darker than the rest, as though drawn in ink that only shows clearly when backlit. You can make out corridors, turns, dead ends, and a few small markings.

This is not just old parchment.

It appears to be a map.

The copper key waits in the opened sundial compartment.

Your satchel of kindling waits near the exit.

The orbs bob around the room in triumph, apparently expecting you to start seeking them properly now.

"Well I can see you all now!"

I point to all of them and then applaud.

"Great job hiding though guys!"

Excited by the map and the key I still have time for another thought but take the key first.

"Not sure if you guys want to stay here or come along with me?"

[OOC: That was fun! ]

The orbs bob in place, very pleased with themselves.

The one that had been behind the curtain gives a bright, smug little pulse.

The one that had squeezed into the scroll tube glows from both ends, apparently still proud of the attempt.

The one from under the lampshade bumps the brass shade from the outside now, as if demonstrating where it had been hidden.

The poorly hidden orb that had leaked light near the book cover hovers a little higher than the rest, behaving as though it was not found because it was bad at hiding, but because it was essential to the puzzle.

Your applause sends them into a delighted spiral around the room.

For a few seconds, the Wizard’s Study is full of bobbing, glowing, self-congratulatory lights.

You take the copper key from the sundial compartment. It is warm from the golden window-light, and a small rune on its bow glimmers briefly before fading.

Copper Key acquired.

The parchment in your hand remains rolled, tied with a faded blue cord. From the glimpse you caught through the light, it appears to contain some sort of map, though you have not yet had the chance to study it properly.

When you ask whether the lights want to stay or come with you, several of them bob closer.

One, perhaps the boldest, drifts toward the exit.

It gets about three feet beyond the study threshold before it slows, stretches like candlelight in a breeze, and then gently snaps back into the room with a soft *pop*.

The orb wobbles, offended.

From somewhere overhead, Conundromus’ voice murmurs:

“Ah, yes. The study lights are part of the study. Very loyal. Very luminous. Very bad at leaving.”

The orbs dim slightly, as if disappointed.

Then the bold one bobs up and down twice, apparently choosing to interpret this as another game.

Your satchel of kindling and candles waits by the exit.

The copper key is in hand.

The rolled parchment map is yours to examine when ready.

The floating lights remain in the Study, glowing proudly, as though expecting you to tell everyone they were extremely difficult to find.

[OOC: That was fun for me too! :)]

"It seems that you cannot leave here. So I will stay a little longer but I will have to leave soon. Maybe I could come back later? Meanwhile maybe I could teach you a game you could play together, though you could play Hide & Seek taking it in turns to be Hunter and Hunted."

"Another game you could play is to make shapes. Try making numbers first, like one, two, three."

I examine the scroll carefully, concerned I might damage it. Before trying to unroll it, I will look for materials whereby I might make a copy, parchment pen & ink.. or similar. Then I will hold it up to the light and carefully manouevre it to see as much as possible, memorising what I can.

The orbs bob in a small cluster near the ceiling.

At the suggestion that you might come back later, several of them brighten at once.

This may mean yes. It may also mean they like the sound of "later." Or possibly "come back." Or possibly they have no idea what time is and are simply enthusiastic.

You suggest Hide and Seek with a Hunter and Hunted, and the orbs immediately scatter in several directions, apparently taking this as either a rule explanation or the start of the game.

Then you suggest making shapes.

The orbs gather themselves with surprising seriousness. At first, they form a circle.

It is a very good circle. Possibly too good, since they seem reluctant to stop being a circle.

Then, with much bobbing and a few corrective flashes, the circle stretches into a straight vertical line.

A 1.

After that, the line bends, curves, and snakes around itself into a glowing 2. This is less obvious, but still recognizable.

Then comes 3.

This proves controversial. Half the orbs attempt to make the number three. The other half attempt to make a triangle.

There is immediate artistic disagreement.

Several lights flash in protest. Two bump into each other. One spins in a tiny offended spiral. Another darts upward, then downward, then seems to decide it was right all along.

At last, after much glowing argument, the group settles into a triangle.

Mostly.

One orb, which should probably be occupying the upper point, drifts down instead, curious about the parchment in your hands.

You examine the scroll carefully before unrolling it. It is old, but better preserved than it first looked. The parchment is dry, but not crumbling, and the faded blue cord unties without much resistance.

You find an old quill, a cracked inkwell, and a few loose sheets of brittle paper on one of the desks, but the ink has dried to black dust. Copying the map might be possible later with charcoal or something similar, but for now the original seems safe enough if handled gently.

You unroll it.

It is a map.



More specifically, it appears to be a map of a maze or labyrinth: narrow corridors, turns, dead ends, and branching paths drawn in thin dark lines. Some sections are clear. Others are faded. A few places have marks that look unfinished, as though something was meant to be added but never was.

When you hold the map toward the golden window-light, more of the maze becomes visible.

When the curious orb drifts lower and shines over your shoulder, the lines sharpen further.

For a moment, the orb’s light passes through the parchment at an angle, and you almost see something else: a hint of red, perhaps, or a mark beneath the ink.

Then it vanishes.

The map is useful as it is. You could probably use it to avoid wandering blindly through the Labyrinth.

But you get the strong sense that it is not showing everything it can show.

The painting beside the Labyrinth Door comes back to mind: a glass lens held over a map, revealing a hidden path in red ink.

The orb hovering near your shoulder pulses brightly, as if proud of having helped.

The other orbs, still arranged in a somewhat lopsided triangle, seem to be waiting to hear whether they have successfully made a three.

"Thank you for you help." I direct to the orb that helped to light the map. Then I applaud the orbs who made the shapes.

"Good job on the numbers!"

I add the inkwell, quill and paper to my pile by the door. Finally I decide to search the rest of the room more thoroughly as there may be a lens or other useful items in here.

"I bet you guys know of all the secret places in here where your master used to hide things?"

Never hurts to try.

The orb you thanked gives a warm little pulse, then rises back toward the others.

When you applaud the shape-making, the orbs brighten in delighted unison. The triangle immediately collapses into several smaller, self-congratulatory loops of light. One orb attempts to make a 4, but gives up halfway through and becomes a very respectable squiggle instead.

You add the old quill, brittle paper, and dried inkwell to your pile near the door. The inkwell is not useful as ink, at least not currently, but the paper and quill may still serve some purpose.

Then you search the Study more thoroughly.

The orbs seem very interested in this.

When you ask whether they know where Conundromus used to hide things, several of them scatter excitedly.

One dives behind a broken chair.

Nothing there but dust.

Another zips beneath a collapsed desk.

Also dust.

A third bobs triumphantly beside a loose floorboard, which turns out to contain a very old biscuit.

Possibly magical. Possibly just old. Probably not useful.

The boldest orb leads you to a bookcase near the unboarded window. It flashes twice, then squeezes itself between two cracked volumes as though demonstrating how hiding works.

You carefully inspect the shelf.

There are no more scrolls hidden there, but you do find that the back of the bookcase has several old chalk marks: little maze-like turns, arrows, and a crude drawing of an eye or lens over a square.

The marks look less like a secret compartment and more like Conundromus’ planning notes.

The meaning is familiar. Map. Maze. Something to look through.

You compare this with the rolled parchment map and the painting outside the Labyrinth Door: a glass lens held over a map, revealing a hidden path in red ink.

You are increasingly certain the map is useful now, but not complete. Something else... probably a lens, glass, or magical viewer... will reveal what the map is hiding.

It does not appear to be hidden in this Study.

The orbs continue trying to help, though their idea of "secret place" seems to include anything under furniture, behind books, or biscuit-adjacent.

The little orbs bob proudly around you, as if they have been indispensable assistants.

Which, to be fair, they have.

If the biscuit has not disintegrated, though it might when I pick it up, maybe it is magical? Try to pick it up.

"Well guys it has been fun. You are all very clever and I have enjoyed our games. Thank you. Hopefully I'll see you later.

If the biscuit remains intact, take it. Otherwise gather the rest of my acquisitions and leave.

The biscuit does not seem magical, and it crumbles to dust when you try to manipulate it.

You return to the central hub, debating where to go next. You have one of the five required keys, and two things that may help with other rooms.

Not sure about the smoke tunnel yet. I also need the lens before the labyrinth and yet have no idea where that may lie. Need to do the Games room before the bright corridor.

In theory I now have my combustables for the silent crypt but no way of lighting them yet.

So it is looking like the Games Room next. I head that way.

You step into the Game Room.

The west chamber is built around a great chessboard. Not a painted pattern, but an actual board of pale and dark stone slabs, large enough that each square could hold a person.

Upon it stand oversized chess pieces, each nearly as tall as you are. The white pieces glow faintly, as though waiting to be moved. The black pieces are darker and heavier-looking, utterly still.

Along one wall, three blue-white torches burn with steady flames.

Decorative armor, shields, and weapons line the walls, though most are clearly marked with little signs reading **DO NOT TOUCH**.

Most.

One of the white knight pieces carries a shield that does not look decorative at all.

It is round, polished, mirror-bright, and very real.

The board itself seems frozen in the middle of a game:

First look carefully at the torches and raise a hand carefully to test for heat. Have I found my flame?

Then study the chessboard. Which white knight has the shield? Do I need to get this piece off the board by allowing it to be taken.. or do I have to take the game to completion to be able to remove the knight's shield? Or am I missing something else. Maybe I have to get the knight to the edge of the board?

Let's try an insight. Hmm a 4. Guess I'm not feeling insightful.

You approach the three blue-white torches carefully and hold a hand near one.

There is heat.

Not scorching, not wild, but real enough that your fingers feel it. The flame is an odd color, more moonlit than firelit, but it gives warmth like ordinary fire.

When you bring one of the stubby candles near it, the wick catches.

The candle flame burns smaller and more normally than the torch, yellow-orange rather than blue-white.

So yes.

You have found flame.

Or at least a way to carry some away.

The torches themselves, however, are firmly fixed to the wall. The brackets do not shift, and the flames seem bound to the Game Room. Taking a lit candle seems much more practical than trying to take a torch.

You then examine the white knight with the mirror-bright shield.

It is one of the white knight pieces on the board, carved like a ceremonial horse and rider. The shield on its side is definitely real: polished, round, reflective, and very much like the shield shown in the Bright Corridor painting.

The shield is attached, but not permanently. There is a seam, a clasp, and a small catch that looks as though it could release.

When you test it gently, the catch does not open.

Not yet.

The knight gives the faintest little tremor, as if aware of your attention.

Your latest attempt at insight does not reveal any clever new trick about sacrificing the knight, moving it to the edge of the board, or getting it captured.

But your earlier understanding of the painting remains clear: this room is not about stealing the shield first.

The painting showed a white chess piece triumphant before a black king.

The black king here is not shattered, burned, or fought.

It is waiting to be defeated.

The room still feels like it wants one decisive chess move.

The shield is probably not the move.

The shield is probably the prize.

Blow the candle out for now, will relight it when I leave.

"Bishop C4 to F7" If nothing happens I will push. "Checkmate!"

You blow out the candle for now. The wick gives a tiny curl of smoke, but remains ready to be relit from one of the blue-white torches when you leave.

Then you turn back to the board.

“Bishop C4 to F7.”

For a moment, nothing moves.

Then the white bishop glides.

It does not scrape across the stone. It moves smoothly, silently, almost ceremonially, sliding along the diagonal from c4 to f7.

The black pawn on f7 vanishes beneath it with a small sound like a chess piece being set down on a wooden table.

You add, with appropriate emphasis:

“Checkmate!”

The word echoes through the Game Room.

For one breath, the whole chamber is still.

Then the black king trembles.

A deep note sounds from somewhere beneath the board — low, final, and resonant. The black king bows its crowned head.

One of the three blue-white torches flares high.

Then the front of the black king opens like a tiny door, revealing an obsidian key resting inside.

At the same time, the polished shield on the white knight loosens with a soft metallic click.

The white knight turns its carved head toward you by the smallest possible amount.

It is difficult to say whether this is approval.

But it is very easy to say that the shield is now free.

Obsidian Key acquired.

Mirror Shield available.

The Game Room has yielded.