Step By Step
© 2022 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  dragonmelde, color by  marmelmm


The doors of the Black Gate, painted a flashy red, swung open as Varan and Meredith approached. “Aka, not a trap,” Varan remarked.

“That’s what the sign says,” Meredith agreed.

The vir saved the game before they stepped across the threshold.

Contrasting with the pervasive gloom of the Sacred Car Park, the hallway that the two adventurers found themselves in was clean, white, and well-lit from lights recessed into the ceiling. Formal portraits depicting the lords of Ottokar City, Esad, Fafo, D’Gaf and Foad, adorned one wall, while the other sported frescos depicting scenes of small quaint villages clustered beside a broad sweep of ocean.

“That’s disturbing.”

Varan glanced at Meredith. “What is?”

“The eyes in the images. They’re following us.”

“Ernnh.”

The pair stopped at a booth with a turnstile beside it, and the bored feline clerk behind the thick glass pointed at the sign:

The Dark Tower.
Open 24 Hours.
Admission: Adults 5 Gold.
Kids Die for Free.

Meredith cocked an eye at the last line while Varan paid the admission price, and the vir saved the game again before they pushed through the turnstile and started walking.

The floor suddenly vanished beneath them, tumbling them into a pit full of razor-sharp steel spikes, rotating blades, and crushing steel plates. As the machinery made short work of the mage and the paladin, their blood was shunted into chutes that drained it away.

Another sign appeared:

The Lord Esad Memorial Charity Soup Kitchen, Orphanage and Pie Company Thanks You for Your Generous Contribution.

Varan and Meredith materialized in front of the turnstile. “Aka, that was abrupt,” the vir said. “Let me try something. Take hold of my shoulder,” and when the mare had complied she broke into a run, casting Feather as soon as the floor vanished.

Their momentum and the sudden magical decrease in weight caused them to soar over the yawning chasm, and they drifted to rest at the far end of the hallway beside a stairwell that had arrows pointing up. The spell dissipated the moment that Varan’s boots touched the floor, and Meredith let go of her friend’s shoulder. “Thank Deus that worked,” the paladin said, her tail whisking back and forth as she looked back to see the floor reappear.

“That’s one trap, yes,” Varan said, “and now let us see . . . dhotin game designers,” she hissed as she opened the door to the stairwell.

“What? Oh.”

It was a spiral staircase with a radius of perhaps five meters. Looking up, Varan noted that it appeared to ascend most of the height of the tower, and the door slammed closed behind them as she noted two more things.

First, there was another machine at the center of the spiral, two meters below where she and the golden palomino stood. Lord Foad was clearly hoping that people would slip and fall off the stairs.

Second, there were mirrors. The entire inside wall of the tower, and the treads and risers of the stairs themselves were all mirrors, with no railings.

“The doors are locked,” Meredith remarked, kicking one with a hoof. “Well, we have to go up anyway,” and she shifted her grip on her sword as she started, with Varan behind her.

The pair made their way slowly, staying to the left as the steps corkscrewed their way up. They were maybe ten meters up when Meredith’s ears swiveled. “I just stepped on a switch.”

Varan cast Adhere on her feet and Meredith’s hooves as all the steps folded flat, creating a spiral ramp that led straight into the slaughter machine at the bottom of the tower. After several minutes, the stairs raised back into their accustomed positions, and the pair resumed their ascent.

Lights and images began to appear in the mirrors as the light at the top of the stairwell began strobing. The images included spirals, lines and whorls that attempted to disorient the vir and the mare, and sudden closeup images of feral predators of all types, maws agape and teeth flashing as the tower’s defenses sought to make them flinch or step back.

After several minutes of this, it stopped.

Both adventurers braced, but another attack didn’t come.

“How far up do you think we are?” Meredith asked.

Varan kept one hand on the reflective wall and peered over the edge of the stairs, looking down and looking up. “Maybe two-thirds of the way up. We need to be careful.”

“Not arguing with you.” They resumed their ascent.

Several minutes later, Meredith glanced at the wall. “Varan.”

“Ulnt?”

“Look at your reflection.” Varan looked and gasped.

Her fur was black, as were her robes, and her eyes glared a baleful light blue, the ‘danger’ shade in Kashlanin color symbology. Her mage’s staff was shorter, gnarled, and the top was festooned with short lengths of chain ending in barbed hooks.

A dark mage.

“Meredith, your reflection!”

A Chaos Knight leered out at the paladin. A scimitar was gripped in one fist, her horse tail was replaced by a thin, more prehensile appendage, and her free paw caressed a studded leather codpiece that hid a very conspicuous bulge.

The vir’s doppelganger snickered. “Think you’re pretty good, eh? Let’s see how well you fight against yourself.”