Crypt Quest: Rising Darkness
The Die is Cast
The squealing siren of worn-out brake pads against ancient, rustic rotors on a hot, sweltering city bus did nothing to alter Reese Hunter's wide-open stare of noise-induced pain. For hours had he to deal with the piercing shrill of death through the Tunisian landscape while his guide, a young, local teen, didn't even seem to notice.
"Almost there," the multi-layer-dressed, Tunisian girl proclaimed nonchalantly, sure that today she lucked out on that one rich Westerner many of her male counterparts always kept an eye out for.
This time, and finally, it would be her turn to score a payday.
"Aren't you a little young to be a tour guide?" Reese asked, confused.
- - -
The bus dropped them off at the entrance for an area of ancient ruins overlooking a sloping landscape of city into the warm, tropical Gulf of Tunis. The sight of beauty was more than he could behold, pausing Reese in his steps under a deluge of awe-struck veneration.
"Well, I put up with you for this long, so here we are," the young girl interrupted with none of the traditional tour guide aromas of history. If she had gum right now, she'd be chewing it.
Snapping back into reality, Reese entered a sea of broken ruins, tall stoned walls and littered rocky debris. He glared a quick visual-scan of each section as he walked passed. "Thank you?"
Only now taking an actual interest of the hyper-driven man, along with his unclear purpose, Farah Helali pocketed her hands and began following behind, casually, but carefully. Who cared what he was up to, as long as it didn't attract the Tunisian police.
Her instincts were to leave with the money she already got, but if she stayed 'on-the-clock', she could demand more later.
"Something I can help you find?" she asked, a little skeptical.
After having previously brought a stolen piece of the Tablet of Troy to Museum Director Leanna Boswell, Reese, before-hand, had discovered relevance in its translations in connection to the bronze amulet he, himself, embezzled from Turkey. Here, in this ancient stone-littered field, the tablet played reference for some strange reason.
"Do you know anything about Ancient Carthage?" Reese asked.
She shrugged, continuing in-stroll. "Only that it fell."
"In 650 BC, Carthage was one of the most powerful cities of the known western world. They called it the 'shining city'. It ruled over 300 others in the Mediterranean and even kept Rome in check for a while."
The girl added, "And then it fell, and its conquerors salted its Earth. My assertions are still valid." Then, pointing to a series of etchings along the side of a nearby stone wall, she asked, "Are those what you're looking for?"
"Huh?" Reese snapped out of his search to follow the suggested line of sight of her pointing finger. In a short wall, where she indicated, was engraved writing in Ancient Roman, partially covered in vines and dirt. "It's Latin," Reese observed. "I think it says summam auctoritatem."
Farah acknowledged. "Great! What does that mean?"
"It means 'the highest authority'," Reese explained as he began tearing the vines off the wall. The traveller revealed a series of pictographs each on their own flat stones. "These images are symbols of city-states: Carthage, Syracuse, Arverni, Rome and several ones of Germanic tribes."
The young adult looked at them, impressed. "You're really good at this for a random tourist with lots of money."
"I have a limited supply of money," Reese countered as if for the umpteenth time. Then added, "Besides, these etchings were probably observed and then forgotten." He felt his hands over each engraved stone. "If we're asking who was the highest authority of the lands, then, ultimately, it wasn't Carthage." He pushed on the stone with an engraved symbol that appeared to be tied wood around an axe. "This 'fasces' emblem represented Rome, which was a power of collective force."
At that, a grinding sound of stone against stone emanated from all over the site. Several small, 4-inch high statue-scenes were stone-mechanically slow-ejected out from walls everywhere.
In the distance, they could hear a male voice react in shock. "God dammit!"
"Did you say something?" Reese turned to the shrugging young girl.
He then glared off into the distance, off her shoulder, to view a short figure further along the ancient pathways.
"What is a kid doing here?" Reese asked.
The person in their sights began pulling on one of the ejected statues from the wall.
"Hey, kid!" Reese called out, hoping to deflect any potential interference.
Both running over, Farah and Reese came upon the individual and the sudden realization that the struggling intruder was, in fact, an adult. He was a man of 4 feet in height.
Stopping the ferocity of his efforts and then turning to the tall stranger, the man offered an unpleasant glare. "Oh really? You think I'm some punk kid?"
"Err, sorry. It's just that—"
The dark-brown haired man finished, "—Just that you saw that I was short and you immediately assumed I was a child!"
"Dude. No— I mean, yeah. I mean, I was just so far awa—"
Revving up a level of layered frustration, the man took a physical stance and pointed. "You got lucky with these statues, but if you think you're getting this find before me, your small brain's on Carthaginian olive oil!"
"Who you calling small? Touring hours are over, pint-size," Farah stepped in front of Reese, suddenly interested in the possibility of what riches appeared to be sought after in this apparent untapped Carthaginian gold mine.
Gritting his teeth at the insult, and annoyed by her sudden interference, the other man met Farah's eye in a shared meeting of conflict. "Clearly you lack manners, child. Whatever is in here is worth something and it will be mine!"
Both at odds, knowing each wouldn't let the other go; Farah and the little man-powered a punch at each other! In simultaneous deflection, they, instead, accomplished a cross of wrists rather than targets.
The man then pushed Farah into a surprisingly powerful, backward drag, along the dirt, on her feet, giving him sufficient room to leap up and launch an airborne kick at Reese!
"I'm not—" Reese blocked the airborne kick with his wrist. "Fighting—" Reese redirected a continued-airborne jab with the other. "You—" Reese finished by pushing the seemingly hovering man to the side. "Carthage is a mystery to all of us, which has to be respected with great care."
In an agile fashion, early-30s Malik Atwell landed his redirected jump on his feet, his back to Reese. He turned his head slightly and said, "Then clearly you're no competition! What you gain in fragility and height, you lack in speed and smarts." And, at that, he ran off down the ancient path and turned a corner of old ruins to, theoretically, never be seen again.
"Don't listen to him. I believe in this old place. Speaking of which, you and I make a good team," Farah said, approaching Reese to replace her disappointment at the fallback with a touching of her hand against his scruffy jaw. She figured appealing to this man was her best way at getting what she wanted.
Cringing, Reese moved her hand aside. "Uh, thanks, but surely we don't like the same brands of cereal?"
He then turned to approach another set of statues.
"Not to mention, that guy is racing me inside, whoever he is, whatever his reasons." Reese began examining what he assumed the other guy had already begun. "I can't let just anyone get their hands on this thing."
"So, what do we do first?" Farah smirked, perceiving that desperation as a confirmation of value for whatever was inside.
Getting back to it, Reese acknowledged the mini-stone figures sticking out of the wall before him. "Examine this statue. It depicts a man herding some sheep. Underneath is the latin rex potens," and then, "'Powerful king'."
"This one's of a guy riding an elephant," Farah said, looking at another one on the opposing wall.
Reese walked down the aisle, looking at each figure. Each one, a man interacting with a different animal, differently. "But they all have the same latin phrase, so only one of these can be the correct depiction of this 'powerful king'."
"What king?" Farah asked, curious, observing a sense she was getting closer to what she wanted.
Stopping before a stone idol of a man commanding a lion, Reese replied, "Ceasar, of course." And, in pulling the idol back 40 degrees, activated another ancient mechanism that led their gaze to a small section of the wall. The wall moved sideways and offered a small opening.
"Perfect," Farah agreed. "He did own a pit of man-eating lions, like nobody's business, as all kings should." Then, measuring the treasure hunter's level of attention, she added, "Anyway, thanks for your help!"
She swiftly bypassed Reese and immediately ran into the dark underground mesh, alone. The sounds of her footsteps faded quickly.
- - -
Cursing to himself at her rash behaviour, Reese took out a dim flashlight and entered as well.
"Damn kids!" he cursed, carefully descending the small steps into the dark underground mystery. "So much for believing in this 'old place'."
Shrieking the dim light, he walked slowly through a long, dank tunnel. It connected with several others, indicating other possible entrances or cave-ends. As he neared a dark corner, he heard sounds of shuffling and mumbling.
"Hey kid," Reese called out, in a warning. "This object is not what you think it is!"
As soon as he approached the short figure at the end of the tunnel, his light revealed not a kid, but Malik, the man from earlier. "You really do think I'm some punk child!"
Angry, the short-stuff leapt a kick in fast offence, initiating another attack as before.
"What the Hell? How'd some thief beat me down here? And this find belongs in a museum!" Reese blocked and reacted in resuming shock.
Malik multi-punched for Reese's midsection, which Reese blocked every time. "Obviously, there was more than one of those little Caesar figures up there!" Then Malik was pushed away by Reese. "And I'm no thief! I hand over my finds to the galleries with the largest under-the-table policy. Transfer-fees notwithstanding."
"Oh, even better. You're just some ripping-off, rip-off guy, and stuff," poorly-argued Reese, taking a stance. "What's even less sense is how you even knew anything was here."
The short fellow shook his head, confirming the close-minded nature of this tall lug head stranger, seconds before he leapt several rotating kicks at Reese. "I learned about it from a Trojan bangle I acquired through a Russian trade!"
"Dammit, man!" Reese blocked and then force-palmed toward Malik, only to have that attack more quickly dodged and retaliated by a punch to Reese's stomach. This other man was clearly faster than him. "What kind of cereal are you eating??"
Before Malik could respond in even more anger, the section of dirt-floor beneath him depressed and released one large, head-sized, cube stone dice from a nearby hole in the natural stoned wall. The two stopped fighting and watched as the cube hit the dirt near them.
"'Prince of all time, but the fear enters?'" Reese moved quick to redirect his attention at the wall and attempt to read some latin engraved in large letters on it.
Malik intervened. "Rex omni tempore, nisi metus intrinsecus. Play as Deum, means 'King of all time, but the fear from the inside. Play to enter.'"
"Wait. You can read that?"
The man snapped. "Yes! I told you that you lacked brains! Ancient languages is my repertoire. You, on the other hand, what are you, some kind of homeless guy?"
"Hey, I'm an adventurer with narrative— That is, internally, I think," he defended. "Anyway, this grid must be what those word-chops are talking about. It wants us to play dice?"
Examining a series twelve square embossings in the wall, under the big lettering, each just the face-size of the large dice, Malik agreed. "Yes. But, following your incessant need to be here, the real question is, why would some of these squares even have people painted in them?"
"Well, you said 'king of all time' and 'fear'. So, Ceasar, of the Roman Empire, must've felt a threat was coming to him, thus he turned to someone here," Reese surmised. "We have to choose who he trusted in times of peril."
Malik picked up the square, stone block and placed it in one of the square impressions. "That's easy. This painting of several men represents his Roman Senate. They may have assassinated him, but before that, they were who he would turn to when the goings got tough."
Seconds after the large dice was played, there was a RUMBLE...
Then, undesirably, the area around them began to shake and the floor tore in half, revealing large spikes on a level below them! As they separated, each on a half of the slowly moving floor, Reese turned back to the wall squares and pulled out the large dice.
"Great!? You steal from your mother the same way?" Reese argued, annoyed.
Malik pointed at Reese as he and his floor-section slowly moved away. "I'm no low-life, big head! Unlike your child-labour tour guide, I respect history!"
"Those practices were always a part of history!" Reese argued before trying to get back to things as his floor was also moving into the wall. "The engravings said 'fear from within', so Ceasar might've meant the Senate themselves as the threat. It has to be a god he turned to."
Quickly looking, Reese realized several gods were painted into each embossing. "Which one?" Malik asked, reading each one he could see from his angle. "Maia? Janus? Vulcan? Apollo?"
"Vulcan," Reese guessed before certain doom. He placed the stone into a square where the god was painted.
"What? You killed us! Due to the fact that's the dumbest name for a god ever," Malik realized as beyond his slowly disappearing floor, revealed the impaled skeleton of a previous adventurer below. "I knew I should've finished writing my Will on that bar napkin last night."
Trying to keep balance, Reese replied. "That's a horrible idea for a filing system. Also, Vulcan's a god of fire and metalworking. He's a deity to strike back at Ceasar's enemies."
Confirming this, the wall before them separated, revealing a further corridor. Both men leapt from their now-ledges onto a hang off the edge of the corridor, narrowly missing a fall into the infinite spikes below their feet.
- - -
"There! Does that prove to you I know what I'm doing?" Reese asked as he and Malik struggled, hanging off the edge of the corridor entrance. "We're not Human skewers today."
Malik got himself up onto his feet, ignoring the height-taker's win, and moved into the new cave-hallway. He replied, "That's just making me hungry."
"Order up!" came the alarming voice-out-of-nowhere of Farah while Reese got to his feet as well. The two were prompted to look back at a flying Farah over the spiked-pit of death behind them.
She swung on a hanging vine over the spike-pit and landed between the two men.
"Early bird gets the treasure, huh?" She quickly mutli-force-palmed Reese and Malik into opposite walls and ran herself off down the rocky corridor. "Seeya!"
Malik quickly regained his balance. "That is not how that saying goes. Next time you have kids, don't!"
"She's the tour guide," Reese corrected to an ignoring Malik. "And she was supposed to be too 'cool' for any of this!" He watched Malik run away, dismissing his words, down the tunnel. The artifact seeker gritted his teeth and ran after as well.
- - -
Reaching the end of the tunnel, Malik found Farah in a spherical room, with a checkered, flat-stone-patterned floor.
"What the Hell is this?" Farah asked, frozen in place, upon a square tile. Five large spikes on opposite ends of the room, pierced through five separate skeletons in indiscernible ancient armour, dead for centuries.
Malik found he had stopped on a tile as well, hesitating on whether he should continue forward. Built right into the walls, at eye-level, circling the room, were several ancient coffins. "It's a room of death, is what it is! I knew I should have come on harder to that waitress last night."
"Dude, that's a horrible pick-up system," Reese added, last to enter the area as well. In the center of the room was a platform with a partial, ancient stone tablet sitting on it.
Farah looked at the tiling on the floor. There were blank tiles and inscribed tiles. The inscribed ones repeated themselves and were similar to the idols she and Reese examined on the surface: An animal on each. "Ceasar, right? The lions represent him?"
Then, to confirm, Reese read the wall. "The wall says, 'May Ceasar gain followers of his legend after his death'." The inscription was etched in large Latin lettering and the message reminded Reese of his attackers back at Trinity Museum.
Malik followed suit just as Farah stepped on all lion-tiles in order to reach the stone platform. She picked up the resting tablet and tucked it under her arm. "And may I have a gain of my own for this baby. One of fortune, to be clear."
"You're a piece of work, aren't you kid?" Malik said as he got closer. "Undeservingly cheating your way into an artifact hunt without doing any of the work whatsoever."
As Malik was taking a step onto his next tile, Farah picked up a nearby large rock and smirked at him. "Got to make a living out here somehow, buddy. I was forced onto the streets since I was a kid. What did your friend Ceasar gain from being legit? A stab in the back, and some followers after his death? Clearly, people can't be trusted and the 'work' is not worth it." She threw the large rock in his direction. "Though, we did have fun, didn't we? Here's a souvenir."
"Ugh!!" Malik attempted to catch the distraction in mid-step, but it, instead, bounced off his hands and hit an unmarked tile.
SCREECH!!
The tile broke apart by the jutting blade of a trap-sprung protruding spike from beneath the floor, distracting Malik off-balance of his own tile until he leapt onto another.
As Farah made her way back over her now free path, to the entrance, she found herself intercepted by Reese. "You're good, kid," he complimented. "Better than I expected."
"Clearly," she smirked in a cold stop.
Reese looked at her as she stood before him. She slyly held the tablet under her left arm, confident at being on her game. "But, if Ceasar couldn't trust his men," Reese continued, "According to that oddly engorged dice game, he at least trusted the gods. Something bigger than himself."
"Maybe there's something greater about you and I too," she offered. Her fake interest form earlier betrayed genuine. Reese slowly extended his arm appearing as if he was going to console her. She suppressed her emotional reaction.
Malik watched in shock at the family perversion. "Uh, what??"
Then Reese quickly snatched the tablet out of her arm and took several steps back from the distracted youth. "This is what: Things that are bigger than us sometimes can't be trusted either. I believe this tablet has to do with some kind of 'undefeatable' 'power'."
"Sneaky move, my friend," she eyed him. "I guess I was the sucker all along."
Farah slyly and intentionally backward-stepped on a tile of a pictured elephant, causing the entire cave to begin rumbling. As soon as she saw Malik, behind her, making his way back toward her, she turned and passed Reese with one final smirk of her return to confidence. As she knowingly levied a 'no-trust' paradigm, she ran off back the way they came. A lesson in carefulness would have to suffice over more money.
"Damn it!" Reese cursed now looking at the stone. He recognized it. "It's just the rest of the Tablet of Troy? It says, 'Death follows on a sword upon irons of Kings.'"
Malik approached. "You have a sick family, man." And then, reading the rest, while dodging falling debris, "It says, 'A weapon of power by Vulcan himself!?' Great! Him again!?"
"It doesn't explain much, but maybe one of his temples would help," Reese spoke and thought at the same time, too focused on the situation for anything else.
He and Malik then shared a look. "Turns out you, as a boorish giant, were more useful than I thought," Malik said. "If you live through this, I urge you to check out the Baths of Antoninus." He pushed Reese aside and ran down the corridor to get out of there himself.
"Those aren't actual baths!" Reese yelled into the distance at the man's now-reciprocated ignorance. Like the murdered King, Reese's fate was sealed within the horrors of this Roman crypt.
At least he did Carthage some kind of justice, the treasure hunter resolved to himself seconds before a piece of large rock-debris poetically broke the tablet, in his hands, apart. Which is the least I could say about myself.
Now being bombarded by debris, Reese decided staying alive would have to be his consolation prize. He bolted down the corridor as fast as he could!
Reaching the spike-room, he leapt without thinking and grabbed the hanging vine he trusted was still there. He swung himself across, landed on the other end, and ran through more collapsing tunnels until narrowly making it along and up the staircase. Diving through more debris, he sprung back into the outside world and rolled into pure daylight with the entrance collapsing behind him.
He dragged along the dirt-ground, from his given momentum, and slammed against the adjacent ancient stone wall. The girl and the short guy, whose names he never got, where nowhere to be seen.
Then, trying to process the betrayals, the loss of that artifact, and the hidden weapon he said, "Well, Carthage, it seems like it was Rome who kept you in check."
And, realizing how stuck he was, added, "I'm going to need another bus."
Reese Hunter stood up, with his aching body, and began the long walk that would begin his journey. He had a feeling things were only getting more complicated.