The stone door slammed shut, echoing through the chamber as Marrick, the mage, scrambled across the chamber, reaching out. “No!” he screamed, his hands clawing at the door’s edge in vain. The seal hissed shut, mocking them, and the only sound left was the scratching of Marrick’s fingernails against the stone. The mage’s fingertips smudged the dirt around, revealing centuries of bloody tracks, where dozens, if not hundreds, had tried before.

The mammoth of a being who had just entered stood agog, trying to understand what he was seeing. Standing nearly seven feet tall with long dark hair, the man was adorned in tattoos and fur. He had entered a chamber that was barely over three paces wide and five or six paces long. His massive frame contrasted to the smaller room and filled the chamber with his presence.

The chamber, while small, had a presence of its own. Etched floor to ceiling were arcane runes covering the walls. Someone had stretched bedrolls across the chamber floor surrounding a makeshift fireplace. A small, rounded archway was visible on the far wall, mirroring the vault door that had just shut. They could see a soft violet light emanating from beyond the portal, and bones littered the floor beyond. The barbarian turned back to the mage as he gave up the struggle.

“Damn it!” Marick growled in frustration. The mage slumped down against the wall and sunk to the floor. He cradled his head in his hands. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“What?” the warrior asked. “What just happened?”

A small, dark half-man dressed in leathers came through the door, walking side by side with a tall, golden-haired, Elven woman in priest robes and shining armor. They sat full water-skins down next to the fire and observed. The rogue’s eyes locked on the newcomer and the cleric gazed at the vault door. “Not again.”

“Went for the door,” Marick cried. “Didn’t get there fast enough.”

The cleric went over to console the mage and the rogue stared hard at the half-giant, half-fey monster that had joined them.

“What is going on here?” the barbarian asked again.

“Welcome to Kaigan Whui. Welcome to the slowest death imaginable,” Marick said. “Adventurer’s Bane.”

“I believe it’s Kaigun Whae, ‘Adventure’s End’ as it was called,” the dark man said. “You’ve got it in your head that this is a curse. It’s just bad luck.”

“Your translation versus mine,” Marrick stated. “I still think mine is right.”

“Oxag knows it’s Kaigun Whae,” the large warrior said. “I, Oxag the Bold, have come here to seek an end to the Dark Lord. But you still didn’t answer Oxag’s question…” he stared hard at the rogue. “What is happening here?”

The mage laughed ominously. “You failed like all before and doomed all again.”

“Don’t mind Marick, friend,” the rogue said. “We’ve all done it.”

“Done what?” Oxag asked.

“Gotten trapped down here,” the cleric responded.

“Trapped?”

“Yes,” the dark half-man said. “We all came down here looking to end the Dark Lord’s reign, only to get stuck in this prison he made for us.” He crossed the chamber to approach Oxag and extended his hand. “Vinnar Longshadow, at your service.”

Oxag reached out and shook Vinnar’s hand cautiously. “Oxag assumes you all found the same passage that his companions did.”

“Likely,” Vinnar said. “And I assume, like mine did, that all your companions died terribly in the maze above?”

“Yes,” Oxag replied.

The cleric spoke clearly and recited the verse. “At Kaigun’s Whae, buried beneath the ruins of Ulramore, the Vessels of Prophecy will be found. A spirit of hope will be broken against the walls of despair. The heart of faith must be given freely. A body of war shall be consumed by darkness. The final prison of fear must be destroyed or doom will overwhelm all.

“From seal’s break to seal’s end, only sixty seconds remain. Complete it, and the realm will once again see the light. Fail, and the souls of all will be forfeit. We must give one life to save the rest.”

“That’s the one,” Oxag said. “Oxag thought their deaths were all part of the prophecy. Is it true?”

“Let me show you something,” she said and walked back into the far chamber. The woman led Oxag into a large round chamber, twenty paces across, that had a domed roof. A weight of oppression washed over him as they crossed an invisible barrier. His eyes widened and swept around the room, taking it in. What would have been a regal, ceremonial chamber was marred by the piles of bones littering the perimeter. Dozens of skeletons, all races and sizes, marked the passage of those who had come before. Mystical lights lit the room from above, giving everything an ominous violet glow. There, in the center of the chamber, stood a solitary altar.

On the altar, ornate jars sat side by side. The first was a tall, slender, copper jar etched with ghostly faces that almost seemed to swirl as you looked at it. A second jar, silver and stout, engraved with what appeared to be berries on vines at first, but under scrutiny was actually human hearts and veins. Resting farther to their right was a platinum jar, a broad shaped orb with dozens of figures engaged in battles with weapons from around the realm and history. Oxag’s eyes drifted to the blank spot between the first two and the last.

“What goes here?” he asked.

“That’s the question, my large friend,” Vinnar asked. “Lyndi has a theory, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Aye?”

The golden-haired elf smiled sadly. “Come around here,” she beckoned. Oxag complied, and could see that there were additional carvings on the back. Written in the ancient Ulraic glyphs that every adventurer studied in hopes of taking down the Dark Lord. The jars were labeled “one,” “two,” and “four.”

“There’s one missing,” Oxag breathed.

“That’s the theory,” Lyndi said.

“Then we should find it!” Oxag cried.

“Of course,” Marick sneered sarcastically. “Why didn’t anyone think of that?! Vinnar, can you believe it? A clue after all this time!”

“Easy, Marick,” Lyndi said. “He’s new.”

“Still,” Vinnar said. “That was a dumb question.”

Oxag stiffened and his hand reflexively went to his axe hilt. “Listen, friend. Oxag is getting tired of the attitudes. Speak carefully.”

Lyndi waved them both down. “Guys, let’s go back to the antechamber. This place sets everyone on edge.”

The four returned to the smaller chamber and immediately, they felt the barrier of relief wash over them. Oxag and Vinnar softened and looked at each other. “Sorry.”

“Now, let’s catch Oxag up,” Lyndi said. She sat them down and passed out a few tin cups, and filled them with water. She handed dried meat out for everyone. Vinnar and Oxag took theirs, and Marrick ate his greedily. She stoked the fire and sat down to begin. She nodded to Vinnar, and he nodded back.

“Yeah, so you know that the maze above was brutal,” Vinnar started.

“Aye, Oxag’s companions all fell on the journey. But Oxag was so close that Oxag must go on. Finish the job.”

“That’s how we all felt,” Lyndi agreed. “For my group, it was me and Gerand, our bard. We made it here together and got stuck here. That’s when we met Marrick.”

Oxag’s eyes turned to Marrick. “You were already here?”

“Same story. All my companions died in the ruins above,” Marrick said. “Been sitting locked in here waiting to finish the job, get out, and go back to normal.”

“What date is it?” Lyndi asked Oxag.

“17th of Harvestend, 2073 MR,” Oxag replied. “Why?”

Lyndi nodded. “Then that means I’ve been down here about eight years.”

“Three for me,” Vinnar said. “Only one that made it this far.”

“Nearly ten for me,” Marrick said. “Too long, if you ask me.”

“How have you survived this long?” Oxag asked. “How do your rations last this long?”

“Well, it gets difficult,” Lyndi said. “We hunt the tunnels down here. There’s four more levels of maze below this temple.”

“Four more?” Oxag asked.

Lyndi nodded. “Yep.”

“That’s where we found the jars,” Vinnar added.

“Easy, one thing at a time,” Lyndi said. “We hunt rats and get a good one now and then. There is a well where we can get fresh water. It’s challenging, but we make due.” She paused and looked off sadly. “Sometimes it’s harder than others.”

“Like Gerand,” Vinnar breathed.

“What happened?” Oxag asked.

“He passed a bit back,” Lyndi shrugged. “Time is funny down here, with no way to tell how long. Maybe a year ago?”

“Passed? It was worse than that,” Vinnar said. “He tried the ritual.”

“Fool,” Marrick muttered.

“Anyway,” Lyndi said sternly. “When it backfired, he died. We were left with his body.”

“Oxag assumes he is amongst the bones now,” the barbarian pointed to the chamber beyond.

“Yes, but his body was valuable. Meat is rare. We had to take advantage.”

Oxag greened. “You wouldn’t!”

“Who do you think you’re chewing on?” Marrick sneered.

Oxag dropped the meat reflexively. And scrambled to the corner, retching. Marrick scooped up the remaining strip and chomped it down. Lyndi frowned at him, and he shrugged.

Oxag finally came up for air. “So we all become monsters down here?”

“Survivors,” Marrick said. “Not monsters. This place takes control of you, eventually. Hunger is the standard down here. I’m always so hungry.”

“We all are,” Vinnar challenged. “But enough about that. Sunny dispositions, and all that. Let’s see if the new guy can help us come up with a way out.”

“After ten years?” Marrick said snidely. “What else could we find?”

“But we haven’t had anyone like him!” Vinnar said. “He could be strong enough to open that tomb!”

“There’s nothing in that tomb!” Marick says.

“You don’t know that, Marrick,” Lyndi said. “None of us have been able to open it. We’ve never had a fully rounded adventuring party down here. With his strength, your mind, my faith, and Vinnar’s cunning, perhaps we can challenge some of the remaining puzzles. Perhaps find the final jar!”

“We’ve collected every damned golden thing in this place!” Marrick said, pointing to the pile in the other room. “If it were here, you’d have found it by now. I don’t even know why you keep trying.”

“I know. It’s just…” Vinnar trailed off, shaking his head. “No, we can’t give up. We all came down here for a reason.”

“Gold?” Oxag asked. “Why gold?”

“It makes sense in the pattern,” Lyndi said. “We have a bronze, silver, and platinum. The missing one is most likely golden.”

“Like coins!” Oxag smiled.

Vinnar glanced at Marrick with a sly grin. “Yes, like coins.” Marrick shrugged and smiled back. Their look made it clear that they believed their new friend had built his career on muscles and left the wit to another of his companions.

“You said that we can’t open any jars without the missing one?” Oxag asked.

“Oh, you can open one,” Marrick said. “But the ritual requires each jar to be opened and resolved. The riddle and the arcane runes tell you what is on each of the ones we know, but there is no clue on how to handle the fourth phase. And if you don’t complete the entire ritual, it could destroy everyone in the realm.”

Lyndi pointed to the altar in the other room. “From what the ritual shows, plus the prophecy itself states, we have the spirit, the heart, and the body. We have nothing to indicate the ‘prison of fear.’ And the only thing we know how to achieve is the ‘soul freely given.’ Which resets the ritual.”

Vinnar pointed at Marrick. “You think that should be the last step right?”

“Lyndi said that, but I agreed it makes logical sense.”

“Oxag thinks you have done nothing,” Oxag said. “That you’ve been trapped for so long that you’ve trapped yourself.”

“What are you saying?” Vinnar asked.

“Oxag is saying to break the prison of fear,” the barbarian straightened his shoulders. “You must be bold! Break the seals!”

“You’re insane!” Vinnar spat. “If we don’t complete the ritual, one of us must die. Hells! To complete the ritual, one of us may need to die. But the failure kills EVERYONE! We can’t just throw it to the wind and figure it out! We need all the pieces, and Marrick’s mind.”

“But Oxag heard you have looked everywhere!” Oxag said. “Marrick said so. What if you are being played?! What if the Dark Lord set this up to make fools of us!?!”

“That’s an interesting theory,” Marrick said flatly.

“If the Dark Lord set this up with only this in place, we would be TOO close to stopping him. He would have shown himself by now!” Vinnar said. “We’ve been trapped down here for years. Lyndi and Marrick had two of the jars before I came down. If we were that close, he would have shown up to stop us by now.”

“But not if he didn’t think you would win!” Oxag said. “Oxag thinks that you’ve been fools. We should break these jars and face the Dark Lord’s tricks head on!”

“Well, Vinnar thinks Oxag is a moron!” Vinnar spat.

The barbarian stood up quickly. “Oxag doesn’t know how you’ve done this for so long. Oxag has only been down here for moments and is already tired of this. We must act.”

Vinnar stood up and walked to block the door. “Don’t think about it. We’ve survived this long without you, and I’m not going to let you screw this up now.”

“You’ve done nothing!” Oxag shouted. “Oxag will defeat the Dark Lord!” The large man strode towards the archway and shoved Vinnar aside. Before anyone else could react, Oxag grabbed the platinum jar and popped the seal. Lyndi gasped, and Marrick helped Vinnar back to his feet. Slowly, they entered the chamber and approached the altar.

“What have you done?” Lyndi breathed.

The lights above the chamber faded from purple to red. Shadows were cast from unseen objects and crept down the walls of the chamber. The shadow figures marched slowly down the walls signaling the inherent deadline. Oxag grabbed the brass jar and popped the seal on it as well. The dreadful feeling that filled the chamber intensified and adventurers all stiffened in fear.

“Stop! You bloody fool!” Vinnar screamed. “We CAN’T complete it. We never will be able to complete it! But even if we never get out, I don’t want to die!”

Marrick slumped against the wall. “Just let it happen.”

“No,” Lyndi said. “We must go on. We have to choose one of us.”

“Let it be Marrick,” Oxag said. “He obviously wants to die.”

“Not happening!” Lyndi said. “He’s the only reason we know anything about this ritual. He’s our the only one of us who has the Arcane ability and our best chance at figuring this out when we have all the pieces in play.”

“Which we told you we didn’t!” Vinnar said. “So, it’s simple. You made this mistake, you get to die.”

“Oxag will cut you open before Oxag lets you take him,” the barbarian said, hefting his axe.

“Stop this!” Lyndi said. “We don’t have time.”

The red light deepened, and the shadows were halfway down the wall. Time was running short. Marrick was sitting there watching, a small smile of inevitability on his lips.

Vinnar drew his blade. “Put your hand on the Jar and make the sacrifice, or I’ll chop one off and do it for you!”

“Blood for blood,” Oxag said. “You want to end the ritual, you bleed.” The barbarian swung his axe in a blinding arc. Vinnar stood motionless for a mere second, before his body began to slowly separate at the shoulder and his left arm, neck, and head fell to the left and the rest of his body fell to the right.

Lyndi screamed. “No, no, no.” Lyndi cradled Vinnar in her arms. “You fool. The death doesn’t count if you aren’t holding the Jar! It’s sacrifice, not murder.”

Red light pulsed faster and faster. The mystical feeling of dread hung heavier in the air. Shadows began to swirl around the edge of the chamber and form shapes. Glowing feral eyes became visible as the shadow creatures watched them.

“You’ve doomed us all,” Lyndi said.

“Oxag says Marrick should go. He wants to go, let him.”

“No. Without the mage, it was all for nothing.” She placed her hand on the jar and hefted her dagger. “I’m sorry Marrick.” With a swift strike, she plunged the dagger deep into her chest. Her eyes rolled slightly, and she whispered, “I give myself to thee, Maelurique the Mad, Wizard of the Hells, and Dark Lord of the Realm. Take my soul and spare the rest.”

Oxag stood and watched as a glowing spirit left Lyndi’s body and floated into the jar. The top, which had been lying on the floor since Oxag had opened it, teleported to the jar, sealing it once again. The lights changed to purple once again, and the shadows receded, resetting the chamber back to its traditionally ominous state.

“What just happened?” Oxag asked. “Why would she do that?”

“Well, you see,” Marrick smiled. “She was right. You doomed them all. For nearly a decade, this was a stalemate. Her Hallowed spell held me at bay, so I just had to bide my time. Eight years, thirteen days, and two jars opened. That’s a record. No one else has ever come that close.”

“Close?” Oxag asked.

“To breaking my curse, of course.”

“Your curse?” Oxag looked at Marrick quizzically. “That would mean that you are…”

“Maelurique. The Mad Wizard, the Dark Lord, blah, blah, blah… “ Marrick bowed. “In the flesh.”

Oxag hefted his axe. “You bastard.”

“Indeed.” Marrick smiled wickedly. “But it’s so fun.”

“Why?” Oxag asked. “Oxag doesn’t understand why?”

“Boredom, mainly,” Marrick laughed. “I’ve ruled this realm for millennia. Every two or three centuries, I let this little prophecy leak and watch you all scramble.”

“So this is all a game?!”

“To watch you all struggle to defeat me, yet complete the prophecy every time, yes. Vinnar, our beacon of hope, had given up trying to win, only desiring to survive. Lyndi, the heart of faith, so willing to sacrifice herself to save us all, and all of you trapped in this prison trying to break out. My prison of fear.

“Yes, you were right,” the mage smiled. “So right. About it all. Of all of them, only you figured out the secret. The truth about the third jar.”

“What secret?” Oxag asked.

“There is no jar.” Maelurique smiled. “But, Oxag, my body of the war, I told the truth as well.” The mage’s fingers extended into long, tapered claws. His bones and joints twisted unaturally, and his fangs grew slowly. Green glowing eyes looked deeply into Oxag’s and the giant’s hand went limp, causing the axe to fall to the floor. “Hunger is the standard down here. I’m always so VERY hungry.”