The Gems

Ham and eggs fried in a hot pan. The smell wafts lightly through the house. Each egg rests over a fluffy pancake with melted butter and honey. A thick, pink, salty piece of meat steams on a plate of fine porcelain. All of it, washed down with a hot, aromatic mug of coffee.

I suddenly awake. The cold, damp smell of stone fills my senses, replacing the warmth of the dream. The baby god has the bag containing the potion of Ambrosia and is working on opening it. As I take the bag from him, he lets out a cry a wail that carries through the dungeon, alerting everything in the area to our presence.

As the echoes fade, I mutter, “You warn them, for we will soon come—and they will know fear.”

I cut a thick, chewy piece of preserved meat from my rations, wrapped in oily paper in my pack. As I chew, the salty, smoked taste fills my mouth, pushing aside my need for food, but not satisfying my hunger. I want a real meal—not this.

Shaking off my thoughts, I gather my supplies, lift the baby god, take up my staff, and open the door. A dip, dip, dip echoes in the distance, mixing with the soft sound of my boots against the hard stone floor.

Ahead, a swirling inlay pattern is carved into the wall, its center missing a gem. Beyond it, the passage splits—one path bathed in a pale yellow eldritch light, the other cold and dark.

I dig through my bag of gems and pull out a deep blue sapphire. As I place it into the inlay, all the other gems embedded in the wall begin to glow faintly. A soft click sounds, and a hidden panel slides open, revealing a chamber of glowing crystal. The walls shimmer with embedded gemstones, their light refracting through the five-sided room.

The floor, walls, and ceiling are covered in runes—some radiating hostility, others welcoming. As I step carefully, I realize that no matter how I move, I must step on at least one hostile rune to proceed. Testing a theory, I use my Staff of Wonder to trip a rune from a distance.

The moment the staff touches it, the rune releases a blast of magic—but instead of striking, the staff absorbs the energy.

I do it again. Another blast. Another pulse of magic drawn into the staff.

With each hostile rune I clear, the shrine at the room’s center hums with power. Its base is a slab of pure black obsidian, smooth and polished to a mirror sheen.

At the base of the shrine sits an ornate box. No keyholes. No latches. But there—a socket for a gem.

I kneel and search my collection of gems. One of them must fit, I find a small green emerald that fits after I try a few different gems.

The box opens reveling a largest emerald I have ever seen. That is when I notice the carvings at the cuff are actually fittings for three huge gems and that this seems to be one of the set.

As the gem clicks into place the soul stone glows red as does the emerald glows green a yellow light beams across the room to light a panel of runes the message was plain I would need two more stones open the door. To what it did not say.

After securing the massive emerald into the gauntlet’s cuff, I couldn’t ignore the allure of the other gems embedded in the chamber’s walls. Their radiant glows hinted at untapped power and potential value.

Approaching the nearest cluster, I examined the gems closely. They varied in size and hue—sapphires, rubies, amethysts—all seemingly waiting to be claimed. Using the tools at my disposal, I carefully pried each gem from its setting, ensuring they remained intact. With each successful extraction, the chamber’s light dimmed slightly, as if the room itself mourned the loss.

Once I’d gathered all the gems I could carry, I secured them in my pack, their combined weight a reassuring reminder of potential resources for the challenges ahead.

With the baby god cradled securely and my staff in hand, I turned away from the now-dim chamber. The path ahead was clear: seek out the remaining two stones to unlock whatever secrets awaited beyond the mysterious door. The dungeon’s depths beckoned, and I was ready to face whatever lay ahead.

I step into the dimly lit passage, the air growing cooler as I move away from the chamber. The walls are lined with flickering torches, casting dancing shadows that make the stone surfaces appear to shift and breathe. The baby god clings to me, its eyes wide, reflecting the sparse light.

As I advance, the corridor narrows, and the sound of dripping water echoes softly, hinting at unseen chambers or perhaps an underground stream. The floor is uneven, with occasional loose stones that shift underfoot, demanding careful steps.

The path ahead seems to stretch endlessly, with occasional alcoves housing ancient statues whose features have been worn away by time. Each step forward is a venture into the unknown, the promise of discovery tempered by the ever-present sense of danger lurking in the shadows.

Determined to find the remaining gems, I press on, guided by the faint glow of the torches and the unwavering resolve to uncover the dungeon’s secrets.

After looking for awhile, I find a wall inlay where there are not swirls of color like the last keyed mural. These lines are straight lines and right angles to each other all pointing to a gem socket that an amethyst fit into perfectly.

As I press the gem into the mural, a soft click resonates, revealing a hidden panel that opens into a hexagonal chamber. At its center stands an obsidian pedestal, stark and unadorned. Unlike previous rooms, this one lacks runes, inscriptions, or any palpable sense of magic.

I methodically scan the chamber, moving the gauntlet along each wall, across the floor, and up to the ceiling—nothing. Frustration mounts as I retreat to the mural, seeking overlooked clues.

As I ponder, a yellow beam suddenly emanates from the gauntlet, illuminating the wall opposite the mural. Intriguingly, this occurs only when I stand within the chamber. Stepping forward, the beam extinguishes; stepping back, it reappears, casting light upon previously invisible runes. However, from within the chamber, the runes are too distant to decipher.

An idea strikes—I remove the gauntlet, but the beam fades. Gently, I place the gauntlet onto Ordazar’s tiny hand. The beam reignites, and I move closer to the illuminated runes. They reveal that a hidden door lies within this wall, its mechanism awaiting activation.

Turning back, I notice a strange glow enveloping Ordazar. Alarmed, I rush to him, removing the gauntlet, but the eldritch light persists. Before my eyes, he ages rapidly, reaching the form of a four-year-old. He doubles over, a piercing cry escaping his lips.

His voice echoes in my mind, urgent and pained: “I need the ambrosia to continue… or I will die.”

Desperation grips me, but it’s his next words that pierce my soul:

“Help me, Father.”

His eyes lock onto mine, filled with trust and fear—a gaze that transcends words, speaking directly to my heart. Without hesitation, I retrieve the vial of ambrosia, bringing it to his lips, praying it will sustain him.

After Ordazar consumed the vial, he fell into a deep, dream-filled slumber, emitting a soft green glow that suggested healing. Occasionally, he murmured unfamiliar words or phrases. Ensuring his comfort on the cold dungeon floor the best I could. I turned my attention to the opposite wall. Upon closer inspection, I discovered a barely discernible depression, perfectly matching a topaz gem from my collection.

Inserting the topaz triggered a subtle click, unveiling a concealed panel that led into a heptagonal chamber. This seven-sided room was adorned with luminous gems, casting a radiant glow upon an obsidian shrine at its center. At the base of the shrine rested an ornate, intricately designed box.

The chamber pulsed with potent magic, its walls lined with thousands of runes forming extensive texts. The gauntlet on my hand responded, emitting an eerie yellow light in resonance.

Glancing back, I saw Ordazar still peacefully asleep. Resolute, I stepped further into the illuminated chamber, prepared to uncover the secrets it held.

As I step into the heptagonal chamber, the air hums with potent magic, and the soft glow from the embedded gems casts intricate patterns on the walls. The obsidian shrine at the center stands as a focal point, its polished surface reflecting the ambient light. The ornate box resting upon it is adorned with elaborate carvings, suggesting ancient craftsmanship.

The walls are lined with thousands of runes, their luminescence pulsating gently, as if alive. These symbols form complex patterns, hinting at forgotten languages and arcane knowledge. The gauntlet on my hand responds to the chamber’s energy, emitting an eerie yellow glow that intensifies as I approach the shrine.

The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, and the convergence of magical energies suggests that this chamber holds significant importance in my quest.