Let Blow the Winds of Fortune

Some time in the past

Ahjam cursed loudly, the stone halls of this latest exploration echoing the sound of his feline growl. His fur clung to him, and the only other sound was the the water dripping from him to the aged cobblestones. He HATED water traps. With a burning passion. He was going to find a chronomancer, just so he could go back in time and claw the peon who invented them's throat out.

Actually, a chronomancer would be handy in a number of situations, perhaps he really should acquire one. But first he needed to get dried off, and for that he needed fire. Which means he needed to get back to his campsite, outside this gods forsaken catacomb.

Only problem was he had no clue where the damn water trap, which had flooded an entire chamber, had taken him.

"How did I end up here?" he asked himself, collapsing against the cold stone wall, hypothermia and exhaustion slowly over taking him. "How did I fall so far?"

How indeed. He was a decent adventurer. With his swords and spells he could overcome most traps and trials, both man made and natural. He had felled several ancient guardians, narrowly escaped poison darts, swung across lava on a rotting vine.

And he was to be undone by bit of water? He thought not. He forced himself off the ground, removed his soaked armor and clothes, and laid them on the ground so that they could dry. Once that was done he scrounged up some moss from the walls, coals from a long sense cooled fire place, and several long since abandoned torches from the wall. He arranged these materials together, and stood, cold and alone before this pitiful pile. He felt the magic begin to shift before he even uttered the incantation, the rush of arcane power bending to his will. Wisps of energy curled from his claws and wrapped around the would be fire, and in a flash it ignited, and the battle mage was grateful for the warmth.

He glared into the flames, his mind retracing his steps, reliving the events that had led him here.

It was to be a simple catacomb raid. An ancient king from ages long since past. Buried with an army, his treasure horde, and who knew what else? Sure it was buried deep in the wilds, and yes it was guarded by powerful magic and deadly traps. So was every other dungeon, temple, and catacomb he raided.

Finding the place was no picnic, he had to hire a guide to lead him into the deepest part of the jungle, where he was hunted by snakes, bugs, and even leopards! That last one really hurt his pride.

The jungle's trials aside, finding the burial site wasn't as difficult as it could have been. The door was massive, and inscribed with the dead king's greatest exploits. Conquering armies, destroying his nation's foes, staving off natural disaster, what ever power this king held, Ahjam wanted it.

But first he had to brave the tomb. His guide took his leave at the sight of the door, fearing retribution should he tread on sacred ground any longer. So Ahjam was left to undo the wards his self, no simple feat. The magic's were ancient and foreign, and the Battle Mage was not so highly trained in the subtler ways of magic. He spent hours carefully peeling the layers of protection away, each spell more complicated and time consuming then the last. His patience was wearing thin. His rage was a moment from igniting.

Finally the final ward fell. Just as the sun began to set. Ahjam decided to rest, to wait until his strength was renewed. So he set up camp in the burial site's shadow, a small tent and a simple campfire. And he slept until the coals grew cold.

A rumbling stirred the sphinx from his memories. The dungeon shook, and Ahjam stood, not sure what to expect. Then he heard it, rushing water. The damned water trap must have sprung a leak, and from the sound of it the tomb wasn't sitting well with this turn of events. It would either flood, or collapse. And Ahjam was screwed either way. He quickly got dressed, despite the fact that he was not completely dry, and gathered his possessions. He needed to move, though he had no clue where to move to.

Which way was the exit? Where would the flood begin? Which hallway was most likely to collapse? He couldn't tell, there was no way to know. So he had to just move, and keep moving.

So he ran, sapphire eyes desperately searching for anything familiar, any sign of where he was, which way to go. He ran down one hallway, then another, turned left, then right, then left again. The hallways were all familiar, yet at the same time alien. He was lost. It was unfortunate, but true. But he kept moving, as the rumbling was getting louder. Just when he thought he might have figured out where he was, the rumbling came to a crescendo, and the halls began to crumble, the ceiling began to fall.

Ahjam cursed. While he did one day intend to be interred in the tomb of a king, that king would be HIM. He was not going to die in the grave of a human ruler. He refused.

So he ran, harder now. He kicked open doorways, frantically followed corridors into dead ends, and avoided falling debris as best he could. He needed to get out of here, before the whole catacomb came down on his head.