Love and Cold Winds, Part 4.2

There was a brief pause as the echos of the living door faded, a silent agreement passing between the party members before Garn charged. His blade swung in a high arc before coming crashing down with an echoing boom that shook the dust off the walls.

"THAT IS THE INCORRECT ANSWER TO THE RIDDLE, AND QUITE RUDE!" The door bellowed.

The dragonborn winced as the sword dropped from his numb fingers, arms trembling from the shock of the impact.

"You okay Garn?"Vort walked up to him as he managed to get enough feeling back to give the mage a thumbs up.

"It was more cathartic than painful." he grinned.

"Well, before we try bludgeoning the door down again, let's perhaps try the riddle?" Lym strode up to the door with conviction. "Riddle me, door!"

"VERY WELL!" The door pretended to clear its thoughts before proudly proclaiming; "WHY IS A RAVEN LIKE A WRITING DESK?!"

Almost immediately Norra unleashed a volley of arrows at the doors eyes, while Vort called down bolts of lightning to punctuate the stream of colorful insults pouring out of Lym. Both the door and Garn looked on confused for the minute of coordinated abuse before the three stopped.

"Am...I missing something?"Garn asked in the ensuing rage-silence.

"The 'Riddle' this waste of metal and magic proposed technically doesn't have an answer." Norra explained,

"The answer is subjective to the person who set the door, which isn't part of the dungeon." Lym sighed and rubbed his temples, "Someone, presumably a mage of some kind set up this door to keep other adventurers out."

"Why, though?" asked Garn.

"Its a rule set down by the high guilds. If we managed to catch up with the party then the bragging rights and loot have to be split fairly among each group," Norra stuck her thumb toward the door. "So some simply make that impossible to happen."

"That is incredibly distasteful,"The group nodded in agreement to the former show fighter's words. "Can we do anything about it?"

"Because they are both obnoxious!" Lym shouted at the door

"INCORRECT!" the door shouted back.

"Because they both have shiny things?!"

"INCORRECT!"

"They both give authors ennui?!"

"INCORRECT!"

"Because they are both as ugly as you are?!!"

"INCORRECT AND HURTFUL!!"

Norra sighed, turning to the giggling storm mage.

" Vort? Do you have something up your sleeve?"

"Yup!" the mage grinned as he quite literally pulled a rod of glowing sky blue crystal from his sleeve at the same time as his sword unsheathed.

Garn blinked as he watched Vort make his way toward the door, the crystal rod pulsating and casting strange shadows over the scene unfolding. Lym managed to finish a long string of creative swears mixed with door puns before the mage smashed the rod against the steel of his blade. The tinny sound of vibrating metal mixed with the ethereal tinkling, before everything rose in pitch. The crystal broke down and sucked into the blades intricate runes, causing them to burn so intensely Garn was afraid the metal would melt away.

The scent of ozone filled the air as the tip of Vort's blade slowly leveled itself at the door, so bright it lit the worried expression of the Riddle door. Errant bolts of energy shot out as Vort slowly drew back, before forcefully stabbing at the general direction of the door.

A long whine filled the air before a hefty thump and the screech of lightning tore though the air, as a vertical beam of energy hit the door and obliterated it. The little mage was sent flying in the opposite direction. Garn, ever quick on his feet for such a hearty fellow, managed to position himself in time and catch Vort, the impact sending him sliding a few feet back.

“Good gods what was that?” Garn wheezed as he set Vort down on his feet, knowing an ache would be the first thing to greet him in the morning.

“Storm’s Fury.” Replied the mage cheerfully. “Add one ether crystal and watch doors fly.”

“Yeah but those crystals are expensive.” Norra pushed in.

“I have two more, we’ll be fine!”the little mage limped slightly toward the door, friends following after.

“As fine as people who loudly blew a Riddle door off its hinges, anyway.” Lym pipped up.