It took Angel several minutes to escape from beneath the creature. By the time he finally got free, the smell of burnt meat and hair had been thoroughly imprinted on him. Motes of blue light trickled out of the beast’s mouth, passing through his clothes and drawing a hiss of surprise out of him as they slipped inside his body. Angel let out a heavy sigh and brushed his clothes off as best as he could.

His eyepiece dinged and his status screen swam to life in front of him for the second time in just a few minutes.

Race: Human

Name: Angel

Level: 26 [1%]

Status: Healthy

Information accuracy: 100%

Strength: 10

Intelligence: 19 [+1]

Nimbleness: 16 [+1]

Toughness: 5

Comparative Rating: Minor Threat

Weak point(s): Heart, Neck, Arteries… (100/100)

Element(s): Steel

Magicore: None (40% Attunement)

“Fantastic,” Angel muttered, waving the screen away. He examined his right arm, but it was undamaged. He let out a sigh of relief and knelt beside the orc’s corpse, peering closer at it. A small grin tugged at one corner of his mouth.

The gears in his hand whirled again as his fingers melded together into a large blade. He drove it into the creature’s chest and dragged downwards. His nose twisted at the rancid smell rising up from the monster.

He carved deeper into the creature’s chest until a glint caught his eye. The blade transformed back into his hand and he reached within the orc’s chest, wrapping his fingers around a small orb. Angel pulled it free with a sharp tug, then held it up to the dim light coming up from the triggered trap lines on the floor to get a better look at it.

“Green,” Angel said, slightly disappointed. “Oh well. Better than nothing, I suppose.”

He tucked the orb into his pocket and adjusted his coat for the second time. He glanced over his shoulder at the board on his back, but it looked fine. Not much could break Old World metal, so he wasn’t particularly concerned.

Angel gave one final glance around the room before he walked out. He retraced his steps back through the catacomb, but he had no further problems. The further he got, the more rock and less magical or mechanical parts he saw. It took him nearly an hour to arrive at the exit – a large gaping cave entrance.

The sunlight brought a grimace to Angel’s face. He wasn’t even outside yet, but the temperature had risen several degrees beyond uncomfortable. He squinted as he walked out into the desert. It stretched out as far as the eye could see. The world looked hazy from the heat rising up from the orange sand.

Angel grabbed the metal board on his back. It detached with a hiss and he tossed it onto the ground in front of him. Pale gray lines ran along the side that had been pressed to his back. They centered around two circular patterns on either side of the board.

He stepped onto the metal. The lines lit up with a dim white light that was barely visible in the sunlight. The board rose up a foot into the air, kicking up the sand beneath it. Angel reached into a pocket on the inside of his cloak and pulled out a thick scarf. He wrapped it around his face and leaned forward.

The board floated forward responsively. The lines grew brighter and he shot forward, tearing through the desert like a bullet. The wind howled past Angel’s ears and he let out a gleeful laugh. He launched over a sloping dune, taking flight for several seconds.

Small specks of sand pattered against his face and body, but he didn’t mind. Hours felt like minutes as the desert blurred beneath him. The wind he kicked up was more than enough to fight back against the sweltering heat. In fact, Angel was almost getting cold.

“The last one should be somewhere around here,” Angel said to himself. He flicked his eyepiece down. Lines of orange light traced over the ground as he scanned it. A second later, the artifact let out a small ding. The lines faded, leaving a small trail highlighted on the ground before him.

It veered slightly off to the left. Angel grinned, leaning to the side and shooting after it. He could see the line stop near the horizon. As he grew closer, he slowly leaned back, slowing the board down to a smooth glide instead of a rocket.

The eyepiece dinged once more as Angel reached the end of the line. He hopped off the board, placing it onto his back and kneeling in the sand. At first glance, it didn’t look any different from the rest of the desert.

He took a bronze canister out of his travel bag. It had a small cap with a tab at the top. Angel carefully pulled the tab up and twisted it sharply before jamming the cap into the sand and hopping several steps back.

A moment later, a deep thrum ran through the earth. Sand cascaded into the earth as a large pit formed in the desert before him. It was about six feet deep, with a rounded metal trapdoor at the bottom. The cap from the canister rested on top of it.

The canister that he’d dropped had expanded, forming a metal tube tunnel to the surface. Angel hopped into the hole, landing on the trapdoor with a bang. He reached down and wrapped his mechanical hand around the door’s handle.

It was locked. Angel’s grip tightened. The gears in his arms churned. Rivets in the metal groaned before giving way and snapping. He ripped the door free with a grunt, revealing a dimly lit cave.

Angel tossed the door to the side and peered inside. The entrance was empty aside from a small metal door. He shrugged and dropped inside, landing silently on stone ground.

“Not the biggest catacomb I’ve ever been in,” Angel said aloud, his words echoing slightly in the room. “But size isn’t everything, right?”

He reached into his travel pack and pulled out four canisters, placing them in the holster at his shoulder. Angel reached for a fifth, but there were no more. He grimaced, then shrugged to himself.

After one final glance around the room, he walked over to the door and pressed his ear against it. It was silent. A light touch showed it to be unlocked, so Angel pulled it open a crack and peered inside.

Faint yellow light from several flickering lanterns illuminated a medium sized room. There were four statues in the center of the room, surrounded by a deep pool of stale water. They stood in various poses, all looking rather angry. The walls were made of stone as well, with no apparent exit.

Most importantly, Angel couldn’t spot any lines running around the room. “No lines, no monsters. Lucky me.”

He located a flat, fist sized rock on the ground and set it inside the doorway before stepping inside the room, closing the door gently behind him. Angel approached the statues and peered closer at them.

They were all warriors – there was no doubt about that. They’d been carved with beautiful armor and stood in fighting stances. The craftsmanship on the statues was superb.

“It’s too bad I can’t bring you beauties back with me,” Angel said, pacing around them while avoiding setting foot in the dark water at their feet. “I bet some rich fool would pay top coin to have you displayed in their bathroom. Maybe you could hold the toilet paper for them.”

The statues, unsurprisingly, didn’t answer. Angel studied them for a few more moments, but there weren’t any signs of hidden switches or other mechanisms on them. He pursed his lips, then looked down at the water.

It was too murky to make out much of anything within it. With a heavy sigh, Angel knelt and reached into it with his mechanical arm. It was several feet deep and he had nearly reached all the way up to his shoulder when his hand finally hit the ground.

He fished around for a few moments. Metal clinked on stone as he bumped into something. A grin crossed Angel’s face and he grabbed what felt like a rod, pulling it free of the water.

It turned out that the rod was actually the hilt of a large stone sword. Angel turned it over in his hand. With a grunt, he set it on the ground and reached back into the water. As it turned out, there were three more weapons within its murky depths – a dagger, an axe, and a bow.

“Really?” Angel asked. “This might be the lamest riddle I’ve ever seen. Do you really think anybody is going to get stuck on this?”

He grabbed the sword and brought it over to one of the statues, putting it inside its hand carefully. When he let go, the weapon remained in place. Angel repeated the process with the other three weapons.

The statues rumbled. A segment of the wall at the far end of the room started to slowly descend into the earth, creating a doorway.

Angel just shook his head. He grabbed several rocks from around the room and walked over to the new exit, piling them on top of the portion that had lowered before heading into the new hallway.

It twisted and turned, heading deeper into the earth. Stone turned to metal plates and the smell of oil filled the air. Angel curled his nose up as he emerged from the hall into a long rectangular room with an incredibly tall ceiling.

Large arches lined the walls, leading into shadowy hallways. At the far end of the room, there was a large metal chest with at least a dozen locks on it. A large design had been carved into the floor, with faint lines traveling out across the ground in a crisscrossing pattern.

“Yep. They were definitely on a low budget,” Angel said, stepping into the room and taking care to avoid touching any of the lines on the ground. “Two rooms in a catacomb. What a joke.”

The only thing that really concerned him were the arches. The shadows made it impossible to tell what was within the hallways behind them, and anything that was unknown was dangerous.

Angel drummed his fingers on his leg for a few moments as he considered his options. The ceiling was high enough up that his grappling hook wouldn’t reach, but the walls were another matter.

He set his travel pack on the ground and flexed his fingers. The grappling hook launched out of his palm with a whistle, sailing through the air and punching into the limestone wall. With a laugh, Angel leapt into the air and tightened the line, yanking himself forward and into the room.

When he hit the center of his arc and started to ascend, Angel tugged sharply on the line while twisting his arm, freeing the barb from its spot on the wall. It whistled back into his palm with a click.

As Angel started to fall, he aimed his arm and launched the barb out again, catching himself just feet before he hit the floor and swinging forward once more. He repeated the trick one more time, tumbling gracefully through the air and landing on top of the metal chest with a slight thud.

He rubbed his hands together and scanned the ground for any lines before carefully clambering off the box. The locks on it all looked rather old, and he was able to simply snap the first one off.

However, the next few were built into the metal itself. Angel reached into a pocket, pulling out a small leather pouch. He popped it open, removing a metal pick and several other tools. He inserted them into the lock and pressed his lips together, paying close attention to the lock's responses as he worked.

A minute later, the lock popped open. Angel moved on to the next one, which didn’t take much longer. The final line of defense took him a moment longer, but it too fell under his skilled fingers.

Angel kept the box closed with his hand and put his picks away. Then he walked around to the back of the chest and carefully opened it. Something whizzed out of the box and thunked into the wall on the other end of the room.

There was a small wooden box in the center of the chest about the size of his palm. Angel’s eyes widened. He reached into the crate and, after one final check for traps, lifted the box free.

There was a moment of resistance as the box passed the edge of the crate. Only too late did Angel feel the string that attached it to the bottom snap. The catacomb rumbled. Sand burst out from within the arches lining the room, filling it at a rapid pace.