When I finally reached the bottom of the staircase my vision kept spinning in time with my spiral descent for a few moments. The large archway opened up into a reception area which was resplendent, totally fitting for the home of powerful wizards. A fire roared in a hearth with no flue, providing heat but no smoke. I’m not sure how, but I could sense that it was of a similar magic to that employed by Bart in the safe rooms. Fine rugs covered most of the bare stone floor. Furniture pieces stood proudly all around me. They made Randulf’s look like the two-seater sofa rotting in the nearby alley to my home; tables, chairs, cabinets, armoires, all of the finest craftsmanship.

A series of portraits stared out at me from the walls, each carrying the name and period of the Arch Sorcerer’s governance. Slowly inspecting the pictures, I found the canvas of Alwyn and her unmarked end. Even if I had no idea of the quest details, my instincts were screaming that this woman was a wrong’un. She was unnaturally beautiful, but with a smile that didn’t reach the eyes. It looked like a mask, an attempt at an emotion that she just couldn’t truly understand and mimic.

“There’s my next boss fight,” I sighed. My mind added the skulls to her portrait and conjured an image of my scorched pile of bones.

The actual entrance was clearly marked by an arch that had no doorway. Glowing runes on the stonework beckoned me to study them. Not that it did me any good. They were as undecipherable as the hieroglyphs of ancient Egypt. I reached out and started to trace the lines of the first marking. An arc of electricity snapped across to my finger, causing me to jump back.

“Gah! That hurt!” I blurted, wafting my hand. There was a tiny scorch mark on the tip of my finger, just below the nail.

I should’ve figured the ward was boobytrapped. There was my low wisdom coming to the fore again. Backing away from the enchantment, I hit an object and whirled round. Alwyn was staring at me with amusement. Well, technically her portrait was watching me. From its frame. Which had left its mounting and was floating in front of me.

“And who might you be, my trespassing friend?” she asked. The canvas had basically become a TV, or a two way mirror, at least something that she could use to project herself.

“I’m Mark. I’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.”

Her cold, sharklike smile never faltered. “And how did you come to be inside my tower?”

“The door was open. I just walked in.”

She regarded me with glacial malice, the smile finally fading. “Lying will get you nowhere, Mark. For the last time, how did you get in?”

“I climbed in via one of the balconies,” I replied, figuring the truth was the best path.

“Impossible. No ladders can reach and no iron peg can pierce our stone. You are beginning to test my patience, little fly. I’m the spider you need to fear.”

“Well, come out and we can talk. I’ve been sent by Marshal Balchester to see if you and your people are safe. That’s all.”

At the mention of the marshal her stare went from frosty disdain to a seething inferno. “He dares to spy on me?”

“Not at all. He wanted to see how you all were. The sorcerer’s absence from the war has him worried.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “He worries for nothing.”

“Why do you keep referring to yourself in the singular?” I asked carefully. “Why not we? Where are the others?”

She ignored my question entirely as her face became impassive once again. “I tire of this. No matter how you have managed it, you have stumbled into my web, little fly. And now you will die.”

“Wait! I don’t want to fight you! Let’s talk about this!”

“The talking is done, as are you,” Alwyn said casually. Her image solidified, returning to the exquisite oil colours of before. Losing its magical connection, the heavy frame clattered to the ground. I equipped my new sword and shield, ready to test them in battle. I wanted to be nimble when dodging any spells, so I left my plate armour in the inventory. Applying poison to my weapon, I started turning slowly in the reception area, awaiting Alwyn’s appearance and with it, almost certain death.

I’d misjudged the tower completely, heading for the already sealed entrance instead of searching the rooms for help first. The quests really needed some kind of guidance within their tab and I promised myself that I would bring it up with Bart at the earliest opportunity. A level marker wouldn’t have been a bad idea, either. Skulls next to the title would give at least some warning that it was best left until later. Or ignored completely.

When no one appeared after a few seconds, I slowly moved in a circle around the room. Other than the crackling fire, all was still. Did she expect me to starve to death? I had spider legs for days, even if she could seal the place up like a drum. Alwyn must’ve realised I had some tricks up my sleeve to even have access to the tower in the first place. It didn’t make sense. Instead of calling out and dooming myself as I had done in the past, I kept quiet and snuck towards the staircase. When I was only a few paces from the opening, the floor started to grind and shift. I yelped in surprise, expecting to fall into a magical pit of god-knew-what. When the slabs started to rise instead of drop away with me atop them, I quickly scurried back and equipped my full paladin regalia. When the creature had been a part of the floor, the joints looked like the rest of the room. Now that it was climbing to its full height, I could see where the head, arms, torso, and legs had been hidden within the stones.

“Well, shit,” I groaned as it looked at me.

Name – Timeless Gate Golem (Boss) (Level 19)

Description – Crafted by Lazul Oshmar at the same time as the first stone was laid for the Timeless Tower, this stone golem is the ancient guardian of the sorcerers within that hallowed spire. Though slow and lumbering, it makes up for this weakness with an insatiable need to destroy. This construct, once summoned and targeted, absolutely will not stop… until you are dead.

Weakness – ???

Immunities - ???

“I don’t suppose you need an extended warranty?” I asked the thing.

It growled at me, which I found quite impressive considering it was fashioned from hunks of rock and lacked lungs or any other obvious organs. The ground trembled as it took a single step towards me, reaching out the huge hands. Building up a head of steam, the massive hulk barrelled towards me, making the entire room shake. I hastily backed away and got caught against an armoire and the outer wall as the golem struck. My shield took the blow, sending me pinwheeling across the room like a ragdoll. I crashed through a small table, my arm completely numb. Shaking myself off, I saw my health bar was already below the three-quarters mark and that was after blocking the thing. I chugged a potion, restoring feeling to my battered limb.

The golem was in no rush as it indiscriminately crushed furniture to get at me, seemingly relishing the destruction.

My fear gave way to anger. The twin pinpricks of glowing hatred that passed for eyes studied me; the same way a cruel child observed ants while scorching them with a magnifying glass. I could feel Alwyn’s presence in the creature. Whether she had conscious control over it, or was just enjoying the show, I couldn’t be certain. Dodging under the next swooping attack, I came to my feet and hacked at the back of its knee with my sword. The magical tether holding the slabs together was not unlike my flail. I don’t know what I was expecting, but my blade passing cleanly through the shimmering aura without doing a damned thing was not it. Before I could whine about how unfair it was and raise my shield, the creature caught me with a backswing of its mighty arm. Without the shield to nullify the blow, my breastplate took the full brunt. I performed my flying routine again, destroying a pair of paintings as I hit the wall.

“Fuck… Me…” I wheezed, barely able to draw breath as I staggered to my feet.

Only Hilde’s sturdy craftsmanship had saved my life which was now flashing, dangerously in the red. With a thought my rats burst from their magical home, valiantly flowing over the golem to provide me a distraction. It crushed their bodies against itself, suffering no damage from the fangs which broke against the stone. The timer on my healing potion was still a ways off, so I took the opportunity to skirt the behemoth of destruction and strike at its back. Sparks flew from the contact, achieving nothing except increasing my weapon augment skill. Realising my sword was useless, I spun towards the stairs to begin my escape. My rodent army squealed pitifully as each was pressed flat, bursting in puffs of blue smoke instead of gore, for which I was eternally grateful.

Through my crushed ribs and agony addled mind, I couldn’t shake the bestiary description of its relentlessness. My escape might involve never sleeping again, forever pursued by the tireless golem from one area to the next until I willingly fell on my own sword to end the torment.

I reached the first floor and downed a potion as soon as the timer expired. I felt my mobile ribs pop back into place and the armour return to its normal shape. Drawing the first proper breath in minutes, my swimming vision firmed up. I swapped out the useless blade for my flail. The enchanted skull had managed to chip the stone in Bommy’s chamber, and I was fresh out of other ideas. For once in my life, my left handedness worked in my favour. The anticlockwise direction of the steps gave me a clear strike when the terrifying figure lumbered into view. I wound up with everything I had and went for the head, hoping to score a decent critical. The skull smashed the corner of the golem’s face off, taking only a sliver of its health and providing no crit on my display. It growled, the sound like crushed gravel. Lashing out, the golem’s hand crashed into the central support column. Skipping up three steps, I smashed down on the outstretched hand, powdering a couple of the thick fingers.

“Ha!” I cried, figuring I would just chip away at the thing like Andy’s wall in Shawshank Redemption. How long had that taken him? Twenty years?

It seemed to grunt in amusement, laying the damaged hand against the thick pillar. Whatever magic lay in the tower itself turned the solid stone into liquid which flowed out and healed the head and hand.

“Uh-oh.” I was now Andy in the laundry, being bent over the washing with my trousers around my ankles. I figured my old pal stomping towards me didn’t have any lube. And even if it had, the golem would’ve left the KY in whatever passed for pockets as its rough hand stroked my face and its trouser pillar aimed for penetration.

“How about this?” I snapped, casting my fated life drain. I didn’t need the womp-womp tone of denial to realise the being had no lifeforce to absorb as the spell was nullified. “Oh, come on! Throw me a frickin’ bone here!”

The huge arm swung out again and I popped my holy shield. The golem’s hand snapped back as if it had touched a live cable, and it dropped back a few steps in shock. The shimmering golden orb only lasted a few seconds, but it had saved my life. I was out-levelled, out-strengthed, out-sized, out-everythinged. Stashing the thirty-plus kilograms of my armour, I pivoted and raced up the steps. I passed stores, kitchens, libraries, studies, lounges, all flashing by as I charged upwards. The stone under my feet trembled with each thunderous step the golem took in pursuit. It was a twelve foot tall, ten tonne Jason Vorhees. I didn’t know what the golem version of ch ch ch, ha ha ha was, but I felt the same terror as his victims. No matter how far I could run, there it would be, stepping out from behind a metaphorical tree in the Camp Crystal Lake woods. I needed a way to slow it down and buy myself some time to think. The tower could have a hundred floors, but a game of cat and mouse up and down the stairs wasn’t a solution. Remembering the self-healing power of the golem got me to thinking about the crumbling brickwork of the balcony.

“It’s worth a shot,” I said, trying to convince myself of the insane plan.

The fake, magical light on the sealed lower floors gave way to real daylight beaming in through the open terraces. I climbed a few more floors just to be sure, entering a writing den of some kind. A thousand scrolls lined the shelves, while quills sat in dried up inkwells on the tables. I passed the unused desks in a blur, reaching the low wall and finding the mortar was similarly weakened.

“Sun, stay back! I’m in the shit!” I screamed down at her.

“What’s happening? The mountain feels like it’s coming apart?” she yelled back at me.

“Big fucker on my arse! I’m going to try something stupid!”

“Be careful!”

Careful was not an option as I climbed atop the loose stones of the parapet. The breeze picked up, or at least it seemed that way to my screaming mind. The eager gusts tugged at me, urging me to fall. The balcony entrances whistled a mournful tune, as if the wind was playing a monolithic flute. My clothes fluttered, catching the wayward airflow, trying to help the murderous element in finishing me off.

“Just fuck off, wind!” I hissed, crouching slightly to minimise my size. It was quite clear my vow to stop swearing wouldn’t work in a stressful environment.

The wall, already iffy to begin with, shook as the golem stomped ever higher up the stairs. It appeared in the archway, glaring at me with its pinprick eyes. This was it. Now or never. If Alwyn was in control, the gigantic golem would saunter over and give me a little nudge to help me on my way.

“Come on,” I whispered.

The creature climbed into full view, fists clenching like boulders at its side.

“Come on!” I begged.

It took a step towards me, in no rush.

“Shit. Come on you dumb fuck!” I yelled, frantically trying to plot another course of action.

It took another step, leaning forward slightly.

Then another, finally breaking into a charge.

I prepared myself, giving the construct the wanker wave. With a roar that sounded like a landslide, it reached for me. I jumped at the last possible second, my arachnid ability fusing my hands to the wall above. Yanking my body out of the way, the thunderous charge saw the golem crash through the wall below while I launched the potion of decay smashing into its stone back. I twisted my head to watch its fall. I was thrilled to see the debuff was in full effect from the moment the liquid made contact. Sun was well out of the way when the golem finally impacted below. Not even the magical tethers could keep it in one piece as the entire monster exploded, showering my companion with chunks of rock. The colossal impact carried all the way up to me through the stone of the tower.

“Fuck yeah!” I screamed, jumping down to the sundered balcony’s floor.

My bravery faltered and I dropped to my knees, carefully shuffling toward the unprotected edge. When I looked down at the golem’s health bar, my elation died. It was flashing red as mine had been, perilously close to death, but clinging on regardless.

“How?” I groaned.

Sun was looking at the debris all around her feet. Even at my height I could see the lumps begin to skitter towards each other as if the ground was alive.

“It’s reforming,” I realised, the hollow gong of my agonising end reverberating in my ears.

Chunk by chunk the creature formed a weak frame with which to move. What was left of the golem began to crawl towards the tower and I knew exactly what the creature wanted; contact. The magic to flow and heal it.

For the briefest of moments I felt the call of the void or whatever the psychologists named it. An almost overwhelming urge to lean forward and let the air take me to a far less painful death. I didn’t think the experts categorised suicidal thoughts along with it; more the feeling when you’re on the edge of a cliff and the drop seems to call to something deep within human psyche. In my case I had the motivation of a hulking great living rock wanting to crush me flat, pressing insistently against my back. I felt the familiar despair which had plagued me in the tutorial bubbling back up.

“Just do it,” I muttered miserably, preparing myself to topple over. It would be quick and I could at least start over with fresh knowledge of the dangers posed by the Timeless Tower.

Gravity almost took me until Sun’s words carried up the tower, spoken with deep conviction. “I don’t think so.”

She marched over to the cracked block which had been the golem’s head, picked it up, and strode to the sheer face of the mountainside. How, I had no idea. Maybe the damage had also weakened the magic that held it together. Sun tossed it from the edge, and I heard the partially repaired stone dash itself apart again as it fell. She repeated the manoeuvre with an arm, and then a leg. The roar of avalanching rock echoed within the canyon, telling me that little but dust would remain when it reached the bottom. I stared down, open mouthed at her incredible strength. The torso was too heavy, even for my companion, but it didn’t matter. Separated from most of its parts, the golem’s health ticked down to nothing and the massive slab finally crumbled at her touch.

Unable to contain myself, I started sobbing with relief.

If Sun heard my emotional outburst she didn’t call up and mock, instead giving me a casual thumb’s up from the mound of dust.

I slumped down amidst the debris on the balcony and tried to gather myself. It took a fair while.