Self-reflection | A Thora Silentblade tale

Thora stared at the reflection in the mirror. The dwarf couldn’t remember the last time they had seen themselves. At the Embassy hostel? Maybe? The soldier’s face and armour were splattered with blood, adding to the already disheveled look of the dwarf’s beard which badly needed a brushing. There were cuts and tears across Thora’s clothing, scars already starting to form in several of those locations. All of these were signs of the wear and tear of adventure that Thora was used to. Something was different, though. The soldier looking back at Thora from the mirror had a look in their eyes that Thora didn’t recognize.

The whole room felt unnatural, but that seemed to be the norm in this realm. Numerous mirrored surfaces lined the walls or hung in the middle of the room. There didn’t appear to be any obvious exits and there was no apparent challenge to conquer. Even the way they had come seemed to have disappeared, now just a solid wall. There was a strange glowing cage in the corner, but it held nothing, not even a clue as to how to get out of here. It appeared as if there was open sky above them, but the clouds didn’t seem to move, almost like a frozen image.

As usual, Duanne decided that immediate chaotic action must be the answer. The wizard charged at one of the hanging mirrors and swung a claw at the surface as he tried to destroy it. Rather than break, though, the reflective surface seemed to contort and grab on, pulling the tortle into the mirror like a whirlpool. It happened so quickly there was nothing any of them could do and, almost immediately, Duanne reappeared in the corner of the room, trapped within the glowing cage. The wizard grabbed onto the bars with his claws, his head and beak moving as if he was yelling, but not a sound was heard from outside the cage. The wizard rattled the bars, but still no sound. What was going on here?

Zearach wasted no time, quickly firing an arrow directly into the mirror that Thora was looking at, shattering it into pieces. The shards of the mirror clattered to the ground, a ringing sound echoing off of them as they bobbled back and forth against the floor. There was something wrong with the reflection, though. Thora expected to see them reflecting the sky-like ceiling of the room, but instead they seemed to retain the original image. Small reflections of Thora looked up from the mirror shards, still reflecting the soldier’s appearance though they were now shattered on the floor. A small hand suddenly reached out of the shard, followed by the rest of the arm, and then a leg. Soon there were a half-dozen miniature dwarven soldiers crawling out of their shards and turning a maniacal grin upon them. Each of them unsheathed a pair of blades, exactly the same in appearance as the ones in Thora’s sheathes.

As Thora pulled out both blades to face the miniature clones of the dwarf, more figures stepped from the other mirrors, these ones full-sized mirror versions of Thora’s companions. An enormous dragonborn, dressed identically to Alandal, roared and bared his teeth while a silent elven archer slid to a corner, drawing a crackling bow aimed at Zearach. Whomever was running this place intended them to have to face themselves in combat, thinking this would be an even fight. Their mirror-selves would know all their tactics, would have all their advantages.

That also meant, though, they had their weaknesses. If there was one thing Thora knew, it was the soldier’s weaknesses.

Therapy session

Thora knew what to expect from the mirror versions of the soldier. They quickly swarmed around the dwarf, blades swinging rapidly and taking advantage of their numbers. As small as they were, Thora could not move quickly enough to counter all of them. The soldier would parry one blade and then find another coming in from behind, the little swarm moving swiftly around and definitely striking to kill. Thora took a big swing, shattering one of the mirror creatures, and pushed the swarm back. Manoeuvering away from them, Thora forced them to choose to chase after the dwarf or defend themselves against the others. With Alandal and Zearach picking off the tiny dwarven soldiers, this gave the opportunity to Thora to throw strength against weakness.

Standing alone at the other side of the room, the mirror version of Zearach was lining up a shot against its elven counterpart. Thora knew that Zearach would not normally be able to focus on the target if pressed in close, and that Thora would work best up against the elf in direct one-on-one conflict. Just as the elf was about to loose the arrow, Thora swung in behind, throwing off the elf’s aim. Distracted, Zearach tried to push back the dwarf with an axe blade, only to find Thora parrying and returning a thrust to its abdomen. The creature shrieked in a way that sounded like breaking glass, not a noise like any the soldier had ever heard from Zearach’s mouth. The elven-like eyes that glared at him seemed to reflect Thora’s image cleanly, like the surface of the mirror it walked out of, and there was a fire burning behind those pupils.

The elf was strong, forcing Thora to concentrate just to survive the duel, but the dwarf could now start to hear Duanne’s voice shouting, albeit thinly. Whatever they were doing was weakening the magic that had trapped him. One mirror creature after another shattered to the floor, the pieces tinkling as they clattered into stillness. Thora’s eyes settled on something just over the mirror-elf’s shoulder, causing the dwarf to smile. The creature pressed in, hacking and slashing away at the dwarf, trying to pound Thora into the wall.

“I know something you do not know” Thora stated flatly, their blades crossed as each pressed for advantage on the other. Their faces were inches apart as they struggled one against the other. The dwarf spat out a bit of blood in the creature’s face and allowed another grin to escape through the soldier’s matted beard.

The creature swung its head around, only realizing at the last moment that Thora had been keeping its attention on purpose. The arrow skewered it through the skull, the real Zearach snarling at his evil clone as the creature shattered into pieces of glass upon the floor. Thora slumped down against the wall, no longer able to keep standing after the effort. The entire room began to shudder, pieces falling away and shattering, including the wall Thora was slumped against.

Boom and/or Bust

Thora stood again, preparing for yet another round of chaos from this labyrinth’s master. Scanning about, though, there seemed to be nothing of danger in the room. It was colourful, strangely decorated with the illusions of boxes, but its main feature were three large crates with a single bottle on top of each one.

“Well done!” Thora read out to the others, examining the label of one of the bottles. “Is this meant as a reward?”

“Well, done” read out Alandal, inspecting a different label. “A subtle difference, but I would say these are not all the same.”

“Perhaps that is why the sign says ‘Boom or Bust’?” suggested Zearach, pointing at a banner hanging from the ceiling. “There must be some sort of game or riddle here, some with benefits and others with dangers.”

Thora was about done with the games of this place. What had the demon said? They were either the chosen ones or they were going to die. Well, the soldier didn’t put much faith in absolutes, there was often a gray area in between, right about where the soldier liked to work.

“The exit is right there, why don’t we just leave?” suggested the elf, ever the practical one.

“One of these boxes might have a reward in it! We can’t just leave it behind” protested Thora, gaining a nod of approval from the greedy wizard. Duanne had been quiet since being trapped in the cage, but it was clear that the tortle was intent on finding out what was in the boxes. “This can’t be that difficult to figure out.”

Upon examining the crates, however, they began to orbit each other, shuffling about like a carnival game. A loud song played in the air, reminding Thora of a circus tune. Each box seemed to be shifting in colour and position, making it difficult to track them. Even marking them didn’t seem to remain on the boxes as they continued to try to trick them. When Thora tried opening one, a green cloud spread across the room, striking fear into the dwarf’s heart like nothing Thora had ever felt before. Thora stood against the wall, as far away as possible, cowering in fear. No matter what the soldier tried to do, Thora could not approach to the box again. The dwarf noticed that Zearach had been struck as well, but his arms seemed to be swinging about as if they were part of a mechanical spring toy. This place was trying to drive them mad!

It took several minutes of calm drumming from the bard before Alandal was able to get them to pull themselves together. Once they seemed settled, the dragonborn started walking towards the three crates, examining them closely.

“Only one way to be sure” said Alandal, stepping up to the center box and pointing at the two others.

“Are you insane?”

The elf wasn’t wrong, this was going to guarantee the worst possible outcome. They already knew one of the boxes had some sort of fear trap in it and the others might be even worse. Opening all at the same time guaranteed a good outcome, but also guaranteed the opposite.

“On three.”

The bard counted them in, Thora staring down at the box before them. The dwarf had a moment of hesitation as the bard reached “two”, but the others were depending on Thora to commit to this decision. Thora lifted the lid and an intense fear blasted into the soldier again, sending the dwarf reeling backwards just as an explosion went off right next to them. Zearach, however, stood calmly staring at a giant pile of gold coins that were spilling out onto the floor.

The banner above them began spinning, the words changing from “Boon or Boom” and shifting to “Boom and Boon” before it spun off into darkness. The boxes began shrinking down into nothingness, leaving them in an empty room with a single exit and walls papered with a design that looked very much like colourful gift boxes.

Thora stared off into the space where the banner had disappeared, head shaking.

“I really hate this place.”