Secrecy

[Aardvark]

Being a Grand Vizier meant many things, as Achmed had learned over his long decades of service to the Sultan of Warumbi. He was the Sultan's eyes and ears. The vast intricate spynetworks that had existed for centuries all filtered down to the Sultan through him. He was also the Sultan's hands, for those dirty tasks such as tax collecting and urban renewal. The little things that needed to be done that the Sultan himself didn't want anything to do with. And he was also the Sultan's sixth sense. But in a detached sense. If he knew of an assassination plot, he still had himself to look out for. Like all Grand Viziers, Achmed looked out for himself before all others. If there was a way he could benefit from what he saw as a regular political upheaval, why shouldn't he? No need to worry the Sultan with such details as his own death.

 

With all this duty, however, he needed an extra edge to watch his own back. He was indeed a powerful man. And he knew of others that lusted after the power of his position. Although not as grand as a Sultan, Grand Viziers tended to have a longer lifespan. And since they were practically running the place while the Sultan looked regal, it was strange that there were so many upstarts after the throne. But there were a few after his position. And they prided themselves on being the craftiest devils this side of the Seventh Circle. The only way to hold onto his title was to stay one step ahead of everything. But there was only so far one could go in this world.

 

The hidden door swung closed behind him. Secret passages. Ones the Sultan had no idea about. That was all part of the Viz. He chuckled to himself. He made his way down the cold dark passage, counting paces. Every now and then, he skipped a pace, his frail body gliding a meter or so through the air. After a seemingly random number of paces, he stopped and twisted a torch in a wallbracket, then continued down the hall. Knowing secret passages wasn't enough. You had to know them so well that not being you in a secret passage results in painful death. 25 paces further, he jumped to the side, straight into a wall...

 

... Which flew open at his touch. When he hit the ground, he ran. He was in excellent shape for a man of his age. He needed to be. Most of it was from eating right and getting plenty of exercise, mainly in his secret passages of death and the dungeon gauntlet he devised himself. His reasoning behind removing all guards from the dungeons baffled the Sultan at first, until he saw first hand how difficult the gauntlet would be for anyone who didn't design and calibrate the thing themselves. Achmed was proud of his record. Only one escape, but only with his personal guidance and only to test a flaw he suspected in the system. The criminal in question, a rather nimble young thief, in perfect condition for a run of the gauntlet, enjoyed his freedom for a good 5 seconds before feeling a cold blade in his kidneys. Being a Grand Vizier also means being utterly ruthless. But he could, and frequently did, run his own gauntlet, usually just before recalibrating some deadly device designed to disembowel.

 

Another wallpanel opened, but Achmed ignored it, choosing instead to run to the end of the corridor, then diving into a small chute at his feet, off to the side. Just as he entered, he heard a deafening clang of a thousand metal spikes hitting marble flooring. Everything was about timing. Timing, timing, timing. But there was only so far one could go in this world. So, like all good Grand Viziers, Achmed dabbled in the black arts. Dabbled. That was such an amateurish term. He was a master of the black arts. Any better, he'd have all the demons of Hell at his command. But he was careful not to go that far. Never draw too much attention to yourself. Better to look like a potential ally than a potential threat. But the black arts being black and all meant he had to keep this a secret. No real problem there, as most of his life was secret anyway.

 

Out of the chute and down a spiral stone staircase, hopping down one, two, three at a time. Ever paranoid, Achmed was careful never to repeat the same sequence down, incase someone was watching from afar. Ever paranoid, he'd set the intricate mechanics of the passage to alter themselves with every step anyone took, to a pattern only he knew. It was a difficult enough pattern to remember, but being the Grand Vizier he was, it had become instinct. Being the Grand Vizier he was, whenever he changed the pattern, which he did frequently, it would take him one run for the new pattern to override the old. Being a Grand Vizier means being in control of your mind and body.

 

He bounced off the last step, landing on a spot 2 meters away. Through this final passage, he hopped, skipped and jumped his way across various square tiles, taking care to always land with one foot on the gap between two. The final leg of his journey. His dark laboratory was just ahead. When he reached the end of the passage, he bounced 3 times on the one square, then grabbed a rope that had fallen from the ceiling. Climbing into his lab, he breathed a sigh of relief. Another day, another near life experience.

 

"Clever... but not good enough for me this time." The words chilled Achmed almost as much as the knife blade as it slid between his ribs. His last conscious thought was, Damn, I knew I should've locked that back door.

Edited March 12, 2003 by Aardvark

[Peredhil]

Oooh.

This makes me want to play D&D. Or Prince of Persia. Or something. What a neat dungeon description!

 

It's great you can fill it with such ominous death - without making it tradionally dank and skellies every where.

 

And the ironic twist at the ending...

 

You always leave me wanting answers, don't you?

 

Ham it up, porkchop... ham it up! Some day I'll write something good enough YOU'LL want an answer!

 

Muahahaha!

 

sighs

 

Of course, I'd give it to you if you asked nicely.

 

-P

[The Portrait of Zool]

Pleeeeeeaaassse?!?!?