Or maybe I’d only run into monsters if I took a weapon. It was broadly speculated that the configuration of the tower reacted to choices in any given room.
The next section was the wearables. The dueling vest was extremely tempting. The runes on the surface made it resistant to damage from both physical attacks and weak magical ones. Depending on the density of the runes, a vest could typically handle between one and three hits before needing repairs. This one looked to be high quality.
Ultimately, my curiosity made my decision for me.
I put my hand on the empty pedestal, groping for an invisible object, and then feeling along the surface.
Nothing happened.
Huh.
I opened my backpack next, going through my stuff. An unlit candle, a piece of flint and a tiny metal rod for striking it, food, water, a handful of coins, a roll of bandages, and a coil of rope.
The handful of coins amounted to the majority of my personal wealth, and the single gold coin most of that.
I put the coin on the pedestal.
Again, no obvious reaction from the room.
I left it there anyway, moving to the pedestal with the key. Flexing my hands in the air, I took a deep breath, and then snatched it.
Again, nothing.
Sometimes a pedestal was just a pedestal, I supposed.
I wasn’t going to take any chances. I dropped the key into my bag, and then put one of my lesser coins in the place the key had been.
The key was my first priority because I didn’t think anything here would be useless. Selys was difficult to predict, but scholars agreed that she was generally “fair”. Everything here would have value, either within the tower or outside it. Possibly both.
I needed whatever was most likely to be relevant here, and the key topped that list, followed by the quill and the scroll. Everything else was likely to have at least some value outside of the spire, and thus would not necessarily need to have any use within it.
The hardest choice was determining if I wanted to take a weapon, with the knowledge that the choice might influence the challenges to come.
My father would have wanted me to pick up a weapon, to push for combat tests as much as possible.
Our family had made our name in battle. He was a Shaper like his father and his grandfather. If I didn’t at least make an effort to carry on the family tradition, I knew he’d be ashamed of me.
But I loathed hurting people. I always had. I’d trained with my father for years, and I enjoyed the rush of sparring as much of anyone, but in those rare moments I’d managed to hurt him — or anyone else — I’d shut down.
Father thought that made me weak. Maybe he was right, but it didn’t change anything.
There was something I feared more than hurting others, however, and that was failing my brother.
Finding him was something I was willing to fight for.
I picked up the dueling cane and examined the surface.
The weapon was a metallic rod about the length of my forearm. The grip was black crystal inscribed with runes that would conduct my internal essence into the weapon. I adjusted my grip so that my thumb hovered over a button, presumably the trigger. I found a switch on the opposite end, which most likely would deploy the foot-long metallic blade within.
My own dueling canes had always been purely runic; the trigger mechanisms based on touching a rune and the application of focused thought. I was not an attuned — I had no magical abilities of my own — but anyone could use a dueling cane with sufficient practice. And I had practiced. And practiced.
A runic weapon like this would tear mana from the inside of the wielder’s body, using it to power a blast of energy if the cane was in its default state, or to charge the blade with energy if the weapon had been deployed. Duelists learned to quickly switch between states to use the melee and ranged functions. A single blast from a cane was often enough to incapacitate an unarmored target. Thus, dueling vests were used.
I took the dueling vest, too, and slipped it on. I replaced both the weapon and armor with coins.
Having already taken three items, I couldn’t resist taking a little bit more, even knowing the ever-growing risk.
I took the book and the scroll, again replacing them with coins. I really hoped the goddess liked coins.
The dueling cane’s mechanical parts bothered me. It was an unusual design, foreign. I flipped the switch on the back, and it deployed a blade as I expected. I had to push the switch back in and pull it down to get the blade to retract, which was an annoyance. It was most likely spring-loaded.
Well, I’d adapt.
The weapon had a small clip on the bottom designed to attach to clothing, which I used to secure it on my belt. I’d draw the cane the instant I sensed any chance of combat.
I flipped open the book. It appeared to be blank. A puzzle? I’d worry about it later. I put the book away.
I broke the seal on the scroll next, unrolling it.
On the positive side of things, this had writing on it.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t in a language I could read. Valdaric, maybe? I wasn’t a linguistics expert. I rolled it up and shoved it in my pack, mildly irritated.
I briefly considered whether or not the quill was meant to be used in conjunction with the blank book.
I had no way of knowing, really.
One quill exchanged for one coin.
A good deal for the goddess, as far as I was concerned. Maybe this whole tower thing was just an excuse to rob seventeen-year-olds of their hard-earned savings.
I doubted it, but who could know for sure?
I approached the blue door first. Blue was a nice, safe, tranquil color. It also was generally assumed to be associated with mental traits, and I figured I had the best chance of surviving mental puzzles.
I touched the gem. The door rumbled, sliding down into a depression in the ground.
The next room was square shaped, and in the midst of it, a smaller square, divided into a grid. There were three doors on the opposite side of the room, each with a different color of gem. Purple, green, and — um — maybe indigo?