Sarah's Request
Kasim knelt down and invaded the dwarven mind of his chosen connection with a natural skill that comes from his natural talent, and almost immediately finds himself swimming in a sea of thought. It was ordered so clearly that it almost felt like a library, but before Kasim could even attempt to metaphorically make that connection he felt the assault on his own mind begin. He caught images of a being pallid of skin with a face that... *flicker* the perspective changed and he saw through another dwarves eyes as it fought against the monstrosity in the shadow. Many limbs striking and hissing its insectine voice mocking those who enter the barrow of the master.
The last thing Kasim saw before he was forced to break the connection lest the malignant being controlling the dwarf took him over was eight eyes and far too long fangs descending towards the other dwarf's face.
Meanwhile Ein's shoved one of the levers forwards, luck guiding her hand as she shoved the one on the right, the portcullis door winched open and she could see within. A glowing protective pentagram lay on the floor in front of a fogged mirror water cascading from somewhere above revealing the next surprise. Blood and a dead dwarf slumped against the wall with large webs everywhere.
And something else unexpected. A small bag of gold down by the portcullis's now open entryway.
Carnival of Chaos
Cristoff made contact with the mirror to try and find out what happened and discovered what would happen instantly, and unexpectedly. Suddenly he was in a ring of mirrors. Each of them with the slightly different frame. There was no clear way out, touching another Cristoff found himself transported again. Realising there was a pattern to them it didn't take him long to find a pattern to it. He knew it was leading him towards the end of the challenge, this strange hall of mirrors.
And then suddenly, the feeling left him. He found himself suddenly without light in what he could feel was a close enclosed space a hissing sound could be heard nearby, a thousand reflected lights appeared in the mirrors, not strong enough to light up the area, but clear enough for Cristoff to realise it was a burning fuse. All he had to do was find the right one...
...
Meanwhile Aneura in the hall of pendulums waited, studying the pattern. It proved to be a relatively easy task for the first two groups of pendulums before suddenly the pattern changed. New pendulums were moving, from the walls, from the floor moving in less predictable vectors and Aneura nearly lost her head as one left a thin red score across her right cheek as one passes far far too close.
And the clock was ticking down. Aneura could see that the pendulums were quicker and more numerous, but doable, but that up ahead there was a fork, a choice to make. Left, or right.
...
Hanus found himself confronted by a dark parody of a circus. Nightmarish clowns moving around in pantomime as skeletal customers grinned skeletal grins from the audience stands. A mostly starved bear danced to the tune the clowns had playing. And yet. For the life of him Hanus couldn't see the immediate challenge. It was not nearly as apparent as he'd expected.
And then he realised it.
He was the 'lion' in the lion tamer act.
With a savage growl he began his act. Jumping through the hoops as his 'trained' demanded. He studied the events around him as the illusion cracked his whip and made him do tricks like some sort of performing animal. And then something came to his nostrils after about half the allotted time, towards the back of the tent.
Gunpowder burning. He wasn't playing anymore. Instead he ripped through the flimsy material and found it, several crates of explosives with their gunpowder fuses burning intently. Enough to level a quarter of the town instead he charged in and started ripping the fuses from the explosives.
...
Tristan Whitemarch proceeded over to the Galerie le Tournage and smiled, a shooting gallery. He prepared his weapon as the 'attendant' brought him "right up." The smell of gunpowder potent as he prepared for the game, "Look here sonny, you get a bullseye you get the surprise, you miss, and you get another surprise, then you get another shot. Got it?"
"Got it." Tristan remarked as he levelled his weapon to his shoulder and aimed carefully. On firing the shot went well and truly wide. And then CRACK! A shot spat out from the display and punched through the meat of his shoulder with all too much effectiveness. So the game truly was dangerous.
Reloading painfully he took careful aim once more and this time he missed by a fraction of an inch. A bullet punched out from the display and ripped through his lungs in return. Coughing up blood he knew he couldn't afford to miss again as he reloaded his weapon. Aiming carefully he fired a third time. The round punched through the stand holding the display up and the world went white. A shot from the display punched through his heart and he lapsed down dead.
The display crumbled around him as the fuses on the explosives continued to burn. There would be no stopping this one. A voice whispered into Tristan's ear as his last breaths were drawn, "I always hedge my bets."
With an almighty roar the explosives went off and a quarter of the illusion vanished along with quarter of the town as the powerful bomb went off. A poignant message to the others that mistakes couldn't be afforded.