I HAD ORIGINALLY PLANNED TO DETAIL EACH OF SUNG'S CASTLE TRAPS, BUT ONE OF MY "VOLUNTEER EDITORS" HAD A DIFFERENT IDEA. GREG ASKED IF I REALLY NEEDED ALL THAT DETAIL ABOUT THE TRAPS.  HE SAID, "We get it--Sung's evil!" SO, UPON MUCH REFLECTION, I CONCLUDED IT WAS GETTING A BIT BOGGED DOWN, SO THE TRAPS GOT GLOSSED OVER, LEAVING THE FIRST ONE, AND THE POISONED SPIKES (my personal favorite). OF THE ONES I DELETED, THIS IS THE ONE I PUT THE MOST THOUGHT INTO . . . .

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    They proceeded cautiously across the main room and into the hallway leading to the stairs.  The soldiers in the center again, Soro and Nakai taking point and the Wizard guarding the rear.

    Halfway through the hallway, Soro spoke, “Do you smell that?”

    Clever Nakai had already placed the scent, “Yes.  Oil, but where—”

    Too late.  Again.

    As Nakai was about to call out to the others, the far end of the floor they were standing on suddenly dropped down into a steep ramp, spilling one soldier down until he slammed headfirst into the wall at the bottom.  The others had scurried back just in time and were safe at the top of the ramp.

    I think it bears mentioning that the mechanisms I had built into my traps were brutally efficient.  Other than the pitiful screams of the men, the crashing and clanking of armor and the crunch of bones and flesh, they were disturbingly quiet.

    The section of the floor that had tilted was twelve feet long, leaving another twelve feet of level surface.  The level section is where the soldier had landed.  It spanned the width of the hallway, so the walls on either side dropped straight down into it.  While the others stood looking down the ramp at the unmoving soldier, the Wizard was already uncoiling one of the ropes they had brought with them.

    One of the soldiers took the rope from him, “Please, allow me.” He looked down the ramp, at the man sprawled there. “We have been friends for many years and have shared many battles.” He smiled, securing the rope around his waist, “Our best skill seems to be saving each other’s lives.”

    He had just started down the ramp when Soro stopped him.

    “Wait!  If something is going to happen, it will happen now.  I know he is your friend, but we need not lose both of you.” The other soldier had just started to stir.

    “You do not understand, he—”

    Nakai heard it first, “Get back!!” he shouted.

    A dark, thick tide of foul-smelling liquid flooded down from the top of the ramp.

    “No!!” the soldier cried as Soro held him back from the viscous fluid pouring from the rock at his feet.

    The soldier at the bottom—fully awake now—screamed, anticipating a horrifying death by searing acid, or something equally horrible.  His screams faded as he realized his skin was not melting off his bones.  Everyone was silent for a few seconds as the flood slowed to a trickle.  Then the soldier reached down to touch the thick liquid that had pooled up to his knees.

    “I—I am all right,” he called out, holding the back of his head. “It is just . . . oil.” He rubbed it between his fingers. “Yes, it is just oil!” he cried happily. “But I cannot walk up the ramp now; it is too slick.  Throw me the rope!”

    “Yes . . . all right . . . here!” his friend tossed it down.

    As the man reached for the rope, the oil that had pooled around him quickly drained away leaving only a thick coating in its wake.  He stopped and looked down, “What . . .?”

    “No, do not stop!  Grab the rope!  Hurry!” He came to his senses and continued reaching for the rope.

    Suddenly, the floor jerked and everyone froze.  No one moved for several seconds, then the soldier holding the rope cried out as the top end of the slab tilted upwards another six inches. 

    Silence.  No one moved.

    After a few moments, the soldier realized nothing else was happening and continued clamoring for the rope.  It was only a foot from his straining fingers, but the ramp was too slick to allow him even a few inches of movement.    “I cannot reach it!” he cried. “Throw it again!  Hurry!!” (con't)