The House of 1,000 Chambers (solo perhaps)

It had been a long day for Arawn, he had worked been assigned cleaning duties for the day. After a long bath he made it back to his room and sat down in his chair. His sword lay across the bed. He had wanted to take some time to practice, but was called away by the cleaning assignment. Sweeping and moving boxes could be considered a workout in itself. He wanted to become better with the sword, but he knew it would take time. At most he used the blade only to supplement his martial arts skills. But after fighting with Garin he knew even those were lacking.
“Maybe I can ask him to introduce me to that teacher of his?” He said aloud, but for some reason dismissed the idea. The way Garin had explained it, seemed the guy wasn’t high on the shinigami’s friend list. With his luck it might end up doing harm by bringing more attention to the man. Arawn was good with secrets, but might make some kind of slip up and ruin Garin’s shinigami career as well as his own. He looked at the sheathed weapon. As he thought about martial arts he realized that relying on zanjutsu solely left shinigami a massive weakness. Once they were unarmed their fighting potential dropped significantly. True the use of kido spells did give them something, but at lower levels it was nearly fatal if they lost the sword. Why wasn’t hand-to-hand combat an offered course?
He took the blade off the bed and put it away in the closet. He’d have to examine the matter in the morning. It was a weekend maybe he’d have some time, he could only hope.

The next day he was lucky enough to be free of tasks. It seemed none of the other students knew anything about a combat course. There were some advanced zanjutsu classes that showed some bare hand fighting, but that proved to be mainly defensive blocks and guards. The class was old man Miyahara; he had let Arawn come visit his class. Kenichi is instructing the students as Miyahara sits over his game with a cup of tea.
“You seem disappointed.” The old man said not looking up. Arawn wonders how he does that.
“Somewhat.” He begins reluctantly, he wonders if Miyahara knows anything. “I wanted to learn some unarmed combat skills. If I lose my sword I’m almost helpless.”
Miyahara chuckles at the comment. “But you’re helpless now even with a sword.”
Arawn sighs, that much is true as well; perhaps that’s the true reason for his quest. “You rather protect yourself with your own power. Why rely on something unsure and untested?”
“You are insightful as always Miyahara sensei.” Arawn mutters. Almost too perceptive Arawn is tempted to add. Miyahara looks at Arawn for several seconds then returns back to his game.
“I have an old friend that is quite skilled in such things.” He begins. “I could have with a word with him to show you a thing or two.” Arawn brightens immediately. “But it’s not simple matter, it’s up to him if he wishes to see you or not.” That’s more than enough for Arawn; some chance is better than no chance. “I’ll send word to him; we might hear a reply by tomorrow at best. You should retire to your room for now.” As Arawn gets up to leave Miyahara calls Kenichi over. The sun hangs low in the sky, waiting in his room sounds like a good idea. Arawn makes his way back to the dorm.

In the middle of the night he receives a knock at the door. He looks over at the clock; it’s nearly three in the morning. Arawn is more surprised that the knock woke him; he’s usually a heavy sleeper. He leaps from the bed and opens the door, the hallway is empty, but there is a plain white envelope on the floor. He looks up and down the hallway several times, but it’s dark and empty. He bends over and picks up the envelope and returns to his room. Once inside his room he opens the envelope; inside was a small well written note and a map.
Come alone to this location, bring no weapon, tell no one. Arawn reread the note, but could not see any hidden meaning. The map was rather vague, but had some familiar landmarks he recognized. While a part of him thought it was some kind of prank, another part of him was curious. Another free day awaited him, why not take a chance? He went back to bed.

Seven hours later Arawn was dressed in his recently obtained shinigami black robes and made his way through Seireitei. The map wasn’t as helpful as he thought, rather than betray the letter he didn’t talk to anyone about his destination. It wasn’t till midday that he reached the location. It was a very old looking japanese style mansion. It looked straight out of a picture book. The architecture was simple yet elegant, the gateway to the mansion grounds stood open, Arawn walked through. A small garden lined both sides of the stone path that led to the front door. It was then that Arawn noticed there was a woman standing before him in a white kimono.
“Hello.” Arawn started, surprised by her sudden appearance, he was sure she wasn’t there a second ago. “I….was following this map.” She was like a statue standing by the front door, her eyes never left his. The paper screen sliding door then came open and she bowed then walked inside. Arawn stood there for a moment peering at the black portal. Was he supposed to go inside? The map had led him there, whoever or whatever had to be inside. He climbed up the short steps and entered.

Although it looked dark from afar the room was well lit. The floors were straw mats and there were small lights affixed to the walls. The door suddenly closed behind him, he tried to pull the hand open, but it wouldn’t budge. Once the door closed he noted that all the walls looked very much alike. To his left, right, and front were similar sliding doors. He spotted no trace of the lady in the kimono. Was he supposed to wait here? Almost on cue the door to the left slid open. From afar he could see the room looked just like this one, and it looked just as empty. There was no way to be sure, the doorway gave only a limited field of vision. Arawn walked over and stepped through. The door shut once more behind him and he stood in room just like the other, but there were afew differences. The first difference was a metal object to his left nearly five feet tall. It looked like a metal pole that became a ‘T’. On the edges of the ‘T’ were sphere like objects which connected to short metallic cylinders that in turn connected another sphere. The second sphere connected to a second shorter cylinder and which in turn ended with another sphere. It looked almost like a torso with arms, the spheres look like it’s shoulders, elbows, and hands. On the top of the ‘T’ sits a flat metal plate with red dot in the exact center like a bulls-eye. The second difference from the other room is a sign that hangs right above the metal figure’s head. Now standing in the center of the room Arawn reads the sign aloud. “Hit the red target.” The room is completely empty otherwise. How either item got there is a mystery. It seemed like some kind of test, a strength test? Arawn walked over to the metal figure. As he raised his fist, the figure’s metal arm rose and slammed into his stomach. Arawn stumbled backwards gasping for air. This wasn't a simple doll and this wasn't a simple test.

It takes a moment for him to catch his breath. The figure doesn’t move. Arawn’s eyes dart around the room. The only decoration on the walls are the light fixtures, there is no spying hole too be seen. Is someone controlling the figure? He moves back towards the figure his hands up in a guarding position. The metal right arm rises into an uppercut, but Arawn is read. He steps to his own right and out of it’s range. Just as the right arm drops the left swings up. The dodge to the right puts him directly into the oncoming punch’s path. His body already in motion he can only sway head and neck left. The uppercut comes within inches of his cheek. Before he can congratulate himself, the right arm strikes again, Arawn hops backwards away from the figure. The metal arms are limp at it’s side once again. Once more Arawn examines the walls of the rooms, and he still can’t find any kind of spying device or observer.
“That leaves only one thing.” He says to the empty room. Standing in front of the figure he moves only his leg forward. As suspected the arms begin swinging. He pulls his leg back and the arms stop. He steps around the figure to face it’s side, he puts his leg forward. Rather than punch the arm spins in a complete circle blocking any kind of attack aimed at the head. He stands behind the figure and moves his leg, the punching resumes. There is no target on the back of the figure, so moving from behind is completely useless.

Arawn stands and watches the machine as it punches, his body out of range. The figure uses the same motion for each punch and the timing nearly a second with a small delay between. He could try blocking one punch while he hits the target, but he quickly remembers the strength of the strike that hit his stomach. He would be completely on defensive. In his mind the best course of action has already revealed itself. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. The only noise in the room is that of the figure swinging it’s arms. Arawn stares at it and counts to himself, he has to move at the right moment. The figure’s right arm punches and he dashes forward. As the arm drops Arawn left hand punches for the red target. There is a clang as his left hand strikes the metal and the figure’s left hand comes to a halt. The figure goes limp even with Arawn standing so close to it. The door to Arawn’s left slides open. Is the test over? He walks into the room. Too late he notices that it’s not the same room he was just in. The doors slides shut behind him quickly. Didn’t he enter from the same door? The room he’s in has sight hanging in the middle. A sign hangs from the ceiling; “Press the button” On the opposite wall from the one he entered is a round red circle button that stands out against the wooden décor. After the last room the simplicity made him cautious. As he stepped forward there was a hissing sound to his right, the stepped back just as a pendulum blade cut a foot from where he was standing. It wasn’t the only blade in the room either, three other pendulums swung across the room. The room was now divided into quarters, the blades swung hypnotically. Jumping over the blade would be possible, but he might hit the arm that swung it. As he watched the swing he noted it had smaller blades along it’s side, making it equally as dangerous. Timing his run between the blades was the best solution.

As the first blade reached it’s apex, he ran forward, the second blade was cutting into the floor. He waited a second and made his second dash. The next two blades seemed faster, the gap from it’s high point to low shorter. Rather than cross in the middle, he would run from the far side. He positioned himself on the far left as the blade swung right, and made it across. He repeated the same for the next blade and walked over to the button. When he pressed the button there was a click and the blades stopped swinging. The door slid open to reveal only darkness. Arawn peered through the portal, but the light from the room barely crossed the threshold. Reluctantly he stepped through. As expected the door shut behind him, but lights exploded to life along the walls.

Rather than a room he stood in long hallway. The spot where he stood was as wide as the room he had left, but suddenly it narrowed into a small corridor with a low ceiling. The hallway was as barely as wide as he was tall, but barely ten feet high. Another thing odd about the hall was the floor. Instead of the matted floor it was solid looking concrete with small circles. There was click and from the many holes sprang small metal spears reaching as high as his face. As they lower another row of spears rises, and then the next. Soon it’s a cascading wall of spears flowing from one end of the hallway to the other. Arawn’s mouth hangs in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He turns back to the door and tries to force it open. The pendulums were bad enough, but this was insane. The sliding door doesn’t budge an inch. He tries to punch a hole through the paper screen, but his hand stops as he hits it, held by some invisible force form piercing it. There is no going back, he could only go forward. There is a second clicking sound and from the hallway’s low ceiling a row of spears drop. Soon the two dance in harmony. The floor spears stop at the far side as the ceiling spears begin their trek. Moving forward just got harder.

He watched the spears as they danced. It was almost as hypnotic as the pendulums were. Arawn’s breath went shallow as the tried to figure the timing. He had to chase the spears on the bottom as they retreated and dodge the ones from the ceiling as they advanced. The speed was fast, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep behind the spears, but by the time they rest behind him he’d have enough of a lead. At least that was the theory. He let the spears reach the far end and stood on the edge where they would restart. The spikes shot up in front of him; upon closer examination they were metallic looking and sharpened to a wide but deadly point. They would easily break his flesh, was this really a test anymore?

The spikes shoot up in front of him again and he dashes. The spears are faster than he than he imagined. He quickly falls behind. As they reach the halfway point, he’s barely cleared the first quarter of the stretch. Arawn’s breathing becomes labored as he pushes himself harder; he needs to close the gap. His footsteps echo on the holed ground. The only other sound is the hiss as the spears rise and fall. He watches as the spears from the ceiling make their approach. The two sets of spears almost touch as they cross each other in the center of the hallway. It’s a good thing he wasn’t right behind the ground spears; we wouldn’t have room to dodge the ones from the ceiling. But the spears from the roof now are coming at him while the floor set pull steadily away. Arawn rolls forward, he feels a gust of air against his back. He springs out of the roll onto his feet, and back into a dead run. He’s nearly to the center of the hallway and the floor spikes are nearly to the end. In his mind he screams at himself to go faster. As if his life being at stake isn’t motivation enough. He crossed the halfway point just as the floor spikes reached the stopping point in the hall. Suddenly there was click. The spikes from the floor started back towards him; they had reversed! He didn’t take the time to turn around, but could only guess the same had happened to the ceiling. Evading something you can see coming isn’t as tricky as something coming from behind. Arawn was hoping to only have to dodge the floor hazard from behind. How was he going to jump over the four foot points coming at him? His legs pumped beneath him as his brain screamed in panic. The time for thought was short; he was racing towards it rather than running from it. Feet from the spikes he kicked off the wall and fully extended his body to touch the other wall. The sweaty palms barely held onto the wall. Locking his arms he moved feet and legs higher on the opposite wall. His body now parallel he arched his back, the spikes passed harmlessly below him. He quickly dropped; he couldn’t stay in the position long. The hiss behind him told him that the second set was close. As he dropped he felt something strike his back, he saw the spears above speed past him from the floor.

He touched his back with his hand, it was warm and wet. The pain hit him. How bad would have to wait, he had to make to end of the hallway. A new problem with the reversed motion was that he would need to jump the spikes again. And the pain in his back might hider him from doing that ‘bridge’ maneuver. He stumbled forward into a run once more, pushing his body despite the growing pain. The ceiling hazard just finished, he was a mere ten feet from the hallway’s end. The spikes in the floor sprang forth, his back spasms as to warn him to not try the wall climb again. I might not have to, he says to himself. He kicks off the wall as before, but this time he only uses it to extend his jump. Arawn goes over the rising spikes and dives headfirst for the door’s threshold. Unfortunately, his head hits the ground hard before his hands can cushion the impact. He slides through the opening into the room unconscious. He’s lying on stomach his shirt removed, he feels itchy against the straw mat floor. His head is pounding he reaches up to touch it and finds that it’s been bandaged. He pushes himself up and notes that his stomach has wraps around it holding a bandage against his back. He looks around the new room. Who did this to him? He sees the woman in the white kimono standing before him. “Did you do this?” he begins to ask. She looks at him as if seeing through him. The door slides open behind her; the light of the room doesn’t pierce the darkness beyond the portal. She steps through and vanishes. “Wait!” But she’s gone. The shirt he was wearing lays beside him, he grabs it and rushes after her through the door.

He’s outside the house; the lady in the kimono isn’t anywhere to be seen. It’s dark, very dark. How long has he been in there? He turns just as the door slides shut behind him. “Wait!” he yells again, but the door closes completely. What was that place, if it was a test, does that mean he failed? Anger wells up in him, the thought of using kido to break the door jumps into his mind, but quickly vanishes. This is ‘rich’ portion of Sereitei, he even as a shinigami wouldn’t be forgiven for causing a ruckus. He was angry as he was curious and frustrated. “I know you’re watching me.” He states evenly trying to hide maelstrom within. “I don’t know where you are, but I know you’re there.” The events of the last trap made it evident that someone had triggered the shift of motion. There had been no buttons or switches hit on his part. “I don’t know what any of that was about, but I’ll be back one day and level this place.” He steps from the shut door, and looks back at the mansion. “And when I find you….” He lets his statement trail off. It’s an empty threat, but it makes him feel better. He limps back to the dorms. The pain is his back isn’t as bad as before, and his head doesn’t hurt anymore. So whoever it is didn’t want him dead. Still there are limits to what you can subject a person to. Revenge was a nice word, but without knowing who, it was a fool’s errand. It could be some noble, rich and eccentric, acting as the pleased. He sighed, gods he hated being a shinigami more and more.