FireOmens
Altair’s hooves clicked steadily as he moved through the passage, but when the corridor opened into the massive chamber, he slowed to a halt. His sharp gaze locked onto the enormous clockwork mechanism embedded into the stone wall. Massive gears, some as large as his entire body, ground together with a rhythm that sent a chill through the stale dungeon air. Brass and iron meshed in an ancient, endless pattern of turning and clicking.

For a moment, Altair just stood, staring. It wasn’t the first strange device they’d encountered in this dungeon, but it was by far the most complex. His gut told him this mechanism was dangerous—something designed long ago to do more than just sit there gathering dust. He approached it carefully, trying to discern its purpose, but the interlocking gears hid their secret well.

Without turning, Altair called out, “Logue. What do you make of this?”

Logue, his lanky form moving awkwardly through the chamber, approached with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. His eyes flicked over the gears, and he scratched at the bristly hair along his jaw.

“Old,” Logue muttered, his voice low and distracted. He was staring intently at the machine, as if trying to see beyond the metal and stone. “Older than anything else we’ve seen down here.”

Altair glanced at Logue out of the corner of his eye. “Older? How much older?”

Logue didn’t answer immediately, his attention still consumed by the grinding gears. He leaned in closer, listening. “You hear that?” he finally said, his voice almost a whisper. “The rhythm. It’s… off. Like it’s waiting.”

Altair frowned, his eyes narrowing as he listened to the gears. Logue was right. The mechanism’s movements were deliberate, but they seemed hesitant, as though they weren’t turning at full speed. And the sound… it wasn’t natural. It was too methodical, too purposeful.

Then, with a deafening clunk, the entire mechanism stopped. The sudden silence was jarring, and Altair immediately tensed. His muscles coiled instinctively, preparing for whatever might happen next.

In the distance, somewhere deep within the dungeon, came a low rumble. It was faint at first, but it grew louder, like the sound of a great stone being moved. The echo reverberated through the chamber, filling the air with a sense of foreboding.

“What did you do?” Altair growled, his voice tight with suspicion.

Logue flinched back, holding up his hooves in defense. “I didn’t do anything! I didn’t even touch it!” He glanced nervously at the machine, which now stood completely still. “It… it just stopped.”

The rumbling started to grow louder.

"Guys... think quick... I have no ideas what's coming...what we just activated."

hollow_forest
Pancake was perplexed by the giant gears and rhythmic clicking and grinding from the mechanism. What was such a thing used for, she wondered… Perhaps it was the Wizard’s own clock? Given its size and all.

She fixed an ear back as Logue’s voice became a whisper, hushed, the brindle Courser offset by the mechanism’s rhythm. It’s off… Like it’s waiting. Pancake narrowed his eyes, glancing about the room suspiciously.

“Maybe it’s waiting to show us another mirror.” Pancake mused.

Though it had got the bay Courser to thinking. Of course, any device within the dungeon always had a purpose–sometimes a dubious purpose–this one couldn’t just tell the time when it could, instead, plant a deathtrap for adventurers!

Suddenly, the whole thing came to a stop. The behemoth gears that appeared to have been churning for centuries and could withstand many more just stopped. The sound of rolling stones across began to echo throughout the hallways. Faint, then overwhelming. Ominous.

Pancake pinned his ears back, cringing at the sound at the thoughts of what would happen when it ceased. His brain began to think over all the possibilities like a harpy diving for its prey.

Surely, it was a trap, but what could that trap be? Perhaps it was a door opening for some behemoth, gear-sized monster to run out and feast on their entire party. Or maybe, it was part of some pulley system, and when it finished falling spikes would pop out from the cobble floors and spell a terrible end for Pancake and her companions.

Or–instead of spikes, sand would begin to fall from the ceiling and fill the hall, swallowing them whole!

Within the same moment, Pancake snapped out of her thoughts. It didn’t matter what it could be, what had to be done was putting a stop to it.

Pancake rushed deeper into the hallway, head tilted up towards the giant mechanism, her armor clanging against him with each stride, the lantern clipped to it illuminating the way. He came to a sudden stop.

“There!” Pancake called out, just where the mechanism ended was a lever embedded within the cobblestone walls. If there was anything to reset the mechanism with the seconds they must have, it had to be this!

However, it was quite far for any Courser, something she couldn’t reach just by rearing back on her hindlegs-much less pulling it down. Suppose it was built for whatever tall creature made those gears. The thought of unsheathing her blade to give him more height was a thought… but there was no way he’d be able to reach…

A blade…

“Renault!” Pancake would add shortly after she alerted her party to the lever. “Can you reach?” He asked with wide eyes, an optimistic smile forming on his muzzle. That old stallion carried a broadsword on him! Maybe it was within his range!

springfoss
Renault came to a stop at Altair’s shoulder when the passage they were walking opened suddenly into a towering chamber. The white stallion seemed to think himself the leader of their motley bunch, and while that grated a bit at Renault’s lone-wolf sensibilities, he let it go without contest. Parties like this needed a leader to keep everyone from cutting adrift. 

He did, however, pin his ears back when Altair called Logue up to the mechanism embedded along the wall. He stayed quiet, but it certainly did more than grate that Altair hand-picked the other stallion to take a look. Sure, Renault had proven himself to be more a fighter than a thinker, but he figured it was more than that. Just like Altair slipped himself into the role of leader, Logue seemed quite content to slip into the role of a follower. Renault couldn’t help but wonder if that loyalty was why Altair favored him. 

He stepped up behind them, staying at their flank while the two more puzzle-minded coursers studied the mechanism. He exchanged a glance with Pancake before turning his own eyes to the massive gears. The faint sound of a heavy ticking had been plaguing them for a while in the dungeon corridors, and now it seemed they’d found the source. 

Until, suddenly, it all went silent. 

Renault tensed when the ancient mechanism suddenly stopped without even a hint as to why. Almost immediately, his stress was given a target, as a distant but unmistakably loud roaring came from the passage behind them, getting steadily closer. 

Altair and Logue balked at the sudden threat, and their impromptu leader coaxed the others into action. Renault couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed that he was only now asking their opinion; sure, he got it, everyone had their strengths and should use them. And now was certainly not the time to be frustrated, with certain death roaring down the passage toward them. 

While the other two stallions froze, Renault lurched forward. He followed his first instinct, which was to rear up and slam his steel-shod hooves onto the ridge of one massive gear. He bore his weight down as much as he could, hoping to kickstart the mechanism into moving again, but it barely budged. 

Then, a shout from further down the chamber had him whipping his head around. Pancake had taken off, and Renault had learned in their travels not to underestimate the spunky little courser. 

Just as he was dropping back to all fours and starting to gallop toward Pancake, she called out again, this time his name. He kicked it into high gear, all instincts firing at being given a purpose, and he thundered down the chamber to Pancake’s side. It wasn’t hard to see what Pancake was calling him for: an old, rusted lever, well out of Pancake’s own range, but, maybe- 

Renault saw where Pancake was going with this and drew his broadsword, rearing up and pressing his knees to the wall. He strained his neck, and did indeed managed to hook his sword around the base of the lever, but it was just high enough that he had almost no leverage trying to pry it downward. Straining against the stuck mechanism with his sword only made his teeth and neck ache, but luckily, he wasn’t out of ideas. 

He dropped down to all fours with a grunt and turned to Pancake, thrusting his head out with the sword hilt held carefully by the end so that he could get a grip on it as well. Once his mouth was free, he twisted the other way, to the two stallions who had hurriedly followed Pancake’s call down the chamber. 

“Altair, come here,” He snapped, too rushed to be polite about anything. When the courser came, confused and eyeing the lever, Renault shoved up beside him and just shoved him into the wall. Pressed skin-to-skin from their shoulders to their haunches, Renault held the startled stallion in place and jerked his head at Pancake. “You’re small, get up,” He jerked his chin toward his own back, held level with Altair’s. It was…weird, and dangerous, but surely no more dangerous than whatever was rushing down the corridor right towards them.