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@Old Man Jenkins is wrong, i discoverd it

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THANKS YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES

'Twas I who discovered "TRAPPING YOURSELF #2." If you've the time for a story I'll tell you how.
I traded for the secret with a wizened old gnome named Rizzen. His fondness of machinations and seemingly unquenchable curiosity had led him across many a land. Knowledge, he sought, knowledge long past, or perhaps hidden. He spoke of a land of buttes and mesas, not bleached by the sun but rather shadowed by the face of a terrible mountain. The Black Mesas, a land now as abandoned by its people as by the sun. Galad'Es they called the great rise, roughly The Undying Red in the Elder Tongue. Nestled in a small valley of tumbled rocks and patchy brown growth at the feet of the mountain were the ruins of a city once so great it stood facing the terrible rock face and shook its fist at it. Celyon, he called it, and a high price they did pay in the end for their pride; the great crag was old and steeped with treachery before the most ancient line of men had come to this world.

(1/5)

"But why go to such an evil place?" I asked him, "surely there is comparable knowledge in fairer lands."
"Oh, aye, comparable," the little man laughed, "it be comparable as spying a man through a looking glass be to shaking his hand and sharing a cup of ale." He laughed softly to himself, but his face quickly darkened. Softly, he went on, "no, friend, the craft of the machines hidden beneath that mountain may yet help untold thousands, but their purpose is a thing of such evil it is chilling even next to the warm hearth of a crowded inn."
There is a library, once towering and magnificent, now little more than dust, once renown was for its erudition of the Galad'Es' evil works. Much was lost, the mountain did not appreciate being studied and worked to destroy the texts when it could exert such power. Still, Rizzen found that which he sought. A leather-bound book marked only by an inscription of a die with single hearts in the place of ascending pips on its faces.

(2/5)

"So clever, the workings it detailed. The most of it will help the whole of society, mayhaps even the recipe for some kind of pastry I found tucked in the back will help some." Rizzen had recovered somewhat from his dark mood, but still he kept his voice low.
"But what use does a mountain have of machinery? Surely it needs not eat, it can defend itself well enough it seems and despises illumination of any kind. Does it watch beasts run on wheels for entertainment?"
He looked at me then with such a hardness in his eyes that for a moment his size diminished his menace like a candle diminishes the sun. "I would be careful joking about things of which you know naught, friend, you may find yourself amongst the beasts in the wheels. Not wheels, no, though it is entertained. These workings are mazes, puzzles, inescapable and endless. The Galad'Es watches, and laughs, and keeps you alive for an eternity of its own amusement."

(3/5)

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, and sighed. "Evil doings, indeed. 'Twould seem the only pleasure in such a life would be some small form of rebellion were escape impossible." It was then he told me about the machines, and the ways he saw to trick them, to defeat the spying eyes and frustrate the cursed rock. We bid each other a fair night, he went up to his room (for we both stayed in the same inn). I sat for a while and stared into the crackling hearth. The murmur of conversation was low, the hours were small. A smell of roasted lamb and sage still hung in the air. Draining my cup of wine, I stood up and made my way towards the stairs. The lamps hanging from the wall were turned down, shadows flickering across the knotted pine floorboards as I stepped lightly towards the room at the end of the hall. Blowing out the lamps closest me, I silently pushed the door open; it wouldn't squeak, I had greased the hinges myself earlier that evening.

(4/5)

The roof sloped steeply into the opposite corner of the dark room and as I made my way to the bed I kept my steps to the boards I knew wouldn't creak, I had tested around a bit when I had oiled the hinges but as a rule keeping to where the supports ran across the building was a safe bet. Not that it should matter, the valerian and cloudleaf I had dumped into the gnome's wine had helped loosen his tongue and facilitated deep, restive sleep. Standing over the gnome, I leaned down and plunged a knife into his heart. Well, he was awake now. Softly, as the light seeped away from his eyes, I whispered in his ear, "I'm not even angry." Leaving the knife in his heart, I walked out of his room and made my way out of the inn, whistling a little tune. The night may well be getting on towards dawn, but there was science to do.

(5/5)

Best guide I saw in a while lol