Desperation seized Colby, he had to stop Cebriones, but knew not how. In a panic, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "No, don't come closer!"
A wispy voice emanated from the lamp, the Chronivac, Owen. "I hear your changing request, sir. You want to convert the approaching creatures into inanimate objects. Is that correct?"
Colby hardly took a breath before crying "Yes, yes!" The duo faced peril and he'd accept any solution.
Owen continued, oblivious to their danger. "Very well, sir. May I suggest changing them into statues? It would offer aesthetic appeal and be less messy." Colby shouted frantically, "Fine, just do it! Hurry!"
"As you command," replied Owen. "Commencing transformation in 3... 2... 1..."
A shocking premonition gripped Cebriones mid-approaching, an uncanny sense of impending doom. He hurled all his mighty strength into a charge, but found his booted feet rooted firmly to the cave floor.
Looking down in dread, Cebriones saw argent metal creeping up his calves and knees, a frigid transformation seizing his muscled limbs. His entire body and equipment began numbing under a spreading frost of silver.
Attempting a warning shout, Cebriones discovered his jaw sealed shut, lips frozen in a grim line. Icy constriction encased his torso and shoulders, the chill piercing deep into his dense flesh and bone.
Plate mail and bulging muscles alike took on a spectral sheen as his skin hardened into shining steel. A Vice tightened in Cebriones’ skull, crushing thought beneath increasing pressure. His vision dimmed as metallic eyes lost their fiery spark of life.
Thus did warrior Cebriones become trapped - an immortal sentinel of tarnishless silver, forever frozen mid-strike. Armed and armored still, he stood eternal watch over the chamber as a gleaming statue.
Behind Cebriones, Horror and disgust seized Tiberius at the sight of the warrior imprisoned in silver. He recognized the curse's foul magic, Flesh to Stone, though its power seemed strangely altered.
Certain of his divine protections, Tiberius paid the anomaly no heed. Take pride in his own faith and the blessings from the god of Sun and Fire. He strode towards Cebriones, incanting a Remove Curse to undo what Colby's "magic" had wrought.
Yet for all his holy blessings, Tiberius knew not the Chronivac's true might. As he closed on Cebriones, stepping within the lamp's invisible radius, and that he became the next target.
Tiberius felt searing heat overcome him from within. Sweat turned to steaming gold upon his skin as a fiery glow swelled beneath. He felt his blood boiling, turning into molten metal coursing through rigid veins. Hair and beard singed away, hardening to golden thread.
In desperation, Tiberius attempted the Remove Curse on himself, hoping to reverse the effect. But the spell had no effect on the lamp's incredible power. The lamp was stronger than any magic he knew. All he could do at the moment was form a soundless “Oh!” of stunned realization.
The golden radiance swelled from Tiberius' pores, its brilliance outshining even his polished armor. His body stiffened as rigidity set in, chasing away flexibility and thought. The cleric’s last fleeting thoughts were of regret for arrogance that blinded him
As the engulfing glow finally receded, all that remained was a monument of unblemished gold - a statue commemorating the fall of Tiberius' folly. Once a proud cleric, he was now preserved in golden supplication, paralyzed in a moment part arrogance and part startled disbelief.
Horror gripped Ambrus at the sight of his petrified comrades. He didn't know how or why, but he knew he didn't want to share their fate. Survival trumped treasure or renown now. Abandoning Cebriones and Tiberius, Ambrus turned and fled, not caring where his passage led so long as it bore him away swiftly.
This triggered something in the injured minotaur. The minotaur, who had been lying on the ground, wounded and exhausted, suddenly stood up. The wound on his torso was deep and bloody, but it didn't seem to bother him much. Instead, it fueled his rage and his instinct. Rising unsteadily, Nate forgot Colby and the lamp wielding its awesome power. Forgot pain and fear. Only one instinct remained - as guardian of these hallowed halls, no invader would escape his wrath.
Colby pleaded with Nate, but his friend was beyond reason. He cried out to Nate, recalling their bond of trust in hopes of calming the minotaur's rage.
But Nate heard not Colby's voice nor felt his touch. His eyes saw only the prey fleeing before him. Nate's thunderous bellows and the pounding of his mighty hooves drowned out all else as he charged into the shadows. Nate would catch this trespasser or die in the chase, such was the fury consuming him.
Colby felt the quaking stone fade as Nate pulled farther into the gloom. Sadness and guilt gripped him at having driven his companion to such a state. But no time remained for tears - he must make haste to heal Nate and pull him back from the wrathful ledge.
Rummaging Nate's treasure, Colby found healing potions to mend his wound. He tucked extras away for Nate's deeper hurts... but how to locate the minotaur amid this endless maze in darkness? With Nate's safety the sole focus, Colby again gripped the golden lamp, its mystical powers his lone hope.
"Owen, I need aid finding Nate - and swiftly!"
Owen's reply came patiently. "Sir, here are some forms that would best suit that task. You could try changing into a minotaur, and rush through these twisting halls, the race possessing an innate sense of direction. Alternatively, you could use scent to track Nate’s bleeding, and for that you could change into a scent hound, either feral or humanoid. If you consider one's power is limited, there are also two other possible targets in here that you could transform."
Colby pondered, trusting Owen's experience. As a minotaur, he could navigate these maze-like tunnels unerring. Or by hound, sniff out Nate's blood and musk despite the darkness. Either would speed his friend's rescue from the maddened rampage just begun. He need only utter the wish to commence his urgent rescue.