Into the Crypt
#6 of Pen and Paper Challenge
A one of adventure for sure.
Into the Crypt
The amber glow from the lantern reflected off the cavern walls. The gentle rocking of light creaked and echoed with each step. It was foolish they said to enter the old crypt.
"Sure, strange noises could be heard from within. Sure, some have claimed to see the dead walk, but why would you let a little... excitement get between you and oodles of treasure. Think of that poor gold buried with those stuffy rotting corpses, whom have no intent of spending the pretty little things ever again. Bah, it was a waste. Nigh! It was a crime! Miser Lint Pockets was going to fix that sorry mistake.
And what will it cost lil' old me, but a bit of ale and an evening without rest. And what of an evening spent filling ones pockets for it is an evening well spent."
The feline burglar swung his lantern about, casting shadows along the wall. The lantern's light exposing his orange fur and blackened marks, his dull brown eye darting about. While the other eye remained dull and motionless. He slinked the halls best he could; however, he dragged one foot everywhere he went. Bent and broken it was, from never healing properly after being attacked by some roughens a few years back.
"Branham, that's the name they'll all remember. The one who went from rags to riches, of course they mock me now, but not once I's has the gold. Then it will be Branham who mocks. I'll throw coins in pity of their poverty. So it's a little dark...and cold. Still there is sure a no shit ghosties roaming these halls."
Branham in his tattered clock stops to poke at one of the many remains adorning the halls. The flesh all but removed from the bone.
"You ant goin' move are yeah, won't even make a sound. Probably the first to finger you sorry bones in years!" The old feline hack's coughing up a bit of blood. "Well that can't be good for meh."
Limping back along the forgotten halls, he starts to cling to his form, feeling a chill in the air. "Blasted cold," he shudders. "Why can't long lost treasures be somewhere nice and warm with lots of puddy."
As he rounds the corner he's greeted with the gruesome site of a young man clad in armor impaled along one wall. The trap triggered and fallen into ruin. Mournfully Branham says "Poor fellow," he pauses for a moment head in a bow, "wheeeelp, time to see what your sorry ass had."
Shuffling over to the corpse, which lay pin to a pike, Barnham haunches over and tries to pull the corpse free. With a rather load pop, Branham's back courses in pain. "Ooooo, eeeeee! The gods be damned that hurt." A seemingly drunk dance ensues as he tries to walk off the intense pain. Recovering he lashes out for revenge. Bring up his good leg, he swiftly kicks the corpse remember all too late the armor that clung to the dead adventure. A resounding ping echoed through the tunnels as his waltz continued once more.
"And what is a dead fool worth anyways, nothing but a lot of pain," he snarled. "You're lucky some other fool gave you the shaft, else I'd show you a thing or too." With a huff, Barnham lifted himself up and ignored the fallen warrior. Placing one hand on the beam and lifting his good leg over first. "Don't get any funny ideas you soggy sap." Before swinging over the other. Now deeper inside he continued to pressing forward.
"What was I sayin, ah yeah. I can't wait to walk into that fat pigs so called fine dinner...what he call it estahbuiltmint? Whatever, I'll eat all his food and fit the bill to. Heck I might even pork over a few more coins to have a few rounds with that piglet of his, hehe!"
Hosting his lantern a bit higher he held it to some ancient glyphs that lined the walls. "Confound it, why would anyone want to read in a place like this. Now where did I put my," his claws patting his frame until he found the rough shape of what he was looking for, "Ah here they are." Reaching in he pulls forth a cracked pair of reading glasses, one of the leans missing entirely.
"Lets see, he who ventures forth hear this, the Lord of all that is unholy dwells within these halls. Should you be foolish enough to disturb his slumber may you meet a fate worse than death. Turn back if you value your life, no riches can be found here, only ruin." He takes a moment to reflect over what he just read.
"Buuuuuull shit, I call like I see 'em when they fibben. They ant no foul undead, by the gods if this story was true what's the point of burring the dead so near. That only give some unholy evil more power. My mama told better lies, should of heard the one she told me about sex, I didn't fuck for years after what she told me the lie about the white willow blisters." He shakes his fist at the air, "You ant fooling me." As he proceeds into the chamber.
It would be many years later when a stalwart adventure would enter the crypt again searching for riches. Clad in armor and battle axe in hand he cleave through the hordes of undead littering the halls, dodging traps and collecting what petty coins he could find.
Upon finding the fallen Knight, he'd remove the body, burning his ashes and scattering them later, returning him back to the land. When he came to the warning, he took it seriously, armed himself and entered the room. A great evil would awaken at the moment, raising a foul army of undead. Battle harden he would vanquish the foe, for he was the Hero of Legend, for he was the savior of this world, and only for he was the treasure of value within these halls. As it held the key to saving the world, that only the hero of legend could activate.
Once the elder evil was slain, the hero went to claim his prize. Opening the chest he was surprised to find a single piece of parchment. This must hold the secret to saving the world he thought. So he read the hastily scribbled parchment with great care.
Turns out no one wants this god forsaken treasure except some unknown hero who has yet to come. So that must be you fuck head, or some other idgit who had the same idea as me. To him I say, I beat you to it, you yellow colored prick. To the hero now, if you want your blasted hunk of junk, come find me I'll be in the Witches Tit, waiting for you. ----Branham
The adventure took a moment to scribble in his journal of quests.
Kill Branham