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TOMB

Discussion in 'Skyrim Fan Fiction' started by TommyTequila, Jan 31, 2017.

  1. TommyTequila

    TommyTequila Member

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    -The Tomb-​
    The tomb smelled of dust and formaldehyde, but the air felt cool and damp. The grand chamber of the underground labyrinth was massive, and dimly lit by several torches, which cast more shadows than light as it seemed. With his back to an unlidded and defiled sarcophagus, and ten foot platforms on either side of him, Casamir found himself cornered. Three other graverobbers had gotten the drop on him just as he was collecting his prize.

    The sword he had been sent into the tomb to collect was ancient, no longer forged by modern smiths, and highly sought after by collectors and duelist alike. The curved, broad, and surprisingly light sword was strapped safely to his back. Traversing the booby trapped tomb and caved in passages made the payment he was promised, which was no pittance, seem almost inadequate. However, at the insistence of his assailants, and additionally persuaded by the gruesome and incredibly specific fate they promised him should he refuse, Cass was seriously considering parting with it.

    The man in the middle of the three, who were spread out enough so as to prevent any ideas of escape, seemed to be the leader. Steel pauldrons on his broad shoulders supported a likewise broad face, with eyes narrowed and focused, not leaving their target. He would be intimidating without the massive sword that it took both of his hands to hold. To his right a lithe man with greasy black hair and a mousy face failed in his attempt to look intimidating, as the way he held his cheap short sword betrayed him as an amateur. The other man was smiling broadly, revealing a crooked set of yellowing teeth. Judging by the way he moved, Cass wouldn't have been surprised if a forked tongue snaked its way from between his teeth.

    All in all, Cass wasn't thrilled at the prospect of fighting three men, but not entirely willing to part with his prize yet either. His only chance was to outrun them in the catacombs, using the traps he had seen on his way in to his advantage. The walls and platforms that surrounded them were built by yellowish clay brick, and one brick in particular stood out to him.

    On the wall of the platform to his left, about a third of the way up, one brick jutted out a couple inches more than the rest. He knew he could make the jump, but doubted his new friends could in their heavier armor. Throwing caution to the wind, he sprinted to his left. The younger of his attackers closest to that wall hesitated, just a moment. The mousy mercenary gave Cass just enough time to launch himself off of the brick, and pull himself onto the platform, as he heard a sword clang uselessly off off the stones where his feet dangled moments earlier. His pursuers ran for the stairs that led up to Casamir's level. Two stayed near the base of the stairs to head off any escape, while their leader was currently taking two steps at a time to meet him head on. Smarter than I thought Cass mused to himself. I'll have to switch up my tactics.

    He pulled his own longsword, still in its sheath, from his belt. Running for the edge of the platform, he pulled his sword out of its sheath so only 10 inches of gleaming steel showed. Gripping his sword tightly by the sheath and handle, he flung himself shouting off of the platform toward the two assailants below him, aiming his blade at the head of the closest one to him. Using the force of his fall and momentum, he drove the sword through the man's shoulder near his neck. He felt and heard a crack crack crack! as his sword broke through the snake-man's clavicle and several of his ribs. The mouse-man screamed and leveled a swing directly at Cass's head. Letting go of his own sword (which was now wedged quite stubbornly inside the snake-mans chest), Casamir ducked under his assailants blow and leveled a strong straight punch directly at his abdomen. Before his fist connected, he turned his skin and muscle the consistency of stone. The blow landed with a painful thud as its recipient doubled over with a forceful exhalation. Cass quickly grabbed the mouse-man's sword, prying it easily from the winded mans fingers, just in time to parry a swing from the groups leader. Steel met with a deafening clang, clang as Cass deflected two blows.

    The two squared off. The mouse-man remained standing weakly near Cass, still unable to breathe. The smile had faded from snake-man's face, and he was currently staring confusedly at the sword wedged inside of him, grasping uselessly at the its blade in a futile attempt to dislodge it. Cass drove the hilt of his sword into the mouse-man's temple, dropping him limply to the ground like a sack of potatoes. A one on one fight seemed a bit more fair.

    The two circled each other in the center of the chamber. Cass held his sword in a reverse grip, and stared unblinkingly at his attacker. He nodded towards the leader's fallen companions.

    "That wasn't a stroke of luck. You're down two men. This prize isn't worth you're life. Cut your losses and go home."

    His adversary held his sword tightly in both hands and stared back, also unblinking. He seemed unmoved by the suggestion.

    "I am two men down. You incapacitated them first because you singled me out as the strongest. You weren't wrong. The one you killed was a mercenary, he means nothing to me. Hand over the sword, and I will have no reason to kill you."

    Cass could tell the man wasn't bluffing. From the way he held his sword and the scars visible on the small amounts of skin his armor left uncovered, he pegged the merc as an ex-soldier. Not liking his odds as much as he had previously, he decided to revert to his previous plan. His adversary still purposefully stood between himself and the exit. Cass seriously considered handing over the sword, but something the graverobber said stood out to him. He began sidestepping towards the two fallen men, and let his demeanor soften.

    "I didn't catch your name."

    "Griff. And you aren't talking your way out of this."

    "I don't expect to. And I'm glad I didn't kill the one that did mean something to you..." He glanced at the unconscious man, closer to himself than to his opponent.

    Griff seemed visibly uncomfortable, and began moving with more purpose toward Cass. This brought a smile to his lips.

    "Did you two enlist together? Is he your..."

    "Brother." The quiet yet assertive interruption was followed immediately by the pounding of boots on brick as the hulking wall of muscle came barreling at Casamir at full speed. Cass juked toward the mouse boy, and spun the opposite direction at the last second, narrowly dodging a vertical blow that could have cleaved him in half. Griff shifted his weight, quickly leveling a horizontal swing at Cass's chest. Cass, who was still in motion and had expected a follow up swing, slid on one knee beneath the sword. The dust and dirt on the floor of the chamber allowed him to carry his slide a few feet before popping back on to his feet and sprinting toward the exit. Griff was only a few steps behind him, moving surprisingly fast for someone so large.

    The corridor he ran into was wide enough to accommodate four men standing shoulder to shoulder, but narrowed in certain places due to cave ins and places where the earth had shifted over centuries. It was dimly illuminated by torches Cass had lit on his way in. It had taken him the better part of two days to navigate the tomb safely. Cass struggled to remember the traps he had past on his way in in reverse order.

    Tripwire past the empty coffin.

    He tried to avoid it without drawing attention to it, but he must have telegraphed his movements too much because his pursuer dodged it as well. Still, Cass was gaining more ground by the second against his slower adversary.

    False floor. The safe tiles are middle, left, left, right, left.

    He lept onto the first tile, second, third... Crash. His foot triggered the trap floor. Every trap tile fell away simultaneously beneath his feet. The drop sucked all the breath out of him, but his hand shot out and grabbed a safe tile before he fell. The trap tiles made a clattering crashing sound as the hit the floor.

    plops he cursed to himself, dangling by one hand 20 feet above a pit of rusted spikes. Im going the opposite way. Its left, right, left, left.

    Using both hands he was able to pull himself up enough to get a foot on the small tile, and throw himself toward the ledge of the pit. His chest hit the ledge hard, but he was able to claw his way to safety. Any ground he had gained was lost as Griff jumped easily between the only remaining tiles. With barely any distance between them, and Cass still winded from his nearly deadly mistake, he was running for his life. Griff closed the gap in almost no time at all, and he was in swinging distance

    Just a little further

    He heard Griff grunt from the effort of bringing his sword back while running

    Almost...

    His foot depressed the tile as he saw the tip off the sword coming towards him in his peripheral vision. A massive log suspended by two ropes swung down with bone crushing momentum and landed right between Griff's shoulder blades. The force threw him forward, slamming him into the back of Casamir and sending them both crashing into the ground. Their landing kicked up a cloud of dust and they slid several feet before coming to a stop. Cass threw up his arms over his face and hardened them to a more protective consistency, but the blow he was expecting never came. Expecting the silence of the tomb, or dying screams, he instead heard only rapid, panicked breathing.

    "I can't feel anything"

    He peeked over his hands, and into the face of panic and fear.

    "I can't move anything."

    Although his eyes and head moved, they stared in horror down at a limp body. As realization of what had happened sunk in, he saw tears pooling in Griff's eyes.

    "My brother. He's all alone."

    Casamir stood up. He looked toward the exit, and back at the man at his feet. His guard remained up momentarily, but his caution quickly faded. This wasn't a bluff. You couldn't fake this kind of fear. His heart still racing, he turned toward the exit. He took a few steps down the corridor, then stopped.

    "Please, dont leave me like this. Just finish it."

    This was wrong. Griff was just doing a job, same as him. Pinching his nose between his eyes and groaning, Cass walked back to the fallen soldier and took a knee.

    "Hold still, let me take a look." He stripped the armor of Griff's back. He felt the spine where it was injured. Three vertebrae were fractured, along with the left scapula. He was probably lucky that he couldn't feel anything. Cass's hand glowed yellow and he closed his eyes as he felt inside the injury. There was no internal bleeding, but the spinal column was damaged.

    "If I can fix this, will you attack me?"

    Griff looked surprised. "Wha-, can you?"

    "I doubt it. But I'm going to try."

    "Then no, of course not."

    Cass closed his eyes again and the glow from his hand changed it's hue to a soft blue. The middle vertebrae was shattered to the point that the pieces no longer even remotely resembled what the once were. Taking a deep breath, he willed them back into place as he exhaled. He felt them moving, slowly. The body always yearned to be made whole again. All he did was help it along. The peices grossly resembled a vertebrae again, but Cass could do no more.

    The other two were deformed and cracked, but mostly intact. Inhaling again, he exhaled as he willed them back into position. The spinal column was damaged where the middle vertebrae had shattered, but he was at least able to move it to a healthier position. The muscles around the injury had tensed, contracting to protect the site of the injury where the bone no longer could. The body has its own kind of magic for healing.

    "Can you feel anything?"

    Griff looked down, defeated. "No. Just finish me off. Leave me here in this tomb. I would rather that than live as a burden. Let me die a warriors death."

    Cass pinched between his eyes again and groaned. He grabbed his former adversary and propped him against the wall. Slouching against the wall opposite him, he said "Perishing in a squabble over an old sword isn't a warriors death. I can't fix it but a better healer might." As he spoke he removed a bag of tobacco and a square of paper from his belt. He pinched a ledge into the paper and started loading it with tobacco. "Don't let your honor get in the way." He motioned toward a skeleton hanging half out of his broken coffin on the floor. "Do you think he gives a plops about honor still? You have a chance to see tomorrow, see your brother again." He finished rolling his cigarette and stuck it behind his ear.

    Griff didn't make eye contact. He had calmed down noticeably, but he couldn't hide his depression. Casamir wished he could've left, or heeded the mans final wish, but he felt he never had a choice. It made no sense to choose death over life. fluffing Nords.

    You killed someone not ten minutes ago, you think the man you nearly cut in half survived? The voice in his head shouted. Just kill this merc and leave. Your wasting your time.

    This is different somehow. It wasn't necessarily a moral conflict, but not spending a half hour of work to give this near stranger many more years was illogical, and a life was more worthwhile than this stupid trinket.

    "Like it or not, I'm taking you back to your brother for him to decide."

    Cass didn't wait for a response before standing up, casting a spell over the man, and dragging him by his collar back the way they came.

    The spell made the man much lighter, but it was still longer than he remembered getting back. There was a second corridor that ran parallel to the caved in trap floor, probably built to avoid this same problem. The whole trek back was accompanied by Griff's moans, sighs, and pleas for death. Cass rolled his eyes and didn't respond.

    Back at the main chamber, He propped him up against a pillar. His brother still lay unconscious but alive. The snake man wasn't so lucky. All the color had left his skin, and he sat collapsed on his knees, hunched forward onto the sword still lodged in his chest. Blood still trickled out of his mouth into the ever increasing pool of blood he knelt in.

    Cass dragged the mouse-boy away from the corpse and layed him next to his brother. Holding his hand to the boys bruised head, he told Griff there was no bleeding and that he would wake up soon. Cass dragged a cheap unused wooden coffin from one corner of the chamber and sat on the floor leaning against it across from Griff.

    Casamir grabbed the cigarette from behind his ear. "How did you get in here anyway? I know you didn't come in the same way as me."

    Griff seemed to be less distraught, and more sociable. He no longer avoided eye contact but spoke slowly. "We are just underneath a homestead. The owner was digging a well and punched through into part of this tomb. We tied a rope off and came down. Its just down that corridor." He nodded to the best of his ability toward the other side of the chamber.Casamir lit his cigarette with a flash of flame from his fingers. "Our employer was confident that the relic was close to where the well and tomb met.”

    “I wish I’d gotten the same tip,” Casamirsaid. He took a drag and exhaled the smoke away from Griff. He motioned towards the snake man’s corpse. “Why the extra muscle?”

    “Our employer warned us there could be competition”

    “Your employer was apparently more informed than my own.”

    Casamir was curious as to who Griff’s employer was, but was too tired to care. He just wanted to get rid of this stupid sword, get paid, and go home. This job was already more trouble than it was worth and he still had the trek back. He offered his cigarette to Griff, who accepted with an attempt at a shrug. He held it for him while he took a drag, then put it out on the coffin.

    He motioned towards the Exit,”when he wakes up your brother can get help or try to drag you out himself the long way.” Reaching into a pocket, he removed a thin vial filled halfway withorange liquid and placed it on the coffin. “Drink this before he tries to move you.”

    He dislodged his sword from the snake man, putting his foot to his chest and yanking it out with a wet sounding Smack. As he walked toward the tunnel toward the homestead, he called back “Good luck, hope I never see you again.”

    “fluff you” was the only response he got.

    Casamir shook his head. No good deed goes unpunished.

    -Afterword-
    Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I am a new writer open to criticism (or praise) so please leave a comment of what you thought. I am currently busy with other work, but if there is enough interest for me to continue this I will make it a priority. I do have a good idea of where this one will go though, and i promise more fast-paced action.

    Thank you for reading!

    Tommy T
     
  2. TommyTequila

    TommyTequila Member

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  3. TommyTequila

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  4. TommyTequila

    TommyTequila Member

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    TommyTequila Member

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