There was a good deal of money in looting the forgotten dead. But unlike the well-kept crypts of recently departed lords, this one hadn't seen a living person in a very long time.

The omnipresent dust acted like a monster applying suffocating pressure bit by bit. Made only worse by the decrepit dead, who wanted nothing more than for us to join their ranks.

Do you know what happens to crusty old skeletons once you put them to their final rest? More dust is, of course, the answer.

"Wait." A gloved hand shot into the air. It belonged to a young man taking point among the trio. Gabriel.

He was of average height and build. His otherwise sharp features were tested by large circles underneath his eyes. The unadorned steel-sword attached to his belt was one he hoped he wouldn't have to use.

His boots slid with measured steps across the once smooth stone slab. Coming to a sudden halt, he lifted the brown cloth covering his mouth, hunched down and blew away the age-old dust.

Moving his torch closer displayed the faded stone. Cracks and deformities covered it. What could be seen underneath would remind one of a clock. Once triggered, its large gears would start a count towards doom.

He turned his head, his sunken and tired eyes disinterested. "It's broken. Nothing I can do."

The largest of the 3 men snorted and spat on the ground. "How useless."

His thick muscles pressed against the dirty linen shirt underneath his chainmail. Adding in the 1,90m height, constant frown and sledgehammer-looking weapon most would see reason in avoiding him at night.

With a name like Gront, Gabriel suspected the man's parents of being oracles.

"The wall on the left is fake.". The young man said.

"Then what are you waiting for. Step on it."

Gabriel's eye twitched. "That's not the deal."

Gront snorted and walked forward, followed by the final member of the trio.

The dark leather armor and cloak made him blend well with darkness. If not for his hand holding a torch, seeing him at all would be difficult. The occasional flicker gave way to his sharp eyes. With a name like Dirk, it was only expected.

Gabriel had nicknamed him 'Idiot with daggers.' You would hard pressed to call someone who brings sharp weaponry to a crypt anything else. Bones lack the flesh necessary for a good stabbing. Luckily for him, they were weak enough to break with a hard swing.

"Outta the way." Gront pushed Gabriel to the side.

He obliged and stepped back.

As the bear-like man placed his foot on the stone tile, a low rumble shook the earth. The grating sound of stones scraping together rang out. Once the sound ended, a wall slid down.

Five skeletons stumbled their way out of the small hidden room.

The skeletons were as strong as one would assume of skin and bones without the skin. Not very.

Their ancient equipment consisted of more dust than metal. Their thin flailing arms would only pose a threat to an amateur.

Gront and Dirk were far from professionals, but they were more than hardy enough to take care of some wandering bones.

The fight swirled up a storm of dust. Swarming and clinging to anything closeby with tiny invisible hands.

The young man swore it would be the last time he did any graverobbing.

The trio had been going for some time already and was close to the final chamber. Pushing open the last door, Gabriel couldn't help but be disappointed.

While this was the crypt of a minor noble, he had expected more.

The torches lining the walls had given their last flicker ages ago. A single stone coffin laid within the room. It's decorations and artistry long devoured by time.

It was the perfect place for a big bad undead to appear.

Sadly, reality was lacking.

As the trio pushed the heavy lid off, a skeleton pried its hand out. A terrible crack reverberated through the room. Gront's hammer had shattered its skull.

'Dust to dust.'

After disposing of the skeleton in a corner, they focused on what they came for. The flames of their torches licked the flickering gold and jewels. It was a mesmerizing sight.

Gabriel couldn't understand the nobles tradition of burying with valuables. Even if the dead somehow ascended with it, he doubted mortal gold would be a currency in the afterlife.

It didn't matter. He had a job to do.

He focused his senses inwards.

'You awake?'

'What's up, pops?' The voice within his mind was not entirely unlike his own. It's main difference laid in the disgustingly suave tone.

'It's ready.'

'About damn time.' The glee in the voice would remind one of a child getting a new toy.

'I'll take care of the talking, you take care of the rest.' He said to the disembodied voice

He would start with Gront. While Dirk was an idiot, Gront seemed more volatile and easy to sway.

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Quietly clearing his throat, he let words flow in an imperceptible whisper. What he conversed with had no ears.

"Why should you have to share equally with these weaklings? One is an idiot who brought daggers to a damned crypt and, the other guy can't do shit other than play around with traps. They should feel lucky you've kept them alive for so long."

There's was a change. The almost imperceptible glow in Gront's eyes told Gabriel he succeeded. Brighter than any flame, yet remained unseen by most.

Gront's gruff voice broke the spellbound gaze of the dagger idiot. "Listen up. I'll be carrying the loot while we head back to town. I don't trust you two fucks to do anything properly."

A brief expression of confusion brushed past Dirk's face.

Gabriel grabbed the chance.

"What the hell? Is this big brute trying to take it all for himself? What makes him think he deserves this more than you. Someone who doesn't know his ass from his mouth wouldn't have survived two minutes in this place without your skills. If anything, you should have the bigger share of the pot."

Dirk shot a hard gaze in the direction of the big man "What? There's no problem divvying up right now.

"Unless you have something else planned."

Gront froze for a brief moment. He could feel the implications of the final line. Any missteps here and things could go bad. They weren't exactly lifelong friends after all.

"Who does this guy think he is? No matter how small the group, you're still the leader here. Spending your sweat and blood on keeping them alive. How dare he question your motives. But he's right. Why should you have to share at all with this idiot? Honestly, you would be seen as a saint for even giving them scraps."

The fire raging within Gront burnt its way through the frozen moment in an instant. "How fucking dare you. I've been working my ass tirelessly to make sure you guys stay alive. And now you're accusing me of being a thief and a liar? You're lucky I haven't smashed your skull in."

Gabriel couldn't hide his surprise. Gront was a lot more emotional than he expected. 'Smash your skull in' was it. That ought to raise the stakes.

The torch illuminating Dirk's face gave away his uncertainty. He must be envisioning getting his head caved in by a hammer. But fear couldn't hide it. The embers of the flame which consumes all. Gabriel would help him set it ablaze.

"Leader? What a joke. What kind of leader lets their mage die to a simple trap? He seemed so eager to check Muloc's body after the fall. There's no way Muloc was as poor as he claimed him to be. He probably took it all himself. It might even have been his fault. Who's to say he didn't plan to kill you slowly along the way. Getting his grubby fingers on not only the treasures but your possessions as well. The gods know how many times he's done this before. He might be carrying a small fortune right now. Imagine what you could do with that kind of money ontop of the treasure."

A mad sneer overtook Dirk's fleeting expression of fear. "Are you truly as stupid as you look, or are you just pretending? What 'working my ass tirelessly to make sure you guys stay alive'. I would like to hear what Muloc has to say about that."

The name sent a shock through the large man, but that shock was soon turned into anger. "Watch your fucking mouth. How the fuck would I have been able to stop that suicidal maniac. Diving straight into a trap like that. Him surviving for as long as he did is already a miracle."

"That still doesn't explain his lack of wealth"

Dirk stared at the big man with an incredulous look. "What about the money?"

"What money? The guy was the poorest fucking sod around. If you used that tiny little thing in your head, you'd remember we already shared what he had."

"Lies. There's no way a mage could have been that poor. He's hiding it." Gabriel pushed a little more.

"Bullshit! Do you take me for an idiot? Let's see if you dare empty out your pockets." The dagger idiot stayed true to his name and gripped his weapons tight. A dog would only be threatening if you knew it had the bite to go along with the bark.

Gabriel refocused his attention on Gront. "If you empty out your pockets, he plans on using whatever's in there as an excuse to rob you blind. He might even take your life."

Gront grit his teeth and slammed his hammer into the ground. "Are you fucking crazy. How about you empty out your pockets. You've been acting like a sneaky fuck this whole time. Who knows what kind of goodies you've stashed away while I wasn't looking"

Gabriel gave Dirk a final push. "He's scared. He knows that you're onto him. If he keeps denying you what's yours, there's only one thing left to do..."

As the Dirk hurled himself toward Gront, Gabriel knew that his work was done.

A low guttural sound built into a ferocious laugh. 'You really are the best, pops. I will never get tired of this feeling. It's too intoxicating.'

What a disgusting guy. He was probably getting his rockers off at this. Still, getting complimented on a job well done felt good.

'Stop calling me 'pops'. I'm not your father.'

'What are you talking about, pops. You made us.'

'I did not.'

'What's that, pops? You trying to avoid responsibilities by calling us unwanted? You're breaking my heart here.'

'Whatever. Your work is done, so go do whatever you're doing when you're not being annoying.'

'Until next time, pops.'

'Wait. Before that, are we getting closer?'

'Oh, what's this? You do love us after all, pops!'

'Just answer the question.'

'Hmm. Shouldn't be long now.'

'Who will it be?'

'Not. Telling.' A low cackle rang through his mind as the voice faded away

What an annoying guy.

During the short conversation, the fight had come to an end.

Gabriel was betting on Dirk's victory but was mistaken. Can't be a winner with your brains all over the wall after all.

That would save him some trouble.

Gront wasn't able to escape unscathed. Fleshy wounds deep enough to show bone displayed themselves gruesomely. But for someone with Gront's heavy physique, it wouldn't be fatal.

Gabriel only wished they hadn't ended their fight in front of the exit.

"What the fuck are you smiling about," Gront said while panting.

Surprise took Gabriel as he brushed his fingers across his lips. The cloth had fallen.

Gabriel subdued his smile into a smirk. "My apologies. My head was elsewhere. I was thinking of laying some fine women and drinking expensive wine after this.

"Fuck you. You're not going anywhe-" Gront said through wheezing breaths. He couldn't stop himself from coughing up a bloody mist.

Wiping away the blood covering his lips, he said "You're going to die right here, you fucking bastard. Then all this will be mine. All of it! Mine!"

"I'll tell you a secret." Unknown when, Gabriel's grin had returned.

"Secret? The fuck are you on about." Gront answered in a huff.

He pointed at the bloody meat paste on the wall. "He poisoned his daggers."

"T-that cheating fuck." The large man couldn't hide the horror beneath his angry expression. "Wait. How do you know that?"

"Because he got it from me." The young man said matter of factly. "But don't despair, good fellow. For lady luck smiles upon you this day. I am well prepared if nothing else, and have the antidote right here."

A small vial of yellow liquid appeared between his fingers.

To most, it would seem like he pulled it from of his pocket. But it was, in fact, another interesting ability of... 'his child'. A dimensional storage of sorts. Only he, or should he say they, could add or remove objects from this storage.

Seeing his salvation so near pushed Gront forward, like a desperate dog in heat. "G-give it to me."

As he drew near, the young man held his ground. "I will. But you need to promise you'll let me leave."

"Yes! I'll let you go, just give me the fucking antidote."

"I'll hold you to that." The young man said as he moved closer.

Woosh!

Gaining strength from nowhere, the man rose from the floor. His hammer moved at great speeds and would have sent Gabriel's insides across the floor. During Gabriel's evasive maneuvers, he let go of the vial and Gront caught it in midair.

Gront released a snicker. "You fucking idiot. You think you can just leave after this? No, your life along with everything else belongs to me!"

He popped the cork of the vial and swallowed the yellow liquid down in a single gulp.

Only seconds passed before his cheeks regained a rosy tint. A smile rose to his lips.

Gront's movement was sudden. His heavy steps smacked against the ground as he ran towards the Gabriel.

One step,

Two steps.

In a short moment, he had covered over half the distance.

And that's where Gront's story came to an end. His legs stiffened as his unmoving body threw itself at the ground.

Gabriel stepped forwards. He shook his head and said. "Feigned weakness becomes real when someone knows."

He released a sigh. It was unpleasant.

Such a pity. It was a tragic sight watching someone take their own life.