Erika stared at her dilapidated brown leather tent for a moment, it was held by strings instead of pegs which she’d read delvers used for tents but it was hard to drive a peg into stone… regardless it was put up properly this time! Well, she’d been sure the last three times as well but now it hadn't fallen over a full ten beats after she let go of the strings so Erika decided that could only mean this was a glorious victory… and she should leave quickly before she saw something that would upset her. Padding away from her tent on slippered feet Erika went to check on her friends…. It wasn't presumptuous to call them that right? They were friends by now surely, she’d saved their lives after all.
Walking through a dead bank was a surreal experience, Erika never been in a bank before, even in the silver kingdom only the capitol and a few of the bigger cities had them. Maybe a few boom-towns out on the fringe that sprung up when the digging crews that lay the rails of the Bal-Vegr struck a seam of gold or something. She’d heard of them though, places of opulence and order, you could still see that here as well, just distorted by… weeks? Months?... of abandonment and isolation, a faint layer of dust on the desks, a chair moved left by a hand and a half, abandoned papers and withered plants. It wasn't spooky per say but it did feel weird, too big and the echoes lingered for too long.
The expeditionaries had ended up setting up their camp in the banks vault, Sigurn had insisted on it, it seemed she was expecting (maybe even looking forward) to an attack tonight, Alvis didn’t seem to agree but didn’t see the harm in being defensive.
As a result, dozens of tents had been unloaded from the huge backpacks the Silvermane agents carried and slung across the vault itself, rows of lockboxes in the walls had been broken open and used to moor the ends of strings and leather strips, after they were first looted of course.
Erika grinned to herself and patted one of the secret(ish) pockets in her cloak of office, which jingled pleasingly. She’d traded all the big stuff for cheap to Skarda, who hadn't believed his luck. Erika however hadn't believed hers; the idiot took nearly half value for stuff he’d need to drag across nearly a thousand Stade without breaking it or leaving it behind. Now Erika had a pocket full of traded loot (and actually looted loot) gold rings, a few actual jewels, nearly a handsbreadth of hacksilver and a few weights of silk she’d found in a merchant’s floor safe. Her cloak was heavier now she admitted but it was heavy with promise and money, primarily money, all told it was worth a few pennygar… she might actually make a profit from this even after repaying mother.
There was very little in the vaults though Erika had noticed, barely anything, no stacks of silver and gold or piles of jewels like she’d been told. The wall boxes had held what treasures the residents had owned but the actual vault had been empty, now that she thought about it Erika found herself wondering how much of the neglect of the building was from before the people disappeared, it didn’t seem they were doing well.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Climbing down the last few steps Erika stumbled out into the light, blinking as her eyes adjusted, the bank was one of only a half dozen stone buildings on the citybeasts back, the others with their bone frames and leather walls seemed so fragile next to it. Thick marble blocks formed towering walls and columns that grew almost organically into a dome that rose above the city at the top of which was the vault protruding upwards like a horn. It honestly made sense now Erika thought about it, if people can see it, you can’t steal from it and it’s not like the citybeast can have a basement carved into its shell.
“That’s blasphemy AND bad luck!”
Erika looked up as the shout rang out through the bank’s foyer. Turning around Erika saw Helga was haranguing Skarda and Skard, the brothers had refused to leave with only Erika’s traded loot, they’d arrived last after retrieving all the other little teams and the bank had been nearly fully looted by then, so rather than do the sensible thing of barter and gamble, or just accepting their losses, they’d gone of the only valuable nobody else had been willing to touch.
“So, you and everyone else has said Helga but it’s not like Odin ’ll notice it and I’ve got debts to pay.” Said Skarda where he hangs, bound by rope and chisel in hand, from the shoulders of a statue of Odin all-father, the great-clearing nomads were apparently on of the cultures that refused to take down the statues and shrines of the gods that died in Ragnarök and Skarda wasn't, that’s why he and his brother were currently working the huge sapphire that filled in for Odin’s singular eye out of the statues face.
Helga turned to Erika, her scowl quickly morphing into a smile. “Oh Erika, are you finished?”
Erika smiled back and nodded. “Yup, got my tent up and finished looting… Skarda still going?”
Helga frowned. “Yes, he is… it’s a statue of a god! Can’t you tell him to knock it off? He’d listen to a vitki right?”
Erika shrugged. “No.”
Helga raised an eyebrow. “…Why not?”
Erika shrugged a second time. “If I tell him not to, he might ask for some of my treasure in exchange, it’s my treasure.”
Helga seemed taken aback. “But… but he might get cursed!”
Erika nodded happily. “Yup… but that sounds like a him problem, doesn’t it?”
Helga looked at Erika oddly, Erika wasn't sure what the expression was but she didn’t stop to understand it and instead walked up to the statue.
“You guys done yet?”
Skard looked around jerkily at Erika then up at his brother. “Not yet… should we be doing this Shard…I don’t know… I mean… what if he curses us!”
“He’s dead, now shut up and pass me that chisel.” Snapped Skarda grunting slightly half way through as he kept yanking on the deeply embedded gem with a pair of pliers.
“You do realise you are stealing a relic of a god, right? The all-seeing one, even if he’s dead wont his kids or grandkids be angry?” asked Helga who seemed to have overcome whatever happened, Erika still wasn't sure. “You aren’t even slightly worried?”
“I told you this was a bad idea!” Whined Skard, Skarda threw a lump of stone at him and turned to look at Helga. “No, I am not Helga, I don’t care, the Gothi don’t care, the vitki doesn’t care, its just a jewel in the statue of a dead guy.”
“Told you.” Shrugged Erika turning around and stalked away to join the much more active portions of the expedition.