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Soul Masker [Progression Fantasy]
Chapter 9 - The Crypt of Belziah

Chapter 9 - The Crypt of Belziah

Friedrich and Marina rounded a corner and walked into a small clearing between the trees. Before them, embedded in the cliff face was an archway. It had etchings and scratchings all over it in an ancient language that neither of the young Mercians could decipher. Adorning two columns on either side of the archway were carved depictions of a knight fighting against all sorts of hideous beasts, from troglodytes to elementals.

“Fascinating,” said Friedrich.

“I wonder if that says Crypt of Belgraph.”

“Belziah,” said Friedrich. “I’m starting to wonder if you keep getting it wrong on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” smirked Marina, striding forward to the archway. “It’s magnificent though, isn’t it?”

“It’s mighty impressive,” said Friedrich, examining the archway more closely. “It would be a dream to receive such an honour in death, wouldn’t it?”

“Belziah is an odd name for a general, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t sound very Mercian.”

“No, it doesn’t. You know what it sounds like…”

“Yes,” said Friedrich. “It sounds elven.”

“That’s what I was going to say.”

“It sounds like the name of a dark elf.”

“Are dark elves allowed to serve in the Mercian military?” asked Marina, having known precious few elves throughout her life.

“I could only guess,” said Friedrich, looking into the dark of the entrance, where a staircase led deeper down. “To think that there are hundreds of tombs like this scattered throughout our kingdom, but so many are lost to the elements. The soil piled up around them, the overgrowth hiding their entrances, and sometimes, having simply crumbled because they’re too old to remain standing.”

Marina kept quiet, the realisation that she was about to go into a large tomb suddenly hitting her now that she was faced with it. As magnificent as the entrance was, the black below and what lurked in it was unsettling her. She did not know how to quash that feeling.

“Everything alright?” asked Friedrich, sensing something was off.

“Y-yes,” said Marina, her teeth chattering. “N-never b-better.”

“Good,” said Friedrich, “because even if you said something was wrong, we’d be going down anyway.”

Marina breathed in deeply. “In and out, nice and quick. Fill the sacks with treasure and away we go, back outside before sunset.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Friedrich, his hand grazing the top of his tunic to make sure his mask was still there.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go by yourself?” asked Marina. “I won’t be able to see as well as you down there when you’re in your fox form.”

“What happened to watching each other’s backs?”

“You’re right…you’re right. I can do this…I can do this.”

After Friedrich lit a torch, the two walked through the entrance and descended into the foreboding tomb, the stench of decay filling their nostrils. The pleasant weather outside was immediately replaced with a cold chill as they moved down the dark staircase and into a room where sunlight had not been permitted to reach.

The smell of rot grew more intense as Friedrich picked a direction. He and Marina walked softly, hoping that nothing would hear them coming, but it was a certainty that something would see their light; a necessary price to pay in order to see.

Friedrich held up a hand to stop Marina, then placed the hand to his ear. They both listened closely. There was a strange shuffling sound coming from somewhere up ahead. It was the sound of feet being dragged down the stone halls and, whoever the feet belonged to, they were getting close.

A sudden low, grim grunt escaped and, in a panic, Marina thrust her staff forward. A walking, rotten corpse had its stomach punctured by the blunt staff. It stopped moving and looked down at the wooden implement for a moment before looking up at Marina. It walked forwards with its arms outstretched, further impaling itself as Marina froze.

“No you don’t,” said Friedrich, bringing his sharp blade down upon the zombie and splattering a rather foul ooze against the wall, himself and Marina.

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The zombie fell to the ground and Marina exhaled the breath she’d been holding since she first heard the shuffling. She wrenched her staff free from the stomach of the corpse and tried to wipe the blood from it using the rags that remained of the zombie’s clothing.

“That was close,” she whispered.

“Disgusting,” said Friedrich, looking at the filthy remnants he had splattered over himself. “Thrust into the skull, don’t slash across it. A foolish error on my part.”

“We’re still alive,” said Marina, gratefully.

“Don’t be afraid to use your lightning magic.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

The two pressed on, now knowing what lay in store for them. They would be just fine if they happened upon the zombies one by one—and they did for a short while. Friedrich dispatched seven of the foul dwellers of the tomb, while Marina zapped three of them. She was quite proud of herself for not freezing when confronted and only took a couple of scratches and bruises along the way.

“Three of them!” she called out, while Friedrich leapt upon one of the zombies, impaling its head with a mighty thrust.

Marina followed suit and swung her staff, unleashing a bolt of lightning that didn’t quite land where she intended. It blew apart one of the zombie’s legs, but not before he had lunged for her. It grabbed onto her shoulders, opening its mouth to take a bite from her, but it suddenly found its skull crushed by a sturdy shield. Friedrich pulled the zombie off of Marina and shoved it into the third zombie, knocking both of them to the floor.

The young adventurer rushed over to the writhing undead, who was pinned down by the body of the one-legged zombie, and splattered its brains across the floor with a heavy stomp.

“Thank you,” said Marina, rushing over to Friedrich and throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” said Friedrich as she released him. “I think we’ll find something up ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but to see three of the zombies clustered together makes me think we’re getting close to something good.”

“You and your hunches,” muttered Marina.

“I’ll let you complain freely if I’m wrong.”

The two took a second to catch their breaths before moving ahead. They were exhausted, even after such a short time, but the longer they lingered, the more tired they would grow. There was something about the stifling heat and the darkness that drained them that much more than anything on the surface.

The pair roamed the halls, putting a swift end to any further zombies they encountered, until they finally found something that piqued their interest. There was a large sarcophagus sitting within a room, surrounded by chamber pots, with a single chest sitting atop a pedestal before the sarcophagus. It was made of wood and carved with ornate depictions of battle. The wood was lined with black metal and a larger-than-necessary keyhole.

“I won’t complain again,” said Marina, moving into the room, but Friedrich grabbed her arm.

“Wait,” he said.

He gently pushed her aside and then swung his sword through the doorway, then stepped aside himself. Suddenly, a fireball burst from the far wall and shot through the door, soaring past Friedrich and Marina before striking the wall and fizzling out.

“H-how did you know?” Marina asked, looking petrified.

“A bad experience,” said Friedrich, tapping his iron pauldrons, the only metal armour he wore.

Friedrich swung his sword through the door again, but a second fireball did not follow. Content to take the risk of the magic recharging, he slinked into the room and up to the chest. Marina followed tepidly and observed as Friedrich examined the chest carefully before laying a hand on it.

“What are you looking for?” asked Marina.

“More traps,” said Friedrich, now examining the pedestal. “I don’t see anything else, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be something when we open the chest. When I found the mask, the chest was already wide open so I could freely load the best kupons into a sack and then move along.”

“How can you tell if there are traps?”

“Sometimes it’s as simple as a pressure plate or a tripwire, other times there will be a rune of some kind. The worst ones are the ones that detect motion, like the one in the doorway. They can be invisible so you have to learn them through trial and error. Thankfully, I learned my lesson good and early so I make it a habit to check rooms with treasure a bit more carefully than I do others.”

“Have you been watching out for traps this entire time?” asked Marina.

“Not the entire time,” said Friedrich, “but I’ve been keeping an eye out as we’ve entered rooms. Sometimes you can be so cautious that its slow and draining, so I’ve managed to find a happy medium.”

Marina walked up to the sarcophagus and looked at the stone figure carved into the top of it. It was of a woman, tall and slender, with sharp eyes, pointed ears and a harsh look upon her face.

“Friedrich,” she said.

“Yes?” asked Friedrich, walking over, satisfied that they could bring the chest with them.

“We were right, Belziah is an elf.”

“Good. Now I don’t need to feel any guilt in taking anything from here.”

“Do you think she’s buried with anything?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Marina looked around the sarcophagus, checking to see if there were any traps that she may set off. Friedrich watched on, glad that she was taking what he had told her on board. As a matter of caution, he examined the sarcophagus too, knowing that Marina wouldn’t be able to discern some of the signs of a trap.

“I’m happy enough,” he said to her. “How about you?”

“Let’s open it,” said Marina excitedly, but her face fell when she realised she would be seeing another dead body.

Friedrich placed his hands on the edge of the sarcophagus and pushed. It didn’t budge at first, but he dug his heels into the ground and drove himself forward. Slowly, the stone lid grinded against the walls and began to move. Marina placed her hands on it too and they pushed until the inside of the coffin was half-exposed.

“Agh!” cried Marina, seeing the skeletal remains of an elf, clad in ashen armour.

“More prizes for us,” said Friedrich excitedly, pointing at an amulet around Belziah’s neck. The flickering light from the torch, pierced the green stone and sent a pattern of dancing lights throughout the sarcophagus.

Wanting to get out of here as soon as possible, Marina snatched the amulet and tugged it away before Friedrich could stop her.

“No!” he called out, reaching for her arm, but it was too late.

The bricks beneath them gave way and they fell through the floor into the darkness beneath.