With the orange glow of the candelabra now leading the way, Max descended into the coolness into the cellar. He winced as the steps groaned with his weight, but he continued nonetheless. At least down here, any noise he made would be muffled by the cellar walls and the floorboards above.
As he got further down the stairs, the cellar air wrapped its clammy hands around him. It smelled of dirt and damp clay. Candlelight licked into the shadows of the room...
What they revealed quickened Max’s breath.
The cellar was a small space, several paces across with a low ceiling that nearly brushed the top of Max’s head. A closed wooden door was set into one of the walls, but that was the least exciting feature of the room. Along the walls was a row of waist-height tables. Atop each one?
Chests.
Five in total.
Max passed the candlelight over them. They were simple boxes, flat-topped, made of wood and burnished steel bindings. Still, they were chests! The outside appearance meant nothing; only its contents determined its worth. And anything worth keeping in a chest had to be valuable, right? Otherwise, what was even the point? It would be hard to imagine a chest filled with, say, bones or firewood. Max supposed it was possible, but he tried not to think of it.
His hands quickly found to the latch of the nearest one:
Locked.
Damn.
Well, no use getting frustrated over it. Max didn’t have any lockpicks, and even if he did, he’d never tried using one before. With zero skill, he’d probably just waste time breaking the picks one after another. There was a small possibility Alby had some skill, but Max doubted it. Lockpicking wasn’t all that useful in Brix, and the General Store didn’t sell any regardless. That would be Skole's influence, surely.
Max moved on to the next chest, which was also locked. Same with the chest after that. The fourth chest in the room didn’t budge either, which left only one more...
Max took the latch in his fingers, and—
Click.
Unlocked?! For what seemed like the hundredth time that night, Max found himself holding his breath. No way. There was a part of him that wanted that chest to stay closed, for what if it really did have nothing but dust and cobwebs? The disappointment would be almost too much to bear. Before he could psych himself out any further, Max swung open the lid.
What laid inside was beyond what he could've hoped for. Far beyond.
An array of treasure gleamed softly; coins, rings and amulets; gold chains, bracelets, and even a few gems! Rubies and emeralds, as well as a blue gemstone Max didn't know the name of. There was a dagger in a silver sheath, its handle inlaid with tiny sparkling jewels.
Max could hardly keep himself from shaking as he started scooping the loot into his bag. Though the chest wasn't even halfway full, not even close, it still took more than several handfuls to clean it out. He had considered only taking a few things at first, thinking it would perhaps escape Skole's notice... but really, what was the point? If he was risking everything already, might as well go all out.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Perhaps if he was less on edge, if he wasn't so desperate, Max would've paused and thought it strange to find so much treasure of this kind in one place. For example, why would the proprietor bother to keep all this wealth under his home in-game, where it was vulnerable? Why not exchange it for AlethiaCoins that could be kept securely in an account and actually be used in the real world? If Max stopped to think, it wouldn't have made any sense at all. Deep down, maybe he didn't want to consider where it could’ve came from, or why such an assortment was stashed away down here in Skole’s cellar. For someone from the Bottoms, this kind of opportunity came once in a lifetime, if that.
Was it too good to be true? Well, yes, but...
Did it really matter? Why question good fortune? It was exactly what he and Alby needed to find. Once they sold it all in Tiann City, Max would be able to pay for months of his mother’s cryo in advance and give himself some breathing room.
For once in his entire life, he’d have options.
Max opened up his inventory and dropped the lootbag full of stolen items inside. He didn’t want it to be jingling and clanging around when he and Alby were escaping from Brix for good. He reminded himself that the most dangerous part of the theft was still ahead: getting out of Brix unnoticed. Best to take every precaution. There was still a lot that could go wrong. Having gotten what he’d come for, Max turned to leave—
Until his curiosity quickly got the better of him. If these chests had all this loot...
Just what might be hiding behind that door in the cellar wall?
It had to be worth checking out, at least. Besides, just like most of the chests, the door was probably locked. If it was, no harm done. He'd forget about the whole thing, find Alby and they’d leave. Max tried the handle.
The door wasn’t locked.
In fact, when Max turned the cold metal handle, it swung open with ease, like it’d been waiting for someone to come. The hinges didn't even groan or creak. Light reached into the room, and what Max found there caused him to step back.
Skulls.
Not human skulls, but skulls of beasts and monsters, arranged neatly on several shelves pinned into the wall. Skulls with dagger-long fangs smiling evilly. Skulls with long, curved horns. Skulls with multiple eye-holes, of different sizes, in rows and columns. The flickering candlelight intensified all these hollow, jagged shapes, sending their ghastly shadows dancing on the walls.
It was a trophy room fit for an adventurer.
After the initial shock, Max tore his eyes away from the macabre keepsakes and saw what else the room contained: weapons, and a scant variety of armor. There were barrels with staffs and polearms, which all looked well-used. Nicer weapons, sheathed swords and intricately carved axes, rested on stands or hooks in the wall. The tables arranged inside had a mess of different things—an unorganized mismatch of small pieces of armor and knives.
There was no way one man such as Skole used all of these; from what Max understood about Starsword Online as a whole, most people tended to focus on just one or two weapon types. He'd heard of weaponsmasters, skilled with a variety of weapons, but it took years of work to max out even a single type. Those who survived long enough were usually old and very in-demand as trainers. Considering Skole's age and temperament Max really doubted he was one. So what was all this doing down here?
On the cellar steps behind him, Max heard footsteps. He didn’t bother turning around, so entranced was he by all the wicked shapes in front of him. “Alby,” he said, “you’ve got to see this.”
“Ah. I see you’ve found my trophies.”
Max whipped around at the deep, unmistakable voice—
There, at the bottom of the stairs stood Proprietor Skole. The man smiled, face shadowed, but Max could see there was little humor there. The darkness of the cellar and the flickering candlelight made Skole look downright demon-like.
“Now,” he said, “you’re trying to think of a way by me. You could try. I’d welcome it. Even if you managed it to get up these stairs without me breaking your neck... well. My wizard and guards are waiting right above us.”
It was true. Max couldn't help his eyes from darting to and fro, searching for any possibility of a getaway. There was none. The stairs were the only exit from this place, and Skole's great girth blocked all hope of escape.
When Max didn't move, Skole continued.
“Smart choice. Follow me upstairs and you can join your friend. He’s somewhat… indisposed at the moment. Then I’ll decide what’s to be done with the two of you.” He moved aside, motioning towards the stairs.
As Max gulped and willed himself forward, he couldn’t help feeling like the world had conspired against him. To be so close… only to have it ripped away at the last second. If fate had a sense of humor, surely Max was the butt of some twisted, cosmic joke.
The skulls behind him, frozen in eternal, maniacal laughter, seemed to agree.