FSE

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Behooved

Part 1

By Kybal_Lutra & SystemDrake

Snapping through the air, a whip cracked off the flank of a tired old horse. The poor mare let out a bit of a pained grunt in protest, but the painful snap was successful in getting her to quicken her pace. At least for a moment, the hoofbeats came at a quicker rhythm. Clopping along, it sounded almost like the prancing of a younger steed. Predictably though, the horse began to slack, gradually falling back down to her usual weary pace.

Behind the slow trudging horse, an old creaky cart rattled along. The shaft weighed hard on the exhausted beast, sagging in the straps. The mare tugged and yarded, forcing her shoulders into the yoke to keep the carriage rolling. The worn wheels trundled over grass grown ruts.

It was a lonely old road woven through thick forest. Hardly a hint of it remained in places for all the heavy overgrowth. Branches and bushes scraped at the cart and scratched at the old mare. The route had laid abandoned for some time, and it hardly looked like it had been heavily used even before.

Even in its prime, it was hardly a good road. The grass had grown over well worn ruts and deep pitted holes, solidifying them for the ages. It was the worst of both, interminably rough and unyieldingly solid. As the cart wavered side to side, wagon wheels ran up and down heavily scoured divots. It wore and tugged on the rims, making the pull ever harder than it should've been.

The poor old horse grunted and wheezed. Her hooves scrambled and scraped over the rough uneven footing. The yoke dug into her shoulders to give the cart enough grip to overcome the load of the heavy old cart.

The driver was both frustrated and unsympathetic. He grumbled and huffed at the slow progress of the poor struggling horse. Ducking a low branch, he flicked it away with a hand. It was perhaps the only thing that spared the mare another angry snap of his whip.

A mountain of a man, he was hardly the type one would fix as a driver. Broad shoulders, deep chest, and thick muscled arms spoke of hard and heavy training. He wore a heavy suit of gleaming polished armour rather than a more usual heavy traveling coat. The suit of plate rattled as he swayed in the seat with the rock of the carriage. The seat of the old cart groaned and creaked under his armoured weight.

With chiseled features and clear keen eyes, he was a handsome man. It complimented his sturdy build. He held his fetching profile up, confidently high. But his brow was furrowed and he wore a frustrated sneer. Sighing and gritting his teeth, he leaned on one arm. His relaxed pose didn't satisfy him for long though. Continuing to glare over the shoulders of the poor trudging horse only increased his impatience.

Shelton was a swordsman, not a horseman. He didn't have the patience for this shit.

He glanced back to the cart, speaking over his shoulder. "It will be winter before we get there at this pace! You know, if you bothered to buy a halfway decent horse, you could move faster than a slow walk. You cheap bastard," he complained.

The cart's passenger was in the back, sat cross legged and rattling around with the contents. Well packed bundles of trip supplies were stacked amongst little lockboxes and barrels of valuable goods. They all clattered around the jerking carriage.

"She'll get us there in one piece at least, you impatient brute," came a reply from inside the cart. The voice was slightly higher in pitch than the larger man up front, but seemed to strain a bit, as if the man inside was also annoyed at something else. All around him, ancient scraps of parchment, fragile unrolled maps, hastily jotted notes, and thick tomes were scattered about.

"Just follow the trail and stop complaining," the man finished with a huff and a shuffle of parchment in his hands.

"Well, you didn't hire me to mind your old horse," the fighter complained. "Why aren't you up here?"

With an exasperated sigh, the other man replied, "I'm reading the bloody maps! Got to figure out exactly where it is we're supposed to find this... artefact."

"And we're getting paid for this one?" the reluctant driver asked skeptically.

The larger man could practically hear the other roll his eyes, "Yes, yes. I've been promised quite an impressive sum for this pretty thing. Though from what I was told, we won't be able to see it or even touch it. Only the box it's kept in." He shuffled his maps a bit and hummed to himself as he continued, "Either way, we should both make out very, very well if all goes accordingly."

"Promised..." the man muttered with a grumble. He'd been working with Peyton long enough to know promises seemed to seldom pan out.

The would be knight looked back to the horse with a mean glare. He took up the slack on his whip and got it ready. Another stinging kiss of the whip failed to get the mare to hasten at all. The horse's lack of reaction only made the man sneer angrily. He gave the mare another crack across the flank.

"And how would you like it if someone snapped a whip at your backside? Hm?" said the other man sharply. He glared angrily at the knight before sighing and continuing as he glanced at his maps, "The old girl is working as fast as she can. Let her do it in peace for a while. No need for such force, Shelton."

"I could pull this cart faster," Shelton snapped. "She wouldn't be here struggling with this load if you coughed up the coin and bought a real horse." He glanced back and flashed the man a teasing grin. "Or are you broke after doing all that work for free?"

Peyton shook his head and chuckled, "That free work got us this job, you overgrown boulder. We wouldn't be here if I hadn't taken the initiative and worked for this."

"So you take work as payment for doing work," the fighter laughed to himself. "I guess that's why I'm not a merchant. 'Cause that sounds like pretty dumb shit to me."

"Mm, well this 'pretty dumb shit' is about to get you paid more than our last ten jobs combined." Peyton said with a rueful grin, "So let's see you complain when your coffers are overflowing with coin."

"Oh yes, sorry. You get paid in more work and promises," he grumbled. "Forgive me if I don't believe it until I have the coin in hand."

"You never believe me until you have coin in hand, which you end up spending at the nearest tavern you can find. Then I watch you return to my humble cart, begging me for another job as soon as the sun rises. Again. And again. And again," the merchant said with a smirk, still looking down at his maps.

Shelton rolled his eyes silently. He turned back to their path, keen gaze scouring the thick brush and overgrown road. "You find this place yet?" he asked over his shoulder.

"We're close, I know that much," Peyton said with a slight frown as he traced his finger along one of the winding trails marked on the parchment. "Hm... it's got to be nearby."

"It looks like a little stone crypt overgrown with ivy?" he asked, looking back to the cart.

The merchant nodded, "Yes, and there are supposedly some sort of ancient markings carved into the rocks that surround the entrance. Shouldn't be too difficult to find."

Shelton threw a copper coin back at the merchant with his head down in the papers. The change rang off Peyton's forehead.

"Then I'm better at your job than you are," the knight teased.

"What the blo--"

Peyton looked up to find his ornery partner pointing to their target. A small stone structure sat upon an approaching hillside. Neglected, forgotten, and forlorn, the little old building had almost been entirely reclaimed by nature. Strangling vines grew up the walls, slowly trying to crush the slabs to rubble.

"Look up from your scribbles once in awhile why not?" he asked.

Glancing out of the front of the canopy, Peyton's eyes widened as he took in the sight matching the description he'd been given. Almost immediately he grinned and began to fold up his map hurriedly.

"I knew there was a reason I brought you along, Shelton." he said.

"Aside from driving your horse, and fixing your damn cart, and saving you from wolves," the guard rattled off.

"That was one time! Once! Everyone has bad luck with wolves at some time or another and you know it!" Peyton stashed his map in the pouch of his rucksack and clambered out of the front of the cart, making sure to elbow his driver in the back of the head 'by accident' as he lowered himself onto the ground.

Shelton snapped an angry glare after his employer. Frowning, he swung his leg down from the cart's driver seat. He hopped down, steel boots sinking into the sod. "Yeh, and you would have done a great job fighting it off with your oh so precious stock of books."

Passing, he shoved aside the stocky merchant. With longer strides, he quickly outpaced the shorter merchant on the way up the hill, even in his heavy armour. The suit of solid plate rattled and clanked.

He hiked up the little hillside, coming to the foot of the little mausoleum. It certainly was carved with strange old runes. Shelton eyed it suspiciously. He wasn't a superstitious man, but it usually paid to be careful.

"Anything I should know?" he asked back at the merchant, still scrambling his way up the hill.

Shelton stepped towards the little stone building, squaring up with the large stone slab sealing the entrance.

Peyton shrugged. "Well, there's really not much to it. Open the door, climb down into the main chamber, undo the locking mechanism, and then grab the artefact. Think you can handle all that? I know how easily you can get overwhelmed with simple tasks."

Shelton shot him a glare. "I'm more concerned the thing will explode when I break in the door," he replied.

"Tch. Highly unlikely," Peyton said with a huff. He stepped up to Shelton's side and crossed his arms, "The artefact is sealed tightly beneath the ground. This is just the upper level. And... why the hell would it explode?"

"You tell me. What is this thing and why is it worth so much? What they hell have they protected it with?"

Peyton rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Gods, it's like talking to a child. Look, who knows why they hid it out here? The people who worshipped this thing were almost certainly insane. A cult, maybe. But that was over five hundred years ago. I think it's safe to assume that anything they believed has long since been forgotten."

"Right, and you just happened to find some guy who wants to pay a fortune for a useless old piece of stone." Shelton frowned.

"Yeah, that's right. And I didn't ask questions when I saw what he was paying both of us to get it for him." The merchant glared up at the larger man as he gestured to the stone, "Now, would you please move this fucking rock so we can get inside?"

"Yeh," the guard muttered. He flashed the merchant a warning glare, like anything about to go wrong would be his fault.

Shelton put his hands on the slab of stone at the door. He gave it a shove and it didn't budge. Digging in his gauntleted hand, he tugged it to one side, and then the other. Nothing, the massive stone slab remained rigidly fixed.

Well, there was one last thing to try. He stepped back and turned a shoulder towards the seal. Planting a foot, he rammed his side into the center of the slab. Steel met stone with a clash and a crack.

Quickly glancing to his side, Shelton checked his pauldron, making sure he hadn't broken it. He wiped off his precious armour, dusting away the grit. It looked fine though scuffed. He'd polish it later.

Shelton turned to the door, eyeing the slab carefully. Balancing on a leg, he threw a heavy kick into the seal. The stone sheared, splitting down the middle. The knight grinned. The two halves fell open with hardly any further fuss.

He turned to his fellow, giving him a cocky smirk and gesturing to the open passage. Head upturned, he looked pretty darn proud of the accomplishment.

"Oh, well done Shelton. At last, you've decided to use your muscles instead of your mind. I'm very proud." the merchant said, sarcasm dripping off every word.

The 'muscle' sneered. "Yeh, I didn't see you getting us anywhere. Come on, get you ass in or you're carrying it out yourself. Let's see you haul that stone up with your mind smart guy."

Peyton sighed and strode past the massive man, walking into the darkness of the small chamber. The stale air struck him like a palpable wave of time. Heavy and full of dust, it was choking. Inside, the stone walls curved upwards and met in an almost perfectly round dome, each side smooth and round. The merchant marveled at the work that must've been put into such a chamber, casting his eyes around as he looked for the second entrance to the vault beneath them.

Following, Shelton huffed as the smaller fellow came to a halt in the middle of the entrance. He put a heavy metal hand between the merchant's shoulder blades and shoved him along, making room enough for him to enter after.

Grunting at the forceful push, Peyton stumbled forward and nearly tripped as his foot snagged on the edge of something. He just managed to catch his balance before turning back to glare at the massive man behind him.

"Move. You're blocking the sunlight," the merchant said with a huff as he bent down and ran his hands over the ground, searching for the notch he'd tripped over.

The heavily armoured figured sidestepped, matching the man's glare with one of his own.

As the mountain of a man moved to the side, a beam of golden sunlight shone through the entrance and illuminated the interior of the chamber. Peyton blinked a few times and cast his hands out in front of him to wipe away years worth of dust and dirt until--

Thunk!

"Ahah! There we are. Now I just need..." fiddling with his fingers, the merchant bit his bottom lip as he felt around for a specific point to grab hold of. Finally, his searching fingers wrapped around a latch and he yanked it upwards, pulling a large, circular hatch up from the ground with a grunt of exertion. He stepped forwards, putting all his weight into the heavy wooden door until he felt gravity take the weight from him.

With a loud thud and a blast of dust, the hatch laid open on the ground, revealing a deep shaft leading down into the darkness below them. A ladder of old rusted rungs embedded in the stone shaft presented the path forward and down. The sound of the door's crash was still echoing back at them from the depths.

"Hah... well, there's only one thing to do now, I suppose. Grab the torch and my flint and steel." Peyton told the larger man who was now standing beside the entrance.

Shelton crossed his arms, steel scraping over steel. "I tended your old half dead horse all day. You do the legwork."

Peyton rolled his eyes at the imposing man, "Really? If by 'tended' you mean used a whip on a poor old horse more times than I can count, then yes, you've earned your weight in gold. A considerable amount, to be sure."

"I got us here without the old nag laying down and falling asleep on us. You hired me as a guard. Not to manage your decrepit old mare or run back and fetch every little damn thing you ask for."

"I hope you realize you're getting paid much more than a damn guard ever would for this sort of job. So why don't you take that massive body of yours and walk the six steps it'll take you to get to the cart instead of wasting time arguing with the man who's responsible for getting this job in the first place?" Peyton raised his voice slightly, glaring heatedly at the man across the chamber from him.

Shelton stepped forward, intimidatingly towering over the small knelt merchant. Arms still crossed he glared right back down at the man. "And I haven't seen a single copper coin yet. You haven't paid me at all for the last three of those great 'jobs' you got. It's a long way down that damn hole I bet. Unless you want to be thrown down it head first, I suggest to think before you tell me to go fetch things for you like a trained dog," he growled. "You hired me to keep you safe. Remember that, or maybe I just won't." He shrugged.

Peyton smirked up at the mass of mad muscle before him before letting out a sigh.

"Threatening your employer? What a fantastic idea, Shelton. I'm so thrilled you're going back down this tired line of thinking yet again. Seems you can't go a single job without really thinking things through. It's a shame, really." The merchant said with fire in his eyes.

"It's not a job if we don't get paid. And you're not an employer as long as you're still stiffing me pay." Shelton grinned, leaning down. Bent half over, he came face to face with the merchant. "You're lucky I'm more upright than half of those thugs you considered hiring. They would have stabbed you in the back and thrown you down this hole if you skipped their payment half as long as you have me." He stood back up. Arms still crossed, he looked as immovable as the stone of the tomb around them. "Until you pay me, get your own shit," he said through his teeth.

"Oh, I'll pay you alright, my friend," Peyton said sweetly smiling up at the enormous man while he stood up from his crouched position. "Just don't expect to get the full amount I promised. This little stunt of yours is it. I'm done with you once we get back to town."

That got the guard's attention. His eyes narrowed and his brow folded into a harsh glare. This wasn't playing anymore. Shelton looked calculating. Peyton must have known him long enough to know, Shelton only got scheming when he wanted someone to suffer. He considered getting mad, but that wouldn't solve anything.

So finally, he just shrugged. Shelton turned to walk out of the tomb. "Fine. Have fun getting it back to town by yourself. I'm done with you now little man. I'm going to find someone who pays. Or at least appreciates it when I forgive them not paying the first three times."

Peyton leaned his head back and groaned softly to himself before clenching his hands into fists for a few moments. Then with a sigh, he relaxed his fingers and called out to Shelton, "I promised I'd pay you, you idiot. Don't throw away a fortune because of one simple request. Just get the torch, help me bring this... whatever the hell it is up and out of this godforsaken crypt and we can both part ways much richer than we found each other."

"More promises," he huffed dismissively. Shelton fixed him with a shrewd glare. He was silent for a time, locking eyes with his 'employer'. "You keep saying 'fortune'... But what you promised me isn't what I'd call great wealth. It's a goodly sum, but not a fortune. How much are you getting paid? Are you stiffing me again?"

There was a long tense silence in the stillness of the old tomb. Shelton waited for an answer, scrutinizing the other man's face. Peyton fidgeted.

"It's... it's more than I said before. Much more. Fifty thousand gold pieces, or so I was promised." Peyton said quietly, staring over at the other man.

Shelton sneered, harsh eyes stabbing the man. "I want half," he said finally, fixing Peyton with his cold eyes. "And, I'm carrying it."

"And what, pray tell, is going to stop you from taking it for yourself?" Peyton asked with a suspicious frown.

"You've stiffed me three payments. If I did, I figure we'd be even," he replied with a smirk and a shrug. "Guess you're just going to have to trust me. I didn't throw you down the hole," he said with a grin.

"Yeah, that's a great thing you didn't do. Not throwing someone half your size down a hole. Brilliant. Wonderful work. You're a saint." Peyton said with a tired sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I can still leave," Shelton replied, gesturing to the exit.

"Can't wait 'till you do, asshole." Peyton mumbled to himself as he leaned down and cleaned the dust off his knobby knees.

"And you're just an angel," Shelton smirked smugly. He crossed his arms to wait.

With one last glare, Peyton walked past the massive wall of a man and out of the chamber, trudging down the slight slope to his cart mumbling to himself all the while. After rummaging around in the back, he made his way back into the small chamber, a wooden torch in one hand and a his flint and steel in the other. With a huff, he knelt down and propped the torch between his arm and knee, then swapped his flint to his other hand. Striking the two together, he sent a wave of sparks onto the lightly oiled cloth at the end of the torch. Two more strikes and the torch was aflame.

Pocketing the other items, Peyton held the torch up and walked back into the dark chamber, bathing the rounded walls inside with a warm, orange glow. He glanced over at his idiotic guard and rolled his eyes.

"There. A burning torch. Something a child can handle but apparently you can't. You amaze me more every single day, Shelton."

"Bet a child could even master the concept of not pissing off the bastard who has two feet and one hundred pounds of muscle on them too. Shut the fuck up and get going." He pointed the mouthy merchant to the shaft. "You go first."

The merchant's eyebrows arched in mock surprise. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little darkness?"

"I don't trust you to not to throw that hatch closed on top of me," Shelton replied. "Get climbing or I'll throw you down."

Peyton chuckled to himself. "Unbelievable. Fine. I'll go first then."

Slowly, the chunky merchant lowered himself onto the first rung of the ladder, testing it with one foot and finding it held nicely. With one last glance up at Shelton, he began to lower himself down, holding the torch up with on hand as he descended into the pit below.

Shelton gave him a good dozen feet head start. He watched him go, peering after him as he descended into the deep tomb. For a moment, just a moment, he considered slamming the hatch shut on the little cur and being done with it once and for all. Frankly by now he deserved it.

Stepping up to the hatch, Shelton rest a hand on the heavy door. Glaring down at Peyton, he stroked his fingers over the cold stone. Maybe he could scare a little respect into the asshole. But he doubted it. With a final sigh, he hefted himself around and stepped onto the rusting ladder.

The depth was enormous. The ladder seemed to extend forever. It felt like climbing down right into the pits of hell. There was nothing but the tight chiseled shaft and the flicker of torchlight off the walls. Rung after rung came and went. The shaft continued down.

They'd been going for what seemed like hours. Shelton glanced back up, and found the light from the top of the shaft little more than and faint flickering star. Looking back down, squinting passed Peyton's torch, he could see no hint of how much farther there was to go.

Peyton's arms trembled, struggling to hold his weight clinging to the ladder. Fitter, Shelton had no such trouble, even with his heavy armour cladding. Arms steady and climbing unfettered, he maintained a quick pace continuing leisurely down. It got to the point the merchant was holding them up despite even his long head start. The knight sighed as he saw the firelight grow nearer and felt the torch's warm glow. He slowed so as not to step on the merchant's hands.

It only took a moment for Shelton to find the man's plodding pace agonizingly slow though. Growing impatient, the knight finally could wait silently no more. Stretching a leg, he tapped the man on the shoulder with a foot.

"Hurry up will you, I want to make it to the bottom before age claims me."

Peyton glared back up at the armoured guard above him. He opened his mouth to retort, but his huffing exhausted panting breath kept him silent. Instead, he formulated another reply behind a sly smirk. Snickering, he waved the lit torch nearer to the knight's metal ass.

"Hey!" Shelton snapped at the sudden blast of heat near his backside. He moved a foot, threatening the steel boot directly over the merchant's head.

The torch and the boot made for an effective stalemate, and that was the end of it. Peyton pulled away the threatening fire and the knight returned his boot to rest again on the ladder rung. They fell back into the pace of heading down, Peyton wheezing and panting, and Shelton grumbling at the achingly slow progress.

Finally, just when it seemed like the shaft might just descend forever, Peyton's foot abruptly and unexpectedly struck the bottom. The shaft ended unceremoniously on a carved stone floor. A narrow cutting chiselled out opposite the ladder led on. There was barely room in the small chamber to turn around.

By now though, he was left breathing heavily, unused to having to exert his overly heavy body as much as he just had. Sweat beaded along his brow and he reached up with his free hand to wipe it clean while he held up the torch and glanced around.

The small space continued on for a few feet before it curved around a bend in front of him and Peyton moved forward slightly, hearing the steady steps of Shelton's decent nearing him. He braced himself against the side of the tight area, still trying to catch his breath.

Shelton arrived at the bottom, steel setting foot on the solid ground. He once again looked up. Now the light above was barely visible. The measure of excavation of the shaft was almost unbelievable. It was impossible to tell the exact distance, but it felt like he'd just finished a several mile hike.

Even his trained and toned arms and legs were burning. His muscles, strained from the long climb in heavy armour, were alight from the workout. He rubbed a gauntleted hand over his steel clad bicep. Grinning with satisfaction, he nodded to himself. If nothing else it was a good workout.

But he was used to pushing his body and enjoyed it. It hardly took him a moment to catch his breath again. His muscles would be sore for a day at least, but it was an ache he was accustomed too and he associated the discomfort with the feeling of a job well done.

Still grinning, he checked his partner, smug in the assumption he would be worse off for the long hard climb. The merchant was still breathing in and out steady, bracing himself against the side of the corridor and holding the torch up to light the space. He glanced back at Shelton with a look of exhaustion and loathing.

Laughing, the knight slapped him on the back. Not holding himself back, the crack of the steel belted fingers was a stiff strike, certainly able to leave a bruise and sting to the bone.

"Bit of exercise. Might have to get used to it now you won't have me to help you with any load heavier than a book."

Shelton squeezed passed the gasping Peyton, slamming a shoulder into him on the way by to crush him into the wall of the passage. The gleaming steel of the knight's polished pauldon rammed the merchant's cheek.

"Come on, get a move on," Shelton called. "Don't waste the whole day."

"Oh, as if arguing about who should get a torch didn't waste any time at all, you fucker." Peyton spat, shaking his head as he continued forward.

The narrow carved corridor led on a twisting winding route. It wavered one way then the next, staggering like a drunken old man. Shelton, tall and clad in unyielding armour, needed to duck the low ceilings. He kept a cautious steel hand above himself to keep from hitting his head.

The long winding tunnel carried on at least as far as the deep descent had. Marching along the long dark path, they had to be walking miles. Though due to the twisting turning route, the direct distance wouldn't be as much. Even so, this snaking cavern had to be leading them far away from their starting place.

Peyton craned his neck to try and see past the next bend in the corridor, holding the torch aloft only to find the passage led further and further in.

"Gods, whoever built this place must've been mad. Makes no sense to force whoever's down here to wonder underneath the ground like a rat." The merchant paused, leaning to the cavern wall to take the weight momentarily off his feet. Panting and puffing, he let his head fall back against the cold stone.

Shelton glanced back. Grinning, he heckled the plump exhausted merchant, "Tired already?"

"No," he huffed. Lurching forward, Peyton swung himself back up onto his feet and continued forward despite continued complaining.

The going was relatively easy until the winding twisting corridor through the rock pitched sharply down. At least the toned athletic knight found no difficulty pushing forward. The steep slope itself wasn't much of a worry to him. Shelton managed to keep a steady footing despite the slippery descent.

From the distance, echoing along the almost impossibly long passage, came the sound of flowing water. Trickling and bubbling, at first it sounded like a babbling little stream. As they grew nearer though, it only became louder and more intense. Soon it was a rushing torrential river. With the echo of the corridor, it sounded like the pouring blasting water was all around them.

At the bottom of the slope, they found the source. Cutting across their carven narrow passage, was a coursing surging subterranean river. The water was gushing from one side of the corridor, pouring across it, before vanishing into a deep dark plunging hole. The gaping yawning river was far too wide to be crossed in a single bound.

The tossing torrent of pouring water was more than enough to sweep away a man. And plunging down into the deep dark hole with a rushing surging current, anyone carried away would surely never be seen again.

Just their luck, there were a few somewhat sturdy looking stones sticking through the rippling tossing waters of the river. They were slicked wet, and occasional bursts of water crashed and washed over them. It was just enough to give them a path forward. Just enough to lure them into their doom.

Shelton glanced back to check Peyton. He gave him a prying look. "Don't fall in," he said.

With that, he turned to the stony shores of the dark hidden river. Shelton stepped back for some room, then threw himself at it. His steel boots rang off the stones, leaping from one to the next. He made it across with no trouble. Looking back, he smirked at the merchant. The knight raised a daring eyebrow and crossed his arms to wait.

"It's like you can't help but state the obvious," said Peyton with annoyed shake of his head as he stepped back. Launching himself forward, arms outstretched for balance, he kicked off into a jump. He made it to the first stone safely and then bounded across to the second one. He moved back to get enough of a start before he jumped for the third rock, then took a breath and began to move forward when--

"Ahh!"

In an instant, his foot slipped harshly on the slick surface, throwing the pudgy man off balance and into the rushing water. He slammed down on one of the stone pillars as he toppled, his short cry echoing off of the cave walls.

"Shit," Shelton cursed between his teeth.

Without thinking much, he dove right in after him. Feet digging into the stone, he jumped, throwing himself straight in at the flailing man. One hand snapped to the pudgy merchant's collar. The other wrapped around one of the stone pillars. Lucky for both of them, the stone held. Lucky for Peyton, so did his collar.

The water was ice cold. It rattled against his armour like a hail of stones. Shelton struggled to hold on, clinging to both of their lives. The flow of water was enough to make the merchant seem six times heavier. His clothing soaked through to the bone.

Shelton grit his teeth, grinding them anxiously. He had to get them out, and soon. His arms shook, shivering and strained. Grunting, he heaved Peyton up one armed. With titanic strength, the knight hefted the man over his head and threw him up to the dry shore.

Panting, he twisted his head, trying to keep it out of the blast of water. He grabbed onto the rock, wrapping his arms around it. Flexing, he pulled himself up. He was even heavier, weighed down by metal armour, and now it was full of water too. Hoisting himself up, he desperately scrambled up onto the little pillar of crumbling rock.

He got on top, balancing with his belly on the pillar of stone. Feet scratching on the side of the craggy rock and planting his palms on it. He got up to his knees. Water splashed over him and the footing.

A moment to recover, and he got himself to his feet. From there, it was a quick leap across to dry land and safety. Shelton fell to his knees, armour clattering under him. Now, he was tired. Clutching his stomach, he fell to his side and spilled out onto the stone. He sprawled out flat, rolling over to his back.

He gasped for breath, panting. "I told you... not to fall in..." he huffed with a grin.

Peyton coughed up a bit of water as he tried to breath evenly again. Turning over, he laid on his side and beat his chest to dislodge any remaining water. Glancing over at the knight, he just stared at the larger man as his breathing returned to normal, a look of embarrassment and begrudging thanks written on his face.

Grunting, Shelton rolled over onto his belly. He got his hands under him and pushed himself back up to kneel. Absolutely everything was soaked. The water had filled his armour like a watering pot and the clothing layer underneath had drunk it up like a thirsty plant.

He slowly got himself back to his feet. Then, he absolutely needed to get the soaking clothes off. First, he needed to start the long process of disassembling his intricate armour. Getting the heavy plate off, it would give even the out of shape merchant enough time to recover.

"Where's the torch? Get me some light would you?" Shelton asked.

In the fall, Peyton had thrown his arms forward and the flaming torch had clattered to the damp floor. Doused as the knight threw the merchant out of the water with more than his fair share of water, it had been extinguished

Peyton scrambled forward as best he could in the darkness, fumbling with his hands as he searched around for the torch. His fingers bumped against the solid rod and he grabbed it, then reached into his side pouch and pulled out the flint and stone. After a few strikes and a burst of sparks, the torch had been relit and cast a warm glow against the dark depths of the cave. Peyton blinked away from the flame for a moment and then turned to offer some light to the other man.

Having escaped his encasing armour, Shelton started peeling off his wet clothing. Pulling his dripping shirt off over his head, he dropped it to the cavern floor. It landed with a wet squelch. The knight's body was in impeccable shape, and the soaking from the water only made his taut firm muscular chest glisten in the torchlight. The light and shadow playing over his sculpted pecs and abs made him look all the more magnificent. Even the reddened shade of the torchlight was flattering.

Bending over, he removed his boots. Upending one, a little stream of water poured out to patter on the ground. He frowned. His footwear was soaked through to the core. The leather soles had swollen with all the water. They'd be wet for days. He sighed, tossing them aside. He'd be barefooted until he could come up with something to wear from the cart back topside.

His trousers he removed too, leaving him only in slicked smallclothes. Wet, the form fitting undergarment clung to him, leaving very little to be imagined. Not only had the man's body been honed and sculpted, but it seemed he'd also be blessed by virile gods with a respectable package. His enviable cock and heavy hand filling balls could be clearly made out under the clinging cloth. Not that Peyton hadn't already gotten some inkling of that after all their time together.

Peyton glanced at the towering figure beside him, the knight's cut body silhouetted against the glow of the torch. The merchant couldn't help but feel self-conscious about his own less than chiseled form. He glanced between the two of them, and couldn't help but draw uncharitable comparisons between their two builds and bodies.

Managing to stand up, he felt his heavy, sopping clothes as they dripped water onto the ground. With a sigh, he slipped both arms out of his long merchant coat regretfully. It had been his favourite ever since a few months ago when he'd bought it, and he hated the idea of leaving it in such a dark, damp place.

But there was nothing to be done, so he dropped it on the ground with a plop. Standing there shivering slightly, Peyton glanced back at Shelton, still unsure if he wanted to thank the man for saving him or not. He knew he should, that it was the right thing to do--something any man would do in his position--but their earlier falling out had left him bitter at the thought of giving an inch to the other man.

'Maybe later, after we're out of this godforsaken place,' he thought to himself as he looked away and listened to the sound of the river rushing by.

Now nearly nude, Shelton looked to the miserable dripping Peyton. He gave the merchant a long steady look. A somewhat sorrowful frown crossed his face and he sighed. After a moment of silence, he tossed his head, indicating forward.

"Come on then," he said, turning himself to carry on forward.

Bringing the torch, Peyton fell back into line behind. Though now, he walked to the sight of the knight's sculpted back and broad firm buttocks under a thin damp cloth rather than the featureless smooth backside of his armour.

They shivered as they continued. Cold breezes whistled through the cavern. The howling wind hadn't been as noticeable when they were fully dressed in travel clothes. Now though, the cold air stung. For the nearly naked knight, it made the nipples on his thick firm chest stand out hard.

Their trek was remarkably short after that watery ordeal, most thankfully. The corridor abruptly ended, opening onto a massive chamber. Turning sharp corners, both walls just vanished into a black void. Other their heads, the low ceiling ended too. Only the stone floor remained under them in the featureless inky blackness.

Shelton walked out, bare footsteps on the solid floor. His footsteps echoed again and again into the impenetrable darkness, doubling until they sounded like a distant marching army.

The space they stumbled out into was simply cavernous. Peyton exited, casting his torch about the darkness. The light of the torch refused to kiss any other wall or surface in any direction. Instead, the flickering illumination just faded away into nothingness across the featureless flat floor.

He glanced back to Peyton. "Well?" he asked. No longer hostile, his voice was merely exhausted.

"Onward, I guess." Peyton said quietly, now shaking slightly against the cold and trying his best to stay close to the torch that the knight was holding.

Finally, after an unnerving amount of time walking forward into the empty black void, the torchlight started to glimmer off a distant surface. Cautiously approaching, the torchlight bloomed wider across the resolving surface. A massive wall of pure white marble loomed out of the inky blackness.

Like the void, the wall of white seemed to continue of forever into the blackness to either side. It was pristine and smooth, formed from what seemed to be one monolithic slab rather than assembled from blocks.

The only feature was a single small door. Carved in relief, chiselled from the mass of smooth marble, two columns and a lentil roof made the image of a humble tomb. Dead center in the middle of this massive infinite wall of marble, in this vast endless void of dark, it was less than modest.

Cautiously, Shelton stepped up to the door. He tested it. Solidly locked, the door rebuffed his hand. The knight turned to face the door on side. It had worked once this day already. He squared up with the heavy stone door and aimed his shoulder.

Hitting it with a hard crack failed to buckle the sealed entrance. Shelton stepped back, rubbing his shoulder. Without a steel pauldron to take the brunt of it, he couldn't deliver as much force. Even so, the door seemed much more solid and secure than the first above ground.

Peyton cleared his throat and stepped forward slowly as he spoke up, "There should be... ah, I think I see it. Can you...?"

The merchant reached forward and looked at the knight, indicating that he was in his way. With a nod, the large man moved to the side to let Peyton move closer to the slab of marble.

Placing his hands along the cool, flat stone, he moved them both from the middle of the door to the bottom half as his fingers searched for something. Finally, after a few seconds, Peyton grinned as he felt a subtle notch in the stone. Someone else might've thought it was just an imperfection in the stone but he knew better.

With one hand, he put pressure against the notch until it creaked forward slightly, and as he added more and more pressure, it moved back further and further until a solid thud sounded from somewhere behind the marble and the door swung open a few inches. Peyton smiled and pushed it forward, opening it wide as he looked at what lay inside.

Beyond the open door, stood an almost remarkably small chamber. Three featureless walls, a floor, and a ceiling made a tiny square room carved from the marble edifice. It was exactly the sort of chamber one might expect inside a small humble crypt such as the one carved upon the great stone wall.

"It should be just beyond... oh." Peyton stared ahead, confusion painting his face.

Or, in a cruel twist of irony, it looked exactly like the space one might have expected to find inside that little stone building they'd first entered. Hours and miles of a journey and a mere brush with death had brought them right to the spot they might have expected just the other side of that first door.

Shelton scowled, thoroughly unimpressed with the joke of the ancient builders. He glanced to Peyton, giving him the same cool glare.

"Huh. I guess... this is it then," said the merchant as he stepped forward into the small chamber, glancing at the object in the middle of the space. He moved towards it slowly, arching an eyebrow as he stopped and stared. Resting dead center of the small chamber was a single small wooden box. An old lockbox, the wood was rotting and the iron was rusting, but for its age it was remarkably intact.

It was what they'd come for. To retrieve the box and deliver it unopened to its mysterious purchaser.

Shelton stepped in after him. "That's it?" he asked, looking skeptically over the little rusting, rotting lockbox.

Even if it was full of gold and the most precious gems imaginable, it wouldn't be worth half of the payment Peyton had supposedly been promised.

Peyton nodded, "Yes, I believe it is. Though... it's definitely smaller than I had imagined."

The knight nodded, but remained frowning and unconvinced. "Fine. Let's just get it out of here."

He stepped passed the merchant and knelt to pick up the box. He had been expecting something heavy, at least full of some kind of riches. He hadn't expected it to be so incredibly heavy as it was.

Jerking at the box, he moved to pull it up. It surprisingly remained in place, being much heavier than his initial estimate. The knight groaned, back in pain from the sudden unexpected tug. Shelton fell forward, catching himself with both hands on the box.

"What's in this thing?"

"Apparently it's some sort of totem that the people who built this place either worshipped or created. My contact didn't tell me much other than it was ancient and impossibly valuable." Peyton recounted as he eyed the box in the knight's hands before adding, "Oh, and supposedly it's full of magic or some such nonsense."

"Well it weighs a bloody ton." The knight tipped his head, beckoning the merchant over. Shelton took one end of the box, waiting for Peyton to grab the other.

The merchant stepped over and grabbed the handle on the other end of the box with a grunt, surprised at the weight of the thing. With a huff, he set his shoulders and tightened his grip, trying his best not to think about the journey back that the two of them would have to make. He glanced over at the knight who looked back at him with a blank stare for a moment before he stepped forward and began their return journey.

Somehow they struggled their way back to the ladder. They had stopped on the way to collect Shelton's armour and Peyton's prized coat. The knight tossed on his armour, they needed their hands to haul the heavy crate and he wasn't about to leave his plate down here. But, without dry clothing between the steel and his skin, it was certainly freezing cold. His boots, still dripping wet, he laid on top of the crate. Peyton's coat went over a shoulder, dripping down his back as they pushed forward.

The water was crossed with great care and difficulty, nearly leading to their deaths a second time, but they made it. After a long, hard, tiring hike, labouring under the burdensome load, they finally made it back to where they'd begun.

Shelton set down the lockbox, though Peyton certainly needed a break too. The knight looked up the long dark ladder, frowning at the final obstacle. The merchant sat on the box, puffing to catch his breath.

Shelton thought it over carefully, briefly pondering with a hand on his chin. He grabbed a rope from his things. Tying, he fashioned a bit of a harness, two loops for his arms and shoulders. Holding the rest of the rope, he turned to the box. He fixed the merchant with a curious look, waiting with an impatient smirk for him to clear the way.

With a grunt, the overweight man stood up from his seat and moved to the side, now watching curiously at what Shelton was going to do.

Peyton off, the knight knelt. The rest of the rope went through the handles of the box, under it as something of a sling, and fastened back to the hempen harness he'd made himself.

Throwing it on, Shelton synched up the harness like a horse in a yoke. He pulled it over his arms and tightened himself into the makeshift tack. He was ready to pull most of the load up the long climb.

"You push," he said, too tired to be more long spoken.

Shelton pushed the crate to the base of the ladder before stepping over it and onto the old iron rungs. He started up, climbing until the ropes pulled tight. Grunting, he threw his shoulders into it. Slowly, the little chest started to rise.

The knight strained and groaned like a puffing old workhorse. It was certainly more weight than he really should be carrying. His legs shook slightly, his arms trembled. His fingers went white on the iron ladder, gripping for all his life. He looked up with a beleaguered sigh. It was a long climb. There would be no true breaks until the top. It was a heavy load. If his strength failed, it was a long fall.

Glancing up at the length of the climb they were about to make together, Peyton took a deep breath before he stepped forward and got underneath the box. He gripped the rungs of the ladder and hoisted himself up, leaning his head forward to try and fit the box on his neck and shoulders.

It took some of the weight off Shelton. The knight breathed a sigh of relief, but there was no rest yet. He threw himself forward, pushing on under the heavy hanging weight suspended from his shoulders.

The two of them started slowly up, settling in for what would be a long, exhausting, agonizing climb. Even sharing the burdensome load between them, both were soon panting heavily, sweat beading across their brows. Their arms ached, hauling them up as they climbed higher and higher with each rung. The ladder seemed to go on just short of forever.

The ropes creaked and twisted, groaning at their part of the load. They tugged at the knight's armoured pauldrons, digging the straps into his shoulders. The heavy chest laid across the merchant's back, corners and edges jabbing at him. At the same time, Peyton, while not carrying the bulk of the weight, felt like he was being punched at the base of his neck with every step. The heavy bulk above him dug into his rounded shoulders and he hefted the leftover weight as he continued to climb.

Their arms soon trembled and shook, straining under the continued load and long aching climb. Fingers clutched at the cold stone and their feet balanced in the narrow footholds.

The end of the long shaft appeared as a distant glimmering light far above their heads. Glancing up, Shelton could only grunt. He grabbed at the rope harness, tugging it tight to keep it securely on.

"Almost... there..." he puffed for Peyton's benefit.

The merchant, wheezing for breath and red in the face could hardly even manage a reply. His whole body was shaking, pushed right up against its very limit. And yet he continued forward, not willing to allow his tired, overworked body to stop when they were so close to the end. Adrenaline pumping, he huffed out and put his foot down on the next rung. Then the next. Then the ne--

A groan came from the rusty iron bar underneath his foot. With a sudden snap, it fell out from under him, bringing his body down with it in a sudden jolt. The merchant fell away from the underside of the hanging box.

Suddenly losing his assistance with the load, all the weight went immediately to Shelton. The box fell a fraction of an inch, tugging on its makeshift rope sling. The ropes jerked the knight back, yanking him away from the ladder. His fingers slipped, pulled from the iron bars. His toes came free from their footing.

Shelton's eyes went wide, feeling himself fall and keenly knowing himself to be high over a very long very deep shaft. His stomach sickeningly rose in his gut, feeling the world fall out from under him.

With the knight falling, the crate dropped with him. It slammed down onto Peyton's shoulders, striking him like a falling stone. The old rotting wood cracked and snapped, breaking over his back.

Shelton flailed in a panic, frantically clutching for something. His foot went back, blindly stepping for anything to catch his weight. What he struck was the box he'd been carrying. He kicked his boots from the lid. They went tumbling down into the darkness. He put a heel right through the decrepit old timber of the lid.

Inside, brushing through shattered splinters, the bare skin of his foot met something shockingly cold. So bitterly frozen, it stung biting at his heel. Shelton felt his whole body tense at a sudden shock coursing up through his body.

Meanwhile, as his weight struck the idol inside, a sharp point of the little stone totem broke through the base of its case. It poked right down into Peyton's skull, meeting his scalp as a burning hot point like a poker pulled fresh from the fire. He reeled his head back mid-fall, the intense sensation feeling like he'd been branded somehow.

As he moved, his feet somehow found their way onto one of the rungs beneath him and he reached out frantically to grab onto another rusty bar above him. This time it seemed to hold his weight, though he wasn't keen to find out for how long.

Shelton gripped frantically at the nearest available ladder rungs. Moving quickly, he hooked his arms through the rungs, securely hooking himself to the side of the narrow shaft. His foot flew to find purchase on some more rods, locking himself in place.

There was an intense moment of silent stillness, both of them freezing to see if their hastily grasped footholds and handholds would take their sudden weight. Echos of splintered wood and broken iron rattling down the chasm, falling back down into the darkness below.

Shelton fought a moment to his breath. "You... you still there?" he asked shakily.

"Yeah. C-can we just hurry up and get out? Really don't feel like dying here today." Peyton's shaky voice came from several feet below. The merchant slowly climbed back up to just under Shelton and took several deep breaths to try and steady his nerves.

"Alright... alright..."

The knight looked back up. They were so achingly close. He bit his lip and reached cautiously for the next rung. He started them back up again. They couldn't get out of this damn hole soon enough.

Those last few nervous feet wore more on the rattled men than just about any that day. But finally, finally, Shelton reached an arm up out of the deep yawning chasm. He quickly scrambled out.

Turning around on the solid stone, he reached back down into the shaft. He grabbed the box with both hands and hauled it out, setting it aside. With the load out of the way, he reached down a hand for Peyton.

The merchant quickly reached up and grabbed the offered hand, quickly hauling himself up and over the edge of the hole. He rolled onto the floor and laid there looking up at the rounded stone ceiling above, his hands shaking by his sides as he breathed in and out repeatedly.

And they were both out. Shelton sat back on the cold stone floor. He clattered, sprawling to his back. He was at once trembling from utter exhaustion and shaking from adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Rolling his head over, he looked to the box. Lid smashed away by his falling foot, it now lay fully open. They could see what this thing was, what they'd risked their lives for. If nothing else, he was curious what was so massively heavy.

He looked to Peyton, checking him before sitting up. The knight leaned to the box, peering in. It wasn't what he'd expected, though after finding it so incredibly heavy, he didn't know exactly what he expected anymore.

What lay inside the broken box was a strange brick of glossy black stone. Perfectly square, the thing was flat and smooth on every surface. The only thing breaking the shape of the black cube was a small claw shaped point poking from its front. A second sharp point poked out the back, having pierced its way through the bottom of the box.

"Huh," he muttered, reaching in.

Peyton looked over at the knight and saw where he was reaching, his eye widening as he started to warn the other man.

"No don't touch--"

"We've already--"

The knight wrapped a hand around the thing. It came out with surprisingly little fuss. He found the thing so light it was almost weightless. Ready to lift something many times heavier, he practically flung it out of the box.

"What?" he said in surprise. The idol felt like nothing more than a light feather.

As he pulled it out, the box started to crumble. The wood fell to pieces and the iron crusted into rust. Before their eyes, the whole lockbox disintegrated into dust.

"That... wasn't supposed to happen," Peyton said, eyes wide and heart thumping at the sight he'd just witnessed. He glanced back at the strange cubic totem in Shelton's hand and blinked hard before he spoke up again.

"I was specifically told not to touch whatever was inside the box. I don't... how am I going to explain this to him?" Peyton leaned forward slowly, gazing over at the object. It looked so ancient and strange to him, but seemed to exude an odd energy, as if even just looking at it seemed to be in sharp focus somehow. He blinked a few more times before looking up at Shelton.

"Well there wasn't much we could have done about it," the knight replied. He tossed the cube to the merchant, having found it so strangely light.

Peyton snatched it out of the air and ran his fingers over the odd shapes and edges that connected it all together. He shook his head, finding it hard to believe that this strange thing was worth what he'd been promised.

Reaching up to wipe away the sweat that had built up from the climb, Peyton rubbed his forehead absentmindedly, a flash of dull heat emanating from where the idol had struck him. He felt it flare up a bit at the memory of the sensation, only this time it seemed to fill his whole skull, focusing on his temples like a hangover headache.

Shelton sat back down, resting his aching body. A strange tingle shivered through his foot and he reached down to scratch it. The tickle spread up towards his ankle, and his other foot also started to flare up almost in sympathy.

They sat in silence a while, recovering from what they'd endured. Finally, Shelton clapped his hands to his knees. Pushing, he forced himself back up.

"Alright, let's get to it," he said.

The knight offered the merchant a hand to get back to his feet.

Contemplatively, Peyton looked at the offered hand for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the offer and what that would mean. But as always seemed to be the case between him and Shelton, he couldn't continue to stoke the angry flames. With a sigh, he reached over and grasped it firmly, letting the larger man pull him up onto his feet.

He looked up at the knight for a moment, trying his best to hold his gaze as he spoke.

"Thank you, Shelton. For... saving me. Again. And I'm sorry about--" he glanced away and ground his teeth, still not used to apologizing. Slowly, he looked back up and continued, "--about what I said before. You'll get your fair share, I swear it."

"Don't mention it." Walking towards the exit, Shelton clapped Peyton on the shoulder. "If this turns out to be worthless, I'll fucking gut you," the knight laughed.

Peyton couldn't bring himself to laugh, not that he was even sure the big man was joking. But at least the fiery tension between the two of them seemed to have simmered down for now, at least until the next flare up.

"Well, let's head back then. I'll get this wrapped up." He gestured to the totem in his hand before a thought struck him. "And I guess we can simply say that there wasn't a box when we found it. He should be satisfied with that."

Shelton nodded. "I'll need to figure out something for a new pair of boots," he said with a frown, looking down to his cold bare feet on the chilly stone.

"I think I've got an extra pair in the cart somewhere. Might be tight, but it'll be better than walking barefoot at the very least." The merchant started to walk out of the small chamber before he turned and looked behind him at the open trap door they'd emerged from. He looked back at Shelton and gestured.

"Would you like to do the honours?"

The knight chuckled and walked over to the slab of rock at Peyton had opened. Then, with a mighty heave, the mountain of a man gripped the stone door and lifted it off the ground with force. Following its arc, the slab slammed shut with a deep, heavy slam that echoed loudly in the small room.

Shelton wiped his hands over each other, getting the dust and dirt off of them as he followed Peyton out of the chamber and back down the hill they'd come up. The two walked back to their cart and, after a few minutes, the sound of a whip cracked around the hillside as the old mare started to move and the two men began their long journey back, one ancient, possibly magical, hopefully expensive item in tow.