Chapter Fifteen—Loot

They walked slowly between the pillars, each of which spanned about three paces in width. The sheer size of them was a sight to behold, and made Shiro’s anticipation grow.

“There’s torches,” Ali said, lighting one on the pillars nearest them. “Go light the others.”

Shiro did so, lighting the torches that faced the center of the room. A shiver went over the swordsman, though. He wasn’t afraid of the dark, but an adventurer alone, was reckless, especially in a dark and unexplored dungeon.

The men went about the pillars, lighting the torches one by one, which gave them enough light to see each other on either ends of the room.

They met near the middle.

Shiro looked toward the center where the flooring had caved. “What do you think happened here?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps it was an earthquake.”

In the center, some statues still remained, but most had fallen away. Torches also remained, and they lit those, giving themselves ample light to see by. The statues depicted soldiers, men with spears and swords. There were chariots, and one grand-looking statue of a broad-shouldered bald man adorned with jewels.

Ali approached the statue, touched the bracelet and laughed. When he turned, his eyebrows raised. “Not guilding.”

Shiro smirked as well and together, the two adventurers must have looked like cackling villains. At least Ali did with his toothy grin.

Shiro slipped his bags off his shoulder. Inside were some of his adventuring provisions, including some water, chisels, his leather sack for holding loot, which he pulled out, and of course fresh flint and sealed dried moss to light torches or start fires.

Unfolding his bag, Shiro prepared to have it filled as Ali took the jewels off the statue.

“Very good,” he said. They were gold, valuable. But didn’t seem to be magical.

“I’m sure there are magic items here,” Shiro said.

“Oh, you’re acting like me now, my friend.”

“Like you?”

Ali smirked. “Greedy!”

The men chuckled.

“There must be more on the statues that fell down,” Shiro said, jerking his head toward the caved floor.

“I agree. Did you bring your rope?”

Shiro nodded, went back to his bag and brought he coiled rope out. “It’s here.”

Ali picked up his torch. “Where can we anchor it? Ah, there.” He pointed.

There were still some rather large statues left that hadn’t fallen. This one, of a creature Shiro had never seen before with horns and armor plating, a saddles with bowmen atop, would do nicely.

“Come, come,” Ali said, gesturing Shiro forward. They fastened the rope and Ali stalked to the ledge. “How far down do you think it goes?” He leaned and spit.

Foolish.

Shiro tossed his torch over the side. It fell. And fell, but finally hit the bottom. “Hmm. That must be sixty to seventy paces.”

“Is the rope long enough?”

Shiro looked at the coil in his hands. It was large. He thought it at least seventy to eighty paces. He tossed it down and it uncoiled as it fell.