Bloodsworn

Chapter 2.20 Old gifts

20.

“This is cozy,” Sammus quipped. The prince had to watch himself as he walked, the top of the tunnel bare inches from his head. Nevia’s slightly shorter frame allowed her to move easier. Erak was bent nearly in half as he tried to traverse the tunnel.

Here it was rough hewn stone supported by rune carved wooden bracing. The old wood was near petrified and blackened with age. Erak ran a single finger over the wood and felt how firm and dense it was, nearly as strong as the stone it supported.

A rusted and dust coated lantern hung on a peg and when Nevia grabbed it and cleaned off the glass it revealed a single piece of clear crystal in it. She ran a finger over it and Erak felt the tug of Essence running out of the soldier. A moment later the crystal flared to life with soft blue light.

Nevia cleaned the glass further and then handed the lantern over to Sammus and waved her hand forward and into the depths.

“Fear not, chivalry lives on in me,” Sammus said bitterly. He pulled his sword out and kept it aimed straight forward as he marched forward partially crouched. Nevia and Pomp were only a few feet behind while Erak was bent in half as he walked forward following the blue light of the lantern. With how low the ceiling was it would keep him from being combat effective.

Another two hours went by as they kept walking. The tension slowly drained away and left them with nothing more than boredom. No sounds came from the tunnels aside from the occasional click of a rock that echoed down the tunnels. Sammus kept a continuous stream of muttered curses and derogatory statements about the bravery of Imperial officers.

“Erak, we’re here. I think,” Sammus said. The change in the tunnels had come suddenly, the plain tunnels suddenly widening and a pair of shattered stone doors lay broken open leading into a wide hall. Dust and cobwebs clung across the entirety of the hall, the tables had become petrified like the tunnel braces.

Sammus walked further in and spun the lantern around revealing more of the great hall. A throne sat at the end of the rectangular hall, formed of stone with golden leaf outlining the head of the throne like a sunburst. Frayed and falling apart tapestries hung and blocked the far wall. Erak straightened up and felt his spine creak as he stood to his full height.

“Where’s the vault at?” Nevia asked as she looked at the map. Pomp leapt up onto the table, a wave of dust bloomed up and around himself as he walked down the length of the banquet table. Metal platters and chalices fell over as the careless dragon knocked over the utensils as he sniffed loudly. The ring of the metal on the stone floors was loud and rang out loudly. Erak stopped and looked over at the dragon and Pomp turned to look at him. They met eyes and Erak felt a pulse of shame pulse through their bond but Pomp hopped off the table and kept walking.

“Behind the throne. That’s where I’d put my treasures. Right behind where I sit down,” Sammus said. He bounded down the hall and turned around the edge of the massive throne and looked behind the falling apart tapestries.

“Found it!” Sammus yelled behind toward the others. Erak glanced back and over his shoulder at the shattered and open doors. It was the only way out of the hall that he could see.

“Nevia, I need the key!” Sammus said as he poked his head out from the tapestries and shoved an open hand toward him. Nevia had wandered to the side of the hall and was cleaning off more of the lanterns, igniting the crystals inside and banishing the shadows from the hall.She wandered over and handed it to him before returning back to look at the vault.

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Erak looked over the vault for the first time. It was a solid slab of black iron with a single hole in the center. There were no hinges to see or even a single line where the door met the wall. Only the single small oval hole.

Sammus placed the key into the oval and slid it in. He wiggled the key and there was a deep thunk as something turned inside of the vault door. Erak and Sammus stood there waiting for a moment, but nothing happened.

“Wiggle it some more?” Erak signed with one hand as Sammus looked confused. The prince did as Erak suggested, moving the key about until there was a second thunk of tumblers moving around. Air hissed free as the seams of the vault became visible, the door beginning to sing open with a loud screech of rusted hinges that echoed out of hall.

Erak froze and turned back to look at the broken open door and what lay beyond in the dark. One-hundred-and-twelve heartbeats later he looked away from the broken banquet hall door and back towards the vault. The signs of decay hadn’t reached the hall.

It had been hermetically sealed with not even dust being able to enter the treasure vault. Erak reached inside the gloom and found a hanging lantern and reached inside to turn the lantern on. The moment his bare skin touched the smooth faceted crystal he felt a tug on his Essence and a bright white light burst forth to reveal the interior of the vault.

It was nearly the same size as the banquet hall and was stuffed with wealth. Wall to wall it was covered in weapons, armor, precious metals, and valuable jewels. It all glittered brightly under the lanterns' bright light and even Erak felt his breath hitch at the accumulated wealth of a dwarven clan. That and the massive warhammer that rested on a pair of pegs in the back.

Sammus was happily crying as he ran his hands over a crown of mythril and rubies, then touching a long single sided blade that no dwarf would have used. Erak walked straight past it all, including a small pile of blue-white metal ingots that emanated a chill, and went to the hammer.

It was built for him or those of his bloodlines. Heavier than any human could wield and taller than any dwarf could easily swing. It was the same blue metal with white speckles that glittered under the lanterns light. Eighteen inches long and four wide with the back of it ending in a narrow spike and the front being a wide flat head. The haft was made of white, bleached, bone carved with the careful, elegant glyphs that the giants had gifted their lesser kin.

“What is that?” Sammus asked, pointing at the bone. Erak ripped his gaze away from the hammerhead and toward the haft of the hammer. He ran his finger along its length and felt the chill of it, Essence slowly waking as the doors of the vault let power rush into the room.

“Leviathan bone. Deep dwellers in the Ice Sea. Giants fish for them on the floes,” Erak signed. At least that was the myth that they had passed around to each other. None had risked going that far North to risk the Eternal Storm to see if it was true.

Erak picked up the hammer and grunted in surprise at the weight of it. Even with the growth of his stats it took a surprising amount of strength to wield it. It was a two handed great-hammer though and he was wielding it with one.

“Erak! I hear something out here,” Nevia warned and Pomp’s snarl a heartbeat a moment later warned him that Nevia wasn’t wrong. The march of feet and the clink of metal was coming toward them, growing louder and louder. Erak threw the hammer over his shoulder and walked out of the vault and looked toward the open doors, ready to test out his new weapon.

Giant’s Gift- Ancient

Coldforged Iron and Leviathan Bone crafted with Ancient magiks from the Elder Race. A sign of peace, a weapon that could not be wielded by either race of the peace treaty.

+5 Strength

Ability- Weight of Peace: The density of the hammer triples once a day.