Unexpected

“Well, well, well.”

The slow, far too satisfied voice that echoed quietly across from the entrance to the burial chamber was all too familiar. Mouth full of several different lock picks, Risala sighed and rolled her eyes to the heavens before focusing back on her work.

“Either you’ve upgraded to robbing better tombs, or you’ve grown more ambitious,” the man commented as he approached at a leisurely stroll. “Either way, this is a pleasant surprise.”

A smug smile on her face as the first lock on the great chest clicked, Risala took the picks from her mouth and licked her lips as she shifted to kneel more directly before the second lock. “‘Robbing’ is such a dirty word. And, yes. You were expecting someone else?”

“I was, that.”

Risala chuffed a rich laugh as she stuck a pick back between her teeth. “You thought Vix was going to be here, didn’t you, Havald?”

Havald’s steps hesitated, and Risala could feel him scowling at her back. “How do you know about Vix?”

Still laughing quietly, Risala jimmied with the lock for a moment before a second satisfying click could be heard. “She and I met up a few days ago. Switched our targets.” She then looked over her shoulder with a devilish smile. “Vix didn’t mention you, though.”

Flustered, Havald tried to shrug off his disappointment as he pretended to dust his gloves off. “That sounds like her.” She could feel him watching her again before he went back to surveying the various corners of the room littered with bones. “Been a long time since you and I’ve crossed paths.”

Risala scrunched up her nose as she focused on struggling with the third lock. Her luck with locks had always been touch and go. “Has it?”

“Hmmm…” he rumbled, meandering closer to watch her work. “And, if memory serves, I was the one picking locks, then.”

“It was gracious of you go open that chest for me,” Risala hummed.

Havald scoffed a short breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Just no leaving me behind next time, eh? Took me a fair bit to get down from that trap of yours.”

The final lock clicked free, and Risala rocked back to stand, taking her time in putting her picks away. “It’s called character building.”

“It’s called you’re a dick.”

Risala smirked unashamedly at him as she walked to one end of the stone chest. “Then you’ll be happy to hear that I’ve turned a new leaf.”

Havald smirked back at her. “Would it work if I said you’re not a book, but a fine wine?”

“If you were someone else, Havald, then maybe. But you’ll have to slake your thirst somewhere else,” she replied. “I’m sure Vix is having leagues of fun over in the delve she’s rummaging through. But since you’re here, mind pretending to be a nice guy for a minute and giving me a hand with this lid?”

“You’re asking the greatest adventurer and swordsman in all of Morrowind for help with a lid?” 

Risala fixed him with a cheeky smirk. “No. I’m asking you.”

The man blinked several times before sputtering a chuckle and rubbing his hands together. “A ‘nice guy’ can’t say no to that. Ready?” he asked as he found a decent hold on the edge.

Nodding, Risala wiggled her fingers under the lip to get a good grasp and braced her feet. “Ready… lift!”

In unison the two hefted the stone top off of the chest, and turned it over to lie on the ground to one side. Then rising up, they cautiously peered into the container.

“Hey! Maybe Vix passing me off to you was a lucky break!” Havald declared as he surveyed the riches covering the bottom of the chest. “You’re not gonna break my nose if I take the wrong thing, are you?”

Risala chuckled, glancing around cautiously as she put on an casual air when surveying the glittering contents of the chest. “I’m just here for a payday.”

“With you? That could mean any number of things,” Havald snorted. Nonetheless, he pulled an empty sack from a pocket, and began to fill it with gold coins, and bobbles, and trinkets.

She let him start rummaging first. When nothing happened, the Dunmer reached in and began selecting items, apparently at random. The tome she’d came for, an elegant silver collar she would have to have checked before she could wear it, a sealed orb and a fat purse sitting beside it….

“Anyone tell you that you have weird taste in treasure?”

Risala looked up to shoot Havald a wry smile. “The stranger the find, the more potential payout.”

He seemed to chew thoughtfully her words as he stood up. Sack slung over his shoulder, Havald leaned to rest his arm on a ledge. “You know, there’s a nice little place back –”

“Havald, no!” Risala shouted at him as his weight pressed down on the stone. The man jolted upright, but it was too late. A heavy grinding sound echoed out from behind the walls as unseen weights rose. Pale blue lights flickered to live along the walls, and with each one the bones on the floor shuddered and gathered and slowly rose.

“Ris… Ris, you didn’t tell me!” Havald softly accused as the two of them began gravitating back towards the exit.

“I only assumed Morrowind’s greatest adventurer would know better,” she replied through gritted teeth.

Nostrils flaring, the man groped at his hip for the hilt of his sword. “So what now?”

“We run, of course,” came her crisp reply as she slowly cinched her own rucksack shut. They were nearly to the door, but every empty-eyed skull turned towards the pair.

“Run? You run?” Havald asked, not caring to hide his nervousness as the two bumped into the stone door frame and each other. The skeletons shifted in unison, and with unearthly shrieks lunged at the doorway.

Eyes wide, Risala threw out her hand, a sphere of daylight exploded in the space between them and the undead. “Yes! Run!”