A Delve in the Crypt

I

Empties-Your-Pockets held a ruby up to the torch sconce, eyeing his prize gleefully. The gemstone was easily larger than the palm of his reptilian hand. He slid the jewel into an inner pocket of his vest as he moved to examine another burial urn.

"What did I tell you, Lantus?" The Argonian exclaimed. "Easier pickings than we've had in eight whole years!"

Lantus Axius was busy trying to decide which ring should go on which of his fingers.

Empties-Your-Pockets went on, "I think I'll even buy myself some real clothing, the nice stuff with the fox fur. The best part is I'll be able to wear it around town because it wasn't stolen!"

Lantus looked at his friend's current garbs: an old, ragged, long-sleeve tunic and vest, and rough cow-leather trousers—all custom-sewn with hidden pockets. They may look like rags, but they were more valuable to a thief than the expensive robes would be.

He looked down at his own outfit—most of which he had taken from a bandit camp in Eastmarch. He wore animal fur boots and gauntlets to keep his hands and feet warm in the blizzards that often blew through. They also aided in keeping his fingers limber for picking locks. He wore a set of hide armor over a tunic similar to Pockets';with the exception of the vest and that many of his folds were filled with picks.

"And we aren't all that deep in the crypt, either," the Argonian lowered his voice dramatically. "I hear the ancient Nords carved their likenesses in blocks of solid gold—can you imagine?"

In the end, Lantus had to agree: the rich clan that was buried here seemed to have gathered too much wealth to know what to do with. He had already found three gold necklaces. He held one up to his partner and asked, "What do you think of this? Suppose Naalia would like it?"

"Not this again—"

"What?"

"You're always going on about that Aretino girl. Naalia this and Naalia that."

Lantus smirked, "What about you, Pockets? Haven't even made a move on that tavern girl yet." The other scowled at this and stalked off to the other side of the room. "I'm even thinking of having it engraved," the Imperial went on. "Som'ng like 'Your love is the wealth of my heart.'"

The Argonian snorted, "You're going to make me puke," and began moving aside the broken pottery, scouring the floor beneath for stray septims.

Lantus was flipping through a book, burned beyond recognition, when his partner exclaimed, "Hey, there's a hole in the wall. It looks like an opening to another room, come 'ere." Lantus made his way across the cold, stone chamber and over the cracked remains of urns to discover that there was, indeed, a small, semicircular hole in the wall.

"What'son the other side?" he asked.

"Seems like a similar room to this one—ooh, there's a shrine here; Nords always offer precious stones to their gods. I bet I can squeeze...through...here...." The Argonian went in head-first,arms outstretched to slim the shoulders. He wiggled and scooted his way along the stone in a fashion that reminded Lantus of a snake. Eventually, He made it all the way through and stuck his head under from the other side. "You comin'?" He asked.

Lantus never got a chance to answer. Just then, they heard voices echoing off the walls near them. Both of the thieves froze, trying to place which hallway the sound was coming from.

The two spoke quickly.

"They've already went through this side," Lantus observed.

"Agreed," Pockets answered in a hushed tone, "they're coming my way."

"Protocol?"

"'If one of us're caught, the other was never here.'"

"'And if only I make it out, I'll raise you a beer.'"