"I got legs yah know."
Was the only quip Venrid managed before the ground beneath him abruptly gave way. Met suddenly with the sensation of falling through air and over taken by darkness, he shouted on the way down before flipping in his disorder to land on hard pieces of cobble below. Knocking wind out of him with a wheeze and doing a number on his back. He froze a moment after impact before rolling over to return to his feet. Clutching his lower spine despite doing nothing for the pain, the place abyss around him suddenly began to light up.
" Heh... Gotta be daft to sleep on tha fucker fer fifteen years. Yah?" He said looking up to the hole he had just fell through.
Grinning, he took in the various decorated carvings on the wall and the mason work features preserved for centuries. Much like walking into a medieval dungeon from the pristine streets of the Fraulian Kingdom, it was a bit of a sensory shock. Accompanied by high ceilings and wide corridors the group after a short scuffle due to the means of entrance, soon encountered a strange pedestal that was swiftly shattered to pieces by the dimwitted green skin. Making way for the boulder up top as it bound for them, Venrid was the only one who hid, choosing a small crevice of the hall. After the coast was clear and stumbling upon the trove of treasure behind the other two, he shouldered past and remarked.
"Well, seems yah weren't lying old man. Looka dis shit. ... Right small fortune it is! Haha"
Starting to dig before the others could make for it, he quickly grabbed a jeweled scimitar that had somehow weathered the centuries in a dusty golden scabbard. Slipping it through a loop in his clothing he started to hunt for rings, any with large jewels. Finding several and a necklace with a giant diamond, he tore his gloves off and adorned his hands and neck. Crafting several makeshift coin purses from scraps of cloth and vines from above he loaded them to their bursting point before tying the mounds of golden florin to his waist. Satisfied with the haul he turned to leave, but stopped at the old man's corpse. Heeding the word of the Ork, he didn't go for his grown as his senses told him there was something off about it as well. However, the rather dull shield at his feet he did pick up as a souvenir, to the old man's annoyance.
"Hold on there sir. That is of historical importance, it must be given to the Museum and preserved for the written records."
"I told yah this already yah bag o bones. Taking what I want and this shield is mine less you wonna take it from meh. Hmm?"
With a glare and fierce tone in his voice, the old man backed off without another word. Choosing to take a hurt expression and look to what was left of the treasure room. His eyes watered a bit before a wry smile cracked the wrinkled folds of his mouth. Taking another few looks around and clasping his hands together, it hit him with a nod that the last fifteens some odd years of his life had amounted up to what was before him.
"I-I'll be with you two gentleman shortly."
Choosing to stay behind and go over the things and search for the rest of the ruins, it was a good hour before the three of them met up and left for the Lughanta. Dropping the old man off on his back after a half way trek of carrying him. Venrid was the first and only to spend the rewards of the haul after a few troublesome hours in the kitchen with the Ork's cooking. Laving the cooking crew and several mercs impressed and wanting more. He slinked out back to Kingdom of Fraulia, and found his way back to the pub he had visited just a few days earlier. Surprising the red headed waitress from before with the biggest diamond she'd ever lain eyes on.
The following moments lead up to a long night with the woman in tow with several others. Mostly local thieves and the criminal sort, but also a few of the pubs regulars. After making a fortune on the Scimitar and rings, Venrid ended up buying a lot of land within the city. Turning the rather modest local into a den for music and drinking. He hired a few bards to play the whole night before taking to the streets in a ton of fowl play. The moderately drunken lot caused a roar among the peaceful nightlife of the city before facing trouble from the on duty guardsmen. Fitting Venrid for his earlier crimes, the giddy Merc tried to bribe the man to let things be, only to realize soon after that he took the money only to call in for back up.
Turning into a bloody mess on a scale larger than the last time. He was forced to flee for the docks yet again and leave all but a single purse of golden florin behind. Content with that and the fun he'd managed, it was only much later that his mood was dampened by the realization that the purse was empty, having been shot through with an arrow. Cursing his luck as his habit was too, all that remained of the wealthy adventure was the shield he'd left aboard the ship and the hazy memories that followed.
