We Start At the End

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Lillian Gray

Craft Master
Original poster
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FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Give-No-Fucks
  2. Advanced
  3. Adaptable
Genres
Fantasy, Romance, Medieval, Action, Magic, Sci-fi
We Start At the End

A one x one between Lillian Gray and redblood

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"She was killed before I knew it. Deep inside the catacombs, we never found what was said to be buried here. I believe in my heart that it was all a lie. Every time she dies in my arms, we begin anew at the alter, just before she touches that cursed thing. An innocent looking totem, with eyes of rubies so red, I fear they were made of blood. And every time, I scream for her to stop, but it's always too late.

The curse begins.

Each time begins the same way. She touches the totem, a curse is placed on her. If we don't discover a way to cure it, her body fails from the inside out, and we start back at the shrine. If she dies inside the haunted catacombs, we start back at the shrine.

There is another force at work here, something strange, even I cannot describe it. It is not the same power which binds her to death, but another that brings her back. It is my sworn duty to find this being, and I will bring her back. We will escape."
 
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Claude Bastion

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"Allies and friends are to be made and trusted, give me something to believe in and you have your ally."

Age: 28
Height: 5'10"
Eye Color: Amber

Personality: A sly little man. His words are often times false, preferring a well crafted lie to the truth when it come to dealing with anyone but those he trusts, which are few. He says much, never stops talking and thinking, but half of what he says can't be taken seriously. Most of it is crap, made up lies.

Background: Claude came from nothing, and turned it into something grand. Born of bastard claim, his father wanted nothing to do with him, being the nobleman he was. His mother raised him best she could but died in his teens. He tries not to think about her poor care. Instead of wallowing in self pity as many of the poorer did, he turned himself into a street rat and began to pick pockets for a living.

His thieving lifestyle earned him quite the reputation, and he makes a living off of 'retrieving' items.

He doesn't like to talk about his family. Not to anyone.



"What do you think is down here, hm?" As he walked, the smallish man threw daggers in the air, catching them easily as they fell back into his hand without any effort on his part. A gift from a client whose name he wouldn't provide.

It had taken the pair quite some time to delve into the catacombs, hidden beneath the earth like a gem waiting to be uncovered. The hordes and troves of gold they passed were supposedly worthless to the item they were looking for. The only problem being, they didn't really know. A wealthier man, wishing to remain anonymous like every other, had come to him late at night with a request. Bring him what lay beneath the earth and he'd pay him quite a fee, enough to retire.

Enough to retire on his own island.

It was said the catacombs were cursed, just like every other story he'd ever heard in the history of thieving. Ghosts and traps were at every turn, left and right, and there would be nowhere to hide once they were inside. Trapped among the halls, destined to ruin and rot in the ground.

What a load of shit. Claude recalled thinking. The only curse, the only tragedy, will be when the catacombs lose their gold and that some poor thief after me won't get to see my prize.

"I bet there won't be anything." He teased, continuing to play with the knife in hand. "I say that we get to the last room, and there's a little note. 'Dearest explorer, congratulations on making it thus far, we are ever so proud of you!' and that will be all, no?"

Claude was only joking of course, as he often did. What a shame it would have been if they didn't find anything. All that way for nothing. Nothing and a few piles of gold on the way out. It wasn't so bad, but, the island certainly sounded a touch more pleasant.

"Now come on!" He whirled around and waved his arms at his partner. "Or we'll never get there."​
 
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Age: 26
height: 5'3
Eye color: Green (different from picture)

History:
Rose Teresa Tyler was raised by her father Jensen Tyler. During her childhood she more often than not lived on the street, as her father rarely had any money. While her father tried to make an honest living and stayed away from a life of crime, Rose fast realized that they wouldn't be able to survive that way. They often fell asleep hungry and woke up frozen.

In her early years, she started to steal things like bread, fruits, or on rare occasions even money. She did lie to her father when he asked her about the things she came home with, usually she told him that someone had given them to her since they pitied her. Since she were a hungry and poor child, her father did believe that people would take such pity on her.

Eventually her father succumbed to a sickness when Rose was only twelve years old. After that stealing became an everyday necessity for survival as no one had any job for a twelve year old girl. Eventually she was caught by a shop owner and taken to the police. They left her in the care of a nunnery, from which she ran away when she was fifteen. After that she started to work with a man named Björn, a Swedish traveler whom made a living out of finding treasures and selling them to other people. After some years with him, gaining the experiences she needed, she went off alone. Her work was pretty much the same as when she had worked with Björn, but she did bring a lot of her findings to the black market, which he had never done. Also she started to take client requests, which was something Björn had been heavily against, as he thought it more adventurous to just search and hopefully find. Rose did not like the uncertainty that mindset brought, thus she went further and further away from it.

Eventually she met Claude, and after having done a job together on a clients request, they soon teamed up in more and more work.


Walking past all the treasures was almost painful. They could probably get all the money they needed if they just took the gold. But instead they had to search after some item without even knowing what it was. What if they took the wrong thing? Would they have to go back to search again? What if what they searched for was the sword decorated with rubies that leaned on one of the walls? Then they had already passed it.

But they knew that it should be further inside. Poor soul that got lost inside of those catacombs. Rose just hoped they could get out of there as fast as possible. At least it was a simple job. Get in, take what you need, get out. The hard part had been to find the opening.

"I do hope it's something good, or else I'll push this worthless gold into his throat." She hissed, obviously not in a very good mood. "At least we can be sure not to get out empty handed if it happens to be a fraud." She then sighed, and started to walk towards her excited colleague. There was so much gold. How could that treasure be worth so much more than all of that? It shouldn't be that hard to imagine actually. But since they did know that they had gold where they walked, and they couldn't be completely certain if the treasure they were searching for actually existed, it did feel like they were missing out on something. As if it would be a trick for them to find the opening, walk passed the gold and find a note saying 'tricked you' and once they went back all the gold would be gone.

"Maybe it's a mummy. They're connected with curses." She proposed. Hopefully it wasn't. Not only were they fragile as hell, but it took such a time to carry them out. She hadn't tried it herself as she hadn't gotten such a job yet, but she knew some guys that had been down in a pharaoh's tomb. Once the archaeologists had figured out that someone had stolen the mummy, they were pretty pissed off. It had made a lot on the black market.

"Can you imagine how it would feel like to be trapped in here? What would take you first? Starvation or suffocation?" Such macabre topics usually entered her mind when walking in such depressing places. It was always people dying in tunnels like that, usually because of it collapsing. "I would probably take my own life before any of it happened. It would go so much faster, and be less psychologically damaging." Rose then added. Of course she would wait until she was certain there was no way out, and that no one could save her. But if all other options were futile, then she would rather make sure that she was in control of when she died and lived. She'd rather die by her own hands than to disappear slowly and painfully. But maybe it wouldn't be as simple once she got to that moment.
 
"Oh, non, ma petite Rose." Claude clicked his tongue, his nickname for her, a little rose, probably bothered her the more he said it. "You would leave me behind? How cruel, I would suffer such tragic heartache without you." He smirked, walking backwards so she could see the look on his face.

"Although, I have dealt with mummies before. They are not worth the trouble." The thief shook his head and reverted his stance so he could face down yet another dark tunnel. He was tired of those, the long winding spires which led them deeper into the earth. At the entrance, it was easy to think that there was only a few chambers. A hidden panel took them down, Claude was hardly sure they were still in the same area, they had to have been miles and miles away from where they'd originally entered.

He finally hit the ground, surprised to find cut stone beneath his feet and a torch waiting to be lit. Claude picked out one, pulling a flint from his pocket to get it lit, his smile lighting along with the torch as he could finally see the iron door in front of him. There was a phrase etched onto the front, but, in a language he didn't understand. French and English, that was the extent of his understanding.

French was the language of love, he'd often say, and it was all he needed.

"Rose!" He called her name. "I found something."​
 
Rose rolled her eyes. That nickname became more and more irritating the more he said it. But if she told him to stop calling her that, he would most likely do it even more often. She didn't care which language it was said in, no one should call her little. Especially not a guy who was shorter than her.

"Don't worry, if we were trapped down here together then I would make sure to kill you first. Eating you would give me at least a month if there's enough air." She told him teasingly as he turned around towards the dark tunnel. How far down were they? She was amazed over the fact that they could still breath. No wonder no one wanted to take this job, this was a damn death trap.

Following him a bit behind into the darkness, she probably took a bit more cautious steps as she always seemed to get much behind him. Which was weird, since he had much shorter legs than her. Only a maniac would run in that darkness, but knowing Claude she shouldn't be too surprised by it. Then a torch was lit. So they did find something useful finally.

As she walked closer, a bit faster now when she saw a light, she heard him calling. He found something? The treasure? But no, when she came close enough it was a big iron door with letters engraved into it in some weird language.

"Ma petite Claude can't read it I assume?" She asked, figuring it wasn't written in French. If it had been Swedish or Norwegian then maybe she could have gotten some words as her old friend Björn had taught her a bit, but this seemed to be something else. "It probably just says something about a curse and a treasure, like every door towards doom and devastation." She joked and laid a hand on it. "Let's open it. We wouldn't want to embarrass ourselves by going back with our pockets full of nothing else but gold." She snickered before trying to force the door open.
 
"Ah, so you cannot read it either!" He gasped in mock surprise, waggling a finger in her direction to show his disapproval.

Claude combed a hand through his hair, watching her try to pry open the door with nothing but brute force. He was considered an average height for a man, she nearly a head shorter, and watching her go at the door like a beast was entertaining. So he sat back, checked his hands for scrapes, and then finally gave the door a final kick. It swung open and an eerie gust of air greeted both their faces, smelling of death and decay.

"How quaint." He noted sarcastically. "I would let you go first, but I have a bit of pride and respect knowing my hot air will keep you alive for a time. Please, allow me."

He took the first step inside and was instantly greeted by the skeleton of a man knelt against the door. His clothes suggested he was from another time entirely, more like rags draped around his shoulders compared to the fine leather he wore as armor. The French man picked up his hand and shook it, trying to hide the look of shock on his face.

"It would seem the locals have come to greet us."​
 
"Show of." Rose muttered as her companion kicked open the door she had tried so hard to push open. She wasn't very strong, her ability lied in agility instead. She backed a few steps as a horrible stench hit them. Now they knew they were close to the treasure. The more death, the more traps. The more traps, the closer to the goal. She held a hand over her mouth and nose, trying to breath in her own body odor instead. It only worked for a few seconds.

"That will probably kill me hours faster." She remarked at his comment. But it wasn't like they weren't used to it. They had entered places smelling just as bad before. That did not mean they would ever get used to it though. Slightly disapproving, Rose followed him inside.

"Be careful Claude. Disrespect the dead and they may come back to haunt you." She said and made some ghost like sounds. "Hurry up now, I want to get out of here before he asks us to join their family." She then told him while pulling on his shirt. Cautiously she looked in front of her without seeing much.

"Do you think there's any traps in front? The door might have had some kind of warning."
 
Claude stopped her dead in her tracks and sniffed the air uncertainly. It smelled...familiar in some way, but he couldn't place his finger on what it was. Proceeding into the dark didn't bode well for his lighthearted humor, and for once in his life, he stopped talking. Nimble hands moved to his pockets and he pulled out a well worn handkerchief. The man tied it around his face, and pulled for another so Rose could do the same.

"I do not like the smell." He told her, extending the cloth her way. "Please, cover your face, else we may very well join the dead. This smell is no good."

As for traps? Of course. He almost felt her a fool for asking. This place was dark, hard to get to, there were surely traps even in the darkest of cells. Claude sidestepped her to bring his torch to the front, staring down a long set of stairs. He took one extra step for good measure, holding out the light when he heard a loud slam behind them. The door!

"There is our first trap, ma petite." He growled unhappily. "Surely, we have made it then, come."

No point in turning back now, they'd have to find another way out. Claude wasn't about to wrestle with a locked door, not when there was still treasure to be found. The work could come later, when they were on their way out as rich men.​
 
Poison in the air huh? It wasn't too surprising when one thought about it, but she had imagined more visible means of killing their intruders. Like spikes falling down from the ceiling. Rose covered her face, knowing she shouldn't argue with him when he was being serious. Even with a handkerchief to breath in, it wouldn't keep them from dying if that was the reason for the poison. It would only slow the process down. Hopefully enough for them to get out of the risk zone.

A slam was suddenly heard loud and clearly behind them. Rose turned around startled just to see the door being shut closed. That door would probably not be opened any time soon. Not from their end at least.

"Don't growl at me. I didn't lay out the traps." She complained, walking after him down the dark stairs. "We could have ditched the job and taken all the gold we wanted closer to the surface, but no. Mister greedy wanted an island. I swear, if we get out of here I'll get myself another partner." Slightly irritated after the long walk and being trapped inside the dark with an awful stench surrounding them, she blurted out things she didn't particularly mean. Even though she and Claude fought a bit now and then, he was the funniest guy she had ever met, and the best partner.
 
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"Non, that is true. I set no trap, nor did you." He agreed, shrugging his shoulders with the torch carefully held in his hand. "However, there are more women in the world with more..." Claude gave her a look, top, to bottom, then back up, settling near her chest before grinning. "Voluptuous ladies."

The part before them was easy to get to, this was the real place the thief wanted to be. Deep inside the old ruins to find whatever prize was supposed to land him an island. No one else, hopefully, knew about this place and they could come back to loot it time and time again. Or, they could loot everything in one go and spend their days relaxing on a beach somewhere West of France. Claude always wanted to go back.

The steps eventually stopped, and they found themselves at a small clearing. A simple room with doors on every side. One where they came from, two on either side, and one directly in front of them which yielded no hope at opening. A large bar was welded across to keep intruders out. Or perhaps, he thought, something needed to be kept in.

"Here, we stop for a while, start a map." He instructed, peering up at the ceiling to check for ventilation. If they were lucky, they could try to start a fire, have a base camp before they got too far ahead of themselves.​
 
Rose sighed and rolled her eyes. "I don't care how sexy Frenchmen or their accents are, with that attitude you'll never get laid." She told him. Sadly it was far from the truth. Most women would fawn over him just by hearing his voice. Women were a bit crazy like that. But she had things she couldn't resist too. Hopefully no one would figure them out and use them against her.

As they walked down the stairs, she had to hold onto the wall as she was afraid she would sleep on the small steps. Claude seems a bit more confident in his footing though. Finally they came down to a new room with four exits. Or three for them, as the door was shut closed from where they had come. The door in front of them didn't seem very approachable, as it was closed hard with a large bar. That wouldn't be lifted away too easily. But maybe that was where the treasure was hidden.

"I do hope that treasure's worth it. We'll probably fall into the earths core if we continue further down." She said as she pulled out some paper from her bag and marked the possible routs. "What do you think are behind those doors? The treasure? Or a curse waiting to suck the life out of us." She smirked as she looked curiously towards the door. What was hidden behind it? It was tempting to open it up, but considering how much energy it would take them just to prey it open, if they were able to at all, it might be better to start with their alternatives. That door might just be there to make sure that the attention was drawn away from the real door towards the treasure.
 
"The friend in my pants begs to differ." Claude offered up before finally settling in.

There had to be at least some ventilation somewhere, because as Claude set the fire, the smoke rose and up out of the room. That was satisfying enough. He dropped his packs and pulled out some sort of rodent he'd found earlier, it looked decent enough to eat. The man skinned it, throwing aside what he didn't need and set up what little meat it had over the fire. He needed a few minutes to regain himself before delving further into the catacombs.

"Come, sit, we have time yet to discover what lays beyond." Claude pulled the mask from his face so he could take a swig from his canteen. "Two doors, which first?"​
 
"You're damn lucky. If there hadn't been ventilation we would have suffocated in here by now." She noted as the smoke rose into the ceiling and disappeared to who knew where. She sat down in front of him, watching the meat slowly getting some color.

"Oh sure. Let me choose and you can lay the guilt on me if it's the wrong one." She told him jokingly. "I say that one." Rose then said and pointed towards the door on her left side. "Everyone always choose the right side door because it sounds right, at least if you speak English." Never go with the flow, because the people building the traps probably knows which way the flow will go. On the other hand, the chances of the builders actually speaking English was next to zero. It was most likely built long before the English language had existed. Plus, the writing on the door did give away that they weren't Englishmen. So whichever door they chose might be right or wrong.

"I wonder why the people who lived here made such a fuzz with traps and such. I mean, they don't really need their gold once they're dead."
 
"Maybe it was not their choice." Claude said thoughtfully. "They have found mummies with servants as well, perhaps this...civilization? Perhaps they, too, wanted to be buried with all the things they once held dear in life."

The idea wasn't far fetched. Egyptian Pharaohs were often laid to rest with more than they'd found in the entrance halls. People were buried with them to keep them safe, so they might have servants in the next life. More than gold, treasures, books, knowledge, all their organs. Such strange superstitions were only a few countries away and it wasn't impossible to think that the information had traveled some thousand years ago.

"If you want to go left, we can, but I do not believe these people spoke English. The joke is lost."

Claude waited another minute for the strange rodent creature to cook before pulling it away from the fire, splitting it up as best he could and skewering it on the end of his knife. He passed the blade to her, hilt side her way, and waited for her to accept the small meal before picking at the rest himself.​
 
"I doubt we'll have any use for anything we hold dear in the next life. It's not like a heap of gold have a soul that can be transported to the other side." Rose mentioned as she looked down on the piece of paper in her hand. Too bad no one cared to actually map the catacombs, that would have saved them a lot of time.

"As long as we're speaking English, the joke is not lost. And I doubt it matters whichever we take, as we know nothing about the culture, the language or their way of thinking. That's why my reasoning is as good as any random guess. Either of them might lead us to death or treasures." She told him as she accepted the food. Lucky she had grown up on the street, otherwise their lunch might have disgusted her to the point of not eating at all. She wasn't too picky. There had been times when she had been forced to catch and eat rats because of lack of money. She had gotten sick because of it a few times, they weren't the most hygienic specie. But lucky she never contracted anything extreme from them.

"I do hope we find it soon. I'm starting to feel slightly claustrophobic down here." She mumbled before taking her first bite. Rose didn't have anything against small places, but being trapped underground did scare her a little bit as she couldn't know how much air there was or if the place would fall in on them eventually. But the catacombs had hold themselves up for this long, she doubted they would fall in on them just like that. Some more hours and they would find their way out with a treasure that would make them rich. If it existed. Otherwise some heaps of gold could give them at the very least some years of comfortable living.
 
"What, even with all the hot air coming out of my mouth?" Claude teased, taking a slow bite of the rodent. "You said it would last you a month, so, now I continue to speak to help us both survive."

He watched the fire for a while. Noting still how the room stayed clear of fog. An odd trick it would seem, either the catacombs were well ventilated. Was it thought out? Were they, the old civilization, so intelligent or was he over thinking the design? In any case, he appreciated the open walls which allowed a fire to be made deep in the earth, which allowed them in turn to have small meals permitting they could find something to eat.

"Get some rest. We will resume in the morning, good?" He nodded his head towards her. He'd made the decision of bringing a small watch with them, but, it couldn't tell him whether it was morning or night. All he knew is that the time was nearing eleven. Morning or night, it seemed like a good time to shut their eyes.​
 
"Your breath will probably kill me faster." Rose argued and held her hand over her nose as if something was stinking. But then she continued to eat and left their little back and forward bullying trip. Some moments of peace was always appreciated after a long day of walking and working. It was definitely not the hardest job she had ever had, but it was among the top of very unpleasant experiences.

They could at the very least breath. And seeing how the smoke was led out somewhere there shouldn't be a shortage of air.

"Good luck waking me up. Without sunlight it's almost impossible." She smirked at him before finishing biting of the last pieces of meat. "Let's hope we can find that treasure tomorrow. Or at least an exit." She murmured while lying down on the hard ground. Falling asleep was never a problem for her though. Once she decided to sleep it took her minutes to be completely gone.
 
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"Then I will breathe into your face, and your body will know to awaken." He teased, exhaling heavily to prove his disgusting point. It's not as if the man had time to take care of his teeth, or the breath which smelled of burnt rodent.

Still, he waited for her to fall asleep. An hour later he himself drifted off, satisfied at least knowing they were sealed inside. There was no danger to them so long as two of their exits were blocked off. No one would come for them here, not really. With that comfort in his mind, and only because of that, was he able to fall asleep without taking a watch of any kind. When he woke, he was pleasantly surprised to find her still asleep.

He didn't breathe in her face like he teased. Poking at the fire, he debated whether or not to start it up again. His curiosity was aching for him to go through one of the doors, but he resisted. Leaving Rose behind was as good as walking into a wall of spikes. She'd kill him if anything interesting happened, and it would've been his own damn fault. Instead, he paced up to the first new door. It was locked tight, and the closer he looked, the more it looked as if the very metal of the door had been welded on years later. The stone room suggested it to be the most likely of cases, but why?

Who would leave all that treasure, and only come back to melt iron over a door?​
 
"What a ydoin?" Rose mumbled sleepily, not able to talk properly on wake up. At least she had been able to practice away her bad habit of speaking in Norwegian every time she woke up. It had always taken her a few minutes to realize that people couldn't understand her at all. While she didn't speak the language fluently, she had learned certain phrases from Björn. What are you doing? How's it going? Hello. I'm fine. Stop that. I'm sleeping. And such things.

Claude were at the door for some reason, seemingly examining it. She rubbed her eyes and sat and up yawning loudly. "D'ya thin the somethin ood ba the?" K, r and g seemed very difficult to pronounce when tired. She must have sounded like a little child trying to say their first sentence. She barely even noticed she wasn't talking properly, and once people pointed it out she rarely believed them. It was just as when people told her she had snored, which apparently happened on occasions, she just refused to believe it, saying girls don't snore.
 
"You make no sense in your tired state, ma petite Rose." He told her, pinching his chin between his fingers in a thoughtful look. "It is all a dream, and when you wake, I will have broken my fist on this door."

He was about ready to do it. Nothing, not a single thought allowed him to reason as to why anyone would bar the door with iron. He'd touched it, chipped at the metalwork with his small knife, and there were no secrets revealed to him in that time. Claude had seen locked doors before, but an entire metal coat? Something was behind it and he wanted to know what.

"But, tell me, if you had to hide something, would you cover it in metal?"​
 
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