They stood there facing the intricately carved wooden door. They could see the fallen god's face, bisected at the center of the double doors, wicked teeth smiling, or grimacing.
"What's behind door number one?" Lars said into the darkness.
"My money's on it being a goat." Brady replied in a dry tone.
Captain Jack peered into the darkness behind them. The rickety rope bridge disappeared just outside of the group's circle of light. No movement. No sound. But then again, those... creatures could be on you in a moment's notice and you wouldn't even know it. "Lars, take a looksie at the door's lock, would you please? Jesus, help me watch our rear."
"On it, Cap'." Jesus agreed.
The sounds of Lars and Brady screwing around with the lock mechanism seemed almost like gunshots in the complete silence of the tomb. Still no signs of trouble from the back of the chamber.
"Two things, Captain." Lars said dusting his gloved hands off upon each other, "The lock had been recently screwed with before we got here. Second, we jimmy'd it open."
"Your welcome." Brady interjected towards Lars, who gave him an indifferent shrug, but with a sarcastic smile."
They turned to face the doorway.
"Ready?" Asked Brady. He then attempted to kick the door open. It's impact was momentarily deafening. The heavy door rattled in it's frame, but still it remained closed. The fallen god's expression seemed to mock them.
Seconds later, Brady pulled at a carved wooden handle. The door opened out, towards them.
"Sorry." Brady muttered.
"Careful, Lars." Jack said. Lars nodded his response, then reached into the room with his torch. His head followed, and his initial scan showed no one, or thing waiting just behind the door or in the space near it. He took a cautious step forward, and caught a glimpse of something...
Gold?
His body moved forward, almost robotically, as curiosity overruled caution. The warm glow of the torch revealed...
The plundered riches of a treasure hoard lie before you. A quick scan of the room reveals piles of golden and silver coins spilling over ancient baskets. Statues, urns, weapons, musical instruments, ancient chests, and many objects still buried among the coins and other items. Some sparkle with precious gems or metal, while others appear crafted well, if somewhat mundane. A large stone idol of a bull sits mounted on a heavy wooden pedestal; both bull and pedestal are inlaid with gold. Beautiful and grotesque mosaic murals cover every wall. It depicts a bloody battle, with a high walled city atop a wide mesa in the background.
His eyes picked out a carved bone flute, and a large gold inlaid wooden harp... a flicker of movement from behind the bull idol.
"Brady!" He breathed over his shoulder as loud as he dare, "Movement".
Brady moved into the room behind him. Lars tossed his torch towards the stone bull. It landed just past it, with an audible 'thock' as it hit the flagstone floor.
The torchlight revealed the rear wall of the room. A long wooden rack ran the length, and more treasure spilled from ancient baskets. The large bull idol loomed against this in dark silhouette. The weight of darkness clung to the right and left corners of the room. And no sign of anyone or anything.
Brady handed his torch to Lars and withdrew his maglight.
"You go right, I go left?" Lars suggested. Brady responded with a nod, and the two men moved towards the opposite corners of the room, following the walls as best they could. Heaps of treasure and ancient chests impeaded easy movement.
Lars rounded a corner and an explosive blast thundered through the chamber. For a moment, the room lit up as the flash of a shotgun blast took him from behind. He noted, oddly how he could see his shadow on the wall as it happened. The after image stayed with him, as he flew prone to land on his face. Hard. Then the flame of pain blossomed acrossed his back. It was momentary though, as he passed out he thought, Is this what dying feels like?
Jesus and Capt. Jack had been guarding the entrance to the chamber, staring back into the ropebridge room. Looking cautiously for the shadowy dust and soot creatures.
The sound of the blast seemed like an explosion of thunder, it echoed out of the chamber, and into where the Capt. and Jesus were. The shout of "Lars!" came from Brady. The two men moved as one, their years of familiarity, allowing them to work in silent harmony. They reached the door and peered inside, looking for trouble. None presented itself.
They could see Brady taking cover by the legs of a large golden statue of a man. He motioned towards the oppposite corner of the chamber and there they could see Lars' prone body sprawled over a pile of golden coins. His torch, once Brady's, laying a foot from him.
The two men made their way into the room. Guns drawn, they were looking for any sign of trouble.
A bald, mustachioed man tried to creep by behind treaure piles, behind Lars. But when he realized he was spotted he sprinted the rest of the way to take cover behind the bull idol. An old-style double-barrel shotgun visible in the torchlight.
Jesus immediately rushed forward towards the inert form of Lars. He slid in the last few feet, using Lars as cover. He pointed his gun towards the bull.
"Lars, you still with us compadre?" No answer. He dared not take his eyes off the bull to check for vitals just now. Out of his periphery he saw Jack rush towards the bull idol, and vanish behind it.
Captain Jack was surprised to discover another man completely standing directly in front of him on the other side of the bull idol. Jack had originally intended on shooting the bald bastitch, but his shot now went wild as he managed to dodge a swipe from this new opponent's hatchet. The lead slug caught itself in the man's right foot. He grimaced in pain, and his eyes took on a murderous gleam below the brim of his black derby. He rushed forward despite the pain in his foot, his long black hair flowing out behind him like a widow's veil. He swung his hatchet again at Jack. It's wicked blade slicing the air inches from Jack's chest. Jack fired a second time, and the man took the shot in the chest. Gasping in horror, he clutched at the bleeding socket as the hatchet left his grasp and fell to the treasure covered floor. He followed a moment later with an ignoble thud.
Mustachio jumped around the bull on Jesus' side. He fired a shot and managed to catch Jesus in the rear calf with shot. As he rushed by though Jesus returned fire, and the slug from his grandfather's Colt M1911 sunk into the flesh of the man's leading foot. It immediately collapsed under him, and he fell to his knee. Another shot took him from across the room, as Brady lit up from the muzzle flash of his weapon. Amazingly the shot didn't put him down, and he struggled to get to his feet. Jack, however, was now standing over him. His Glock pressed against the back of the bald man's scalp.
"It's done. Drop it." The captain ordered. The man, defeated, conceeded. His shotgun fell harmlessly to the ground beside him with a clatter.
Jesus checked for Lar's pulse...