Thieving of the Temple of Elphame

"Thieving of the Temple of Elphame" by Bennybalboa

At last the sun had set in the lands of the Diaspora. The sun took a long time to set here, for it had nowhere in particular to go. Since the rest of the land had been covered in the Mists, the sun could not eagerly watch the little creatures (who thought themselves so important) run about their daily lives. Of course in the lands of the Diaspora, the gods had pushed back the mists and here, the sun could watch.

The sun may have been delighted to see the event which was to take place that night, or perhaps shocked. But of course, it had been called away to do whatever it is suns do at night. Considering it was a young sun, this being because it always seemed to get up late and wander off again at an even later time in the evening, it had probably gone off to explore a new club within the solar system.

It was a dark night because the moon was not out this night; it had probably gone to join the sun. And even if the moon had been full it was unlikely it would be able to watch the scene through the thick layers of cloud which seemed to have launched a tactical strike, whilst the sun had turned the other way making the day's exit. Now the clouds were bombarding the town of Leinster with rain. The cloud's would have preferred to throw bricks or something heavy but clouds seem to have a habit of dropping anything heavier than mist on their feet, tripping up and making a mess of the entire proceedings. This overall causes their general to go sulk off and hide on a mountain somewhere for the remainder of the week.

The streets of Leinster were silent; no one comes out on dark rainy nights, not even muggers. Not because muggers hate the rain, but years of natural selection have weeded out all the thieves who try to find a target on a deserted street. Any thief, who tries this, tends to get wet and spend the next day, which of course is when the streets are packed, in bed with a cold. There's nothing like having your hand in somebody else's pocket and finding your about to sneeze.

Or at least the streets were silent. Now they were filled with the repetitive sound of people running. This was not strictly true. It was in fact the silent sound of one person running followed by the loud clanging sound of a lot of people chasing, who thought that the best equipment for guarding the town would be to take the heaviest metal they could find and turn it into boots.

It's not like the thief had even done anything wrong, yet. He had just been running towards his targeted building, as his training had instructed him to do at times like this. That was guards for you, walk past them with huge bag with the label 'swag' or a dollar sign on it, hung over your shoulder and they would leave you alone, run whilst wearing a medal for 'most innocent citizen' and they would chase. Natural selection didn't seem to have any impact on guards. The thief was known as Sleek, a name he had picked up because of the way his long dark hair fitted over his head in a shiny, tight fashion. He was on his way to the altar of Elphame in the temple gardens. He had been paid a rather hansom up-front fee to break into the temple and steal some book kept within its dark, dead walls. This was strange because he would not have considered himself the world's best thief or even the town's come to think of it. His employer seemed to have been more interested in other qualities than, well quality. For example he seemed to smile in a worrying way whenever Sleek said something stupid, like he'd give his life if he had too to complete his task.

Sleek, of course, was an elf and this, at least, made him more nimble than the guardians of Leinster. Although, it must be pointed out that outrunning someone in metal shoes is hardly a challenge. Sleek preferred troll leather armor which was sturdy, flexible and lighter, using this to his advantage he flung himself up onto the roof of the School of Hard Knocks, the weapons skills academy. He then continued to dart across the roof tops before he was finally satisfied that the guards had lost his trail. Jumping off the roofs he continued towards the temple gardens, this time at walking pace, sticking to the shadows. Finally he arrived at the altar for Elphame, placing his hands on the surface of the altar; he allowed it to transport him to the altar at the temple of Elphame. The feeling was indescribable; it was like being drunk by a fog of cool fire which gave off negative light. Sleek, after spending a moment to regain his bearings, crept towards the walls of the temple. The entrance to the inner halls was known to be within the statue room, even Sleek knew better than to use the main entrance. Instead he crawled up the side of the temple. The temples were architectural masterpieces, therefore meaning they had a never ending surplus of bits sticking out of the wall that someone could grab onto. He then proceeded towards a large chimney, Sleek sighed in relief, there was no smoke rising from it, he pulled out a hook with a rope attached, both completely matte black. He then ducked under the chimney's miniature roof to help keep out the rain.

Sliding down the rope, Sleek expected to feel a blast of warm air hit him as he descended into the darkness but if anything the air was getting even colder than the damp air outside. As he reached the bottom, he pulled out a small orb, mumbling a few words under his breath, the orb burst into light.

Sleek almost dropped the orb in fright, instead of finding himself in a kitchen or a bedroom as he expected, he found himself in a dark chamber, filled with coffins, each one a heavy dark stone box. Fear was flooding through Sleek like an arrow through air. The very room leaked fear- it was leaking out of the walls and the floor. A loud crash echoed around the room, the source was somewhere behind him. Sleek spun around on the spot and found that he was staring into the face of a figure, its skin was ice white and wrapped so tightly over the figure's face it looked like a skeleton. There was a subtle difference between this figure and a skeleton however, which is that bones do not usually flake off. The figured seemed to speak in a groan which bypassed Sleek's ears and entered directly into his very soul.

'Tremor mortal! For you shall never escape the clutches of Elphame, we shall tear your very essence from your body and feast upon your soul!'

At those words all the coffins began to shudder, the lids crashing hard onto the floor, Sleek yelled and tried to cover his ears to block out the noise. He spun around looking for an exit, anything he could use for escape but he was surrounded. He pulled a dagger out from under his clothing with what would have been a swift movement (had he not been shaking in utter fear). He went to slash the first undead minion. The minion's arm met his half way in a grip which was surely impossible for something with an arm so thin. There was a loud crack which echoed round the chamber. Sleek almost fainted from fear and pain, his arm was bent in a direction it shouldn't bend, at a joint he didn't have.

Staggering backwards Sleek felt the rope from the shaft he came down brush against him, he leapt up, grabbing the rope and dropping his orb of light. He began to heave himself up the rope with his one good arm. He must have got half way up when he heard thousands of icy laughs break out from below. He looked down, the undead leader was clinging onto the rope with one arm and shining the orb's light at the rope. It stared up at Sleek before tugging the rope downwards as hard as it could. It then turned and smashed the orb on the floor, causing the drop to be swallowed by utter darkness. Sleek heard the bricks his grapnel had been hooked around give way.

He lunged outwards, pressing his one good arm and legs against the shafts walls. He managed, just in time, to avoid falling into the grasp of the dead. He was about breathe a sigh of relief when he felt a large weight collide with his chest. He felt a spike pierce his troll leather armor. He lost his grip through the new weight he had acquired, the huge amount of pain coming from his chest, and the suddenness of it all. At this moment a thought popped into Sleek's mind: 'I was only a pawn and a scout to my employer. He wasn't counting on whether I would have survived and got him the book of the dead, just to locate the traps.' Before he slipped and just had time to make out his grapnel sticking out of his chest before he plunged into the icy, dead darkness of the crypt.