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Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #2290520
A coordinated effort for treasure just means getting down to work!
Emily secured the rope to her Pa’s waist by laying on the ground and pushing as hard as she could with her feet. His breath squeaked in sharp rasps as he became incrementally smaller. Then she took position with her bow where she could see the winking lights from the torches scattered far below. The bouncing shadows moved like water lapping at a dark shore illuminating their target. A oaken treasure box sitting at the bottom of a rock fissure.

Mithawlk the dwarf was the first one through the spider hole. He was born and raised underground and scampering down to the treasure was no more than skipping over soap in a shower.

Pa was next. Ma and Emily holding the hawser that supported him until it went slack once he reached the rock floor below. Then Ma retrieved Emily’s massive quiver and Emily began the arduous task of killing the spiders that now showed themselves and their dislike for humans.

You can’t come in here.” was their basic vibe, only a lot more creepy and cringeworthy.

Mithawlk’s arms flexed and his dance of death began. Two mighty axes cutting swaths of spiders as they darted like so many biting gnats. Pa’s mace crushed down on the black mass of soft bodies, splatting a rich green ooze that made footing tricky. Emily let the “Grey Goose Fly” like she’d never done before. Her fingers and shoulders began to ache as she leaned into her work with gusto.

The thought of being stung and of curling up and dying right there was lost in the frenzy of the battle. As quick as Ma could set and arrow in Em’s hand it was shelved, strung, pulled and loosed.

Pa fit the hawser to a ring on the chest and their retreat began.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2290520-The-Battle