The year was somewhere after the invention of locks and advanced trap mechanism. Maybe medieval age? Maybe after the fall of the crusade? Nobody really remembers anymore. Time erases all and only the kings and conquerors get remembrance. Nola Grandsmith was not one of those and thus was never mentioned in any history books despite her extraordinary talent and the peculiarity of her death.
Grandsmith is her family name but Nola can barely tell the difference between an anvil and a bellow. To her, the crude and unrefined products of sword and shield are trivial. They are bulky, heavy, and straight forward. A mean to an end. Avoiding demands from her father, Nola chooses to fiddle with locks and their designs. She loves the intricacy of tiny metal pieces working together and how to make them surrender with the right touch. The more complex the design is, the more entranced Nola becomes. Soon, recognizing her innate gift, her father relents and allows Nola to follow her hobby in place of working in the forge. Little he knows that he would raise one of the greatest thieves and lock pickers for the next two hundred years.
Her skill in lock picking captures attention, and master thieves who are looking for partner in crime or an apprentice approach her. Many attempt to recruit Nola to their cause but only one succeeds. No one really know his name, nor can they confirm he exists. Such was the caliber of Nola's teacher. Under this master thief's tutelage, Nola would go on a spree wherever she happens to be. No locks can stop her, no chest, door, gate, or vault are safe from her. If it uses a key, she can open it. She only needs to focus on avoiding getting caught and that is her primary training in every session.
As her talent blooms, her targets turn more daring and borderline reckless. She would leave marking, a G carved onto the broken container and a dice. The locals, failing to detain this mysterious thief despite multiple baits, give her a nickname. Instead of saying that their property was stolen, they refer to them as being taken by the Gambler. Her fame grows wide in the city and soon, she runs out of challenging targets worth breaking in.
Sitting with her feet on the table inside a popular tavern, being bored out of her mind, Nola is half asleep when she overhears two people talking behind her. One is saying how incredible her latest heist was, and the other one grunts in agreement. Smiling with her eyes closed, Nola begins to think about her next mark and her thought is instantly disrupted as the grunting customer passingly mentions the Donovan treasure. Something about an abandon castle with hundred of years worth of gold that is guarded by unearthly creatures. How it has been left in decay and yet no one is able to cross the traps inside to claim the gold. "Even the Gambler wouldn't dare try it, that place is haunted. It's not normal in any way".
That settles it. Donovan castle is the next destination. A heist to remember. A carving onto the passage of time. However, one problem presents. Unearthly creatures are obstacles that Nola wishes to stay away from. She could sneak passed them but accidentally getting into a fight will prove fatal and she already has traps to worry about. A partner doesn't sound that bad of an idea. She'll probably have to split the earning but it's better than being dead. Still, who in their right mind would want to go with her into that dreaded place? Assuming they don't run out on her at first ghastly sight of the castle's guardian, that person must be either insane or incredibly stupid.
While she is pondering her options, a shadow passes over her, blocking moon light from the window. Lazarok, a wandering warrior who has difficult getting employed because he spends too much time mumbling to himself. People say he talks to the voice inside his head, some say it gives him foresight. Others think he probably got hit too many times in the head.
Coincidence or providence? A perfect partner just appears before Nola. Lazarok is an honest brute, even if he's not sound of mind. It's unlikely he understands how to split the treasure properly between both parties, and it's possible that he won't even demand it. After all, he pays more attention talking to himself than the world around him. If he becomes unreasonable, Nola could leave him inside the castle to fend for himself.
"Greetings, I'm Vivienne, I've heard of your great deeds. Are you working for someone right now? If not, fancy a trip to Donovan castle? I can pop locks and crack safe if you're willing to handle whatever monsters they have in there."
An agonizing minute passes before Lazarok answers, as if he needs time to consult the voice in his head. What comes out of his mouth is not coherent but a jumble of words, randomly spoken. Nodding sincerely, he said "Will do, yes, yes, will do, left boulder, large shield, steel plates, twenty seven, three then back". Unshaken by his character, Nola replies "We have an agreement. We'll meet here again tomorrow at daybreak".
Lazarok arrives lugging a heavy shield and full body armor. "He's going to war", Nola thinks. His weapon is a short mace that looks like a toy in his humongous hand. Immediately, they set a fast pace toward the castle and Nola tries to pry more information out of Lazarok. Their conversation ends shortly since Lazarok talks in complete rubbish, forcing Nola to give up her attempt. As they approach the castle through a forest, strong wind suddenly appears, pushing leaves, branches, dirt, and stagnant water against their faces. Had it not for Lazarok's giant shield, both of them would have been covered in rotting leaves and mud.
Inside the castle, fight ensures and Nola's hunch was correct. Lazarok is a good partner to have as he easily bashes strange machines that shoot multiple arrows and metal armors that move with nobody wearing them. Nola catches a glimpse of the metal armor's inside when it was smashed open. There were similar parts that make up a lock, in addition to rotating wheels and chains and strange levers.
Not to be outdone, Nola disarms a wide array of traps herself. From simple locks to ancient trickery that she has never seen before, Nola tirelessly picks door after door, checking floor tile and ceiling, things that look innocent but will prove fatal if carelessly displaced. Lost in her work, she misses her footing and nearly falls down the stair as Lazarok grabs her by the waist. "Be careful of the steps", a slight worry crosses Lazarok's brow. "There are twenty seven and lazy powder. Left boulder, three then back, come now smithy".
Most of Lazarok's mumbling is ignored by now but when he said smithy, Nola was startled as she did not tell him her real name, let alone what her family does for a living. Is Lazarok talking not to himself but something else beyond the mortal realm? A brief memory flashes through Nola's mind as she vaguely remembers the stories of trickster gods in her childhood. Or more likely that Lazarok just randomly spews more nonsense because he carries too much battle gears. He's probably mad at the blacksmith for making such heavy armor.
They press on and Nola thinks about Lazarok's words when they first met. He said something about shield and it turns out to be useful. Also the steel plates he's wearing are the only thing that can withstand those automaton armors' attack. Then what does "three then back" mean? How about the number twenty seven? She is getting goose bumps now. He also said "lazy powder" when she tripped on the stair. Does he mean the sleeping powder she's carrying as a safety measure in case Lazarok decides to turn on her when they reach the treasure? How could he know about it if Nola only picked the powder up this morning out of impulse? Will he be surprise if Nola uses it on him?
The more she thinks about this, the more unnerving it becomes. Her conclusion starts to come clear. She will abandon Lazarok once they find the gold. If she carefully traces back the same way they come, she wouldn't have to worry about fighting more guardians. Sleeping powder is her best bet and she must use it at the most appropriate moment. Before Nola finishes her thought, a large, shinning door with four locks appear before them. The treasure room is behind this door. A strange rock in wheel shape to the left of the door, looks ready to roll down and block the entrance when someone dares move passed it.
However, the stone wheel does not move as Nola slowly approaches the door. It seems secured in place and would only roll down when some mechanism is activated. The door is no more difficult than any previous locks she picks. Swing it wide open, Nola carefully steps in and glittering of gold overwhelms her eyes. The floor is completely covered with gold coins and there are twenty seven chests laying on top, full to the brim with large diamonds and gem stones. Her hand automatically reaches for the sleeping powder pouch and as she turns around, the stone wheel suddenly moves, closing the entrance between her and Lazarok. From her point of view, the wheel has rolled all the way to the left and stops exactly at the end of the track, blocking the only escape, leaving only a tiny opening on the bottom right.
The way is sealed by a boulder laying on her left.
One could hear the howl and scream through the tiny gap for days as Nola the Gambler struggles to escape. With no source of water in sight, she soon succumbs to delirium. In her final days, she could hear a faint laughter inside her head and whispers speaking of her treachery.
Lazarok returns three weeks later. Nola was already dead. He pulls the left lever and proceeds to carry the chests out.
Art Credit: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/785667097464795703/