the wicked king soot - SCHLATTBUR MEDIEVAL AU

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DISCLAIMER: hihi!! HELLo!! unlike all other previous oneshots, this idea was actually from myself and not from an online prompt generator :p its a bit more serious than the other goofy shots, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

prompt/context; this story takes place in a Medieval Era. First Knight Schlatt ventures through the underground tunnels with his vassal, when he runs into an unexpected person...


oneshot written by alex

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The sombre, silent halls of the ancient railways and unadorned tunnels amplify the delicate sounds of their pattering footsteps. The undercity has been abandoned for years; it almost surprises him that the walls of the tunnels haven't collapsed yet.

The distinct click-clack sounds of heels along the tracks is bespeckled with the occasional, conspicuously sharp screech noises of the younger boy, who is nervously sharpening the blade of his sword.

What a halfwit fool, that Tubbo kid. Giving out our location like that. When we get jumped by assassins, I'll be the one telling him "I told you so". . . Assuming we even make it out of this god damned place alive.

He's been sharpening that blade for a while now. Admittedly, it had been really getting on Schlatt's nerves. He would have snapped at him ages ago for that, but being with him for a while now, he knows he only ever fidgets like that when he's scared. Snapping at him would only make things even worse, for the both of them — yes, he might have short patience and anger management issues, but he's not an idiot.

Despite the dragging tunnel leading only forwards, Schlatt finds his eyes constantly darting side to side — as if something at any given moment were to pounce out from the sidelines, out of thin air. He's been in such dire situations far too many times to know that it's essential to always keep his guard up; no matter where he is, or who he's with.

He holds out the alight torch in his hand, bringing the tips of the flame to meet the match on the empty candlestick lantern — which is distributed about 5 or so metres away from one another along the primitive walls of the ancient underpass. He's been lighting up each of the candles along the way, lighting the pathway from both behind and in front. He draws his hand back quickly after, resuming his steady pacing.

The two have been venturing through the railways for what seems like hours — it could have been hours. A few... no... maybe a couple more than just 'a few'. He doesn't really know. A rhythmic routine mixed with a tunnelvision of darkness seemed to have stretched out time so much to the point where the concept of it sort of vanished for a little while.

Suddenly, Schlatt crinkles his nose, getting a strong whiff of the foul scent.

Disgusting. Fuckin' reeks of expired petrol and metal.

How long has this underground railway really been abandoned for? One good look at the corroded tracks underneath his boots give him a pretty good assumption.

Paranoid, he quickly sneaks a glance behind him to make sure Tubbo's following his lead. To his relief, he sees the boy pacing behind, sharpening his sword with an iron bar and a blank stare. He understands the kid must be terrified out his mind — after all, he's never stepped out from the city of Anatoli. But at the same time, he really should be paying more attention to their surroundings. Schlatt frowns as he makes this realisation.

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