Spire's Spite

The creature stalking him sliced into his arms and disappeared into the bleak, grey forest. Fritz tried to flee but the monster followed. It had three faces, sixty faces, nine hundred faces. All faces of those he had killed, and had fallen to his blade. Quicksilver howled, it was like a thousand swords drawn all at once. Countless discordant tones in a sharp, cold song. It looked different, felt different, and yet it was the same. The beast pounced again, lamenting their deaths, blaming him with all those flensed faces and lying lips. Fritz scowled, his own visage cast in a vicious veil. It was their fault they died! Not his!

He met the accusations with his blade's edge. What else could he do?

Fritz awoke, his arms felt as if they were burning. It was a bad way to wake. He stifled a small cry as he sat up and took in his surroundings. He was in the cave, not in the forest. He exhaled slowly and his heart began to settle out of its rapid rhythm. He wasn't the only one awake. Bert was still on watch and glanced to Fritz's moving form while he talked softly with George. Lauren was also awake, not wasting any time as she catalogued their treasure on a sheaf of paper, the slightly fishy, acrid scent of squid ink permeating the air around her.

The siblings still slept, huddled close and snoring.

"Bert," Fritz said. "I'm feeling better, you can get some rest now."

His words weren't entirely true, he still ached, felt weak and weary. His hands and forearms were as heavy as lead. Though he could deal with it, the pain wasn't nearly as bad as when he had burnt himself with eldritch flame.

Bert looked him over suspiciously, but nodded all the same and shuffled over to Fritz.

"Shoo, let me have your warm spot," Bert said. "And your pillow, I get the best sleep with it."

Fritz put on a performative sigh of long-suffering, but smiled as he let Bert take his place.

Lauren turned to all the noise and raised an eyebrow. Fritz smiled blandly and crept over to where she crouched in front of all the Treasures. He kept an ear out for trouble, though there was very little to listen for. Even that uneasiness that had been plaguing him this whole climb had completely disappeared. Likely due to the fact that its origin lay, dead, defeated, maimed and mangled, covered coarsely, below branch and tangle.

Fritz gently pushed down the humming Dusksong. He wondered how faeries dealt with the rhyming nonsense that was imbued in their magics. He didn't remember the Duskmoth doing much of it, though he remembered little of what went on in that strange realm where she dwelt.

He stopped reminiscing and glanced over the list Lauren was writing in a concise yet elegant manner. The handwriting was similar to the lady herself, constrained yet dotted with pretty, almost flamboyant, flourishes.

"You're good at that. I take it that you've handled ledgers and lists in the past?" Fritz asked.

"Yes," she said nodding. "You know, I thought I hated it. But when I woke up and I saw all this equipment lying around I couldn't help but organise it. It was like a mosquito buzzing in my brain."

"Huh. Maybe it's the head injury," Fritz smirked.

She spun on him and slapped his shoulder playfully, and now that he was close he saw that her eyes were red. She'd cried recently.

It makes sense, being attacked by a monster is one thing, a man is another.

"Ow," he whined.

"Oh, stop," she said smiling.

"Ouch, that looks painful," he noted, pointing at her swollen, bruised forehead and the dark ring formed under the eye beneath it.

"It's not. Just feels tight," she said, poking it gently, then shrugging.

"Find anything interesting in the raider's gear?"

"Compass," she said, throwing him the wooden disk.

"Anything else?" He asked, catching it easily. He opened the hinged shell and peered at the small glass window and the wavering, metal needle indicating what was 'north' on this Floor. He closed it quickly, it pointed nowhere near where he had sensed the Stairway.

"Well, there are some venoms, potions and tonics that I've identified with the Technique scrolls. And some that I have tested," Lauren explained. "This one is quite odd," she added holding up a vial. "Potent, but odd."

"What does it do?" Fritz asked intrigued.

"It's a venom, that makes blood flammable. Explosive even, if the scrolls are to be believed," she said.

"It makes people explode?" He asked, a note of horror leaking into his voice.

"No, you still have to start the fire yourself," she corrected. "Which is harder for some than others."

Lauren smirked and Fritz mirrored it.

"There's also another bottle of that sleeping concoction," she said. "And something called gill-grease. Two more venoms, each specialised to kill certain types of monsters, and one for 'humans' for a total of three. There was also a small trove of healing, stamina, pain-dulling and resistance remedies that will help us recover from or endure hardship."

"That will be eminently useful in our current predicament," Fritz observed. "We should hand them out before we march to the next Well."

Lauren nodded and she clutched her head from a sudden bout of dizziness, then she searched the neatly organised pile of vials, powders, pastes and pills. Seizing one box filled with tiny spheres that looked like dried peas, she took one and swallowed it down with a mouthful of water. For a moment it looked as if she were going to be sick but after a minute her sour face smoothed out and she sighed in relief.

"Works fast," Fritz said, somewhat impressed.

"It does," she agreed.

"Valuable?" He asked, shuffling closer.

Lauren held out her hand and tilted it this way and that. "Could be, they're not potions, so their effects are mild in comparison. Though every small advantage can tip the balance between triumph and torment. Or so they say."

"Who's they? I've heard that sentiment. Though I haven't heard that particular line before," Fritz asked.

"And here I thought you were well-read in faerie tales," Lauren teased. "Though I believe it came from a rare book, not something a gutter-thief could get his hand on easily."

"True as the rain," Fritz agreed. "My educations and entertainments, alas, were stalled. Replaced with scraping and surviving."

A hint of pity entered her eyes and Fritz had to push down the sudden irrational indignation it sparked.

"Well, the line was from the stories of the black-furred banneret, by the title character no less," she recounted, then quoted, "And thus Sir Geraldo spoke:"

"Every lance and every stave,

aid foe's falls, the way is paved.

Any boon could bridge the rent,

between triumph, and torment."

Fritz nearly choked when he heard the name of the black-furred banneret, irritation blooming in his chest.

"That muddy mole?!" He burst out.

Lauren's brow furrowed.

"He's a great hare," she stated. "A brave knight and steed."

"Yes. Of course," Fritz said quickly, covering his shock. "Never heard of him."

"That's the second time you've denied meeting a faerie," Lauren said suspiciously.

"That just means I have never met one, and doubly so," Fritz espoused smugly.

"Are you mocking me?" Lauren said, some heat entering her tone as her eyes flickered with embers in the dark of the cave.

"No, sorry," Fritz said, dropping his self-satisfied smile. "Just put it out of your mind, this isn't the time to delve into secrets. We'll save such things for the precipice, when we get there."

Lauren looked as though she wasn't satisfied, though she seemed willing to let it go.

"The precipice is it? And you're sure I'll join you all the way to the top?" She asked, changing the subject artfully.

"Hah! I think I know you well enough now to say you're one of us," Fritz espoused.

"One of you?" she asked arching an eyebrow.

"A madman?" Cal grumbled as he woke.

"A madwoman, be mindful of the lady now," he chided affably. "Though I was more saying she's a true Climber as Bert and I are. Ready to take any risk for Power and freedom."

"A madwoman," Rosie agreed.

"I'm not mad," Lauren stated hotly.

"Didn't mean no insult," Rosie said. "You're the good kind of mad. And you got to be a little mad to Climb past your third floor anyway."

Lauren huffed and returned to sorting the remedies into six pouches, one or two of every type into each small bag. One for them each to carry so they had them handy when needed. Rosie watched her and offered to help, which she begrudgingly agreed to.

"Cal, my good friend," Fritz said.

"Good friend now is it?" Cal moped.

"What else could I call the hero who distracted the vile villain when he had me within his clutches?" He asked rhetorically, giving the man his most insufferable smirk, the one he saved mostly for Bert. "Who wept at my grave as I perished, proudly, from this plane?"

"I think I hate you," Cal said without much heat, the corner of his lip twitching as he suppressed a smile.

"That is merely the first step," Fritz proclaimed. "Down a great road of wealth, power and adventure!"

As he spun up his boasting, Fritz noticed he was feeling much better, even with the burning in his arms. Though that was something he was all too used to by now. No, it felt as though a terrible weight had lifted off him after the raider's demise, and now left him with a sense of airiness and hope he couldn't quite describe. Like he were a bird whose clipped feathers had finally regrown.

"I hope the second step is some breakfast," George added, seemingly feeling the same lightness that let him join in the jokes and joviality.

"Yeah yeah," Cal, groused. It was a token effort to stay grumpy, Fritz observed. Only now did it seem that the fact that they were almost free and nearly clear begin to sink into their spirits.

He was glad of it, they deserved a win. Nothing could have prepared them for the raider, even surviving the Sunken Spire had only given Fritz the slightest edge against his opponent. An advantage he had to leverage for all it was worth, and still only barely succeeded.

"Go cut some wood if you want me to make something, can't cook without a fire now can I?" Cal said.

George obliged, always happy for an excuse to use his sword and Sever, and soon the scent of grilled crab and its fruity blood filled the cave.

While there was cooking being done, Fritz checked on each of the team, asking them how their wounds were healing and if they felt they could walk for another day or two to the Stairway.

"Is it that far?" Rosie whined.

"I believe so," Fritz informed her.

"I'm feelin' much better, but I don't think I could walk all day," she hedged.

"Well, maybe Cal or Bert could carry you," Fritz offered magnanimously, as it wasn't going to be his burden.

"Bert please," Rosie said guilelessly, causing Cal to roll his eyes.

"I'll ask him once he's awoken," Fritz said. "He shouldn't need much sleep due to his Abilities and Attributes anyway."

"Actually," he added, turning to Lauren as the thought occurred to him. "I've been meaning to ask, how does that work exactly?"

"Hmm?" she asked distractedly, wrapping up the last of the raider's items and storing them.

"Sleep and Endurance," Fritz stated.

"Ah," Lauren said, then she pitched her voice to reach the rest of the team. "The human mind needs sleep, this does not change. Though some Abilities, Traits or Strains may come close to eliminating the need for it. Without proper sleep, you will accrue a reduction to Stamina Recovery, and that's to say nothing of the mental effects of being awake too long. That is to say: Endurance allows you to keep going and recover from effort or unaligned spell use quicker, but it does not remove the necessity of sleep."

"Huh," Fritz said. It made a sort of sense. "You do need less of it though?"

"Yes, a little less. Though I was taught that you'd need Endurance to be in the hundreds to start cutting off more than an hour or two without detriment. There are charts and graphs all about the 'diminishing returns' of the Base Attributes. I never took the time to memorise them, it was all very..."

"Boring?" Fritz supplied with a smirk.

"Esoteric... but yes, boring," she admitted with a smile. "Very boring."

"Yes, it's so much better in this exciting, dank cave," Cal said while serving Lauren a skewer of crab first in a blatant show of favouritism.

Boons of the beautiful, Fritz supposed. She took the proffered meal and began to eat.

"Another thing," Frizz said. "I have an Ability that has a cost of Aligned or Near-aligned only. I get the gist, but is there anything else to it?"

Lauren finished her mouthful of crab and delicately wiped away a spot of blue from the corner of her lip.

"This is your new shadow form Ability?" She asked knowingly, having seen it in the battle beforehand. "It's as it says, it can only use aligned, or near-aligned mana-types. So it needs to use shadow mana or any mana close to shadow like... well, I don't know if there are any that are close. Maybe Chaos or Ruin? The Ability also can no longer take and convert Stamina or your own body to what it needs, which makes your magic attribute very important. As without mana, no Ability."

"Oh," Fritz said, stifling a gulp. "That's basically what I thought."

He, of course, had thought no such thing. He believed Umbral Phase would just cost more to use, not that he'd be unable to use it if he had no Dusksong mana left. In the heat of the battle he had felt the drain but hadn't been able to really gauge how much had been taken. He assumed it had been something like double the cost and planned around that, not using more Gloom strikes than the very first one on the flask.

Knowing now that, without the shadowy mana available, his phase would no longer function made him reevaluate the risk he had taken on that last strike.

Am I an idiot? He wondered for the first time. No, of course not, you're brave and bold, unafraid to take risks. Enviable and handsome. Only a fool in this small case, and a couple of others.

Fritz was shaken out of his thoughts by Lauren, she was speaking.

"It is, however, unusual that you received such an Ability so soon. Normally a power would take an ascension or two to truly change like that. If they ever changed at all."

Fritz shrugged. "Guess I'm just fortunate."

"Unfortunate more like. That Ability is dead in the water once you're out of Nightwell mana," she corrected. "Which, considering it's a defensive Power, means you'll be dead too if it fails."

Fritz nodded, having come to the same conclusion himself. It was a very powerful Ability, but it was limited. He'd have to choose between using his Dusksong for offence and defence, and it made the odd Attribute far more appealing than it already was. Still, there was no use complaining, it was a perfect complement to his kit, synergising extremely well with his own evasive skills and his Danger Sense.

If he was struck with something he couldn't sense or avoid, it would slip straight through him, presuming the attack in question couldn't hurt shadows. Which, now that he thought of it, might not be the case with a Light or Fire Ability, or something similar. His skin crawled as he imagined such a strike tearing apart his shadow form.

"Well, I'm sure I'll manage," Fritz said. "I have so far."

"Because of me," Bert grumbled opening one sleepy eye. "Can you all be quiet? I'm trying to sleep."

"Sorry," Fritz said, which was echoed by Lauren.

"Not you, I could listen to your voice all night," Bert flirted reflexively.

"Thank you," Fritz said, and Lauren rolled her eyes.

Bert scowled and turned over, pulling his blanket tight.

"You should refill your Treasures," Lauren suggested in a whisper. She hefted the softly clinking bag of gold. "Sixty-eight triads in here. Plenty to go around."

"Wonderful," Fritz agreed, finally getting his own crab skewer. The lazy lout Cal had served him last. Even Bert had gotten one before him and snacked down on it in three mouthfuls, then returned to his nap.

After eating, they filled the plentiful Treasures to full capacity. It was a great relief to finally have his barrier ring restored, even if he might need it less now, another layer of defence could never be bad. All in all, the refilling took a mighty toll on their fortune, fifty nine triads were consumed by their Treasures, leaving them with only nine left.

"I've never even seen so much gold," Rosie said. "And now, poof! It's gone. Just one triad is enough to live on for a year. Seems a waste."

"Not a waste if it keeps us alive," Fritz stated.

"Just a shock is all," Rosie said, mulling something over in her mind.

She was right, it was a staggering amount of wealth to just disappear.

"We might have gotten away with only partially filling the Treasures. Though I still think it's best to be prepared for anything. Who knows, we might just run into an Aberrant beast," Fritz said, consoling their injured purses, his own most of all.

While they waited for Bert to get enough rest to continue on their march, Fritz and Cal took the opportunity to test out the bow and quiver. They did so just past the cave's entrance, and Lauren joined them, wanting a go herself.

"Thought you were going to focus on the magic," Fritz carving a target into a large tree, finding that under its golden bark its wood was a pale white.

"I am, this is for something to do," she said with a shrug. "A bit of fun."

"Fair," Fritz said. "Think this gold bark is worth anything?"

"Maybe as a base for paint or dye?" Lauren proffered. "Unlikely to be too valuable. Gold isn't worth anything without its mana value."

Fritz silently agreed, but put a couple of hand-sized pieces of bark in a pouch anyway. You never knew when fake gold might come in handy after all.

They took turns loosing arrows, trying to hit the crude target as best they could.

"Do we know what Imbuements these Treasures have?" Cal asked as Fritz bent the bow.

Trying to sabotage me! The fool, I'll show him, Fritz grumbled inwardly, loosing the arrow he held and missing completely. Sid made this whole archery business look far easier than it actually is.

Affecting indifference to his failed attempt at a bullseye, Fritz said, "Hmm? Imbuements?"

"I saw the bow go black and become hard enough to survive George's Sever," Lauren said. "I don't know about the quiver though."

"I think the quiver is like your personal pack Cal," Fritz said. "We'll have to test it."

Fritz placed the bow to the quiver then Activated it. The bow was sucked in like it was gripped by quicksand, or rather, very quicksand, plunging into the dark leather and leaving not a trace. Though the weapon had disappeared Fritz still had a sense of it inside the quiver and was able to call it back with another activation.

"Useful, it saves having to carry it around or having to re-string it when needed," Lauren said. "Me next, if you don't mind."

Fritz didn't, so he smiled and handed her both the Treasures.

They each took turns loosing the remaining arrows, a measly eight were left. Though Lauren did have a brilliant idea and discovered that the quiver could store arrows as well as the bow.

"Wonder why the raider didn't though," she commented.

"Waste of gold I suppose," Fritz said with a shrug. "If each storage and then recovery even cost only one gold that's two triads you're throwing away. I could understand the cost when storing the bow, but for the arrows... It couldn't be worth it."

"I think I agree," Lauren said.

After all was said and done, Cal dejectedly handed the bow back to Fritz. For as much as Fritz had little talent for the bow, Cal seemed cursed. Not a single of his loosed arrows struck the tree, let alone the target.

"Well, you've still got your flail," Fritz said with a commiserating smile.

Cal sighed.

"That's right!" Bert called out. "You're not a complete flail-ure."

All three turned to see Bert's stupid grin and near boundless energy on full display. He looked much healthier, the venom and toxins must've been mostly burned out of his body by his bones, blood and Vitality. They groaned at his terrible joke, while George chortled.

"Now, when do make like the jungle and leave?"