Spire's Spite

Skulking up the stone stormcloud-hued steps Fritz took his time to stop and listen, making sure he wouldn’t be ambushed as soon as he stepped out of the Stairway again. He heard nothing but his crew’s and his own excited breath and the soft scraping of shoes. He snuck as silently as he could manage, which now that he was paying keen attention to the noise his own boots made wasn’t as silent as he would have liked.

I’ll have to get some new ones made out of something a little softer than this hard leather, he thought to himself glancing at the flaky and cracking exteriors of his boots. He surfaced into a straight and narrow hallway of that same seamless stone as the steps. It was dark, pitch black, in fact, so he put down his fish blade and took out his amber glowstone from a pouch on the side of his pack. With light to see what he was doing tucked his fish blade through the pack’s top loop, securing it by tightening the handy straps and buckles.

He held his glowstone before him with his good hand, and let its swirling light fill the rectangular corridor, making the walls look like thick mud that roiled with slithering eels just below its surface. Fritz had a moment of vertigo, he steadied himself against the wall and took a few slow breaths until the spinning subsided. Not as healthy as I thought. Was it the bump on my head or my brush with eldritch fire that’s left me so fragile? Let’s hope I don’t have to fight much in this condition, he told himself as he steadied his feet and began to walk forward, as the way behind him was a dead end.

In less than ten seconds of walking, he found a crossroad and stopped, searching for any danger or traps. Again, his caution was unrewarded as he saw and heard nothing. He whistled for Bert and Sid to follow and they did, walking to his flanks with slow and steady steps.

“Which way?” Sid whispered as she looked down each of the branching passages.

“Not sure yet. I felt a bit dizzy for a while there so I thought it’d be best to have you two by my side while I push on my Door Sense,” Fritz explained in a low voice.

Sid grunted in agreement and Bert nodded peeking around one of the corners.

Fritz extended his Senses, reaching out for the right path forward. The stone felt slippery, shrouded it was like his Abilities were being opposed by the wall’s own inscrutable magics and layout. He received no impressions from his Door Sense but the faint trilling of Trap Sense sounded from the both left and the right passages.

“No idea where the Stairway is, but left and right paths are trapped,” Fritz relayed.

“So we go forward?” Bert asked.

“Maybe. What do you think Sid?” Fritz said.

“You’re the scout, Fritz. You decide,” Sid replied gruffly.

“No unnecessary risks,” Fritz intoned and led them forward.

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes until the corridor ended in a flat wall of stormcloud stone.

“Urgh,” Bert said in disgust, “A bloody dead end. I hate this maze.”

“We’ve been in here for less than five minutes and you already hate it?” Fritz asked.

“Yep,” Bert said unwilling to elaborate.

Fritz turned and led them back the way they came and took them down the left-hand path making sure to be on the lookout for the trap or traps that were likely in the hallway. He was keeping his eyes on the floor when the trilling of his Trap sense suddenly got more intense, pulling his gaze upward and at the ceiling.

There carved into the smooth stone was some sort of circular glyph or runic protection. Fritz had seen similar magics placed on chests, jewellery boxes and the like. Compared to some of the elaborate glyphs he had come across in Lord Whisteship’s estate this one looked to be less intricate. He assumed it meant that it was probably meant to be a more basic ward or something of the sort and he pointed it out the trap his crew.

“What’s it do?” Sid asked.

“I have no idea, probably strikes you with a thunderbolt, or summons lightning spirits,” Fritz said without thinking.

Sid grunted in acceptance.

“Why lightning, Fritz?” Bert inquired.

Why indeed? Fritz thought. He just supposed the glyphs looked like lightning ready to strike.

“Doesn’t it sorta look like a thunderbolt waiting to leap from a storm cloud,” Fritz hedged while squinting at the circle of runes.

The other two joined him in his squinting but Bert merely shrugged and smiled blandly, while Sid looked at Fritz with a small amount of worry for his sanity. Which he knew was wasted. He was as sane as anyone, the most sane really. Stifling a self-reassuring chuckle Fritz continued, “Well it doesn’t really matter, I think we can get past if we put our backs to the walls and slide along the edges.”

They did so, easily avoiding the first trap. The next trap was an identical glyph this time etched into the wall at head height meaning they had to duck under it to get past. They could be quite difficult to see in the strange light of their glowstone and impossible in the dark so Fritz leaned on his Trap Sense as heavily as he dared. Fortunately, it seemed his bouts of vertigo and dizziness were behind him, for now.

Another few minutes and another few glyphs, each at varying positions on the walls ceiling and floors.

“This is boring,” Bert complained. “I have half a mind to trigger one of these things just for something interesting to happen.”

“You have half a mind all the time, Bert,” Fritz riposted. “But you’re right this is terribly dull.”

Bert let out an exaggerated sigh and moped onwards, passing by the next trap by deftly ducking under it.

Sid scoffed, “You two are mad, I’d take boring over danger any day.”

“Ah, but would you take boring over danger every day?” Bert posited philosophically.

She frowned at him, “Yes.”

“Ah, Fritz, there’s no adventure in this one. She’s a stay-at-home scholar in the making,” Bert said lamenting her future.

Sid scowled at the prediction.

“No I’m not,” She argued. “What I’m gonna do is climb all the Spires in Rain City and use that Power to hunt down and kill all the scum in the gutters.”

“Ah,” Bert said, looking away from her intense glare. “A righteous goal.”

Sid spat.

“By scum do you mean people like us? Thieves and thugs?” Fritz said cautiously.

“You know who I mean,” she stated in a voice so cold she could have borrowed it from the blizzard. “Scum like Steve’s men that stayed behind to hurt Vee, Lynn and Naomi.”

Bert grimaced and Fritz joined him, saying, “Well, if you ever need help with that, I’d lend you a hand. My good hand mind you.”

Bert nodded and added darkly, “My fists can kill monsters of all kinds, I’ll lend them to you as well.”

Sid seemed to mull it over, most of her coldness thawing away and grunting something that might have been an acceptance or maybe just an acknowledgement of their offer. It wasn’t a hard offer to make in Fritz’s mind, not anymore, now that he had some power to protect others. He wouldn’t have to look away ever again, he could now put a stop to any indignities that occurred in front of him. Gone were the days of cowering in the shadows.

Just imagining himself being some kind of hero to someone lifted his spirits somewhat even if he knew it was no more than a fanciful daydream. What if he was against someone like Jagged Nic or The Nightshark? He didn’t even really know how strong they were yet, and even the thought of finding out made his guts roil and his legs tremble. Just the vertigo, he lied.

Fritz was still dwelling on his dark imaginings but was able to pick out another trap to his left with only a small effort. Except there was no glyph carved into the wall at all, and the tingling wasn’t the trilling of Trap Sense but instead the tingling of Door Sense, a slight but unmistakable difference in cadence that he had almost missed due to distraction. His heart leapt.

Now what’s behind this hidden door? A way out? Treasure? Faeries again? Fritz wondered.

He signalled a stop to his crew and studied the uniformly smooth wall looking for any handles, mechanisms or seams set in the stone. There were no such obvious tells or ways to open the door that he knew was there from his insistent Door Sense. Fritz set down his glowstone then pulled his dagger free from his belt and tapped it on the wall, testing its hardness. To his surprise, the bone blade slipped into the stone as if it weren’t there.

Feeling no resistance he pushed his dagger deeper, letting his entire hand up to his wrist disappear behind the false wall until it clinked against some kind of metal.

“Illusory wall?” He said, speaking mostly to himself.

“Looks like it,” Bert said while punching his fist through it. “Whoa.”

“If you think this is impressive you should have seen the Faerie Door,” Fritz commented in an offhanded fashion. “It was as strange as a cloudless sky. Though I guess we’ve seen a couple of those now that I think on it.”

“I wish I could have met the Faeries,” Bert said with a sigh. “Especially the muscular one, she sounded like my type.”

“That’s insane,” Sid said. “If faeries exist and it wasn’t just a trick of the Spire. They’re monstrous and mad. So say all the tales. What’s that rhyme about not getting caught up in a Faerie’s curse?” She asked turning to Fritz.

“When you meet,

You may greet,

do not speak,

never treat.”

He recited sheepishly, feeling a little ashamed that he had absolutely gone against common wisdom that even a child would have been taught. He guessed it said something of the tragedy and terror they could inflict; that the rhymes and tales had persisted for centuries without contact. But he had been caught between the ocean and the storm, what with Bert bleeding out and being cursed and all.

“Yeah that one,” Sid agreed. “It was a stupid choice.”

“It was that or Bert’s death. I chose how I chose, and I would choose the same again,” Fritz said seriously, accidentally allowing anger to heat his words.

Sid blinked at his quick temper, then she seemed to think through what she had said. Fritz felt some guilt for snapping at her but he wouldn’t stand for being told he was being stupid just for saving his best friend’s life. So he stared at her frowning. She glared back, unwilling to take back her words.

They’re gazes clashed for what seemed like a minute.

“Enough.” Bert said, “Fritz, I’m very glad you did what you did. But you have to admit it, it was stupid.”

Fritz sighed, letting his anger go and softly stated, “Maybe I’ll just have to get used to being stupid then.”

“You weren’t already? But you’ve had so much practise.” Bert said grinning. “Now can we stop arguing and go through the not-real wall? I feel the need to punch.”

Fritz smiled and let the rest of his foolhardy fury go completely. Bert and by extension Sid were right, it was a desperate decision and defending it was just his stubborn pride misleading him. Best to just accept it and move on, like a lot of his mistakes.

Putting away his dagger and reaching into the illusion he put his hand on what felt like a cool metallic hatch. He pushed it and it didn’t budge. He groped blindly for a moment, then used his Awareness and Door Sense together to guide him to a smooth, cold handle. He pulled it down and it clanked, allowing him to push the hatch open as silently as if its hinges had recently been greased.

Fritz gestured at his two crew to stay while he scouted ahead and they nodded in agreement. Sid was still frowning at him and Bert was mumbling something about needing a good fist fight. He left them behind, slipping through the illusory wall, through the open hatch and into the hidden hallway.

He sighed, glad to be out of Sid’s sight for now, ever since the blizzard there had been that slight awkwardness that even Bert’s presence didn’t seem to diminish. No distractions! Stop moping! you’re in a Spire fool act like it! He chided himself.

He held his glowstone up, peering down the dark depths of the corridor and seeing nothing but more lightless hallway. Some seconds passed and he felt his Door Sense change in pitch and dissipate behind him. Fritz spun to find the illusory wall still there, confused he attempted to put his hand through it and found the once insubstantial stone was now solid.

“Spire’s Spite!” He cursed, tapping the glowstone to it in futility.

Mist started to flow into the hallway, floating down from tiny holes in the corners between the roof and the walls. A gas trap? Why didn’t my trap sense warn me? Fritz covered his mouth with his arm and searched desperately for a way out. He could go down the corridor slowly filling with fog but felt that was useless, his Trap Sense now warning him that the whole hallway was a danger.

Guess I’m trapped in this stone prison... or not. He sighed angrily. Why do I always forget about my Abilities, Stone Pit should be one of the first things I think of when there’s stone and dirt.

Fritz seized upon the power in his centre, pulling on the light of Stone Pit and using it to make a hole, he did need it to be at least as wide as his shoulders so he added that image to his shaping of the spell. It was easier than before he had aligned three more points to Control but it was still difficult to spread the stone even slightly wider while making it a little shallower in the process.

The stone shifted as his Power took hold of its form, creating a one-foot-deep hole. The wall couldn’t be more than five feet deep so he hit it again with the spell, then again. He was panting but he could now see the hatch’s outline meaning he had gotten at least halfway through.

It seemed Control didn’t really increase the area covered but instead let him shape its dimensions, taller, shorter, wider, thinner all while keeping to same amount of ‘space.’ He was sure there was a mathematical term for it, something a climbing tutor would pound into your head, but alas he had been robbed of that, like so many other things.

He cast Stone Pit again and sat heavily as his legs became too tired to keep him standing. He prepared to cast one more Stone Pit to open the way for his crew but accidentally inhaled some of the mist and felt his head swim. His eyelids began to droop and drowsiness set in. A small nap wouldn’t hurt, he told himself as his shoulders sagged. He began to lie down, to catch a few moments of rest, just a few well-earned minutes, or hours, or days, or years, or centuries of sweet sleep.

But something was keeping him awake. A thudding and a sizzling. He heard a distant yell that he recognised. Bert! Oh, Bert always wakes me up, his yelling his tossing and turning his incessant pounding on the walls. There was a thump and a crack. Then another thump and crack, then a fist, Bert’s fist, crashed through the stone and a swirling light poured forth from the newly smashed breach.

Fritz let loose cheering yawn, “Oh hi Bert, give us a hand will you... I’m very, very tired and this mist is probably poison.”

“Fritz, stop lying there and crawl closer. Come on, grab on to me, I’ll pull you out,” Bert called through the hole, sticking a hand out for Fritz to grasp.

Fritz struggled through the fog both in the hallway and in his mind. He crawled forward slowly focusing on Bert’s outstretched hand, and eventually reaching out and clasping it. The grip was tight and he was yanked through the breach bodily. There was a strange force behind Bert’s arm that moved him without pulling his arm out of its socket. It felt somewhat floaty like the world’s weight was suspended for a moment. He closed his eyes and revelled in the lightness.

It reminded Fritz of when he had been struck by Jagged Nic, save the lingering ache in his ribs from the too-quick-to-see punch. Then the weight was back and something shook Fritz’s muddy mind. He realised someone was slapping him lightly. There was a low low warbling tone that slowly shaped into words.

“Fritz, wake up.”

More slapping.

Fritz fluttered his eyes open to gaze upon a frowning Bert and a worried Sid standing behind his golden-haired friend.

“Did I die?” Fritz softly slurred.

Sid sighed with relief rather than her usual annoyance and Bert grinned wide, saying, “He’ll be fine.”

“Can’t believe a trap got him, I thought his Trap Sense would prevent that sort of thing,” Sid remarked now that any question of Fritz’s recovery had been settled.

“Oh, Sid,” Fritz crooned dreamily. “Swift, sly, sapphire eye, much like the willow, will reach to the sky. Stoic and strong, blessed and fair-haired. I need more of the warmth, that we briefly shared.”

Bert turned to watch Sid’s reaction, grinning madly with glee.

Sid seemed stuck for words, caught between amusement and embarrassment. For herself or for Fritz he couldn’t tell. She scowled at Bert’s smug smile and pulled up her scarf, grumbling something Fritz was too dazed to catch. Her earlier question finally broke through his haze. Why did Trap Sense fail? He had asked himself the very same thing. He supposed it was the Spire’s work, using a non-lethal gas and hiding the trap behind Door Sense maybe lessened his Ability's capacity to catch the trap in time.

It was also the eighth floor, things got more difficult and dangerous the higher you climbed. Traps, monsters and other dangers could get shrouded from Senses, he knew that from his father’s Spire tales. He just didn’t expect it so soon. Knowing the Spire, he assumed it was a combination of all those misdirections and more, made specifically to spite him or any decent scout.

After some moments of musing, his vision sharpened and the warbling of sounds ceased. The world became crisp and clear again and his thoughts flowed freely once more.

“Whoa,” Fritz said as everything came into focus. “Sorry, my fellows. I seemed to be trapped in a small delirium there. I didn’t say anything stupid did I?”

“No more than usual,” Bert said smirking. “Just a bit of that poet’s soul leaking out.”

Fritz grimaced and groaned thinking back on what he may have said, it was probably a terribly embarrassing poem, or worse; it might have been bad. He knew it was about Sid and his guts coldly clenched.

He risked a glance at her wool-obscured face, expecting a furious glare, but found her not looking at him at all. She was instead intently focused on the no-longer-hidden hatch with her face both frowning and slightly flushed. Oh so it was just embarrassing then, not infuriating, that’s good at least.

“I think I can clear the mist with my wind strike and arrows,” She stated in a deep gruff tone, muffled slightly by her scarf.

“Good idea,” Bert said still grinning.

Fritz got woozily to his feet, the world ricking for a moment but then settling into normal, well as normal as his sharp senses allowed.

“Sorry, about getting caught in that one,” Fritz said. “Spire really got me good there, I’ll have to be more careful. Apparently, I can’t just rely on Trap Sense or Door Sense all the time. Well, not until I’ve evolved them a couple of times.”

“No harm, no foul,” Bert said.

Sid nodded, accepting his explanation but still not meeting his eyes. She nocked a conjured arrow, bent her bow and the air around her then loosed it through the hatch. Fritz peeked down the opening and saw the mist it seemed to be sinking to the floor and covering it like a carpet of clouds. The arrow passed though the cloud bank dispersing much of the mist. Unfortunately the mist that Sid had scatted with her wind strike simply fell back to the ground re-coalescing with the thick fog.

“Hmm,” Fritz said. “Think we'll just have to cross it, the gas is heavier than the air so as long as we don’t kick too much of it up we’ll be fine.”

“And if we do kick it up a lot it’ll just be a well-earned nap,” Bert added.

“If you ever wake up,” Sid grumbled.

“A well-earned nap,” Bert repeated.

Fritz chuckled and Sid’s lips twitched as she almost smiled.

“Why go down that way?” Sid asked.

“It was trapped. It must be trapped for a reason right?” Fritz espoused sagely. “Treasure or Stairway. Either way, it’s probably worth the risk. Let’s go one at a time so as not to disturb the sleep mist too much.”

Sid nodded in agreement and Bert said, “I would follow our spy-poet anywhere he led.”

Spirits lifted and pride pricked by Bert’s vote of confidence Fritz set off, climbing through the hatch and moving as gracefully as he could so as not to disturb the knee-high fog too much.

He was about a minute down the corridor when he felt a familiar tingle, Door Sense pointing straight ahead. “I feel a door ahead, we’re on the right track.”

After about six minutes of progressing down the corridor, he spotted something in his glowstone’s light, an archway cut into the storm-cloud stone and a set of green-marble stairs leading upwards.

“Stairway!” Fritz cried to his crew, receiving a rough cheer from Sid and a whoop from Bert.

He suppressed his eager desire to move quickly and kept skulking forward, deliberate and alert for any last tricks. It was fortunate that he did as when he was within ten feet of the stairs up he felt the trilling of Trap Sense just where he was about to step. Not good enough Spire, not falling for that one, he thought smirking to himself.

He couldn’t see it but he assumed there was another glyph obscured beneath the swirling fog and so he shimmied around it, then waited for his crew to come close so he could point out the danger. It was easy going from there, only ten more feet and only a couple more glyphs stood between them and the Stairway. they slipped around, below and above the traps with little difficulty and made it safely to the Stairway.

They smiled at each other in their moment of triumph and strode up the stairs to claim their Attributes and see what the next floor had in store for them.