Spire's Spite

The last of the grey-skinned monsters manning, no goblining, the small section of wall fell. Fritz leapt into action, rushing the spiked, ramshackle mushroom and crystal fort with Sid and Bert following fast on his heels.

He unfurled his rope and threw it high, letting it fly over the battlements with its loop catching on one of the more prodigious spikes. He pulled the rope taut and clambered up the wall’s sheer and sharp surface, making sure not to skewer his soles.

Fritz pulled himself over the wall’s lip, managing to graze his arm, but suffering no other injury. As soon as he had his feet on the walkway he drew out his bone dagger from his belt and fended off a worker goblin with a thrusting jab into its prominent ribs, he swiftly kicked the now dead body off his blade and into the horde below. Fritz stepped to the right as Bert came over the wall, lunging left and punting a goblins head clean off its shoulder as it peeked over the wall’s floor. Sid came up last, quickly slashing the arm off an attacking worker with her fin sword.

“Sid, get the rope!” Fritz ordered having forgotten the uselessness of his left hand when coming up with his plan. His mostly mental injury hadn’t been enough to hinder him when climbing up but untying a knot was another thing entirely and he didn’t much want to waste time or cut away more of his precious rope.

Sid nodded and got to work.

“Bert, the acid if you would,” Fritz suggested as more screeching goblins began to turn their way hurling stones and crystal shards with amazing inaccuracy.

The screeches of fury were replaced with shrieks of agony as the acid sprayed over the goblins in a wide arc. Bert’s Ability seemed to last for about a second before the sour liquid stopped gushing from his palm. He let loose another jet of Corrosive Spray for good measure as the creatures ran from the caustic mist it left floating in the air. It was even more effective at clearing a path than Fritz had hoped it to be. The goblins took notice of the terrible pain their blistered and melting brethren were in and gave Bert a wide berth. They even went so far as to pull other workers in front of themselves as shields or just break completely, madly fleeing into the waiting weapons of the warriors.

It was chaos, but one they could take advantage of. Bert ran on ahead into the sparse clouds of his Corrosive Spray before they fully dispersed, causing him to flinch slightly but push on through the searing suffering all the same. Fritz cursed under his breath but knew they had to stick to the plan, even if he didn’t like seeing Bert hurt. “I didn’t tell him to do that, but it's too late now,” He told himself, even as his voice was drowned out but the shrill clamour of the battlefield.

Fritz waited for most of the mist to die down, a couple of moments at most, then activated his barrier ring, feeling the second skin slightly dull the world around him as he was enveloped. He ran forward, chasing after Bert as his friend sprayed another gout of acidic liquid. Fritz had to grudgingly admit, reluctant as he was, that the Caustic Spray had been a great choice for Bert, and by extension the crew. A truly terrifying Power, but one he knew was hard won.

The goblins scattered out of their path, glaring at them warily and keeping on the defensive if not outright fleeing the towering humans. This held true until Bert met the line of warriors, who stood in disciplined ranks and were soaked by his Caustic Spray. The wall of shields sizzled and steamed. Fritz and Sid rushed to his side, the wind spun and an arrow speared through a pitted shield and into the goblin behind.

That was enough to fracture the formation and Fritz and his crew charged, Sid slinging her bow onto her shoulder and pulling out a glowing baton from where it had been tucked into her her quiver that she kept looped to her belt at her side. Bert hit the shield wall where it had faltered, breaking through with his enhanced strength and a fist pulsing with force. He had pushed through the first line and was now in the midst of the goblin ranks, wreaking havoc with quick compact punches. Sid ran in next, more menacing the warriors with her baton than trying to actually hit any of the goblins. But it was working spectacularly as the warriors stepped back, having obviously tasted the baton's stupefying effect before and dreading its touch.

Fritz was last into the fray but no less frantic as he slashed and stabbed with his bone dagger. He only caught a couple of unwary or distracted warriors, but when he did he cut vital veins and impaled important organs. In what seemed like hours but was likely only a minute Bert had breached the back line and Sid and Fritz had followed quickly behind him stabbing, hacking and slashing through the grey-skinned army the whole way. Fritz had taken a couple of scratches here and there and Sid’s breastplate looked scuffed in places but they had made it through with nothing in the way of serious injuries.

Bert of course braved the brunt of the assault but still took the least noticeable damage, a combination of his skill, agility and ridiculous toughness Fritz supposed. Not having much time to marvel at their success so far, Fritz sprinted ahead to the tower's base, its bright glow bathing him in blue-white light as he reached its closed, tall gate. It was far less impressive than he had thought it to be. When he got to the dark gate, it was only about six feet tall, Sid might even bump her head on the door frame if she ran through without ducking slightly. He’d mistaken its size as his frame of reference was the goblins around it and he’d gotten used to and forgotten their lesser, diminutive stature.

Not missing a beat Fritz put away his dagger, unslung his pack and retrieved his fish blade from its loop all in a flurry of precise, practised motion. Although he almost fumbled his sword when he felt the strange eldritch power twisting in the blade's opaline core resonate with something in his Sanctum. He shook his head dispelling any thoughts on the matter, and focusing on the moment and the task at hand. Saw down the gate, think later, Fritz told himself as he set the biting edge of Quicksilver to the gate’s grid-like bars.

Fritz had been correct about the bars being painted dark like something that might resemble iron, but was in fact mushroom. He had, however, been less correct about how easy it would be to saw through the tough shafts. He struggled with the first section for a moment before he was able to notch the hard wood-like substance, luckily once it was cut it was far easier to get the sawing motion right and he was through the first bar within a couple of seconds, which would’ve been nothing when staking out an estate, but in a battle was far too much time to be wasting.

“Need help,” Fritz called out.

Then Sid was there, cracking the bars with overhead swings of her baton. Fritz kept cutting and sawing away the damaged pieces of the gate while Bert protected the rear, fending off any of the warriors that challenged their position. After a minute of fierce work and fighting Fritz had cut a hole big enough for them to use if they ducked, he did so leading the way into and up the tower’s slanted and irregularly tilted steps.

They were through, up and climbing, Bert keeping an eye out behind them, but none of the goblin warriors followed, they were either too afraid of the humans might or of facing their Chieftain's fury at their failure.

The tower's interior was bright, light pulsed and gleamed through the crystal walls and floor, lines of radiant energy zipped by, threatening to dazzle the senses in a prismatic display. Fritz shook himself out of his stupendous wonder and shook Sid and Bert as they stood fascinated by what they saw. Sid grunted, and Bert grumbled but they kept moving, finding the staircase up easily.

Not giving the fantastic sight another moment's thought or appreciation they continued up the tower.

There were still warriors, captains and one shaman patrolling or hiding myriad rooms and warren-like hallways of the fake spire, but they stood as no threat to Fritz and his crew. The goblins quickly found themselves stabbed in the throat, having their heads caved in by Bert’s mighty fists or stunned by Sid’s baton and easily finished off. No, the greatest danger was traps. Many arrow, spike pit and tripwire alarms were scattered haphazardly in the narrow halls and staircases or crystal. None were able to foil Fritz’s senses though as he led his fellows onwards and towards the Stairway.

His Door Sense led them up and up, until on the ninth-floor landing the trilling pulled his attention to the left and down the brightly lit hall that ended with a heavy door flanked by two guards. The two goblins were wearing what was probably the highest quality armour the fort could provide, made with piecemeal mushroom and crystal plates and accompanied by large slabs of mushroom wood.

The door guards spotted the trio immediately and raised their weapons, long rods of radiant crystal while hefting their overlarge shields in front of their noticeably taller and more muscled bodies. Well muscled for goblins at least, Fritz thought as the guards locked shoulders and shields.

“Bert,” Fritz said.

“On it,” Bert replied grinning and dropping his pack to the ground.

He sprinted down the hallway, his golden mop of hair trailing behind him. Bert leapt into a dive over the goblin’s shields and heads, narrowly avoiding the glowing rods that poked at him, with a spinning motion in mid-air and landing behind them in a roll. Bert was quick to his feet and far quicker to turn than his opponents as he swept the legs out from under the goblin to his left the struck the other with a rippling punch with a motion so clean it almost looked like it had barely hit the creature's temple.

The blow had struck though, and hard, as evidenced by the goblins skull exploding like a dropped keg of ale and splattering the bright wall with dark green blood and chunks. The other prone guard scrabbled on the ground abandoning its tower shield and trying to stand. Bert was on it in a moment kicking at its head, which it attempted to dodge by ducking forward. Unfortunately for the goblin, Bert’s swift kick connected with its neck instead, killing it instantly with a noise that sounded like the snapping a branch.

Bert stood there and shrugged, then motioned for the other two to hurry up.

“You know, I wanted you to use Corrosive Spray on them. But I’m barely even mad, that was far more effective,” Fritz said impressed.

“And fearsome,” Bert added smugly.

“And fearsome,” Fritz agreed.

“Also there were no screams,” Sid said.

“Yes, the screams, they do tend to grate,” Fritz mused aloud.

“I dunno, I just tend to zone them out,” Bert said blandly.

“I mean, so we’re not given away by all the racket,” Sid said seriously.

“Yes, that too,” Fritz said.

Bert nodded his head at the door and said, “Trapped?”

Fritz focused on the crystal-reinforced door but felt no warnings trill in his mind, “Seems safe enough. Though, what’s on the other side will be the real danger. The Stairway is close but this also looks like an important room, what with the well-equipped guards and all, no doubt the Chief will be close or even in this room,” Fritz espoused.

“Tactics?” Sid asked.

“Bert, spray any guards, Sid and I focus on the Chief or any captains or leaders one at a time, got enough for a wind strike?” Fritz said

“One,” Sid answered.

“Well, I haven’t used any Abilities yet but all this running and fighting has left me about three spell casts,” Fritz informed his crew. “If the Stairway is in there we flee into it on my command or if I fall, got it?

“Got it,” Sid said gruff as ever.

“Sure,” Bert said sceptically.

“Fine pull me out if you must, Bert, but if I’m dead leave me and take my pack,” Fritz ordered while Bert looked at him aghast as if he had read his mind.

Fritz glared at him until Bert grumbled out, “Fine.”

“What about the Chief's Treasure? You said it might be a sound-based compulsion. Should we cover or plug our ears?” Sid suggested.

Fritz thought for a moment, recalling all he knew of such things, which turned out to be surprisingly little.

He nodded, “It can’t hurt, any ideas on how should we do that?”

“Rags?” Sid said pulling a couple of strips from her pack and handing them out.

Fritz took the cloth and rolled it tightly into something that could stick in his ear, plugging it and muffling the sounds from that side. He continued with the other, dampening his sense of hearing somewhat but not completely. It seemed that his Perception Attribute had enhanced his senses enough that it felt like he could almost hear as well as he could before he had aligned his first Attributes.

He pulled out the cloth plugs and shook his head, Sid pulled one from her ear and turned to him asking, “What's wrong?”

“I don’t think it’ll work for me. My Perception is too high, can hear fine when my ears are plugged,” Fritz said sighing and putting on an air of disappointment he didn’t actually feel.

“Oh, woe is you. My Attributes are too high, boo hoo,” Bert mocked.

Sid smirked and Fritz joined her.

“We’ll just have to hope I can shake it,” said Fritz.

“If anyone’s going to shake it It’ll be me,” Bert said as he danced for a second, moving his hips with a quick shimmy.

That brought a laugh to the whole crew. It settled down quickly when Fritz motioned at them to quiet down, worried that the goblins beyond might hear through the heavy door.

He listened for a moment but heard nothing. He sighed in relief, the last thing they needed was for the Chief to be aware of their assault.

“Last thing, since you two will be deafened I’ll conjure my Illusory Shadow as the signal to flee through the Stairway. So keep an eye out. Anything else?” Fritz asked.

The others shook their heads.

“Well, Bert my boon companion, the door’s all yours,” Fritz said and they put their earplugs in.

Bert sidled up the door, pulled its handle down and attempted to push the door open with his shoulder. He thudded against it softly but the door stayed shut.

Barred, Fritz realised at the same time his friend did. Bert stepped back a pace and braced himself, then his leg rippled with nigh invisible energies and he kicked the door with all his might. Something let out a loud crack beyond the barred door. Fritz heard accompanying noises of startled high voices and Bert wreathed his leg in pulsing force again. With a step and a spin, he kicked again, right in the same splintered place.

This time the door burst inward with a bang then a thud and a yell. The mushroom door bounced back when it slammed into a goblin guard’s face and knocked the staggering creature sprawling to the floor. Bert pushed through the swinging door and stepped into the room beyond, right onto the goblin’s armoured chest as it tried and failed to sit up. With the guard pinned under his foot, Bert searched the area and held up his hand palm out and to the left, showering another goblin with his Corrosive Spray.

Fritz followed in behind Bert, and quickly ducked under a scintillating rod swung from his right and aimed at his friend's back. Fritz stabbed up and to the side with his bone dagger catching a guard in the gap between its crystal plate, plunging the curved point deep into its armpit and piercing its lung. He was tempted to activate his blade’s curse but decided not to waste it on this gasping, grasping goblin.

He pulled his dagger free from the goblin’s side as it struggled to get away from him, its wound bubbling and softly hissing with its breath. Fritz took a moment to survey the situation. Spotting the Chief sitting in its shining, glittering crystal throne at the end of the room with another ten guards arrayed around it. Scratch that. Nine, he amended as one fell from a well-placed sling stone that crushed its windpipe, sending it kneeling and clutching uselessly at its ruined throat.

A pulling sensation tugged his eyes to just beyond the throne and Fritz saw the Stairway in all its green-marbled majesty, just twenty feet away taunting him with how close it was.

Bert finished off the goblin he had been standing on with a stomp of his heel breaking the creature’s head apart like a crisp apple being juiced.

Fritz began to charge at the throne then the Chief stood, pointed his ringed hand and in a dark, deep voice spoke, “Stop!”

A golden ring bejewelled with dark gems of purple, softly pulsed with grey and the order echoed around the room in a thrumming wave, staggering human and goblin alike. Fritz tripped as he couldn’t compensate for his momentum and he fell face-first onto the glittering ground. There was a crack as he hit the floor hard and his nose burst into near-blinding pain, spurting blood and staining the clear crystal crimson. All remained still save the goblin chief as it stepped forward from its throne and pulled its crystal sword free from its sheath revealing its burning bright blade.

Fritz threw off the weight that pushed down on his body and mind and rapidly rose. Thankful he hadn’t fallen on the point of his own dagger, he rushed at the Chief, intent on stopping it from using its Treasure again. It looked at him with a scowl that might have hidden mild surprise, its flaming eyes alight with malice and it pointed its horrible, bone-like finger directly at his chest.

“Kneel,” The pale Chief spoke again in deep, guttural tones. The ring darkened again with magic, this time though the grey pulse was focused on Fritz rather than the room at large.

He world went fuzzy at the edges and Fritz obeyed, slamming his knees brutally against the hard crystal of the floor and feeling like they would shatter from the impact. Kneeling he let out a hiss of pain.

The Chief grinned, displaying its cruel mouth filled to the brim with mismatched, blackened, needle-like fangs. It giggled low and dark, a sound that put Fritz’s ears on edge and made his stomach sink.

He struggled against his own clenched muscles as they refused his control and twitched violently. Around him he could see his crew stir, fighting off the Chief's command. The pale goblin saw his eyes flicker to his companions and turned to observe them without any haste, as if everything was under its Power, in its demesne and nothing could hurt it here.

When it saw Bert slowly moving an arm, the Chief spoke again, “Stay!”

Again a pulse of near imperceptible grey magic washed over the room as the word reverberated in his body and mind, ringing in his ears and stiffening his joints. It seemed to have redoubled the effect on his crew and they stood unmoving as did all the guards caught up in the compulsion.

Fritz fought with everything he had against the mental bonds but they were unyielding.

The Chief turned its attention back to Fritz and strode over to stand before him. It brought up its radiant crystal sword with that same deliberate grace he had seen before, taking all the time it needed to place the cut perfectly.

It spat a word from its mad, gnashing grin. The sound held a sentiment Fritz knew quite well, no matter the language, “Die.”