That sense of unease only grew as we marched on. It felt much like having a stray bit of twine sticking in your sock, jabbing your ankle over and over again, all the while you prove incapable of finding the cause of your distress. I did my best to ignore the feeling as we neared the pyramid. We, and by that, I mean primarily the rest of the party, handily dispatched five packs of boarhounds on the march, my increasing sense of uselessness growing with every monster slain not by my own weapon. It was as the final skirmish faded when I was finally gifted with a blessed sight.
==========
=Level Up!=
- Congratulations, you are now - Level 6
==========
Promptly, I sat my ass in the dirt and pulled up the system with little more than a casual thought, and looked over the pittance the arcana had decided I deserved. The first increase was a single point in strength and another in constitution, which was making me quite the thick-skinned warrior goddess, I ideally thought, idly glancing at Carlyn, taking in the other woman's powerful build, her well-defined musculature. Damn, that woman’s a real goddess, I thought, then heard my own inner monologue and cursed myself. What the fuck was I doing?
Refocusing on the system windows to distract myself, I realized that I’d somehow gained another point in strength between the last time I’d checked my status and now, bringing me up to eleven points in the stat. The only other thing of note I noticed was the new ability, ‘utilized proficiencies,’ which added half of all my proficiency bonuses to any action I take, which was kind of vague, but I guess was probably a good thing. I was pretty sure I only got a plus one from my sword dancer’s proficiency skill so I wasn’t really gaining anything from the new ability yet.
And just so you can all nerd out with me here, my updated status boxes looked something like the following:
==========
=Status=
-Name: Mairenn Crowe
-Blessing: Reverse Minstrel
-Level: 6
-Experience: 320/72,900
-Attribute points: 0
-Skill points: 0
-Ability Points: 0
-health: 38/41
-Stamina: 31/41
-Mana: 7/7
=Attributes=
-Strength: 11
-Dexterity: 13
-Constitution: 16
-Intelligence: 10
-Wisdom: 8
-Charisma: 9
-Luck: 10
=Skills=
-Sword Dancer’s Proficiency
-The Minstrel’s Taunt
-Oration Casting
-Demotivating Call
-False Rest
=Abilities=
-The Minstrel’s Luck - Rank II
-Utilized Proficiencies
==========
I was certainly feeling the lack of mana I had at this point, what with my health and stamina far outclassing that resource while I was still continuing to grow more reliant on spells in combat to support my lacking strength. The problem was I could only cast two or three spells at this point before running out of mana. Jones and Carlyn both suggested I try adding my next points to either charisma or intelligence but I was still on the fence about it.
Firstly because I was nearing the supposed cap in my constitution, twenty points, a peak that some claim only those who are semi-divine might obtain, and secondly because I was unsure of who I might become should I be a bit smarter. That might sound stupid, but I was quite attached to who I was and I did not want to risk losing that just to cast an extra spell or two. Even if the other two magic users kept telling me I’d be fine, I still was not feeling like it was a great idea.
Also, as for that new single stat in strength, apparently, according to Borgen, it was possible to grow your physical stats up to fourteen without the system, but the system itself was in turn often stingy with physical attribute points. I didn’t comment on the fact that those were the only points the system was giving me for some reason. Something told me that would be better to keep to myself for now.
As we neared the great floating pyramid of doom we realized that the thing was floating a good twenty feet off the ground for some reason, leaving only a broad swath of bare land open beneath it. That was where we found the boss of this floor, a giant meatcube the size of an elephant with a single bony, multi-jointed arm that was more than four times the length of the monster’s body.
The plan was simple. We decided to sleep and deal with the problem in the morning. Tonight we would drink, which I was more than fine with, though I was reluctant to risk a repeat of last time. That reluctance faded as I downed one cup, then another, and another, until I was so far gone to drink that I found myself laying on my back, staring up at the starlit sky, and laughing for no reason at all as someone beside me said something I couldn't understand.
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A splash of something wet and cold hit me, jerking me upright with sudden clarity. Jones and Borgen stood over me, Jones’ wand still glowing with the residual energies of his spell as Borgen gave me a tight-lipped frown. Jones shot another spell to my left and Carlyn popped up from the grass a moment later and I felt my face flush, now understanding Borgen’s disapproving expression.
“Thanks,” I said weekly, rubbing the back of my head and looking away. Inwardly I cursed myself for being a fool, thankful that at least nothing had happened because of Borgen and Jones. Another part of me wondered if it would have been so bad if something had happened, but I squashed it without any hesitation.
“Don’t mention it,” Borgen said. “Just keep yourselves out of trouble.” He gave his sister a particularly pointed glare that didn’t seem to phase the agondlon woman in the slightest. Borgen gave a snort at her indiferent defiance. “Fine. Just make sure you’re up at first light as planned.”
“It is my plan,” Carlyn said with a shrug. “Don’t you worry about it. We’re all adults here. Everything’ll be fine.”
Borgen frowned down at her for a few more seconds, then just shook his head. “Sleep well, Crowe,” he said to me as he left, one hand on Jones’ shoulder, half dragging the other man back to camp.
“Well,” I said to Carlyn, getting to my feet and brushing off the accumulated dirt and grass clinging to my trousers. “I suppose I should go find a place to set up for the night.”
“You’ve got a tent?” Carlyn asked, raising one eyebrow and smiling slightly as if she already knew the answer, which was no. Out of everything I could have brought with me, I failed to buy a tent.
“I’ll figure it out,” I said with a half-hearted shrug, Idly wondering if I might be able to squeeze in with Borgen.
“Or you could just sleep in mine,” She said, almost offhandedly. I opened my mouth to protest but she continued. “My brother snores like a bear, Jones never shares with anyone, and I doubt you’d enjoy Nika and George’s nighttime activities as much as they do.”
I frowned, trying to find a counterargument and failing after only a second or two. “Fine,” I said with a resigned sigh. Just one night wouldn’t be the end of the world, I told myself.
“Follow me then,” Carlyn said, her usual coy grin almost predatory in the moonlight, and I couldn’t help the not-quite-unpleasant shudder that rolled through me at the sight. She led me wordlessly to her tent, set up at the outer edge of the camp, my mind wandering at the possibilities such a spot might afford before I silenced the errant thoughts with the force of my building frustration.
Carlyn ducked inside as I began to slide off my boots and push in after her, but I hesitated at the threshold. Should I do this? I wondered, then shook myself. It wasn’t a big deal, I told myself. Nothing was going to happen. It would just be one night. Not giving myself another second to overthink things, I went in.
A hint of cinnamon and ginger hung in the air as I ducked inside, gently drawing me further into the tent in the way that a lover’s gentle touch draws one further into a kiss. I opened my mouth to speak once the tent flap closed behind me, sealing itself with some kind of magic, but only found myself at a loss for words as a sharp self-satisfied grin worked its way across Carlyn’s features.
“I knew you’d come to me eventually,” she said, then closed the distance between us and brought her mouth within an inch of mine. “May I?” She asked, warm breath brushing my lips with the slight scent of peppermint.
An involuntary shudder ran down my spine and my chest began to ache. My mind screamed ‘no,’ with all the force it could muster, but that part of me that thought of her, that wanted her, was asking me why should I turn away?
I’d already broken one vow, what was another? Who’s to say Síle would even still be waiting for me after all of this was done? What was the point of holding back now? It was an undeniable part of myself that wanted this, and with the pleasant warmth of Carlyn’s closeness, that sweet smell of her lingering between us, I felt myself speak one traitorous word.
“Yes.”
In an instant her lips were on mine, her kiss dragging me free from the burden of my thoughts, drowning out my ego in an electric tide of desire as her hands drifted up my arms in soft, lazy lines.
I reached out in reflex to pull her into an embrace, my mind lost to the sensation of her, only for Carlyn to seize me roughly by the shoulders and push me to the ground.
My lips parted with surprise and a moment later her tongue darted out to meet mine, her fingers already dancing over the buttons of my tunic as she straddled my hips, pinning me to the tent floor. My left hand gripped her hair in a tangled knot, my right struggling to help undo the buttons as my whole being screamed with pure carnal desire and I gave up all hope of resisting.
Her fingers dug at my shirt with a frantic frustration before, with a sudden surge of strength, she simply took the tunic in both hands and ripped it down the middle leaving me exposed from the belt up, and I felt myself pebbling from a mixture of need coursing through me and the slight chill to air inside the tent.
“Hey,” I half protested as she pried her lips from mine. “I liked that shirt.”
Carlyn gave me a half smirk, then grabbed her own tunic and did likewise to it, the now torn scrap of cloth sliding off her arms in slow sensualness, leaving her atop me, chest heaving as she replied. “There, now we’re even.”
I felt a flush steal across my cheeks as she dipped her head back down and pressed her lips against my neck, drawing a moan from my throat like a weaver drawing out spun strands of silk. Her fingers traced out a soft sort of magic across my chest as a soft groan escaped my lips.
My arms tightened around her back in reflex, and I was only slightly surprised to find the scale-like scutes running down her spine as my fingers dug in around their edges, eliciting a chuckle from the other woman, her hot breath tickling the skin of my neck. I glanced down to find her giving me a questioning expression.
“They make for a good handhold,” I said, still breathless.
“Better hold on tight, then,” she said and slowly began moving her kisses lower down my neck, to my chest, one hand cupping my left breast, the other on my waist as she began drawing lazy lines with her tongue. My back arched and I had to bite my lip against the rising noise in my throat as an ache between my legs became a desperate, surging need.
My hands tightened around the scutes on her back and the other woman gave a slight shudder. “Interesting,” I said playfully, still out of breath, then tried to roll Carlyn onto her back, only to find the other woman an immovable wall of stone.
“I’m not done yet,” Carlyn said coyly, pushing me back down as she pulled her head back. Her fingers began playing along the hem of my trousers. “I’m just getting started.”
Without warning her hand dipped below the line of my pants, her fingers darting straight towards the wetness between my legs. She pressed her lips to mine once more, fingers lightly painting pleasure through my core as my aching desire grew and grew and grew until she brought me right to the edge and stopped.
A frustrated groan escapes my throat as she drew her lips away again, and I tried in vain to press myself against her hand again, but she pressed me down again with almost bruising force.
She smiled as she withdrew, licking her lips as she stared at me, bared for only her to see. I squirmed for a moment under her gaze, then arched my back as she dipped her head down, her tongue carving pleasure into my being.
She toyed with me for a while, fingers and mouth working until in a shuddering gasp I found release, collapsing limply beneath her arms, my chest heaving with exhaustion.
“Not bad,” I said between breaths as the other woman drew away. “But now it's my turn.” And so saying I dove atop the other woman, my mouth meeting hers once more, and so we continued on and on, pleasuring each other long into the night until we both lay there on the tent floor drenched in sweat, pleasurably exhausted, but still somehow unsatisfied.
Not for a second that night did I so much as think of my wife.