The group all took a few steps back from the open gate. Everyone had seen the drifting clouds of ghosts and while they were not paying the group any mind no one wanted to be the first to draw their ire. Corvayne didn't have experience with them outside of stories, but he was pretty sure they'd react once someone stepped inside the city. Corvayne's gaze drifted across the square before him, tracing the moon lit stones, bluish ghosts, and ruined buildings. He hadn't planned on going in, but something caught his eye.
He didn't look away from the floating figures in the square as he softly said “Hari, can you gauge say, how strong monsters are?”
When he wasn't looking at her the response seemed more confident. “I have to be closer. I'm going to say that fighting a ghost is much harder then most monsters. Hard to see, immune to normal physical attacks, nearly immune to enchanted arms, can attack you through your armor, some of them just drain your life, will move through objects to follow you.”
It was good she was feeling better, even if the news was less then welcome. He turned to her “Ok. So can you assess people?”
She looked both ways, then nodded and lowered her head and voice. “um, I can but it's sort of rude.”
That's a little puzzling. “How would it be rude?”
She rubbed one of her fingers with her other thumb in a circle. “It's like, if you... It's like lifting someone's skirt to get a good look.”
He heard Wick snicker. Corvayne couldn't fathom why Hari had picked that. “How about we say it's like stopping someone's car to look under the hood?”
“What's a car?” She blinked and tilted her head up. Corvayne held a hand up.
“Would it bother you to look at me and gauge how strong I am, then see if you can do the same to a ghost?”
Hari nodded and put a hand on Corvayne's chest. Well, she hadn't lied: With her hand sort of rubbing his shirt he did feel VERY uncomfortable. He saw Wick looking at Hari annoyed, but then Wick looked at him and he saw the anger instantly replaced with amusement, so much that she started cackling which made him feel even more embarrassed.
Hari was ignoring Wick and spoke as she continued to trace her hands over his shirt. “Since I already told you about item tiers... if you were an item I'd say you were exceptional going into apex. I'm surprised... you had told me you were new to adventuring. This is the assessment I'd expect out of someone who's been exploring and fighting for years.“
It would be nice if she could pin down what that meant. “I did a lot of fighting monsters in the desert when I'd do patrols. This is the first dive I've ever done.”
Hari looked between him and the quietly drifting mass of ghosts. “Well unless you have a way of fighting an army of ghosts, I think we should...”
“Does your skill let you get anything at all from afar? I'm asking because there's a chest in that doorway across the way.”
Everyone heard that and turned as one to look. Mosh laughed. “I see it! Oh man you got good eyes Boss!”
Grunt used two fingers to clap. Oh he knew this one: A 'Golf' clap.
Hari turned back to Corvayne. “I don't want to... I feel...” He waited as she blinked her eyes. “I owe you my life. It's not worth going in there, and you um... what about your friends? How many ghosts are going to come running out after them when you get drained to death trying to stop one ghost?”
He looked at Hari and gave her a level look. “I'm going to absolutely crush them unless they are all on the level of my trainers. Even then, they are fighting at a tremendous disadvantage.” He shot a glance over to Wick. “Can you give me the rapier?”
He accepted the thin weapon then turned back to see Hari was giving him some sort of look that was either her being worried or perhaps she was distraught because he didn't think she was correct. Hari turned around and started staring at a ghost. Corvayne guessed it was some sort of extra level of effort to do whatever she was doing: he could see her standing so rigid she shoke a little and that one of her fists was clenched so hard it was white. She managed to break through and let the tension in her drop so fast that she stumbled a step back. Hari sounded a little tired as she turned around and reported facing the rest of the group.
“Notable ranked risk. Keep in mind it's relative to me. But it does mean that each individual one is weaker then you. That hardly matters because there's at least a hundred. If three touch you that could be enough to disable you.”
He gave a little flourish and salute with the Airfoil “Thank you Hari. I'll get this back to you quickly Wick.”
Wick didn't share his assessment. “Corvayne you sure? That's a lot of...”
Watching the ghosts he felt more sure he could handle them. But she had a point. “Mosh, if you could please make a line of salt blocking the entrance, and ask for Lythandies to bless it? It would put my mind at ease knowing the rest of you are harder to reach.”
Mosh looked at him like he was crazy for a half second but then grinned and said “Sure thing Boss!”
Mister I was concerned now. “I understand wanting to climb out on a narrow branch to taste the juiciest apple on the tree, but you are taking a risk...”
Corvayne nodded at him. “I agree. However: I don't think this is a dumb risk. It is a risk, but my gut instincts and my mind both agree I'm going to be able to carve my way to the chest and back without issues, especially with the airfoil. Please move back, perhaps have Grunt with his boots wait near here to warn you if I'm completely wrong and set off a ghost explosion on this floor.”
Wick nodded. “Okay. I trust you. I also agree... we need things for money. We need gear for Hari to fight her way home. We need magic to get more magic.”
Corvayne turned to Grunt, who just nodded. X fingers then tapped his belly, X fingers then raised hand: No guts, No glory.
He wanted to try to get everyone on board. “Mister I... if I kill enough ghosts there might be ectoplasm you can cook with.”
“That would still technically be cannibalism wouldn't it?” The monk frowned with his brow furrowed, then slowly looked up and raised an eyebrow instead. “Unless...”
Hari folded her arms. “How are you going to deal with the chest if there's a trap?”
Corvayne had missed a detail. That's why he appreciated the people with him. “Good point. Stick close to my back once I start wading in. Everyone else, back up. If I get into trouble, do your shadow step to Grunt.”
The elf looked fully horrified at this. “Wait wait wait!”
“I understand. I'll go clear the entire square.”
He put his pack down, only taking the rapier, his spear, and firebreathing dagger. He let his cloak unfurl to full length. Mosh quickly put a line of salt down. “Boss I just wanted to say, it was a real pleasure working with you.”
Corvayne rolled his eyes, then stepped over the line of salt and waited for everyone to back up a few hundred feet.
He made sure he was limber and started using his eyes to track ghosts movements. Where the were flowing. There were clumps... and some strays. First, double check they were hostile. He stepped into the gate, and all the ghosts visible turned and stopped, staring at him. Check complete.
The ghost closest to him, about twenty feet away, howled in a low sorrowful tone then drifted at him at the rate of a jog, bluish claws out, face twisting from a sullen villager to a glowing blue skull with empty eye sockets. More were turning and howling and shifting in appearance from harmless spirits to vengful shades.
He strode forward and activated [Light Cut] as the rapier thrust into the first ghost. The blade gleamed white as it touched the creature with just the tip, the blade's speed urging his arm to pop back out. He did again, activating [Light cut] once more, and again, and again. With six thrusts and six steps he had tagged six ghosts. Each of them shone with light where they had been stabbed, then splattered into a glittering mess with a faint squelching noise. The rapier was a perfect match for the ability, despite the name of the skill using the word cut.
He looked the clumps of spirits floating across the street and over abandoned carts and crates. He could outrun them, but he would need to make room before they just washed over him. Corvayne started running, boots hitting the cobbled stone as he dashed at the concentration of enemies on the far left, blade popping out in a barrage of rainbow colors as he activated [Light cut] over and over, blade trailing radiant energy. He hardly had to stop running forward as he slew an entire pack of ghosts with rapid burst of the skill.
Some of the ghosts he had popped seemed to have a core: uneven rainbow stones that clattered on the ground as he stopped his rush and pivoted, already drawing the rapier in for another barrage of jabs, each time meeting the next clump of ghosts. They seemed endless but each cluster who floated at him was giving him ground to work around the crowd as they drifted after him, arms outstretched.
It wasn't just his sword arm either that was keeping the monsters at bay: his shadowy hand jabbed at a loner ghost, and the limb was unharmed but cold after somehow knocking the incorporeal spirit back. He focused on his footwork, on his blade: Jab, pivot, then attack in a barrage. He had probably dispatched fifty of the monsters and was drifting back to the gate to cut his way to the right side of the plaza before he noticed a few of the monsters acting odd.
One of the ghosts who was a little slower grabbed it's own arm, ripped it off, and hurled it at him. Corvayne skewered it but didn't have time to look for other monsters doing the same: He was no longer pushing forward into the crowd as there was a semi-circle of spirits trying to reach for him with grapsing blue hands. He had to take a step back even as his blade flashed out over and over, each attack split apart by Corvayne using his eyes to pick targets. He took three more steps backwards then darted across the now closing wall of blue to where they had made room on the left side of the Plaza. He could see a side street behind buildings there, and even though he didn't want to move to close quarters he would sooner have his back to the wall then risk his flanks when slashing his way out.
As he watched a ghost float through a cart he had to veer away from the narrow corridor. Walls wouldn't help him here, just distance.
He had left his pack at the gate in case he had to do something unusual in the middle of the fight. He let his ghostly hand hold the rapier for him as he ran right at one of the empty stores then lept, landing on a window and catching himself so that he didn't tumble in, standing as fast as he could then leaping up to grab the edge of a balcony overlooking the street. He smoothly pulled himself up to the second floor then used a window to reach for the roof. In the span of three breaths from being on the street Corvayne was crawling up onto the roof, already running and leaping over the gap to a lower sloped roof as the ghosts started to clump up even further and began floating through the air to try to reach him. Corvayne kept his feet as close to the edges of the building to avoid having the roof collapse: one small thing he was thankful for were shingles being old but intact enough to keep his footing steady as he aimed for the next roof, leaping and landing on his feet, lining himself up for a smaller jump to land on a slopped one story home.
Corvayne landed high on the roof and took a few steps to slow himself before sliding down right off the far corner of the building to land feet first. He felt the shock of impact fade as he ran out of the alley entrance he was in back into the plaza. His shadowy hand passed him back the rapier with only the merest thought of rearming himself. The ghost swarm now was above him and to his sids. He called it a swarm because the majority of monsters had formed a large singular cloud. He ignored the mass that was drifting after him even as a few more started ripping off arms or drifting legs and trying to hit him with thrown limbs. Corvayne instead ran while lashing out with the rapier at the last few ghosts that were not fully bunched up, letting the wind magic do the work as he slew anything remaining on the outer edge of the market.
He couldn't run full speed because of the limbs coming his way: While he aimed for the last four or five stragglers he tried to slide and duck a little and take unusual steps forward and sometimes push himself to roll while keeping the faster ghosts clumped in a ball that had started to follow him around the edge of the square. His footwork failed him as he neared the stone wall with the gate out: a thrown arm splattering on his thigh, feeling a wet snowball as it dissolved. For a moment after that there was a sting like he had held ice too long, then numbness. He kept running even with the numb feeling, and in ten steps felt icy pain creep back in. These ghosts had nothing on skittering death heads he had fought back in the desert. A clump of ghosts came drifting out of a house and he barraged them with a series of [Light Cut], not stopping more then a moment as the enchanted weapon worked his eyes overtime to split attacks.
He completed his first lap and kept running as he assessed the huge ball of ghosts as well as the few glowing dots drifting out of doors and windows. He repeated his next circuit of the square briskly: he could mostly just run and do single [Light Cut] jabs for the four or so ghosts that hadn't joined the ball. He was only a little winded: [Light Cut] made most swords just glow a little and move a little faster and lighter: a distraction. He did not know where the certainty that it would harm spirits came from, but it didn't feel like a gamble. Nor did tucking the rapier into his shadowy hand while drawing his much slower spear feel odd. He had spent the last week trying to think about his tools, the weapons his masters had used, and what kind of monsters he could deal with.
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He took a deep breath, then held his spear low, near his leg. He visualized a scythe, and readied the cross skill he had been thinking of as soon as he had seen the ghosts. The skill that made him state earlier he was confident that he'd win. [Light Cut] was perfect for the rapier, but it was his second pick for this fight. There was a skill that demanded to be used even as clumsy as it was to set it up.
His feet set, he thought back to his scythe instructor. They had demonstrated an oddball technique that was absurdly slow. The instructor had told them that it wasn't for demonstration sake how deliberately they moved the scythe through the air. 'This stroke is meant for exorcisms rather then real fighting.' they said as they started the swing. For as slow as the movement was, it made an impression on him because her blade called out in a ghostly howl and left trail of white mist behind. He suddenly worried it was just a show she had put on for the trainees. Well, no room for doubt now: He had a huge ball of ghosts coming at him.
[Cross skill: Soul Reaper]
He took a step back as he lifted the spear to his side and above, then let it fall in a painfully slow arc before him, as if carefully cutting... no... as if he was driving the spear through the air, pushing it against a growing unseen resistance. The tip of his spear, slowly dragging into the ghost's path, touched the first ghost drifting in the ball when he was a little past the middle of the swing. The tip of the spear stopped... then all the strange energy he had built pushing against the seemingly thick air snapped and bounced his spear back to being held aloft for a moment. Then the form shifted and grew to the cruel form of a scythe with a glowing white blade that he immediately slashed out across the ghosts through the center of the grouping. Instead of resistance, it was like each spirit pulled the scythe through it, the feeling of cleanly cutting something that begged to be sliced.
He felt them cling to his spear as he finished the swing, it looked like the still forms of the wad of ghosts were wet paint, and someone had dragged fingers across them. He wanted to... he needed to finish the work he started. He felt his hand reaching for his rapier, letting his spear settle into a waiting shadow hand. He stepped forward then fired off a barrage with a dozen [Light Cut] mixed in, creating points of light in the now smeared cloud of perfectly still ghosts. He stepped back as the motes of radiance from his jabs spread. The light flared into golds and pinks and blues and greens and reds, every color blooming, deepening, then shimmering and compressing. The ghosts he had hit with both started shining like distant white hot stars. Did he trigger some sort of transformation?
[Combo: Soul Nova]
Well that was a new-
The cloud compressed and exploded, sending Corvayne rolling into a wall which slammed into his back like a sack of bricks. He opened his eyes to raining ghost parts splattering the ground in glittering stones that thumped Corvayne a few times on the head for good measure. He stared at the momentary nova at the center of the open square, steaming souls into the night. He tried not to be distracted by the warm glow of the rapidly fading cloud. He spun once to make sure no more ghosts were hiding in the entrance square, then turned around to go find his friends, stepping past piles of the glowing rainbow stones.
Grunt and Wick were there, just staring at him. Wick's mouth kept opening and closing. It was worth the bruised back to see her at a loss for words.
Grunt took two fingers, twisted his other hand palms up, and golf clapped.
Everyone else started gathering rainbow stones. Whatever they were, they glowed and felt like magic, so they were probably something like 'monster cores', a thing that cropped up in a lot of stories but was handwaved over. Thankfully, there were two people who might know what he was dealing with.
“Mosh, Hari, can you guys tell me what these are?”
Hari crouched and touched one, taking her turn first. “It says that it's crystallized soul. I've never seen it before, nor do I know what it would be used for. It's made from ghost humors and carries great latent magic... if you took a bag of these to a wizard they'd pay you back in gold I'm sure.”
Mosh was looking. He rubbed his fingers on it. “It's a small soul gem, looks like fused protoplasmic glass... Did you nuke the ghosts? Anyway: The rainbow color means they are full to capacity. They can be used to recharge things, or I can grind them up to arcane dust. They are the currency in high magic societies, so we are basically picking up a nice chunk of change here boss! Something I'd have to work three months, and hard, to make hustling crafting contracts.”
“Thanks both of you. By the way it sounds like you both had insights into them. I appreciate the expertise. Hari, can you help me check the chest?”
The chest was peeking out of doorway and stood out as vivid brown whereas the rest of the house was a dingy broken mess of faded colors. There were remains of furniture, a slashed painting, and a few bones under a collapsed pile of wood. Hari gave the chest a quick once over with her hands out. He noted that some of her gestures looked like she was miming the tests he would perform to look for traps.
Hari relaxed and turned to Corvayne. “This is safe to open. Do you wish to take your right to be the first to look inside?”
Corvayne nodded and opened it. The chest was literally packed with goods. It made him feel better about taking a risk: it looked like it was going to pay off.
There were mundane objects of value: Silverware made of silver, a pouch with seven fat gold coins and a handfull of silver coins, a brass lamp that Corvayne felt sad to learn was rated common due to the craftsmanship rather then any dijin inside. There were a few cloth covered paintings that looked like they were done in oil. They were genuinely pretty images of pine trees and coastline. Perhaps he'd put them up in his room with a new frame: the old ones looked cheap. A oilskin wrapped around a wood box proved to be a chess set with brass figures and a wonderful black marble and white jade board. Mosh and Mister I both reached for it.
“Hey Boss... I love chess.” Mosh said, green hand firm on the board even if his smaller arms gave a little as Mister I tugged.
“Ah Corvayne, your good friend Mosh seems to have gripped the chess set...” The monk said as his smile suddenly looked more forced.
“I'm going to give it to Mister I if he agrees to treat us all to ice cream on the drive back, with the option for you to trade for or buy it when you get your ride back to your home planet. In the mean time, you both clearly play, so maybe just share it. Deal?”
Hari pulled out a blue robe with white feathers embroidered on the back and sleeves. It struck Corvayne for some reason, giving him a warm feeling. “I like that robe.”
She held it up. “It's a common magic robe. Many weavers when crafting them pick sky colors and themes to announce what it does. It's durable and it uses energy from falling or being thrown to slow you down to a safe speed. It needs at least twenty feet to make a difference in falling, and further if something throws you.”
“That sounds like it might be very useful for how many of these floors are giant voids.” He thought it reminded him of... a famous painting from an art book? There was a picture of a woman in a blue robe he had always loved.
“I'd ask for it, but perhaps given you found it fetching, maybe we should engage in a small conspiracy to have Wick take it?” She smiled warmly at Corvayne.
“It would pair well with her gloves.” And her. “Wick, this robe slows falling long distances. I think with your climbing gloves it's a good match.” He saw Wick consider it. “It's not too close to a dress, is it?”
She took her jacket and pack off, then put the robe on. “Nope, no PTSD. I'm good. Oh it's really soft! I hope it's washer safe.”
“Hari said it was durable too. So yeah. Probably. Is there a tag?”
Wick, who was a researcher at heart, searched and found no tag with washing instructions on the magical robe.
The next item was a ring with a stylized feather eye setting for a yellow gem that looked like a predators stern gaze.
“Ring of eagle eyes.”
Corvayne noted she didn't do anything but look at it this time. “Not using your ability?”
“This is one of those 'I know it when I see it' things. It can only be a normal eagle eye ring or a cursed one. I'd see a dark aura if it was a cursed ring. These are nice common tier rings for scouting. They improve eyesight”
“I'd like to try it.” Corvayne opened his hand.
He slid the ring onto his ring finger, and noticed that the air sharpened a little.
Corvayne looked at it's raptor-eye yellow and black gem. “Wick if I claim an item, can I later just give it to someone?”
She shrugged. “I think it's fine. Just don't expect anything back.”
Foolish Wick, he thought in his best inner bandit voice, Eagles don't need glasses. My trap to get you to stop wearing them is set now!
The last two things in the chest were a cloth hood. Hari lifted it and looked at it.
“Exceptional class item... this hood has shadow and mind properties.”
“Mind?”
He watched Hari run her nimble fingers along the fabric. Looking at her face, she was nibbling on her lip and concentrating.
“I think it's a hood of shrouding. Provides almost no extra protection but makes the user harder to track or detect through any means. The mind power helps divert attention away from it as well.”
“A hood that lets you sneak even better? I vote we let you have it.” He wondered a moment if Hari maybe helped him with getting the previous two items where they were because she wanted to push for a piece that would help her get home. But he would have voted that way either way, and she seemed genuinely surprised and started waving her hands.
“I couldn't! I mean wouldn't it make more sense for...”
Corvayne shook his head. “It helps us if your totally undetectable, or nearly so. I also want to be sure you'll make it home after you leave us.”
“Thank you!” She hugged Corvayne. He held his hands up while catching Wick's eye. She just looked and laughed.
“Don't look so guilty you dork! Every other nerd would kill to have an elf hug them.”
Hari let go. “I was wrong about being you reckless... it seems you indeed cleared the entire entryway yourself.”
He tried not to think about how soft Hari was as he responded to her. “Not reckless, just a risk taker.”
The last item was in a velvet bag. Corvayne had a hunch and stopped Hari from opening it.
“Turn so you can show everyone.”
He stepped down two steps from the doorway and cramped room to the street. Hari, confused, faced them then took a book out of the bag. She made another really excellent surprised and shocked face. In her high pitched voice she shouted and jumped a little. “It's a better version of my book! A tome of the eye!”
“I gotta get her to open my paychecks.” Wick commented.
Grunt mimed an annoyed over-exaggerated signing motion: Or your bills.
Mister I looked over at Mosh who had his arms folded and was nodding.
“I suppose the mend works very well. I hope it's not an addictive effect.” The monk mused.
Corvayne shrugged. He trusted what Mosh said about the ability helping what people did naturally when working through trauma. Hari meanwhile was hugging the book.
Wick looked at her, somewhat tired. “We keep getting stuff tailored to her skills.”
Mister I looked at her and rubbed his chin. “I think she is of... a material fixation despite her shy demeanor.”
The elf calmed down. “Corvayne with this I can probably get more info on that artifact, and I'll have that potion analyzed for you.”
Grunt made a gesture of finger walking one way, then fingers walking backwards: Do we press on or call it a win?
Corvayne thought about it. The grouping he fought would be exceptionally dangerous if he wasn't as fast as he was with the right tools. Also looking back he had weird certainty that he could win, he knew he had skills that would work, and he also somehow hadn't burned all of his stamina using [Light Cut]. He knew a lot of things but he didn't know HOW he knew them. On the other hand... he looked up at the center of the castle. The same hunch told him that there was something up there, that if he could get to the top the reward would be monumental.
“I think this represents our end goal for exploring this space. As in, something we should consider in training and preparation. I'll scout ahead a little, but if I don't like what I see, we can go back to the forest and continue exploring there.”
Grunt nodded at his idea.
Wick thought about it. “Fine. Just if you have second thoughts, come back and we'll keep pushing through places we know.”
Mister I nodded. “I prefer the woods. For as rich as the treasures we found were, the place feels... cursed.”
Corvayne didn't disagree with the monk as he set his pack down by the entrance. “If I come running, assume that's a good reason to run as well.”
Hari stopped him, and handed him the hood. “Use this. Don't get spotted.”
Corvayne nodded and pulled it over his head. A mental image of her kissing his cheek came up unbidden. Watching Hari step back he rubbed his face then cleared his thoughts again. There was no time to get distracted by elfs, or Wick for the matter: He was going into clearly hostile territory to try to pick out a few more riches, or identify what they'd have to overcome next time. As he started to move into the claustrophobic streets Corvayne couldn't help but look up at the grim pair of skulls etched on the full moons above the tower. He hoped they were not put there just for him.