A drop of sweat slipped down Farad’s forehead, unrelated to the heat radiating from the torch in his hand. If Gerrard was right things were about to get a lot hotter. He really needed to stop volunteering for these sorts of jobs, but Gerrard didn’t have the levels, Jenny was in charge and Balrem was covered in so many abrasions he was as much red as green.
“Whenever you’re ready Farad.”
His grip tightened and he heard the faint cracking of wood over the crackling flame. Not leaving any more room for doubt, he hurled the torch at the open doorway. He didn’t wait to see if it landed, already bolting round the corner. A loud woosh behind him and a rush of arid air confirmed Gerrard was on to something.
He paused listening carefully for a moment, he’d learned his lesson painfully once before that where there was one explosion, more might follow. It felt like half of those who enlisted as mages were just seeking an outlet for their arsonistic tendencies. It was a pity he hadn’t met that particular red head sooner; he might have been able to divert her passion to more mutually pleasurable pursuits.
Reassured by the continued stillness he sent a trickle of mana into the tiny lightstone in his helmet, the pure white light beating back the darkness despite its feeble power. It was one of the few areas where his affinity helped him and he idly wondered if Jenny had tried using a lightstone again since her affinity changed. Peeking his head around the corner he saw ash drifting from the scorched entranceway.
“Looks burnt out. Should I investigate more closely?”
“Proceed carefully, scout to the disk if you think it’s safe to do so, but do not retrieve it.” Jenny ordered.
“Moving out.”
He kept his footsteps light as he jogged over. After the explosion the possibility of stealth was slim, but dungeons were weird and he wasn’t about to give up a potential advantage. Besides, if something had survived that explosion it was bound to be cranky. There was a fine coating of soot barely contrasting on the dark stone of the spiral staircase. He knew he wasn’t one to spot some tiny indication a step was trapped anyway, but the fantasy had been comforting. The tight spiral with a central pillar would make using his spear awkward, but [spear fighting] was a strong incentive to use it regardless. At least the bone shafted spear was a little shorter than his usual weapon.
Stalking up the stairs he heard a faint clamour ahead, keeping his spearpoint steady ahead of him even as he reached a step taller than the others. The curve revealed an unsteady, blackened skeleton and before it had a chance to react further than staggering drunkenly, a [jab] of his spear cracked through its charred ribcage. Bones and weapons clattered onto the steps as whatever foul force had kept the creature animated suddenly ceased. The attack had been mostly by reflex but as Farad glanced at the buckler and two curved swords, he was relieved he’d taken that thing out quickly. It would be a pain to fight in the tight confines.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The charred bones crunched beneath his feet as he continued upwards, the sooner he’d done his job the sooner they could get out of this deathtrap. With all the time Vidan had spent on the light puzzle they’d spent too long here already, though he was hopeful the ranger would be able to give him a few pointers. He was fond of his [Spear Guard] class but he’d been trying to upgrade [jab] to [thrust] for a while now. Maybe it was a sign he needed to grow in a different direction. He had been so focused on his spear and his affinity just hadn’t excited him. As he ascended a few more steps the top of the tower came in to sight, a stone carving of a flaming bird carved into the wall with the flame marked disk in the centre.
“Found it!”
He called back down the staircase, his voice echoing in the tight space. Gerrard would be happy; Jenny wasn’t so petty as to let his earlier insubordination stop him from a chance of improving his class. Then he felt fine particles brush against him even as he saw them swirl through the air while the soot suddenly vanished. In a moment of horror, he called out,
“Dungeon reset! Stay back!”
Shouted orders echoed up from below, likely dealing with the huge skeleton. He mostly filtered them out, he had problems of his own to deal with. The corridor was too tight to spin the spear around quickly and he tried to club the three-armed skeleton as it reappeared, undamaged, behind him on the stairs, with the butt of the spear, wishing it was capped. The skeleton reacted quickly, taking a glancing blow as it spun to face him, moving with much more grace than it had in its charred state.
Farad focused on fending it off for a moment as he tried to get its measure. The creature was disturbingly competent, weren’t skeleton’s literally boneheads? This one could pass as a slightly green guard. Sure, he could beat it, but the extra arm and tight space made things tricky. Ironically, he quickly realised his reversed spear was a blessing in disguise as the biggest danger wasn’t him being hit by those blades slashing back and forth but rather them sparking against the stone. Sooner or later it was going to happen, and he’d rather not see if he could survive being turned extra crispy. He needed to end this quickly, even if it meant taking a risk.
As [jab] came off cooldown he saw his moment and put all his weight and skills behind a single thrust. It dove between the flashing blades, [spear fighting] helping him guide it straight towards the mana gem in the skeleton’s chest, but it managed to interpose its shield at the last moment. That was expected though. [Bash] added force as he mentally thanked Sarge for hammering into him early on that being able to fight with the haft of a spear was just as important as knowing how to use the point. [Lunge] helped him push just a little further as the creature began to tumble backwards. Undeath magics might let the bones move with the strength of a living creature, but a skeleton still lacked the mass that a person would have and Farad had thrown his weight behind the blow. The creature tumbled down the staircase with the crack of breaking bones. Farad dashed down after it, deeply thankful the creature’s footwork wasn’t any better.
The crumpled form was stirring as he reached it but he didn’t slow and felt the crunch of bone beneath his feet once more as he trampled over it. A flailing scimitar bit into his thigh, but he pushed through the pain. Only a few steps from the end he stumbled but Jenny was at the entrance and caught him, dragging him out. As his pounding heart began to slow, he heard steps behind him.
“Jeremy, finish it.” Jenny ordered as she pulled him to safety.
A moment later an arrow zipped past him followed by the now distinctive clatter of a skeleton crumbling.
“Thanks for having my back. Good shot.”