Walking up the seemingly endless stairs, Frey panted with much effort, staring longingly at the final step, reaching his hand up towards it, wanting nothing but escape from the hell that was these stairs. He wanted to drink water, but was scared that his meager water bottle wouldn’t last him, and had promised himself to only drink once he reached the top. Now that the top was within sight, he could do nothing but think of the sweet nectar flowing down his parched throat. How moist it would feel around his chaffed lips, how wonderfully wet his body would be.
With effort, Frey clawed his way up the last step, lying down on his back to stare up at the dull, dark ceiling. He breathed heavily and quickly. Greedily, he pulled his bag atop himself, searching within and pulling out the wondrous and weirdly shaped water bottle. Unclogging it, Frey let the weirdly cool water pour down atop himself, opening his mouth in a lazy attempt at drinking the godly nectar. The cooling effect of the water and its wonderfully, delightfully delicious content made Frey not consider that he should probably not waste all of his water on something so trivial. But Frey wasn’t thinking that far, not at the moment. Right now, he was just delighting in the ecstasy that was water.
Eventually, after an awfully long time and finally feeling quenched, Frey realized he must have poured probably several liters of the delicious liquid. But looking at it, it couldn’t hold more than half a liter at most.
Magic came to mind, and Frey quickly sat up, holding the bottle over the stairs and poured out its content, staring as water flowed, flowed and flowed. Not stopping even after holding it for several seconds.
The realization that he was holding a bottle of endless water, or BOEW for short, made Frey giggle in joy. Hugging his first magical artifact and whispering sweat nothing into its ear, stroking it lightly. Then, remembering his spear, and to not make it feel left out, started stroking it too. Stopping immediately upon feeling kinda gay.
With a hue of red to his cheeks and an awkward cough, Frey stood up, holding his now very phallic looking spear in one hand, and the bag containing his BOEW in the other. Quickly, he strapped the spear around the bag and finagled the two to be strapped to his back, not wanting to look at his spear too much, lest he get gay.
Finaly done with his stupidity, Frey noticed the door in front, the same weird normality as the ones he’d already opened before. The same metallic looking, modern security door. Walking up, Frey opened it and spotted the same holy light that had been in the room containing his bag. The light shined down upon what looked like a black mirror, with a rim of silver surrounding it. Other than that, the room was empty, except for the door on the other side of the room, presumably leading further into the tower.
Walking in, Frey confidently walked up to the mirror, looking it up and down, finding it bigger than he himself was. Something that impressed him, as he was obviously on the bigger and hotter side than the average person.
But as Frey came within a meter of the mirror, his reflection appeared from the darkness, looking oddly odd. Then beginning too, morph. His reflection turning in a circle around itself whilst he looked perfectly still within the mirror. The mirror continued circling, and the blackness seemed to gain colour around his reflection. Quickly after, the colour got sharper, and the morphing slowed, revealing Frey standing in a room. Though, the room in the mirror differed vastly from the room he was actually standing in. Too colorful and too bright.
Suddenly, within the mirror, a hot babe walked up to him and his mirror-self turned towards her. The two then started making out and yet another hot babe came within view, caressing and massaging his back. Then even more babes emerged.
A scene straight out of a horny teenager’s dream, a dream Frey had already had. The very dream he would wish for once he climbed this tower.
Frey practically drooled at the scene, finding himself entranced. The scene then slowly morphed away, much to Frey’s dismay, and into what appeared to be words. After a quick second, the words became readable, and Frey read, “You know how to get it”. Words that burned a fire within Frey, a fire that burned both in his soul and his nether-region.
Quickly, almost running, Frey got to the door leading further into the tower, pushing it open with a slam. After the blast of sound abated without the sound of a monster being smacked in the head, Frey looked around, met with the sight of nothing. Nothing. Only darkness.
He took a step in, thinking it to be the same darkness that had existed before he entered the earlier doors. But no, no it was just very dark. So dark that he couldn’t see his hand even when he held it in front of himself.
For a second, Frey just stood there, captured by the darkness, emotion hidden in the dark. But those hidden emotions changed, changed to another hidden emotion as the sound of him ruffling through his bag muffled out into the dark darkness. A dark darkness that flashed to light with small sparks, sparks that quickly turned to embers that turned into a raging fire, dousing the darkness in light and from it, emerging a smiling Frey with a torch held in one hand.
“And god said, let there be light!”
He shouted in delight, smiling brightly as he pushed his thick torch up into the air, staring at it in wonder, staring at it until a shadow underneath it appeared. Looking down, he realized he was staring down at a monster whom was staring back at him, both looking quite queer.
A monster that looked all kinds of slimy, with scales in the colour of purple, eyes slitted and blinked with two eyelids. Frey blinked, the two-eyelid monster blinked. It was not as big as Frey, but if it stood on its toes, it could probably kiss his chin, a little bigger than a goblin. It reached its hand up, exposing what appeared to be a club to Frey’s flickering torchlight, and swung it at the still shocked Frey, hitting him on the side of the head.
Falling down on his back with a bolting headache, Frey quickly started flailing with his limbs in an attempt to ward off the sudden monster attack. Looking like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum after not being given candy. Yet, through the flailing limbs, he felt his leg hitting something, a crunch echoing out and a whiny guttural squeal following.
Torch in a death-grip, Frey groggily looked around while on the ground, spotting through hazy eyes the monster also lying on the ground, its leg bent in the wrong direction as it held it within clawed hands. As quickly as Frey’s disoriented head allowed, he fished out his spear, managing through luck to not cut his bag in the process. Then, with an awkward swing, cut off the head of the scaley, slimy monster. Or rather, the top half of its upper body in a zig-zag cut. A spurt of green blood coming out after, followed by a trickle.
Frey fell back with his head, eyes spinning in circles as he swallowed the taste of bile rising in his throat. Spear lying next to him with the torch in his other hand, splayed out like the cross of jesus, staring up at a darkened ceiling, pondering how many more times he’d have to stare up at a ceiling before he got his bitches- his wish.
It did not go over his head that the monster had hit him on the head. Thoughts drifting to karma, something about leaving the helmet behind crossed his mind, pushed aside as he cursed god for obviously punishing him for having a sense of fashion.
And with the thoughts, he came to promise himself to not falter. To not falter to the whims of gods poor fashion sense, even if it meant that they would try to punish him.
Eventually, the bile subsided, and his spinning head turned normal. It still throbbed with pain, but it wasn’t something Frey couldn’t deal with, he was used to it. Promptly pushing himself up on two feet, he looked around, trying to see or hear anything else within the dark. Not seeing much as the light of the torch could only reach so far.
What he could see was what appeared to be a corridor leading in two directions. One to his left, the other to his right. The corridors being the same kind off, stoney cave as with the level that contained the goblins, albeit looking smoother, and dug rather than natural. But little else to speak of. Everything else being very, lifeless. Including the decapitated body of the scaly monster. A monster that, getting a closer look at, looked like a humanoid dragon, or like, maybe a kobold. It was a lot slimier than he thought a kobold would look like, but otherwise, it was practically spot on.
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After rummaging through the dead kobold, Frey found, to his delight, a health potion. But to his dismay, finding it very slimy. Other than that, nothing else. Of course, he could take the club, but that thing was far inferior to his wonderous spear. Looking to his right and left, he decided on a direction at random and started walking. Walking towards the left.
Only to quickly come to a dead end, turning around and walking in the opposite direction. Wondering why he was even given a choice.
Walking in the darkness, with monster lurking around any corner, any bend, any dark spot, one would assume Frey to be on edge, to stay wary. The way he walked revealed non-of that though, instead whistling loudly out of tune to a song even he had forgotten how it went. Tapping away with his finger on his spear as he held his torch in front lightly.
The long, dark corridor eventually revealed itself to not only be a corridor, but more of a tunnel as it suddenly split into two ways, one leading left, the other right. Frey stood there, looking into each tunnel, taking a second to think before shrugging his shoulder and taking the right tunnel, whistling all the while.
Whistling until he heard the telltale sound of rocks pounding against rocks. He stopped whistling as he heard, freezing in his tracks. His ears perked up, listening silently, hand clasping his spear.
The sound came again, this time louder as he wasn’t whistling, coming from somewhere in front, somewhere out in the darkness.
Walking slower, Frey moved towards the sound, keeping a steady grip on his spear. The sound weirdly rhythmic in its, non-rhythm, growing louder and louder as he came closer. Soon, the sound was joined by a voice, another, and grunts.
His mind quickly went to monster sex, but dismissed it just as quickly, as the grunting sounded far too painful to be anything that dirty. Or, well, he wasn’t that kinda dude who enjoyed such kinks; he was totally vanilla.
Frey came upon a bend in the darkened tunnel, rounding it he came upon another long tunnel, but with light at the far end that made the noise become apparent where it came from. Noise that he now, with almost a hundred percent certainty, knew, was the noise of two monsters fucking- fighting.
Shaking his head, he removed the slimy image in his mind and gently placed the torch on the ground beside him. And silently moved towards the noise and light, walking like a ninja in the dark. A ninja that kicked every loose pebble in his way, making a ruckus that was almost louder than the two monsters fuck-fighting!
Slowly peaking his head around the corner, very slowly, a little sweaty, he spotted two bloody and slimy kobolds pounding each other with long and thick, clubs. Breathing out in relief that his poor mind wouldn’t be spoilt with a sour and unfortunate memory.
A glimmer grabbed his attention from the two slimy monsters, and Frey spotted what appeared to be a gold coin, several gold coins actually, glimmering in the sparse torchlight from the torches strapped to each kobolds back. Or rather, torch wasn’t the right word Frey realized, lamps were the right word, as he realized the kobolds had lamps hanging above their head, dangling and swinging with each strike of the club, looking ready to fling away at any moment.
Thunk then a crack, and one of the kobolds were flung back by a powerful strike from the other kobold, falling down hard on the ground with a guttural groan. The striking kobold then, awkwardly, walked forward with a limp, quickly making grounds towards the dazed kobold before viciously lashing down with its club and killing the other. To Frey’s surprise, it then spun around with a greedy look on its face, smiling wide and licking its bloody lips. Following its gaze, Frey spotted the small pile of gold on the ground, then noticed the kobold practically jump towards it, teasing the gold with clawed fingers, smelt the gold, licked the gold. Seeming a little too far into it.
Seeing his opportunity to strike, Frey rounded the corner and sprinted up to it, easily slicing the kobolds body in half, limply splayed out, staring down blankly at the ground with a permanent greedy look on its deceased face. Frey then, awkwardly, pulled open the sharp claws of the kobold to get the gold, the small amount of gold.
Getting them out, he scanned them, spotting an image of what appeared to be a fully grown dragon on one side of the coin, and a crown of embers on the other. Frey looked from the coin down on the dead kobold, then towards the other dead kobold with its head bashed in.
“You guys really fought to death for this? You guys are sick.”
He said, pocketing all but one coin, sniffing it and giving it a lick before also pocketing it. Shaking his head in dismay at the obviously greedy monsters. Smoothly fingering the gold within his pocket.
Going back to fetch his torch, Frey returned to his, out of tune, whistling tune while lightly walking down the darkened tunnels. Hopefully walking the right way, not to bothered if he wasn’t. He could always walk back, the dead kobolds being a good landmark.
Walking while thinking, whistling whilst walking, walking with a rhythm, rhythm being terrible. Swinging his spear in a circle, accidentally carving into the ground, noticing, then carving small dicks to mark his path, totally for no other reasons.
Walking until he rounded a bend, spotting light in the distance, spotting what appeared to be a lantern. Immediately going quiet and gliding back to hide, he walked further away and put away his own torch, then crept back to the bend.
Slowly peaking his head out with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows, Frey scanned the tunnel for any movements, looking especially long at the distant light. Staring for a few seconds before concluding that whatever kobold had put the light there was either dead or sleeping somewhere nearby.
Nodding to himself for the smart conclusion, he slowly rounded the bend and started tip-toeing towards the light, walking with such expert stealth that even a ninja would be impressed. Though, the echo from his boots might have said otherwise, if they had a voice.
Coming closer and closer to the light, more detail was revealed to Frey. One being that the lantern seemed to be attached to a rope, attached to a plank that was itself attached to what appeared to be a sort of backpack, albeit kinda small. The other being that this backpack was alone, or rather, nothing else surrounded it. It looked as if it had been left there, or placed there.
Before Frey could finish that thought, something crashed into his right arm with a spike of pain and the crack of bone, pushing it inward towards his body, pushing him harshly.
Thrown towards the left wall, he shouted out in painful surprise as he crashed into it, barely seeing as he turned to his right, a spike of adrenaline keeping his eyes clear. Seeing his right arm wrecked, his spear dropped to the ground and a kobold standing over it, staring with bright yellow eyes at Frey, a wicked smile on its face.
Frey moved to face the kobold, clenching his teeth hard to thwart the pulsating pain. Raising his left arm in an boxers pose, right hanging worthlessly, Frey readied himself for the kobold’s next attack. Spotting it, not moving. Instead, the kobold seemed too, enjoy the pain shown on Frey’s face. It mimicked Frey’s movement when he tried to shuffle away from the wall.
Pinned, trapped and wounded, Frey breathed heavily, feeling his heart hammer a million times a second as he stared down at the kobold. The kobold staring back easily, its club resting confidently on its side, ready to strike.
It took a step forward, and Frey immediately bolted forward, taking the kobold by surprise. Not surprised enough as it swung quickly, hitting Frey’s already broken arm, albeit not as hard as it had done before, yet yielding the same result of blinding pain and more cracking bones.
Falling down on the ground with a clatter of body and coins, Frey scanned the ground teary-eyed, spotting his spear a little closer than before, but not close enough. Quickly turning his head around, he saw the kobold and unsuccessfully tried pushing himself up on his feet.
“Shit!”
He screamed out, body tensed and ready to be hit.
But he wasn’t.
Looking up, confused, he saw the kobold staring down, looking at the ground with wide eyes before shaking its head and searching, stopping as it saw him.
Frey hadn’t been idle during the kobolds inaction, instead with haste and speed, had awkwardly crawled towards his spear, and swung it backhanded. Swinging through the kobolds legs, eliciting a shout of surprise and a boatload of blood spurting out, coating Frey in green blood.
Next, Frey swung down and cut a bit into the kobolds’ prone body, including its arm, guts spilling out in response as the kobold coughed out a gurgle of a scream. It stared up, then to the side, staring at Frey with its bloodshot yellow eyes, canine teeth bloodied as it tried to scream, futile.
Frey turned away from the sight, using his good left arm to try- try, and push himself up. Finding it impossible as the adrenaline slowly drained from his body, drained with his energy and drained with his strength. Instead, he slowly, meticulously, wriggled out of his bag, slowly as not to hurt his already destroyed right arm. All the while, a gurgling kobold wriggled on the ground beside him, slowly bleeding out.
Resting the bag over his tummy, feeling a slight déjà vu, he rummaged through the bag and fished out his water bottle, then his health potion. Unplugging it and downing its content. Coldness spreading around his body, feeling coldest around his arm only to quickly replace and soothe his pain, fill him with strength and give him energy.
Using both of his arms, Frey unbottled the water bottle and poured the water over himself, cleaning himself the best he could. Then turned to look down on the still gurgling kobold, swishing his water bottle over it and saying.
“Want some?”
Waiting a second, then after only getting wide eyes in response, Frey shrugged his shoulder and said. “Suit yourself” Before drinking a little, letting out a delightfull burp upon finishing, then leaning back on his arm, arms, head falling back to look up at the dark ceiling. Sounds of dying followed by Frey’s easy breathing. Sitting there, breathing in, scratching of claws against stone ground, breathing out.
“Nice try.”
Frey somberly let out, then nodded big, giving the dying kobold a big smile, followed by standing up, using the spear as a cane to help him up.
His eyes saw glimmer, déjà vu, and turned towards it. Spotting gold on the ground, gold coins, slightly scattered. He blinked at the sight, then reached his hand down into his pocket, feeling it empty. He then looked towards the kobold, seeing it lying awfully close to the gold, reaching its clawed, bloody hands towards it.
Frey bent down and grabbed them, to the dismay of the dying kobold, and brought them close to his chest. Gingerly, Frey pulled the coins close, hugging them as if holding a baby, smiling warmly as he whispered.
“My little babies, I’m so proud of you. I will never, ever let you go, never. Never ever. You have my word.”