I release my grip around the dogman’s throat, and let it fall to the ground.

“Hey, Reynard?”

“What is it?”

“How long would it take me to make a medium like a wand, staff, or something of the like.”

“A couple of days.” Came the reply, “It’s not something you can do out here in the wild.”

I click my tongue and pick up one of the dropped scimitars. I suppose I’ll have to rely on my strength. I know I didn’t have the time; in a couple of hours I know at the very least Monica would come in looking for me, and I couldn’t risk her coming across this, “apostle.” I had to finish this door before midnight came. I couldn’t take those days.

I pull the scimitar sheathe off of the belt of the dogman and hook it onto my belt. I also pick up the captain’s shield. I’ll need it if this is going to turn into a slugfest. Ah, this was going to be a hell of a hike back up the mountain, wasn’t it? I go back to the place where the captain and I fell. I can only hope it made it through the fall.

My backpack was torn open, and the things that were in it were scattered across the ground. My blankets hung high in the trees above me, and my backpack was nowhere to be seen. Makes sense. So that it didn’t snag against the branches as I fell I had undone it before making contact with the emerald tops of the trees. Perhaps it was still up there; flung open by the wind.

I dig around in the dust where clusters of the denser items in my bag were gathered; the hatchet that I had brought along for fire, the rings that I had torn off the tails of the ratmen in the previous dungeons the night before, and some of the books I had brought along in my bag. After a while of digging through the dust all around the crash site, I find it and breathe out a sigh of relief. The old wooden twig wand that I first started out with. I always made sure to carry it with me just in case I need it.

“I allow the blood of the salamanders to flow through me,” I utter to test the strength of the wand, I flick the wand in front of me.

As opposed to the flood of ash I’ve come to expect, there’s a small trickle; like the amount of burning ash that one could fit in an old soup can. Were the results of the different mediums causing this much of a difference? Sure, the flow of mana was vastly different than what I had felt when carrying the staff, or when I was carrying the cane. It feels more sluggish than before. I suppose I should order a staff or something. That’s probably the best medium for me, but this will work for now. I shove the wand in my pocket and strap the shield over my arm.

The next question is the obvious one: how the hell am I going to get back up there? My eyes trail to the side of the cliff. Small cracks climb their way up. Were they large enough for me to grip? Was there anything larger? A stone jutting out enough for me to grip? No, there weren’t, however, there’s always a way.

I could climb straight up, using a series of spells. Hundreds of feet lay between me and the path that I was on. The other way I can think of is following the ridge until it naturally descended into the woods by the cabin. There’s no doubt that I would run into the platoon I had run into earlier. Perhaps that was for the best, however. Killing that, “apostle,” would ruin whatever plans they had laid, but so would destroying the outpost which acted as an anchor for this area, and I could probably go around the apostle by climbing straight up here. I doubt he expects me to have lived through the fall, so I could probably get up here, and while he’s distracted with whatever he was already in the process of doing, I could destroy the outpost and get out.

After mulling it over for a moment, I turn back to the sheer stone wall in front of me, pull out my wand and point it at the wall.

“An awl, O’ thou servants of Gob the Highest, to strike my enemies.”

A spike about the length and thickness of my arm juts out a little above me. I grab hold of its center and give it a test pull. It holds. I take a deep breath and cast the spell a couple of more times; creating a type of platform out of the stone spikes; with a couple pointed inward to act as supports. I pull myself up on it. If I just did this over and over again, I would get up, but it would probably be too slow, so I change my method a little; forming small spikes that barely jut out of the wall in wide enough intervals so that they could act like the rungs of a ladder.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I stretch up and grab the highest one I can, and use it to pull my legs up as high as they could go until I could set them apart on the little holds I made with my magic. I repeat this process until I reach the top of where I had made it. I thought at first of removing the shield, but once it was off my arm for a brief second, I felt a tiny bit weaker and a bit more winded than before. Was it enchanted? Neat. I wonder if I could sell it for money after this. For now, it more than made up for the extra weight on my arms.

The first climb was only like twenty feet up off of the ledge I had made down below. Glancing down makes my head swim, and I nearly lose grip on the stone in front of me. Luckily, it has the same kind of grip that the stone in the aqueducts, so the tips of my fingers were enough to hold me to the wall. I could probably live from a fall this high. I lived from one much higher.

I cast a series of Earthen Spikes once more, covering another twenty feet up the wall. I finish this section, and I make another ledge right by where I was standing much like the one that I made lower. My arms felt as if they were pumping, and my hands felt as if I had dunked them into a chest full of ice and kept them there for several minutes. Ah, I wish I had something to dip them in. Something warm. Twenty minutes I spend on the ledge, healing myself to soothe the little pains, and then another ten so I can recover from the headaches, and then I continue on up.

There were some tricky parts in the climb; such as a part where I had to go around a jutting portion of the wall. There I spotted the bodies of a few of the dog and rat-men I had knocked off earlier. I pulled the rings off the ratmen and slid them into my pocket while I rested on this portion of the bulging stone.

By the time I make it up to the path that wrapped around the spiraling peak, I had gained the ability to Quick Cast Earthen Spike. Good. That’s going to be a great help. A great many footprints cover the ground going down the path. Good. They weren’t coming back up yet, or if they were, I was ahead of them. I still have time. I run up the path as quickly as possible. Thirty minutes I run up the winding path; passing over muddy streams of trickling water. Ah...water. If it were a little bit more clean I would dip my head into it and take a deep drink.

“Oh thou Undines; daughters of the sea. Pull together and form a ball in front of me.” I utter once the thirst felt as if it would kill.

A bead of water forms in the air in front of me, and I immediately clamp my mouth around it, and let the singular bead flow down my throat. That little trickle of water; though it tastes like the dust that clings in the air, is the sweetest thing I’ve had in my life. It isn’t long before I’ve leveled Coalesce to 15 just from taking quick drinks like this. Magic sure is convenient.

The muted sapphire sky that bled through the ever-present fog in the skies, were now a muted gray before the trees began to appear again. This time they were different. They jut out of the earth in odd angles and in long curls that look unnatural for a tree to do. Were these the trees that grew in the villa that I had entered the night before? They must be. There are strange red berries. I pick one of these and pop it in my mouth. If it was poisonous, I have Cure Poison. Convenience, again.

As soon as I swallow the bitter-tasting berry, the hollow empty pit in my stomach is filled. I wonder if this is what all of the armies of Roki are currently eating. If one berry was enough to quell my hunger, surely it was enough to quell the hunger of anything out there. The trees grew thicker and thicker; though not as thick as the forest on the ground below, but a singular thought went through my mind when I saw this increase in flora — where there was life, there had to be water.

The hike gets easier as well. The slope was less steep, and more even, though it still climbed a little. It was nothing like the path earlier. The path was wider as well, and no longer hugged along a wall. After a few minutes of walking along this, I come to notice a smell. It’s not strong, but it is there at least; the smell of cooking meat. If I hadn’t raised my Perceptiveness, I don’t think I would have noticed something that subtle. I was probably getting close to the outpost. I would have to move more stealthy from here on; in fear of patrols, and lookouts.

“Companion of mine, I require thy form.”

I tap my forehead with the wand. The shifting is slower this time; instead of the thirty or so seconds it took with the cane, it now takes a good minute. I slip off the side of the path and climb up into the trees of this little wooded area. In Shadow’s form, I can smell it all the stronger; cooking meat, and the musky smell of ratmen and dogmen together somewhere up there. With my increased field of vision, I can see the spiraling strands of smoke rising out of countless braziers and campfires. I hop from branch to branch forward, through the woods as silently as possible. I have to hit them quick and hard and get the hell out, before that, 'Apostle,' returns.