Soren Hill
The air was muggy and hot. Not quite like a high summer day, as there was a gradient to it that had nothing to do with the sun. Water boiled, steamed, and burst all around them. Hearts of heat that spread their influence outwards with the wind. There were cooler places, but everywhere lingered the scent of rotten eggs. Sulfur. Stinging the nose the moment you entered. It remained in the nose no matter how long you spent in the odor.
It was a hostile environment, deadly but unfailingly beautiful.
Soren looked over the landscape, through a rare breach between trees and the steam. His heart ached at the sight. Despite the sulfuric hot springs, the landscape was unfailingly normal. There was no abnormality in sight. No flair of fantasy world imprinted upon the land. Just hot springs and western terrain. He shared everyone’s alarm at the quiet, but this pristine view made him homesick.
Upon entering the fifth floor, the Sixty had split up. Parties were sent along the rim top while the rest trudged down into the caldera. The general consensus was that it was better to scope out the land than simply race to the other side. Soren approved. There was no telling when the game would change. The difficulty of The Pit was rising and he doubted that finding the way through would continue to be easy.
Good habits now saved the future.
His party had been sent to follow the rim on the left. They had planned to follow the border wall, but that proved impossible. Hot spring streams were extremely common along the edge. Bubbling up from where land met rock into pools or pouring downhill. Many proved wide, which made simply stepping over them a no-go.
Their perfect circle became jagged as the party was forced downhill to find a crossing. Sometimes barely an inconvenience and other times a hike of its own. They had come to a halt three hours in when a great stream divided the land. The issue wasn’t so much the water, it was only uncomfortably wide, as the real issue was the concentration of springs and geysers. A whole line of them bolstered the spring all the way downhill. It would be a long walk down to find a point to cross.
The first sign of the dividing stream was the dying trees. Flanking either side of the water were bone-white trees that had died from overheated roots. Their bark had fallen away, but the temperature that killed them also preserved the wood from quick rot. All dried up and pale. Dead fingers reaching for the sky.
Walking close became perilous as the earth became traps of broiling mud. That slowed them down, each step having to be checked before praying the ground held. The slowed march became somewhat pointless when they hit the stream. An effective barrier. Before heading downstream they decided to take a break.
A little way downhill was a pile of boulders on solid ground. Like goats, they had all clamored up to soak in a rest. The first break that wasn’t a five-minute breather. Soren used the new speaking stone to report their journey to the Coward’s Club. They were once again the rearguard, but also acting as the recorders and information center. Talking to the other parties was possible, though unnecessary for a simple report. His party hadn’t found anything of note yet. Just more hot springs and unremarkable wildlife.
According to Rodrick, no one had seen otherwise either.
Boring, I hope it stays boring. I don’t like the chill that goes down my back when all I hear is “all quiet on the western front.”
Soren stayed atop the rocks and surveyed downstream. Studying the emerald lake that was bright and shallow on the edges before descending into a great hole of darkness. Even from this far, the nature of the great hot spring was perceptible. There was something eldritch about the scene. He could see ancient humans tossing tributes with the hope to appease the spirits below. Preserve another generation from the shaking earth and the deep fire.
While he pondered the image, his party began to spread out to stretch their legs before the hike restarted. Some wandered down to the stream bed. Soren understood. Deadly as the water was, the scene painted on the bottom by the minerals was breathtaking. No section was the same though each used the same colors to paint. Worth taking in even with danger lurking somewhere.
A scream, and then the sound of bursting ice.
His trench fluttered as he turned on a dime and leaped towards the stream. His Form enhanced his eyes to pick out the safe passage. In an instant, Soren was dashing toward his people. The rest of the party trailed behind. One of their own had been hurt, there was no hesitation from any of them.
Leon’s voice cried with uncustom panic. The sounds of water surging and strange howling filled the air.
The trees parted enough for him to catch sight of the commotion. Leon and Carlos were battling a giant red crab that was trying to pull Dorothy Roth into the water. The newly minted pugilist had gone berserk, her scalded fists slamming uselessly against the claw manacled around her ankle. The barrier mage was desperately trying to cover the woman while blocking the bursts of boiling water that the monster was firing rapidly at all of them. If the ice mage hadn’t blocked its retreat, the fight would have been tragically over before any help could arrive.
The gunman snarled as his blood began to boil.
His pride twinged.
Guns out.
Without slowing, Soren fired from both guns. Bolts of red streaked as his revolver clapped the air. His first spray of shots was testing as it was a desperate attempt to free his teammate. Impacts plinked against the claw and the body. His laser was ineffective, only kinetic force having any reaction. The monster shrugged off the heat completely. The bullets did prove themselves a little better by creating bigger chinks in the armor, but the crab didn’t flinch at them either.
His second wave was better. Less from the hip, narrowed, and smarter. Soren aimed the revolver at the narrow slit of the mouth and eyes. It had been blocked from his sight, but the angle was good now. The laser gun began to charge. Filtering out the usual heat for pure force.
Six shots slammed into the crab’s alien face and it shrieked. A high pitch trill that sent a pulse of nausea through the gunman. He tasted bile, but kept moving. Dorothy Roth screamed as the claw first pinched down to the snap of bone and then lifted free as the monster began to flail in an attempt to retreat. To all of their horror, the pain-insane fighter tried to leap after for revenge. The monstrous crab proved the depth was much deeper than thought. The absolutely clear water was treacherous.
Leon snatched her in a bubble and whisked the snarling woman away.
There was a look of retribution in the eyes of Carlos and Leon, no doubt mirrored in Soren’s eyes. He felt the same indignant impulse. Mad that their teammate was almost killed. Furious that a monster would dare to harm their own. Certain that it wouldn’t escape.
Carlos struck first, his chant cold. Ice rose over the legs of the crab to immobilize it. The monster’s cry grew more panicked. Translucent barriers appeared behind the creature and began to shove it ashore. The revolver barked, putting another six rounds of lead into the face. Soren’s laser gun was almost ready, he was shaping the charged force for penetration.
Francisco and their tank Charlotte Scott arrived. As the crab breached the shore, the two of them rushed to meet it. Charlotte’s spear skewered into the joints as her shield bashed a claw away. The scout blipped from sight, a shadow that appeared before the oozing face of the monster. One dagger slashed free an eye and the other gouged at ragged flesh. Green blood, sizzling hot splattered on the ground. The dagger wielder had already disappeared. Their tank dug in. Power swirled around as she prepared to stand firm.
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Water erupted from the stream.
For a moment, Soren thought the springs and geysers had gone critical. The shore was drenched in overflow and the very surface of the stream was chaos. A dozen crabs broke into the air. The monsters charged to surround their wounded kin. Some struck at the barriers and ice that blocked the ease of retreat and others confronted the party. Spouts of pressurized water forced them to go on the defensive. Two crabs began to transport the hurt one into the water.
“No,” declared Soren.
He leaped up onto a tree for a better angle. Razed the magic gun and fired the prepared force. To the normal eye, it was a beam that shot forth. The truth was that built-up pressure from forming the needle-like projection had skyrocketed the speed upon firing. It left a streaking afterimage as the original crab was impaled, then driven into the ground. Shattered the shell and green splattered on its kin.
A horrible howl rose from the crabs. Mournful and angry. Their energy changed from a defensive posture to murderous. Like a legion preparing to charge, the monster grouped together with an interlocking claw shield wall. The horde aimed for Soren with reckless abandon.
Water shot forth to distract the rest as the monsters moved. In reaction, Soren’s party unleashed a barrage. Charlotte and Francisco attacked the flanks, but found no purchase. The crabs were disturbingly efficient in their organization. They protected each other and gave no opening that another didn’t cover. The casters fared a little better. A whole section of the crabs turned on Carlos in a battle of water manipulation. Boiling liquid against ice, the air became obscured in mist. Leon played defensively. Barriers to slow and attempts to break up the formations. The gunman fired his guns in tandem, a force shot to shift a claw and the revolver to wound. It was dealing damage, but minor and slowly.
The fight was turning into a grind and the crabs would not slow. One inch at a time, they marched towards Soren. A moment of conflict. He didn’t like being pushed from this struggle, but there was the party to think of. They were on the back foot and more importantly, Dorothy Roth was still injured. This was turning into a risky fight.
It didn’t need to happen either.
“We’re pulling back,” called out Soren. “Charlotte, Francisco, get to Dorothy and retreat to the boulders. That's the fallback point. Go! Leon, Carlos, prepare for Great Wall. I’ll dazzle ‘em!”
There was only a small hesitation from Francisco. The man’s bloodlust flashed for a second, but with a jerk, he followed orders like the rest. The casters moved behind him and began to gather their spell. It wasn’t a dual cast, but still, the two had worked out a great combo.
Seeing everyone on the move, Soren began his own part. A deep breath, He surged forward as his Form exploded with power. The clock began ticking as his body ached at the surge. He holstered the crystal gun to pull out a Valerie special. A big barrelled slug thrower modified by the glorious woman herself.
It's gonna be a pleasure to see her work. Once everything is up and running, she’ll be doing amazing things.
A spray of bullets to gather attention, reload and then those one-two shots to hit those vulnerable spots. He got in real close and dared the crabs to come at him. Turning on a dime, Soren darted away to taunt another. The ranks were beginning to pull apart with his jerking around. When a crack in the formation grew right, the marksman lifted the slug thrower. Bracing took both hands, awkward when holding another gun. He made it work.
The projectile bashed past the monsters, chipping armor and knocking them askew. Before it could impact directly, the slug exploded in a burst of Soren’s Mana. The crabs were thrown in disarray as he reloaded and fired several more times. He almost wondered if they could take them, even only battered so far rather than wounded. But, the waters of the stream raged again. More crabs began to rise from the boiling liquid. The unstopping howl dimmed into loathsome chittering
When his teammates called out to him, the marksman retreated.
In his wake, barriers three layers thick coalesced. A second later ice erupted overtop them, sealing the Mana itself into a solid block. This process was only possible because Leon allowed and encouraged the effect to increase the durability. A process of manual merging. There was now an arcing wall dividing the humans from the monsters. The sounds of the raging behind the wall quickened their retreat. There was no telling how long it would stand.
Everyone met safely at the boulders. Leon tended to Dorothy while everyone prepared to defend the area until the healing was done. For a time there was the faintest sound of smashing ice and sharp cries. Then silence. Nothing appeared out of the woods.
Feeling somewhat safe, Soren sent Francisco to scout and pulled out the speaking stone.
“This is Soren, I have a report,”
Rodrick’s tone came through strained. “Go ahead.”
“We’ve had monster contact. Giant crabs, they work in teams. One injury, but recovering after the party retreated.”
“Acknowledged. The orders are to keep pushing around the rim, but do not venture too close to the center. They get bigger. Avoid contact, but if you must, eliminate all targets at once or you're kicking an ant hill.”
“So we’re not the first? Why didn’t we get a warning?”
“I tried, but you didn’t pick up after I sent the signal.”
The speaking stones were wonderful, but the current edition couldn’t be spoken through unless there was active Mana use. Valerie had only barely managed to add a function that saved Mana to make a glow if someone was trying to contact you. Soren grimaced, realizing the battle must have already started when the signal came. No doubt fixable once stalls were unlocked.
Soren sighed. “Alright, forget that. So, Malachi just wants us to keep exploring? On our own?”
“Yeah, your party has been determined for scouting. Others have been switched over for combat, testing the crabs out basically. Obviously, stay safe, but he wants you and Zariah’s to lead your parties to get a lay of the land. Find the exit if you can.”
He felt a little annoyed at being sidelined from the fight, but Soren couldn’t deny that his team was lacking in powerhouses. Plus scouting out the floor was important work.
“We’ll get on that. Any other tips?”
“Looks like this floor is full of caverns too. Don’t trust how deep any water looks.”
“I’d rather not burn and melt, so I was planning on staying out of the water entirely.”
“Fair enough, good luck out there.”
“Thanks. Later and out.”
While waiting for Francisco’s return, the marksman filled in the rest of the part on what was happening with the others. No one looked particularly worried or bothered by their job. Dorothy looked sour, but Soren supposed that had more to do with the crabs and her leg. Reasonable all around. It was, after all, a pretty place to trek through despite all the dangers. They could always run away if the crabs showed themselves again.
Their scout returned, a figure appearing out of the shadows. He walked up to Soren and impassionately handed a cord over. Rust red was mixed in with the stars.
“The crabs had scattered by the time I got to the stream,” reported Francisco. “Based on the tracks, they only followed our retreat to the tree line.”
“That bodes well if we can avoid streams and pools. Or at least limit our time around them. Was the core just laying there?”
“Yes, it appears there was some attempt made to drag the body into the water, but that effort was abandoned halfway. I think the dusting process is most likely the reason.”
“Do you think it scared them off or just made the dragging effort too difficult?”
Francisco gave Soren a look. “Does that matter?”
“Yeah, either behavior would tell us something. Frankly, trying to take their dead is interesting in itself.”
“Likely just wanted to eat the dead.”
The marksman shook his head. “I don’t think so. Those crabs were working together and clearly care about their wounded.”
“What do you think they bury their dead or something? Monsters? That’s a little far-fetched for me.”
“Maybe not bury. Certainly, nothing complicated as a funeral. But, it's not all that beyond primitive thinking to want to put your dead somewhere away from scavengers.”
“Giant intelligent crabs that live in boiling acidic water,” frowned Francisco.
“Not a fan?” Sore grinned.
“Eh, I’m not one to complain about a challenge.”
“Good, our life is full of them now.”
Soon after, Soren led his party downstream. Keeping a healthy distance from the stream bed as they looked for that way across. There was at best two-thirds more to their journey and he had no intention of spending a night on this floor. If it could be helped.
For that reason, the marksman set a quick pace.
The difficulty of the terrain came in waves. At times, the party walked through patches of old-growth trees and at times they were zigzagging through a plain of geysers. Coming across streams was the worst of it. Finding a crossing was a hassle and now they had to be picky too. Soren wanted to avoid picking a fight with the crabs again.
At least until he could see Valerie and the screens about some armor-piercing ammunition.
On breaks, Soren practiced his penetration with pure force on rocks. It made him realize that he had been relying on the heat of the laser too much. That was a limitation and those always needed to be broken. He began to see possibilities.