Dread seeped into Fritz’s limbs, his quick, quiet pace slowed to a stealthy trudge. The dark of the dirt tunnel was near absolute but there was a soft orange glow up ahead emanating from a side passage, painting the red-ish dirt a vibrant orange.
The giggle he had heard before had stopped and all he could hear was the crunching of the loose gravel and dirt under his and his allies' shoes. The air moved like syrup, it felt warm, heavy and sticky.
Fritz turned around and whispered, “I'm going to check out the light, need to do it quiet.”
“Take Toby as backup,” Bert whispered back stopping the group’s advance.
Fritz grunted his assent and Toby moved to his back, fin blade out. Fritz led the way softly to the orange glow. The light rippled slowly as if being stirred from deep below creating strange spiralling patterns on the rough dusty walls.
They stepped slowly and carefully, trying to keep as hidden and unheard as possible. Toby was doing a better job of it, as Fritz sometimes still made a crunching or a sifting noise as his boots disturbed the ground. Benefits of Agility, Fritz supposed.
After a minute, they arrived at the side passage’s opening then in a well practised maneuver they flanked either side of the opening. Fritz looked inside, finding a circular dirt room with ramshackle wooden supports and dark roots growing through the ceiling.
In the centre of the chamber, he saw a large dark tree root studded with fist-sized nodules of amber containing the swirling orange light. The large root hung amongst the smaller lighter roots holding onto clumps of dirt from the ten-foot-high roof of the chamber. The walls had broken picks, shovels and rusted-through buckets lying beside them.
Fritz scanned the rest of the room intently, finding nothing amiss be began to sneak towards the root and the source of the light. He approached the root ears straining and eyes locked on the strange almost hypnotic light, when he heard then felt a creak then a crack beneath him.
He lunged backwards as the ground beneath him gave way. A square opening appeared right below him, and he fell freely into it. In his panic his fish blade slipped from his grip and went tumbling into the darkness.
He scabbed helplessly for purchase on the rough dirt but found nothing to seize. Then suddenly his fall was arrested, surprised and suspended he looked back. Toby’s arm had been flung out grabbing under Fritz’s arm holding him just under his shoulder as he was falling. With a lurch, Toby threw himself backwards pulling Fritz up and out of the pit kicking up clouds of dust as they landed heavily on their respective backs.
“My fish blade,” Fritz wheezed and spluttered, spitting the wandering dust out of his mouth.
“You’re welcome,” Toby intoned drily as he breathed heavily and covered his eyes, shielding them from the floating dirt.
“It seems it was a trap,” Fritz espoused sagely, sitting up and getting a better look at the square hole that opened up before him.
“No, really?” Toby replied, standing up and patting himself down, attempting to dust the dirt off his dark, ragged clothes. “How could you tell, was it the shiny lights or the deadly fall?”
“You know, I think those lights bewitched me, I never would have fallen for that normally,” Fritz declared, imitating Toby by also standing up and patting himself down.
“Maybe. Sometimes you just miss things,” Toby shrugged and looked around at the glowing lights “But those lights are strangely inciting,” He added after staring at the orange glow before shaking his head to clear it.
“Probably best not to look at them too hard,” Fritz suggested, “But we will need light down here and there’s some light for the taking.”
Toby gave an uncertain nod, “You gonna jump onto the root then?”
“I thought you might volunteer,” Fritz responded hopefully, which pulled a dark chuckle from Toby. “Well I need something to carve the stones off the root as well.”
Toby handed him one of the pitted iron daggers from the gear packs they were so magnanimously gifted with by the oilcoat thugs. Fritz tucked the sheathed dagger into his belt securing it and his belt tightly.
Fritz sighed, then backed up preparing to get a running jump. He sped forward, jumped with all his strength and flung himself at the hanging root. He hit it with a hard thud that pushed the breath from his lungs but was able to wrap his arms around the dark twisting wood.
The wood, however, was cool and hard, lacking the usual malleability of roots. Fritz rapped on the root with his knuckles finding it to be completely unlike a tree, no hollow knocking like that of a shop’s door but instead the sound of flesh on stone.
Stone-wood? Why? How? Fritz complained as he fetched the dagger from his belt. He put the dagger’s tip to a joint between the stone root and an amber crystal, he began to pry away the glowing crystal but before he could put any real force into it the amber simply slipped out of its socket and fell into the pit below.
It fell for a few moments before it clacked onto a hard surface and skittered around at the bottom of the pit.
“Nice job, oh heroic burglar,” Toby intoned in that sarcastic way he had perfected over the years.
Fritz rolled his eyes then risked a look downwards into the dark square hole. At a small spot at the bottom of the pit he could see the glowing stone lying close to his shimmering fish blade. Now with a bit of light he could also estimate the pits measure and make.
The pit was at least twenty feet deep and at the bottom the floor was set with upthrust spear-like objects. Fritz was now very glad he didn’t fall down there. He then realised he was breaking the rule of never looking down his hands began to sweat a little.
Don’t lose it Fritz just gather up the stones, push yourself off this thing and land on the ledge, simple, Fritz reassured himself. So he did as he planned, sheathing the dagger and just relying on his hands to pluck out the amber stones. It was surprisingly easy all said and done he was able to collect seven of those fist-sized crystals in total, not counting the one in the pit.
With a mighty push he threw himself off the stone to the ledge, he overshot by a few feet and landed hard on his back, but he felt that it was worth it, very much worth it, considering the alternative.
Fritz pushed his hand up and handed the bag containing the amber to Toby, then told him, “Go get the rest of the crew, this room seems safe enough to stay in for now.” Toby nodded, doing as Fritz asked and slinking into the darkness of the tunnel hall, holding one of the glowing amber crystals upraised before him like a torch.
He returned a minute later with the rest of the team, the scraping and crunching of their shoes alerted Fritz to their entry as he lay stone still for a moment.
“We know you’re not dead Fritz stop pretending, you always do this,” Bert said in a bored tones as he sat next to Fritz’s lying form.
“I was merely resting, nay, pining for my only faithful companion, Quicksilver,” Fritz griped easily from his prone position. “She is lost in the pit below and I have no means to- wait hang on I might actually have means to retrieve her!” Fritz exclaimed excitedly sitting up in a flash and causing Bert to flinch a little.
“Shh,” Toby hissed scowling. “There might still be things out there.”
“First a test! Behold the might of Stone Pit!” Fritz whispered-yelled to the crew.
Fritz reached to his Power, he felt at the cool light of the star then Activated his Stone pit ability, aiming at a point within the trap hole. Again he could feel the invisible power seize the dirt of the wall but this time the magic didn’t slip away, instead it pushed at the dirt creating a spherical indent in the side of the pit's wall.
The indent seemed to be around nine inches deep and a foot and a half across at Fritz’s best guess. So it works sideways, good to know. The newly created hole seemed to be half a sphere with a strange smoothness to its surface, it was akin to the stone dome that loomed over the Spire’s underground lake.
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Fritz grinned manically at his first successful use of magic, his first spell. He was overjoyed and the moment was only slightly ruined by Greg asking “Was that it, that small hole? I thought it’d be bigger, bet it's not the first time you’ve heard that hey, Fritz.”
Bloody Greg, Fritz thought then the fatigue hit him, but he pushed on creating another hole around five feet below his first and then again until his legs failed him. Three holes seems to be my limit. Not the first time I’ve heard that, his stamina drained mind supplied deliriously in imitation of Greg’s words. He sat on the ground recovering his energy while the others whispered, and checked out the abandoned mining tools.
While he rested it seemed they found an unbroken pick and a relatively intact bucket with only a small hole near its lip. After they had collected anything of use Toby handed out the amber gems to each of them, Fritz declined to take one of the glowing crystals, he told them he intended to recover his fish blade and would grab the amber he had dropped near it.
After Fritz regained his strength, he walked to the edge of the pit and gently lowered himself over the lip, his foot found the handhold he made and he stepped into testing its integrity. The smooth surface was tightly packed dirt and it held his weight easily.
Slowly he climbed down the edge of the pit, sweating and huffing, then resting with his face pressed against the dirt wall when he felt it was necessary. He avoided the upturned spears, which he could now tell were the broken handles and staves of mining tools whittled to a wicked, jagged point.
Eventually, through much exertion Fritz made it to the hard floor of the hole, his boots were set upon solid stone again. Walking quietly he wove between the crude spikes to the glimmering fish blade and retrieved it. Glad to finally have his trusty weapon back he also picked up the fist-size lump of glowing amber at his feet. He held it aloft, getting a more total view of the spiked pit.
Fritz thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Again weaving through the forest of spears he made his way to the oddity he’d noticed, there was a discrepancy in the dirt wall.
“Fritz what are you doing down there, climb back up and let's move forward,” Bert called down to him, frustration and anxiety ringing out in his voice. He was pacing along the edge of the pit and looking down on Fritz who shushed him bringing his finger to his lips and making some hand signals that meant ‘found something, hidden safe’ in their own made-up sign language.
Bert nodded at him and signalled ‘investigate’ but kept pacing worriedly.
Fritz crept up on the oddity, raising the glowing amber to bathe the area in the orange light. His eyes traced an outline, a thin gap in the dirt wall, the indent reached from the floor to just below his shoulder. A hidden hatch? Fritz used his fish blade's edge to attempt to pry the small dirt-covered door but it seemed to be barred from the other side.
Fritz smiled and readied Stone Pit, he activated it cutting a hemisphere of dirt away from the wall’s side. He reached into his newly made hole and pulled the small door open easily, the bar scraping uselessly against what was left of the section of dirt wall. He peered through the entrance seeing a small tunnel extending into the darkness.
Fritz crouched, holding his fish blade in his right hand and amber light in his left before him then slunk into the small confines of the tunnel. He maintained his slow pace for a minute, hearing nothing, before coming across a fork in the path. Left or right? Right. He traversed the tunnel further when he heard a soft quick breathing coming from behind him.
Fritz spun, bringing his fish blade up to cover his body, just in time, as the fish blade's edge caught the spear thrust aimed at his previously turned back. He knocked the spear's shaft askew, causing the spearhead to skitter off his thigh, leaving a shallow cut.
Stooping in front of Fritz was a nasty little creature. It stood at around three and a half feet tall on two stick-thin legs, was clothed in a ragged loincloth and was holding a short makeshift spear in long-fingered hands. It had large drooping ears and jowls attached to a gaunt wrinkled face with dark-grey, leathery skin. Its eyes were huge obs of black with a speck of blue-green light burning in their depths. It giggled at the sight of his blood and wore a cruel grin showing off a mouth full of uneven, wicked needles.
He lunged at the short creature with his fish blade, and it’s eyes lit with fear. The goblin attempted to twist out of the way but Fritz’s sword struck true, running it through the chest with a sucking gurgle.
The goblin dropped its spear and writhed for a moment trying to seize the blade in its chest and push itself off the deadly sword. It only succeeded in rending its hands to ribbons on the sharp serrated edge. After several moments of desperate struggle the monster went limp, its blood dripping off the fish blade and pooling onto the dirt.
Fritz sighed, letting out a breath he had been holding in subconsciously, then put his boot to the goblin's corpse and pushed it free of his blade, letting it slide into the pool of its stinking dark green blood. Fritz took stock of his condition, checking the cut on his thigh. The cut was shallow and stung a little, but he considered it a small price to pay for not having his back pierced.
Fritz suddenly wrinkled his nose as the terrible smell the goblin was exuding hit him and was determined to get away from its rotten cabbage stench as quickly as possible. He decided to keep following the path he had chosen before he was so rudely attacked. Sneaking through the darkness and periodically checking behind him for more goblins he made his way forward.
He was beginning to sweat in the heat and humidity of the tunnel and the darkness ahead was starting to really reek of goblin stench, but he continued on afraid he’d lose whatever chance at an advantage this stealth mission would bring.
Minutes later of skulking, the tunnel ended in a low-roofed chamber with no windows or other entrances. There were three softly snoring small figures bundled in a nest of countless strips of cloth and rags.
Near to the rancid goblin nest, Fritz could see a bronze banded wooden chest. A Spire Treasure Fritz thought excitedly. Normally he wouldn’t risk trying to fight outnumbered like this, but there was treasure to be had, plus he had the jump on these horrible critters.
He covered his nose as he entered the chamber and crept up on the huddled goblins as the smell threatened to make him gag.
Easy does it. He thought as he lifted his bade over one of the sleeping goblin’s neck, he pressed down in a quick cut and slashed the helpless monster’s throat. That didn’t stop it from thrashing and gurgling though. One of the other goblins awoke instantly, and when it lay fearful eyes upon Fritz it bounded away on all fours like a frog. The other was slower and looked to grab one of the spears strewn across the room.
The fleeing goblin got to its feet at the end of its jump and began to sprint to and through the exit, Fritz only had a moment to react but called on his Stone Pit, aiming it where the goblin was about to step. With a rush of weariness the spell completed, and the goblin tripped when its new footing suddenly disappeared, it tumbled head over heels and slammed lightly on the floor.
Fritz was on the fallen creature within a moment and was plunging his fish blade through its back. The blow neatly severed the goblin's spine and it lay dying, a tide of its stinking blood soaking into the loose dirt.
Fritz heard a shrill cry from behind and dodged forward and to the side, cursing himself for getting too caught up in this goblin's escape and losing sight of the other one. He wasn’t as lucky as last time. The spear entered his upper arm and poked full through his flesh and out the other side. As he hissed through clenched teeth the amber light fell from his hand.
He spun again, feeling the spear be yanked out of the goblin's grip and painfully staying lodged in Fritz’s arm. He faced his diminutive opponent, fury rushing up his limbs, he lunged again, slashing with a wild swing instead of the controlled thrusts he had been performing before.
The goblin leapt back avoiding the swing with an unnatural agility then rolled under Fritz's next slash, picking up a new spear in the process.
The goblin fended him back with primitive but effective thrusts of the spear, this goblin was bulkier than the other three he had slain and was wearing leather scraps sewn with rags as a sort of hodgepodge armour. A warrior or fighter goblin?
Fritz cursed, a stand-up fight with a goblin and he was slowly losing. He’d never hear the end of it. The creature dodged out of his wild strikes with ease and punctured him lightly in return, two more times he swung, two more times he was thwarted and two more cuts adorned his body.
It kept giggling, whenever it thought to was about to inflict pain on Fritz, or when it frustrated him by dodging his attacks. He thought the foul mirthful gurgling would soon break him as his rage and fear built.
The creature watched him with a malicious glee burning in its dark eyes and a vicious grin spreading across its ugly face. He could see the goblin was biding its time, waiting until Fritz was worn out or made a glaring mistake before it struck a deathblow.
So Fritz seeing no other way out of his slow death by a thousand stabs decided to gamble. He swung a chopping blow forcing the goblin to dodge to the right and into his activation of Stone Pit.
It worked. Barely. The creature strafed to the right and its small goblin feet met no surface to land on but instead of falling on it’s face or side it tumbled into a semi-controlled roll. It was rising out of its roll when Fritz’s fish blade chopped into its collarbone, catching hard. Fritz pulled back viciously on the blade and could feel it tear through the goblin’s flesh effortlessly and saw through its bones with a dull grating.
The goblin screamed in its high-pitched voice, fell to its knobbly knees and dropped its spear. It looked up at Fritz in terror and started babbling in its incomprehensible tongue. Fritz chopped again, this time with all the rage that had been building during the fight. The creature made to dodge but it was too injured to move quickly enough, the blade met its chest and carved it open.
Stinking blood sprayed onto Fritz's face and shirt causing him to spit, cough and curse. Exhausted from the gruelling, intense fight, Fritz sunk to the floor putting his back to the wall. He kicked the goblin corpse away from his seated position and tried to rest and regain his stamina.
The smell was unbearable and the heat and exertion had him sweating heavily. His mind was sluggish, mired in fatigue, so he just sat there for some time.
This is terrible.