Fritz’s now-dry boots stomped up the cold rock of the stairs, he listened for any danger as he climbed and heard nothing save the shrill whispering of the breeze as it wove between trees and his own quiet footsteps. His head and body breached the top of the Staircase and he strode up into a small, quiet clearing. Around him, he saw tall, thin trees with patchy white bark and deep-green needle-like leaves waving in bright rays of sunlight.
Patches of vibrant blue pieced the dark green blanket of the canopy, it must have been the sky but it was cloudless and clear, not a drop of rain to be seen. The air felt cool and fresh to his long-tortured sense of smell. He smiled and inhaled the unusual but pleasant clean scent the narrow leaves exuded and exhaled a contented sigh.
This floor is already looking better than the last, no sweat, no salt, just trees and breeze. Oh, I should write that one down, he mused to himself.
His musing didn't last long as he walked up onto the hard dirt and sparse grass, then heard a heavy breathing from behind. It sounded like some large beast waiting in ambush somewhere out of sight so Fritz pretended not to notice. Don’t give the game away, lull whatever it is into a false sense of security then turn its ambush around. Easy stuff, he lied, attempting to calm his restless legs and jumpy nerves.
I thought, I’d be used to this by now, but it's always the same isn’t it? Always something new and horrible hunting or haunting me, he bemoaned inwardly, cursing his own lack of courage.
Fritz signalled to the now-surfacing Bert that there was a monster nearby and he nodded, glancing around ‘subtly.’ The beast seemed to catch on to his poor acting, or perhaps this new target was too tempting to pass up and it pounced at the soft unarmoured back of Bert.
They both spun to meet the creature and what they saw almost stayed their strikes as the huge cat pounced. Fritz liked, or even loved cats, and this particular specimen was of a wonderful colour, pure white save darker almost silver grey socks and spots. Had they been outside the Spire Fritz suspected he could have sold it to a noble or wealthy merchant for a good price. Well, that was if it wasn’t as long as he was tall, and didn’t reach up to their waists in height.
Unfortunately, though it wasn’t merely a pretty cat, as it proved when its large claws came down in a blur onto Bert’s intercepting arm and guarded chest. His skin split easily as the razor sharp claws glided over him. Bert’s blood splattered the creature's snowy fur as he was bowled over onto his back. He landed hard and the cat made to bite down on his exposed neck with ivory fangs the length of an outstretched hand.
Bert still had his senses and was lucky, or skilled, enough to get his forearm in the way in time to catch the deadly bite, the snowy cat tensed its jaws and bit down. A savage crack could be heard from the breaking of Bert’s bones; a noise they were getting far too used to Fritz thought.
Fritz leapt into action, activating his newest Ability, Gloom Strike. Shadowy energies raced up his arm from his centre and wrapped his fish blade in roiling, whispering darkness. He ran to Bert’s side and swung his blackened sword down on the creature's neck. The cat barely gave his long blade a glance until its edge was within inches of its hide, it stared up with great emerald eyes in what could have been shock as his strike hit, cutting through its hide easily and grinding against the bone of its flexible spine.
He pulled on his fish blade sawing deeper into the springy cord past the bone and watched as the creature's legs failed it and it fell to the ground with a gurgling hiss. Fritz looked away. He couldn’t bear the sight of it as it lay dying. He put his palm over his eyes, running his hand over his face and sighed bitterly as Sid made her appearance, stalking up from the stairway.
Bert rolled the cat’s dead weight off of himself and stood gingerly as his cuts scabbed over and his bones snapped back into place with jarring pops.
Sid glanced at Bert and the now dead beast and quickly assessing the situation. Seemingly coming to the conclusion that the danger had passed and that Bert would be fine, she turned to look at Fritz. Sid searched his pained face for a time then asked, “You okay? Were you hurt?”
“Only in my heart,” Fritz mumbled melodramatically, though he really did feel terrible for slaying the beast, even if it was trying to kill them.
“What?” Sid said as she turned an ear to him.
“Don’t mind Fritz. He likes cats,” Bert explained. “Even if they're trying to murder him.”
“It was probably just hungry,” Fritz said making excuses for the cat.
“Yeah. Hungry for human,” Bert said.
Sid looked at Fritz with a strange expression he couldn’t read, then she shrugged, looked away and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck to guard against the chill breeze.
“We okay with cat meat?” Sid asked seriously, pragmatism lining her tone. “I’m not a huge fan but it’s better than starving.”
“Yep. I can eat anything that eats me. That’s my motto,” Bert espoused cheerily with a wink.
“Good motto,” Sid smirked.
Fritz smiled sadly at the comment but looked away as Sid began to string the kill up, to be dressed and carved. He wondered where she’d learnt all her butchery and hunting knowledge but stilled his tongue guessing it was probably through observation or books. He offered her his bone dagger when her own iron dagger found difficulty piercing the snow cat's hide and the fin sword proved too unwieldy for the task. She took his blade gratefully.
He turned away and said, “I’ll gather some wood and maybe find somewhere to cook it.”
“Don’t get caught again,” Bert called out as Fritz lay down his pack and snuck into the trees moving away from the gruesome scene.
While travelling, weaving through the thin trees and dense brush he saw what he thought was a small rabbit dart into a burrow. He sighed. More fluffy-cuddlies to eat I guess, where’s a monster fish, or a Geraldo for that matter, when you need to hunt something, Fritz complained inwardly accidentally slipping in the phrase ‘fluffy-cuddlies’ that was one of his sister's fondest sayings.
A black mood threatened to take him at the thought of his little sister but he was able to push it away as he searched for a tree that looked strong enough to take his weight. Even after scouting for such a tree for ten minutes, he found none, the forest seemed to be comprised of only that particular kind of thin patchy-barked tree. Instead, upon discovering an incline he followed it up, hoping it led to the top of a hill that commanded a good view of the forest.
Fritz skulked upwards, carefully avoiding and stepping around any dry twigs or fallen branches that could give away his presence to whatever else was lurking out there in the wild. During his search, he came across a natural cave beside a trickling stream and decided he’d explore it when he came back down the hill. No matter how alluring the adventure or the prospect of waiting treasures that might be within; getting their bearings was the more pressing matter after all.
While he walked past the cave and up the gently sloping hill he let his Awareness and various Senses extend, feeling those vague impressions and subtle tingling warnings they often sounded in his mind. There was no sense of where the door was, perhaps it was too far away or hidden somehow? Maybe in a couple of Ability Evolutions I’ll be able to pinpoint a Door as soon as I enter a floor. Fritz sighed, a man can dream I guess.
He daydreamed about his eventual Ability Evolutions, but he knew that he’d have to fill all his empty Activated and Passive Ability Channels first to start customising and refining his magics. He thirsted for the new Power already, like a man long lost in a desert. It was a strange feeling, a week ago he would have settled for being a leveller and having only one magical Ability. Now he was a Pather, far more powerful than anyone he knew personally in his old life, save his parents and tutors, and now he craved Power more than ever. When the thought of his father popped up he absently wondered what level he was and was surprised when a memory from his childhood came rushing back as clear as day.
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“Father, what level are you?” Fritz had asked as he lay on his stomach reading a collection of Faerie tales on cool, wooden floorboards of the still intact and pristine, blue-and-white pavilion in his mother's garden.
His father had turned with a slight scowl etched on his handsome features and he traced his fingers over his dark moustache in an achingly familiar gesture. His hair was slicked back and perfect, with not even a hair out of place, as it ever was. His father had possessed an astonishing eye for detail and was a perfectionist when it came to appearances, or perhaps that was just a side effect of his high Perception. The little things always seemed to bother him more than it would others, even his fastidious, noble mother seemed almost slovenly in comparison to his exacting standards of self styling.
“Francis, you know the Spires I’ve climbed, and how tall they were. Why not work it out?” He had answered in a deep, refined tone. His father’s accent wasn’t quite the same as his mother's but that was to be expected as Fritz knew his father wasn’t from Rain City and was originally from Portus Hai; a city to the south where the Wave Spire stood in the rolling tides past its sandy shores.
Fritz had smiled at the small challenge, even at the age of six he was always willing to show off how diligent of a student he was, ready to make his father proud with all his Spire knowledge.
“Wave, Rain, Mer and Shore,” Fritz recounted counting the Spires he knew for certain his father had climbed.
“Minor Spires floor’s reach to up to ten,
Lesser’s are taller have thirty and then,
Major’s have sixty you climb to get to the top,
Greater’s with ninety but that’s not where they stop,
A hundred and twenty are tallest and Grand,
Save the Last Spire which forever will stand.”
Fritz had recited excitedly, proud of the eloquence with which he had recited the children’s rhyme, without stuttering even once.
Fritz’s father had smiled warmly then and had gestured for him to continue thinking through the puzzle.
“Wave and Rain are Lesser Spire’s and Mer and Shore are Minor?” Fritz had supposed, to which his father had nodded reassuringly.
“Thirty plus thirty is sixty, sixty plus ten is… seventy? Seventy plus ten is eighty? Father, you’re level eighty? That’s so high! You could be a King!” A young Fritz had proclaimed in awe of his father. As most children would; be their father a great lord or a common baker.
His father had chuckled sensibly at the comment and replied, “Not quite, my boy, I don’t know how high level the King is but you can assume he’s at least twice my level. As I’m considered but a Journeyman Climber and he an Expert. I even heard he climbed the Greater Spire of Water before he came here and took the throne.”
The young Fritz eye’s had widened in shock. He remembered not comprehending the vastness of the world and how he was rocked to his core by the tiniest glimpse of the scale of Powers hinted at by his father’s words.
The forest blurred around the edges and Fritz realised his eyes were watering, both from a new freezing wind blowing in from his left and the pain the refined recollection had brought with it.
Damn, the Memory Attribute sure is a double-edged sword. Especially for me, Fritz lamented.
Wiping away his tears and re-focusing on the forest around him, he kept walking on. During his trek, he spotted another couple of rabbits dart away and another be picked off by another great cat, which ignored him as it stalked away with its small brown prize. Fritz let it go, not willing to get into another fight and also not really wanting to harm another cat, no matter how large, vicious and hungry.
Shivering slightly he eventually reached the top of the hill and was greeted with a decent, but not a great, view of the surrounding lands. He saw nothing that could reasonably be considered a stairway, not a slab of green marble to be seen. Not much of anything to be seen save the deep green of the canopy that was like a quiet, rustling sea, shifting in the steadily growing breeze.
Fritz turned to his left, what he thought may have been north, depending on if the sun here was similar to their own. The wind was picking up from that direction and it was colder than the light chill of before. Searching the sky he could see dark clouds approaching, slowly covering the pale blue in a blanket of ominous grey.
A storm, and coming within the next couple of hours, if I can judge the weather of a Spire floor, he assessed rapidly. Anxiety coiled in his chest and he immediately started to stride back to his crew. After a few minutes he felt a strange sense of urgency and, trusting the instinct, broke into a run, leaning into his Trap Sense, Perception, Awareness and Agility to guide him through the forest without tripping on a stray branch or stone and losing his footing.
He was rushing by a tree when Fritz heard a growling then a ferocious yowl as another cat pounced at him from a bush. He ducked under its claws and not looking back sped away in a sprint, abandoning any attempt at stealth or caution. Belatedly he remembered his barrier ring and activated it, just in time too as the cat pouched at his back and bounced off the skin-tight field, breaking it, producing a low hum as the protective magic dispersed.
Fritz was pushed forward by the force, he staggered and almost fell on the hard dirt but he kept his feet and kept running, trees blurring as he passed them. Knowing a cat was unlikely to be unbalanced by a sudden Stone Pit but might be spooked by a different magic. Fritz pulled on his shadowy energies and cast his Illusory Shadow behind him, pulling it into the shape of a wide disk between him and his feline pursuer.
The great cat hissed but didn’t follow through the dark wall between them, Fritz thanked his luck and fled. He was lost for a couple of moments, but was able to spot the cave entrance he had seen before and knew he was on the right path. He rushed past the dark opening and towards his companions. He didn’t hear the cat padding after him so he slowed down somewhat, trying to catch his breath. For minutes he ran and no more attacks came, he supposed he had lost or scared the creature when he used his Ability. He sped up, sprinting again when he spotted the clearing they had entered the floor on.
Fritz burst through the trees startling Bert and Sid, they drew their weapons and raised their fists rapidly, ready to react to any threat. Spotting Fritz they looked around and behind him for whatever monster he had brought them this time. He would have scowled and chided them for their lack of faith in his scouting but he was bent over and panting too heavily to talk.
After he had enough time to slow his breathing and speak, he told them through heaving breaths, “Storm’s coming...Maybe an hour or two… maybe less.”
Their faces paled and their fists clenched as they processed the warning, “We need shelter. Now,” Sid said seriously, searching the clearing worriedly for anything that might provide any respite from a storm.
“Saw... a... cave,” Fritz breathed out, straightening his back and glancing around.
Saying nothing Sid cut down the still strung-up cat, not bothering to recover the rope cords she used and bundled up the skinless, organ-free carcass in her sheet of oilcoth.
“Bert, carry the cat,” She demanded. He complied without complaint lifting the creature's bulk into his arms but failing under both it and the weight of his heavy, gold-laden pack and falling into a kneel with a grunt. Sid frowned in frustration and added, “I’ll carry it then.”
Bert let the cat's body fall and moved out of the way for Sid to pick it up. He also appeared angry, not at Sid but at his own lack of strength Fritz suspected. Which was absurd, he had the highest Strength of them all and if he weren’t carrying the heart it would have been easy for him. Fritz was about to say as much but was interrupted by Sid as she hefted the wrapped carcass over her shoulders.
“Fritz, get my pack and bow,” She said as she struggled with the balance of her butchered burden.
He moved to do as she asked, he slung his own pack over his back and Sid’s over his front, reaching awkwardly he took the bow from where it had been leaning against a tree. All told all the extra gear was unwieldy but hardly heavy or tough to move, even with his unenhanced Strength. Fritz waddled forward and then started to stride once he had his balance right. He headed out of the clearing, leading his crew towards the cave. The light dimmed as clouds shrouded the sun and swept over the sky.
Bert was on alert, as the only one that could reasonably fight without having to drop their equipment he would have to be the first to act if they were attacked. Fritz felt something like drizzle, a speck of cold struck his face and the first flecks of snow began to cascade out of the darkening clouds. It’s coming too quickly. This is bad.
“Bert be on the lookout for fallen branches. We’ll need to light a fire,” Fritz called out.
Bert nodded and started collecting fallen twigs and sticks when he came across them, quickly amassing an armful of dry wood for kindling. Which he had to drop when another great cat jumped down from a tree. It landed on Fritz’s chest and knocked him over onto his back, driving the wind from his already aching lungs. He groaned as the air left him and he made to swing at the beast with his fish blade. Claws sank into his scale-armoured shoulder and the pack he was wearing in front of his chest, saving him from being disembowelled or worse.
Bert was there in a moment. With a rippling kick, he punted the cat off of Fritz’s chest before its long fangs could plunge into his neck. It flew at least three feet from the force of the blow and growled the whole time as it tumbled into a tree. As it staggered up Bert held out his palm and a jet of clear, viscous liquid sprayed forth covering most of the cat's left side.
It yowled in terrible pain, hissing and spitting as it turned then scrambled away. It leapt up the tree as patches of fur fell from its white coat revealing skin that was red and already blistering from Bert’s acid. If killing the cat with Gloom Strike made Fritz feel bad this was immeasurably worse, he pitied the poor, mewling thing but there was nothing he could do for it if Bert’s Corrosive Spray was as potent as the snail’s on the last floor.
He turned away from its torment and attempted to ignore its cries.
Bert offered him a hand up and he took it, letting himself be pulled up to his feet then bending to pick up Sid’s bow where it had fallen from his grasp.
“Let’s get moving,” Fritz panted, as he checked his shoulder. There were only a couple of small punctures and very little blood. He thanked the Spires that he had kept wearing the scale shirt, even if it had a small tendency to rattle if he moved wrong.
Sid grunted in affirmation and Bert nodded.
Fritz led the way again, this time also keeping his eyes up so as not to miss any more ambushes, more for the cat’s safety than his own. They made good enough time, eventually reaching the cave’s shadowy entrance before the snow began to fall in earnest. They were glad to scurry inside as the wind was picking up, catching their clothes with invisible fingers and causing them to flap rapidly.
They set their burdens down and peered into the deeper darkness further down the stone tunnel.
“Lucky you found this empty cave,” Sid said puffing out a tired breath and taking back her bow from Fritz.
A low but enormous, growl echoed out of the tunnel, shaking both them and the rock. Fritz could feel the rumbling deep in his chest and he gulped.
“I never said it was empty.”