Chapter 11
Mentally I read through the information, questions pouring into my mind as I took it in. My name was there, as was a job, listed as Climber. Then there was a level, which I didn’t quite understand, that had a 1 next to it. Similarly, there were other words and numbers, none of which made any sense to me. I’d been granted the divine revelation on how to access this power, but no guidance on what any of it meant.
“Go to the next room Climber,” the Tower Speaker said beside me, without even looking my way. “There you will receive the answers you seek.” He lifted a robed arm and pointed a long, thin, white finger towards a door on the side of the room.
I nodded respectfully towards him as I stood.
“May the Tower light your way.” The Speaker said as I turned to leave.
“May the Tower light your way,” I responded reverently. Only a lifetime of discipline ensured I give that response, as my mind was currently preoccupied with questions, and excitement. Just what was the Tower’s Blessing?
I pushed the door open, and a rush of warm air met me. While the first room had been filled with beds and the single alter, this new room was filled with tables, and roaring, magical fires. Many of my fellow recruits, well now official climbers, were sitting around the tables, chatting with each other, and eating what appeared to be a feast. My eyes immediately began searching for Nyle.
“This way climber.” a figure clad in dark robes said. I jumped at the sudden voice, having not noticed the man, standing silent as a shadow, just to the side of the door. Again, he was faceless, his features hidden in the dark robe. He motioned towards an area of the room that was sectioned off. Rows of curtained little rooms. Most had the black curtains, emblazoned with the silver tower, closed, hiding who was within. The one he motioned to had the curtain drawn back, to reveal two chairs within a small, empty space. “I’ll guide you through your blessing.”
Dismay filled me as I realized I wouldn’t get to speak with Nyle yet. However, having looked over my peers, and with the rush of warmth offered by the fire, one important fact stood out. I was still completely naked, whereas all those around the table were not.
Without another word I followed the man. He motioned for me to take a seat, and once I had, he closed the curtain. He uttered a few words, and the curtain glowed. Suddenly, all the sounds from the rest of the room cut off. He’d used a privacy spell.
“Present your hand, young Climber,” the man said softly. His voice sounded like a whispering wind. It reminded me of the breeze from the first floor. Faint, yet warm. I held out my right hand, and he took it in both of his. His fingers were a stark contrast to his voice, cold, painfully so. I had to fight the urge to flinch away.
Then I felt the tingling of magic, and the mark on his left hand, a radiant visage of the tower denoting his job as an acolyte, sprang to life. Only climbers had marks on their right hand. It was an easy way to identify our roles. Everyone else, when they received their ordained roles from the tower on their tenth birthday, received their mark on their left hand.
His glowing symbol burned brighter and brighter, and then I watched, transfixed, as my own mark flashed with light. The power grew, and I watched, confused yet transfixed, as the script I’d seen in my mind began to appear once more. This time though, it wasn’t within, yet without. The golden, scrawling letters appeared between the two of us, hanging magically in the air, for both me, and the Acolyte, to see.
“I see your climb wasn’t fruitless.” The man said as he eyed the strange information. “Even with the death penalty, you have enough Essence to grow twice over.” He made a nodding motion as he clicked his tongue. “A promising start.”
“Excuse me?” I asked. I had no idea what he was muttering on about.
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He laughed, a sound that immediately put me at ease, and pointed towards one of the floating words in the air. “Tower Essence,” he stated, “is the power of the tower granted to climbers when they slay monsters. That Essence has the power to increase your own strength, giving you new power, and aiding you on future climbs.”
His finger pointed to the number next to the word. “You currently have three Essence. When a climber dies within the tower, they lose half of their unused Essence as a penalty for dying. If they leave the tower without dying, they keep all of the essence they’d gained.” I felt his gaze on me, though I couldn’t see his eyes. “Considering you have three, that means you took down at least 6 monsters before you died.”
I thought back to my climb. I’d slain two goblins on the first floor, and then… I guess my fireballs had taken out four of those slimes? I hadn’t really paid much attention to them, considering I’d been running for my life.
“Each monster awards Essence?” I asked, trying to comprehend what he was saying.
“Yes, and no.” He moved a finger, to the word Level. Beside it was the number 1. “Monsters, like Climbers, have levels. These levels determine how much essence you gain. The Tower rewards Climbers for taking risks but punishes them for cowardice. Therefore, monsters more than five levels below yours will not grant you essence. Those greater than five levels above your own, will give you two essence per kill. And those within a range of five levels of yours, will grant you a single essence, per kill.”
I opened my mouth, and closed it, trying to take it all in.
“It will get easier over time to understand.” The man said, seeming to read my reaction. “For now, just know it is in your best interest to continue to challenge yourself each time you step foot within the Tower. Ultimately, the more you grow, the stronger you become, the more you’ll understand about your own powers, and the Tower itself.” His voice grew distant, reverent. “To ascend the Tower, is to draw closer to its truths.”
“How do I use this Essence?” I asked, trying my best to organize my thoughts. “What does all of this mean?”
“You’ve learned to use magic as a recruit,” he began, “it is similar. Focus your will on your information and direct your purpose to level. There, you will be able to level yourself up, consuming the Tower’s Essence in the process. Once consumed, this Essence, these levels and power, cannot be taken from you. Your decisions are permanent. And a warning, before you use the Essence now,” his voice went low. “Every level costs more Essence. You must decide, as you grow, when to level, and when to save your Essence. But always remember, any Essence you haven’t consumed, is at risk, if you die within the Tower.”
Again, these things passed over my head. I was trying hard, really, to comprehend everything. I learned best through action though. And his manner of speaking wasn’t the clearest either.
“Before I level up,” I added, looking over everything. “What do these all mean?” I motioned towards everything, the words HP, MP, and the five other words underneath those.
“HP is how much health you have. Technically, you will not die within the Tower unless your HP hits 0. Though, that does not mean you will be perfectly healthy if your HP drops down to 1.” He chuckled. “If you break an arm, and it doesn’t kill you. That arm will still be broken, and unusable during the climb, unless you heal it through spell or potion. If a slime dissolves your arm completely off,” he shrugged, “you can heal back to full health, but the arm won’t grow back until your climb is completed either.” He leaned towards me, so close I could feel his hot breath. “Do not use these numbers as a gauge of how well you can fight. There is only so much the Tower’s blessing can do for a Climber. The rest, comes down to experience, skill, and a fair bit of luck.”
He leaned back and nodded, motioning towards the next. “MP is your magic. As you know, spells take magic. Fireball and Heal both take a climber 20MP to use. Which is why all recruits are taught their hard limit of 5. Now that you’ve unlocked your mark’s blessing, you can replenish your MP through the use of various potions and elixirs, as well as certain magical items you may acquire during your climbs, or even the occasional rest area within the Tower itself.” He let that bit hang mysteriously in the air for a moment, before he continued. “Otherwise, your MP is a finite resource, and once used it will not replenish till the next Dawn.”
“The rest of these,” he quickly waved at the others, “Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Arcane, and Holy, are self-explanatory. Strength is how strong you are, Dexterity is your agility, Constitution, your toughness. Arcane effects your Arcane spells, and Holy,” he paused, waiting expectantly.
“My Holy spells.” I finished.
“Good climber.” He pointed back to my level. “Every time you gain a new level, you are allowed to increase a single stat among those five, by one point. When you absorb your current Essence, you will hit level 3, meaning you will have two stat points to assign, across those five.”
“Any guidance on how I should assign them?” I asked tentatively. This was about as clear as the mud I’d seen on the second floor.
“That all depends on you,” he said, his words coy. “What type of Climber do you wish to be?”