Chapter 16 – Floor 1: Part 8
Name: Mathew Larson
Discipline: Charlatan (Level 5) -> Max Level
Level: 5
Aether: 3212
Attributes
Body: 1.7
Mind: 2.5
Spirit: 0.3
Blessing
Create and Control Flames III (Max Tier)
He had done it. It had taken him over two months of struggling and killing creatures that were already dead, but he had done it.
Mathew looked at the screen in satisfaction. He had finally accomplished what he needed to leave this floor. He wouldn’t have to stare at the faces of his deceased friends every night, watch their expressions of hatred burn away along with their flesh.
He could finally go to August City and put an end to this. But would it truly ever end? What he had experienced here would stick with him forever, and it was only the first floor. How bad would the next be, or the one after, if this was how the Tower of Avarice began?
Greg informed him that the new arrival, Amanda, thought he was insane. Perhaps he was, but she would understand over time. Let her get a few more nights fighting the undead, maybe watching as those she knew in life joined their ranks in death.
Then, she would understand what was wrong with him. Or perhaps it wasn’t only the stress of being here affecting him.
Mathew had a theory, and his recent observations of the others only further confirmed it. His idea was that as you gained ranks in a Discipline, you began to exhibit traits that adhered to it. He had only to look at his own behaviour to confirm it.
He had never been a person to take the spotlight, to leap in front of a crowd and try to entertain them. But since he reached Level 4, he found he craved the attention. Standing on the side of the wall, snapping his fingers to ignite fires that lit the night and drawing the awareness of the others to him, it was invigorating.
He had thought he was losing his mind, finally driven to madness by the terrible nights and monotonous days, until Greg made a comment that made Mathew take notice. Greg had hated hunting before entering the Tower. He could never bear to kill a housefly, let alone an animal in the wilderness.
But since he took the ‘Poacher’ Discipline, he enjoyed hunting. He would shoot birds and roast them on the fire or fish in a stream outside the walls during the day. Greg couldn’t understand why he suddenly felt like doing it, but Mathew did.
Maria mentioned that she hadn’t been much of a fighter when she was on the outside but on the first Floor? She was a predator, using her spear like it had always been a part of her.
Perhaps their Disciplines shaped their behaviour, and Mathew could only imagine what the higher-level Disciplines would do to them.
Closing the screen, Mathew left the silent Temple behind. Returning to the bright, sunny day, he walked over to where Greg was watching the Firstie, Amanda, practice with her summoned dog. ‘Mavis’ was a medium-sized canine, around forty or fifty pounds, but Amanda assured them it would grow bigger as she levelled up.
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As a Caller, her animal companion was her only means of protection, but Mathew had his doubts about how effective the dog would be against a horde of undead. Maybe she could fight on the wall when she reached level 3 or 4, but for now, Greg had advised her to throw rocks and drop stones on the undead until ‘Mavis’ was ready.
After all, no one was sure what would happen if the dog was injured or killed. Would Amanda be left alone? The dog would appear from motes of light when Amanda summoned it, but there was no way of knowing what would happen, and she didn’t want to test it.
“I’m going to go scout August City.” Mathew said, ignoring the dog and its owner and focusing on his friend. Greg was leaning against the outside of the Temple, nursing a glass of clear liquid that Mathew knew was alcohol nearly as strong as paint thinner, when he reached him.
“Now?” Greg asked, starting forward like he was about to get up before changing his mind. He looked up at the early morning sunlight. They had just finished their time on the wall and would usually take an hour or two to relax and blow off steam before catching some sleep.
“Now’s as good a time as any. It’s a half-hour walk to August City, and we’ll need to make multiple trips to develop a plan of attack.” Mathew reasoned.
“Don’t you want to get some sleep first?” Greg asked.
“I won’t be able to sleep, and besides, I’m feeling refreshed from that level up. You don’t need to come with me. I’ll just observe it from the edges and come back.” Mathew clarified.
“Listen, I don’t have a problem with you going during the day, but you’re out to lunch if you think any kind of plan is going to be enough to clear it. Maria and the others took every level five we had and most of the level fours, and they couldn’t clear it. What hope do we have?” Greg replied.
“Bigger isn’t always better.” Mathew responded, ignoring the laugh from Amanda at the innuendo. He continued.
“We’ve got you and me, plus two other level fives. That should be enough. After a few trips, we'll know if we can do it or not.” Mathew argued.
“And if you wait a few more weeks, we can have another three or four. There’s no rush, Mathew.” Greg countered.
“Tell you what, I’ll flip you for it. Heads we go, tails, we all stay here until we’re old and useless.” Mathew retorted, pulling a coin from his pocket and giving it a flick into the air. Greg sneered at the suggestion.
“Get your cursed coin away from me. I watched you flip it ‘heads’ forty-seven times in a row. I’m not falling for it like some Firstie. Go and scout it if you want, but I’m not going to August City unless you’ve got a rock-solid game plan. And even then, I think we should wait a week.” Greg answered, waving his friend away.
“Fine. I’ll be back by midafternoon. If I don’t make it, just assume I cleared it by myself.” Mathew responded, walking toward the now open gates.
The dirt path led across the grassy plain and to the trees where he had been gathering brush and materials for his fires over the past two months. Beyond it was a small clearing where Mathew had arrived on his first day.
Passing the spot where new people arrived, the path curved slightly until it reached a wide stream where Greg and some of the others would fish or swim if the day was particularly hot. A small wooden bridge arched over it, and a thick layer of dust had gathered on top of it, evidence of how long it had been since anyone had crossed.
Marching past, the dirt path gained large paving stones nearly a mile after the stream. Mathew passed a few houses, and nothing remained of the structures aside from burnt remnants. As they fled the undead, someone had set fire to every building outside of August City.
The day grew warmer, and Mathew could hear birds and cicadas singing in the distance. Even though this world was dead, there was still life to be found.
Cresting a rise, Mathew caught his first sight of August City.
Made of stone and wood, the buildings had clay roofed tiles, and the city lacked a wall surrounding it. It bordered a river on its far side, with piers extending into its water. Mathew could see boats still tied to the wharves.
Someone had started fires here as well. At least half the city was covered in black soot, with gaping holes where buildings used to stand. In the center, a Temple rose higher than all the other structures, save for a large, lavish-looking building that looked like a palace or mansion.
Mathew couldn’t see a single undead anywhere in sight, but they wouldn’t come out during the day. They were most likely lurking in the buildings, taking refuge there until nightfall.
He had no idea how many could be down there, but he was confident about one thing. He wouldn’t find out lurking this far away. He needed to get a better look at the city if he was going to come up with a plan to burn it to the ground.