Spire's Spite

The lizard watched Fritz with glowing red eyes and he returned its slited glare. A burst of boiling air blistered through the tunnel behind, streaming past the alcove. Both monster and man ignored it, standing as still as stones and waiting for the other to strike.

Fritz applied all his focus to predicting the monster's attack, hoping to somehow dodge it with his Danger Sense's warning. Even if its claws seemed impossible to avoid in these tight quarters. Yet the attack never came.

Frowning, Fritz reassessed his current situation and came to the quick realisation that the beast hadn't noticed he was there. The half-lidded gaze he had mistaken for a glare was merely the dull expression of a half-asleep lazy lizard. Obviously, those red-hot coals they had for eyes had startled him into not thinking clearly. That and his previous experiences had always ended up with him fighting some life-or-death battle while scouting.

He wondered how he had snuck up on the monster without meaning to. The answer was soon apparent, it was dark, pitch black save the flashes of flame from the very end of the cave. That light didn't do enough to banish the black that Fritz could hide within. There was more to it than that though, his magic boots and Grace had rendered his footfalls as light as a cat's, and these creatures were alerted by tremors and touch.

Fritz let out a slow and steady breath, the one he had been inadvertently holding, and contemplated his next steps.

Could he slay the monster outright and without help or should he return?

Fritz grasped the hilt of Quicksilver, knowing that in these small confines more people would just get in the way. As he began to gently draw his blade he could hear the slight ring of metal sliding against metal. He stopped suddenly, but found the beast didn't react to him, their hearing must've been worse than he thought.

I'm going about this the wrong way, he chided himself.

Dusksong shifted in his grasp as he spun it into the form of Lethargy. The intangible touch of the curse alighted on the creature's scaly hide and mind. Its eyelids drooped further, then further still until they were nought but slight lines of red. The lizard swayed on its stubby legs then lowered itself so its belly rested on the ground. After another minute it began to snore, the sound like crunching gravel.

He could safely leave now, but if he brought his team up through the tunnel they would still likely wake the lizard with their too heavy treads. He decided to defeat the beast now, while it was blissfully unaware of its danger.

Fritz drew the rest of his blade fully and searched the scaly hide for a weak spot. There, behind one of its front legs was a patch of scarred, dull-orange flesh instead of black scale. He softly stabbed the stone beside himself, sounding a light clink. It continued to sleep, its snores stopping for only a moment. If the creature was still awake he wouldn't have dared test its senses in such a manner, however, Lethargy had at least another three minutes of duration and the beast didn't move further.

He got into position, one that would give him the best angle to aim for the heart. His footsteps pattered as light as a calm drizzle and he readied his stance, gripping the elegant hilt with both hands. He thrust forward with Quicksilver. Its razor tip met thick hide but with Fritz's entire weight and new Strength behind it, it wasn't denied long. The blade plunged deep, but it was like stabbing a sack of bones and gristle. He had to fight for every inch and Quicksilver was only halfway in when the beast bucked and spun, blindly sweeping an obsidian talon at Fritz's leg.

He winced at the phantom pain of having his flesh split and leapt over the scrabbling arc. Unwilling to lose his blade to the creature he used his leap to tear his sword free. Hot, sticking and steaming blood poured from the hole his attack left. The lizard stumbled, either from Lethargy taking its toll or the wound in its side. It turned its snout this way and that, licking the air with a tongue that dripped with acrid, yellowy spit.

It seemed it could still not see him, but apparently, it didn't need to. A to-be burning engulfed Fritz's senses. There was no way to escape the oncoming breath of flame so he lunged forward stabbing Quicksilver between the fanged jaws. The blade scored a nasty gash in the roof of its mouth but couldn't quite penetrate the thick skull. Deep in the lizard's throat there was a click like two pieces of flint being struck together. A spark flashed, then the creature's viscous spittle ignited.

Knowing his ring was useless against fire, he gritted his teeth and bore the heat and searing pain covering his hand. The moment of agony was brief, the bright fire swirled and was pulled into Quicksilver before the blade bucked and shuddered, rejecting the flame and spitting it back down the lizard's throat. The beast heaved itself backwards, tearing more of its maw apart on Quicksilver's vicious edge.

It bellowed, then choked as the lacerations in its throat and mouth ignited, spreading fire down its gullet. The hole behind the beast's front leg smoked and the oozing stream of blood was set alight, burning slowly as if made of liquid coal. The beast shuddered and growled, one leg failed and the rest followed in moments. It struggled to stand and it fought to keep its eyes open. Eventually, it succumbed, its last breath a guttural whine. Smoke from burning blood began to fill the alcove.

Fritz seized his water flask and poured its cool contents over the monster and the fire. Steam billowed, but the smoke ceased spewing. He switched to splashing his singed hand with the clean, clear water. He hissed even as it soothed his scorched skin. He didn't want to look at it just yet, as it was all too reminiscent of his burns from eldritch flame.

Instead, Fritz searched his things and found his tin of healing grease and some strips of linen that could serve as bandages. Unable to put off assessing the severity of his burn, he glared down at his hand. His heart lifted, the skin was nowhere near as red and raw as he had expected it to be. He'd be surprised if it even blistered. There was still no use in risking that, so he still applied a small smear of the minty-bitter salve over the back of his hand.

Deciding he didn't need to wrap his injury, he used one of the strips of linen to clean Quicksilver of all the ashy remains of boiled-away blood. It was while he was getting the worst of the sticky gunk off that he eyed the still pristine hilt. Realising that its moonsilver guard must have protected him from the worst of the flames, Fritz said a silent thank you to the smith that had forged it and his wondrous work.

When he had done what he could for his blade, he re-sheathed it, trusting the scabbard's lining to take care of the rest.

The grease had finally taken effect, his burn numbed and barely prickled. He squeezed his fist tightly. He was ready to keep moving forward. He briefly considered salvaging what he could from the monster's corpse but felt that was better done once Lauren had scanned the creature for anything actually valuable.

Fritz resumed his rushing pace forward and thankfully encountered no other lizards waiting in ambush. At the end of the tunnel, he finally discovered the vent from which the fire originated.

It was a crevice or merely a small crack, barely half as tall as Fritz, that glowed from within with an orange-red light. It was set into the wall between two passages that led left and right.

The rumble came again and he had to duck behind another wall. The stone was scalding hot to the touch, and his armour shrieked when he put his back to it. He quickly stepped forward to save his swamp-buck leather. The glowing crack lit up like a lamp and a wave of intense, boiling wind blasted past him. Fritz's head spun and his vision wobbled. Falling to a knee, sweat poured off him as he struggled with the overwhelming heat.

The blaring light receded and a warm breeze blew through the tunnel. It was comparatively cool compared to the blaze that was cooking him mere moments before and followed in the gust's wake, letting Fritz breathe again without the risk of searing his lungs.

He got to his feet and quickly ran to the left where the, relatively, cooler air was wafting from. He took a minute to rest and think, drinking a mouthful from his re-filling flask. When he had time to gather his thoughts he pulsed his Awareness, being mindful not to push it too far in this draining heat. He was rewarded with a direction, although not the one he hoped. His Sense told him that he'd have to take the right-hand side passage rather than the cooler one he still stood in.

Cursing his luck and the Spires, Fritz began to observe and plan. As any good Scout should.

Though luck was not on his side it seemed that all was not lost. While he stood where he did, out of the vent's path, he was not affected by the waves of scalding wind. He watched and timed the intermittent rumbling and light and while he did he wondered if he could somehow subvert the vent's direction.

Fritz had the tools to do so, or rather the Ability to do so, but was worried about how it would affect the whole tunnel system if he did. The crack seemed to release its terrible blasts around every three minutes and he estimated that it would take his team at least nine to get to this same passage he now took refuge in. Many things could go wrong, not enough room to hide from the blasts, a missed timing or even just succumbing to the oppressive heat.

Eventually, Fritz realised that the tunnel was too long and too risky to endure. The second plan would have to work then, somehow redirecting or blocking off the vent. He had no confidence in blocking it, any stone or other object, such as a lizard corpse, would simply become a projectile to be thrown down the tunnel at deadly speed. It would have to be redirection then.

With a grim determination, he crossed to the right passage and envisioned the shape of the Stone Pit he would need to form. He was no engineer or scholar but he made his best guesses. He forced his vision of the Ability into the general shape of a tube and cast it at the black stone. It fought him hard, but still shifted instantly. His legs trembled from the sudden Stamina drain. He wasn't done though, he cast another two times, downing one of the stamina potions between the Activations.

He sat and waited for the next blast, admiring his handiwork as he did so. The vent now had two openings, its rough original one and the slightly-larger, smooth hole of Fritz's creation.

Who knew that this ability would continue to be so useful? He mused.

The gust came and it worked even better than he expected, most of the vented air gusting down the left passage and a breeze started blowing from behind him. It might not have been quite as cool or fresh as the other passage, but it meant that there had to be other outlets for outside wind to get in and they wouldn't be suffocated by bad air.

Now with somewhere for the gusts to go, Fritz squeezed a few fist-sized stones into the crack and waited to see if they'd hold against the pressure. They did, and he wiped his brow of sweat and began his trek back to his team. When the rumbling gust came down it was like the breath of a hound, not terribly pleasant, but ultimately harmless.

He staggered out into the light to find his team watching the cave entrance worriedly. Bert was pacing, and George was absent-mindedly running a whetstone across his blade. Lauren was fanning herself with a foldable fan depicting all kinds of flowers, with vibrant red roses most prevalent among them. The siblings were stewing, sweating and whispering blame to each other.

Happy to break the good news Fritz uncloaked himself and stepped forward.

"Fear not," he croaked.

His team stopped and stared.

"What?" Rosie asked turning her ear to him.

Fritz frowned and coughed, clearing his throat.

"Fear not," he began again, this time far less roughly. "The tunnel is now safe."

"How?" Lauren asked.

"I am a man of many talents, what are waves of warm wind to my great gallantry," Fritz stated.

"Really?" She replied with little faith.

"Yes." Bert agreed. "He's a true master of blowing hot air."

Fritz frowned then painted his face with a smile and motioned to the cave's mouth. "See for yourself. The path of the wind has been irrevocably altered by my mighty magics."

To his chagrin, she did check. She stood before the opening and her hair whipped in the weakened, but still powerful breeze.

"Let's get moving then," Rosie declared. "I hate it here. Too hot."

"How will we see?" Carter asked.

"Bring out the lantern," Fritz said.

Bert brought out the still-glowing lantern from his pack and held it forth.

"Who wants to hold it? I'll be in the back and it won't be much use there."

There were no takers so Fritz was about to assign it to Carter when Lauren sighed and said, "I'll take it."

Bert handed it off with a grin and once they had gotten back into formation Fritz led them forward.

The tunnel echoed with the sounds of their passing, the scratching, thudding and slapping of boots and bare feet on stone. Bert hopped from one foot to the other when they reached the hottest part of the cave, right in front of the vent. He complained, but Fritz ignored him.

"Why don't you just wear boots then?" Carter said, replying to a comment about burnt soles.

"The Arte requires it," Bert said.

"Does it?" Rosie asked eagerly.

"Does it?" Fritz asked sceptically. "I don't remember reading that."

"You have to read it more carefully," Bert said shaking his head as if Fritz was a lost cause. "Bare thy fists and fight. Endure! And great feets follow freely," He quoted.

Fritz grimaced as his friend grinned at him.

"Oh," Rosie said, she kneeled and began unlacing her boots.

"No, Rosie," Lauren said exasperated. "He's obviously misreading the Technique."

"Oh," Rosie said. She retied her laces and stood, looking askance at Bert.

"Am not," Bert protested as he swung his pack in front of him and started ruffling through it. "I'll show you, it's written right here in red ink."

"Later, Bert," Fritz said as they reached the alcove with the dead lizard.

"Fine," Bert agreed reluctantly.

"Lauren, can you use your lens on the lizard?" Fritz asked.

"What lizard?" She asked.

Fritz pointed into the alcove and Lauren turned, the lantern light following until it illuminated the black-scaled corpse.

The team flinched, but in a great show of courage they didn't leap back as he might've suspected.

"Fear not," Fritz said belatedly. "For I have already slain the beast. In single combat no less."

"Slit its throat when it wasn't looking," Bert stated.

"It was a deadly duel," Fritz reiterated.

Bert scoffed.

"Looks like it was stabbed from behind and also in the mouth," George observed.

"Appearances can be deceiving," Fritz proclaimed. "Lauren the lens, if you would."

She scanned the beast as George looked it over and tapped on its scales with a small hammer, testing them for some quality that Fritz didn't know to look for.

"The horn has some mana in it," She provided. "The rest is mundane."

"The scales are stone, not suitable to be made into armour. Too heavy and brittle. But the talons seem to be some sort of black iron and could be reforged," George said.

"Good!" Fritz said. "Get to harvesting."

It took them a few minutes to find the right method to remove the horns and talons. They ended up using George's sturdy steel crowbar to pry them off. That and Bert's incredible Strength.

When the materials were secured in sacks and shouldered they turned to Fritz, who had been watching the scavenging without much interest.

"How are we holding up in the heat?" Fritz asked. "George, can you endure?"

George had taken off his helmet and had it under one arm. He was dripping as if he were caught in a sudden summer storm. He wheezed out a 'fine' and gave the team a thumbs up as he put his crowbar away.

Fritz threw him his magic flask and George gulped down the water gratefully then went to hand it back.

"You hold onto it for now," Fritz ordered.

The armoured man nodded his thanks and Fritz motioned his team and led them down the rest of the tunnel then down the right-hand passage. They trudged behind him for another nine minutes before he signalled a halt having seen a crevice from which two red eyes stared.

"Lizard up ahead," Fritz whispered. "I'll scout it out and see if I can deal with it myself. Like the last one."

It only took him a minute to determine that the lizard was protected from an ambush by the walls of stone it had wedged itself within. It looked like they'd have to fight it the hard way.

He returned to his team and began laying out a general strategy that relied on Bert distracting the creature while Fritz flanked and the rest of the team provided support with their spears and swords respectively. Though the tunnel had widened and they could easily stand four abreast the battlefield would still be cramped, especially due to the lizard's long body and the fact there were five other people in his team.

He missed Sid, and not in the usual way. In this moment he missed her skill and battle prowess. With her here this fight would have been won already with the lizard having its skull spiked or split by an arrow or stone.

Fritz sighed and tried to ignore a subtle constricting ache in his chest.

Must be the heat.

"Carter, can we swap," Lauren asked. "You take the lantern and I take your spear."

"Sure," Carter said with both relief and confusion. "But why?"

"I need to slay some of these lizards myself, so I'm offered the Powers I desire," She explained as they traded what they were holding.

"Is that how it works?' Rosie asked.

"Yes," Lauren said. "If you slay a monster you're more likely to be offered one of the Abilities it possessed."

"Huh, then why don't I have claw strike?" Rosie asked. "I must've killed at least one of them lobsters."

"You did, idiot," Carter said. "What do you think Puncture or Flurry are?"

"Oh," Rosie intoned, thinking it over. "Thought it was just because of how I fought them."

"It's both," Lauren said quickly. "Though that doesn't matter right now. Let's slay this lizard."

They nodded and Fritz slunk off into place past the crevice, ready to attack from behind.

Carter shined the beam of lantern light on the lizard and it burst out from its crack at frightening speed. Its talons scratched and sparked off the stone as it rushed.

Bert met its charge and the monster opened its jaws to spit its flame at him. He reacted instantly with a sudden sidestep and a bone-rattling punch that sent its snout sideways, spraying its fire at the cave wall harmlessly. Bert shook his hand out and the lizard snapped its head back with a brutal bite followed by a slashing claw. He was able to dodge the first of the attacks but not the second. The creature's talon shrieked across his bracer and cut a terrible gash in his bicep.

Bert stepped back and George stepped in. His sword's edge gleamed with a white lustre and he swung it at the lizard's extended neck. The blade cut deep into the black scales, causing shards of them to fall to the floor, clinking like coins. However, the strike left only a shallow furrow in the beast's hide beneath.

Seeing his moment Fritz acted, harrying the monster from the back while avoiding the swift sweeps of its tail. He stabbed Quicksilver into a bare spot on its flank, forcing it to spin and hiss in pain.

Bert stepped forward again, kicking the lizard in one of its knee joints just as George leveraged his sword in another hewing slash. The leg bent, its bone broke and the sword split more scales from its side.

Lauren who had been watching on in fear, finally forced herself to charge, plunging her borrowed spear into the rent George had made. The tip got stuck only two inches into the beast's flesh and she cried out in frustration as she pushed with all her weight and strength, which amounted to little. Rosie joined her with her own spear emanating a dark red glow over its sharp steel head. Her strike landed true, piercing far deeper and just below Lauren's spear.

Sticky blood poured down Rosie's spear shaft and she drove it deeper as it lit up with red light again. Though the wound looked bad, Fritz knew it to be merely superficial as the abundance of blood was likely the work of Rosie's Puncture. Setting his feet and steadying his grip on Quicksilver, he slashed down. His blade whistled through the air and caught a spot he had already struck free of scales, hacking half the tail clean off. Much to Fritz's surprise.

He wondered if it was his new Strength or Quicksilver's viciously sharp edge that had caused his strike to be so deadly. He supposed it was both, though now wasn't the time to get caught up in speculation.

The lizard hissed again and tried to turn on him, but Lauren, George, Rosie and Bert kept raining blows upon the beast. They whittled down its defences, spearing and cutting where they could chipping and scatting the stone scales. The lizard struggled and slashed, but Bert stopped its raking claws in their tracks with his own brutal strikes wreathed in waves of force.

Eventually, the beast fell to George's sword as it sliced cleanly through its unprotected neck. Blood sprayed out like water out of a blocked gutter, covering all those who stood too close.

Luckily, Fritz and Cater were far enough away from the front to remain unsullied by the viscous foul substance, but Lauren, George and Rosie were not so lucky. Bert deftly dodged away, and grinned smugly as the rest were splattered.

They spit and spluttered, groaned and grumbled, before wiping their faces with some wet rags Fritz handed them.

"That was a true strike if ever I've seen one. Mighty blow George," Fritz said with a smile.

"Thanks," he muttered, his face red from either the praise or the lingering embarrassment of being covered with blood.

"Is this always going to happen?" Rosie whined as Carter took her rag from her and cleaned her face properly, getting all the smudges she had missed.

"Of course not," Fritz proclaimed. "Look at Bert and I, barely a drop on us."

"Is it an Ability?" Lauren asked, spitting in quite the undignified manner. Fritz decided to not point out the impropriety, glad as he was that she was starting to loosen up. Who knew that all he had to do was let her get drenched with lizard blood?

"No, just experience," Bert explained. "We got covered in sooo much blood when we were just beginning. Remember the beetles? And the Goblins? Horrible."

Fritz shuddered, vividly recollecting the terrible stench of the goblins.

"Oh Gods! My hair is ruined," Lauren bemoaned.

"Nothing a little soap won't fix," Bert said reassuringly.

Fritz doubted the statement, though now that he thought about it, the soap they had was likely magic, being entirely scentless and all. Even his keen nose still couldn't pick up anything from those hollowed-out bars. Maybe it would work.

Lauren seemed to be of the opinion that he was lying from the grimace she wore. Or maybe she was still tasting the blood, it was hard to say.

"Well, it's not like we can bathe right now, so we should keep going," Fritz said.

The team stripped the lizard of its horn and talons as they did the last, then followed Fritz as he led them onwards.

They came across two more solitary lizards and then a third, defeating each but struggling in the process, being worn down gradually. Using the same tactics they had employed against the first and refining them each fight made Fritz wish he had put forth the effort to teach them some of the very basics of 'The Observations'. It would have saved time to have them learn how to make the most out of the openings your allies provided instead of them having to muddy through like they were, with only the guidance Fritz could provide.

He cursed his former self for not even explaining how the formations and flanking manoeuvres were meant to work. It seemed Fritz had taken that small journal for granted. He was now suspecting that a large amount of his previous Climb's success was due to its deep insights crammed in the cramped lettering.

After the fourth lizard fell they were all nearly dead on their feet, except Bert whose boundless vigour annoyed even Fritz. This last battle had really taken its toll. Those other than their defender had taken cuts and burns, and they all complained of aches, pains and dry throats. The worst affected was George, he was dragging his battered iron -clad feet like he was wading through a swamp.

"We're getting close," Fritz reminded the team. Though they had heard him say it twice already.

He wasn't lying, no, they were close, so close he could almost taste it. Just a few more minutes of walking and the Stairway appear before him.

He wiped his brow with his sleeve and continued, the lantern's beam wobbled in Carter's hands and the sight almost made the already nauseated Fritz throw up on the spot. He didn't, instead, he tried to spit but found his mouth too dry for such a task.

Finally, a light at the end of the tunnel that wasn't from the lantern. Fritz motioned a stop and a rest. The team didn't speak or acknowledge him they just sat heavily and drank what was left of their water.

Fritz crept up to the opening at the end of the passage and his heart leapt. The stairway was there, in a great crater below the dark grey sky. A tall, standing fang of glossy black with an archway of familiar scaled brick cut into it. The basin-like crater was strewn with scattered black stones both large and small, making it most resemble a bar after a brawl.

To his dread and dismay, he saw one of the large stones move and realised it was no stone at all but a lizard. Then he spotted another and another all lying in wait, tasting the air and for some reason not fighting each other.

He looked back to his exhausted team. And wondered what the best course of action was. Was it possible, in their condition, to sneak around these monsters or would they be more likely to survive if they made a mad dash?

Bert and I could make it across with no problem, he observed with the overly pragmatic portion of his brain. There might not even be a great loss of the wealth we've gathered if we offer to carry the valuables. And we only need one of them to survive to ward off the Spire's spite.

Fritz felt a heavy weight on his body and it wasn't just his bones. It was like his centre dimmed slightly and his vision went grey for a moment. He turned to see Bert was watching his back.

His friend frowned, seemingly reading his plan from his expression. Bert glanced over the team then back to Fritz and shook his head, rejecting the scheme outright.

He could see understanding but also recrimination in his blood brother's glinting amber eyes.

It would be far too callous and cruel, he conceded after meeting that gaze. He shook his head free of treacherous thoughts. I brought them here and I'll do my best by them. Like I promised.

The heaviness fell from his shoulders and the world came back into colour. With new determination, he nodded, then smiled at Bert who grinned back.

One way or another, they were going across. Surviving, together.