Spire's Spite

Fritz awoke with a shiver and the sounds of whispers. It was a worrying way to wake. The beginnings of frost were crystallising on his blanket and he could hear a low conversation drifting between Lauren, Rosie and Cal.

"So you think he's still hiding something?" Rosie asked.

"I do," Lauren replied. "How quickly and safely we've been Climbing is abnormal."

"Safely?" Cal said incredulously. "I almost died."

"Yes, but you didn't," she retorted. "All I'm saying is that it's not just Danger Sense. He has a Magic Attribute as well. I think its likely Nightwell, due to those shadowy strikes and his stealth. That, and he never seems to slip up. Physically at least. Maybe it's just his Grace and Awareness, though I suspect he has more Senses than he lets on. Do you see how he sometimes stands still and stares into nothingness? Has that been your experience with Awareness Rosie?"

Rosie shuffled under her blanket, maybe a shiver but more likely discomfort.

"I dunno. I just got it," She replied.

"It wouldn't surprise me if he was hiding more of his Powers," Cal said. "If you knew even half the rumours told about those two down in the districts you would have run screaming from this Climb."

"I live in the districts and I have no idea what you're talking about," George said, startling the others with his sudden speech. Obviously, they had thought him asleep. "He has a reputation?"

"Fritz and Bert took dangerous jobs, mad risks for leveless thieves," Cal supplied reluctantly.

"Thieves!?" Lauren hissed.

"Shhh," Rosie said, poking her head over her blanket to stare at where Fritz lay pretending to sleep.

Letting out a small, dignified snore, he decided to let them speak further and find out what they knew or what they thought they knew of him and his history.

"Sorry," Lauren whispered. "He's a thief? I thought he was nobility, he has that air and accent."

"The story goes that his father was a Guide who went missing," Cal said. "I only half believed it before, but it might explain some of these Senses you're talking about. His da may have taught him something," he added thoughtfully.

"He'd be watched by the Guides Guild if that was the case," Lauren said.

"Not killed?" Rosie said.

"Killed?" Lauren said with some surprise. "No, nothing of the sort. He'd be put in the orphanage they run. And if he 'coincidentally' manifested the Powers they covet he'd be made to join. He wouldn't be the first Guide's child to 'accidentally' learn their closely guarded secrets."

Is that true? Fritz asked himself.

Then why had the Guide Enforcers ransacked his estate and killed his mother while scouring through his father's belongings? Was there more to what happened that day than he had believed? Maybe, but Lauren was being naive in her claims, believing everything the Guides spewed about their lawful conduct and neutrality. What exactly happened if you had the Abilities they held secret and didn't want to join up? Likely a visit from the enforcers, then a quick swim in one of the great gutters with some stone shoes.

After losing himself in the thought, he brought attention back to the whispered talking.

"I dunno why he's been in the gutters all this time if he had someplace better to sleep. But he's been with Bert and his crew for as long as I've heard stories about them," Cal said.

"Thick as thieves," Lauren said, mostly to herself.

"Why don't we just ask him about it?" Rosie asked.

"He said he didn't want prying," George said. "I, for one, trust him."

"That's cause you're keen on him," Rosie said.

"Maybe. He is rather dashing. Don't you agree?" George said.

"I do," Rosie stated.

Even if he felt nothing of the sort for those two, Fritz was flattered and his Dusksong chimed cheerfully.

"I don't. Though, I've never had much of an eye for men," Lauren admitted offhandedly.

"Can we talk about something other than Fritz's dashing looks?" Cal groused.

"Right. Back on topic. What I meant to say was, even if he spins lies and hoards secrets it doesn't hurt us. It may have even helped us, what with that Hidden Door," George continued.

"That was too much of a coincidence," Lauren agreed. "Though I can trust him further, I suppose. Especially if you're right about the Hidden Door. After all, I did benefit from it greatly," she sighed.

"I don't like that he lies. But I don't think he wants to hurt us," Rosie said. "Just a hunch."

"You have hunches as well as scales now do you?" Cal mocked quietly. "Your future husband will have to have strange tastes."

Rosie hissed like an eel, and Fritz found that the best time to pretend to wake. He yawned and stretched. The others lay still, pretending to sleep in a humorous reversal of roles. He looked over them for a heartbeat, then with a smile, he strode to find Bert where he sat by the oasis's waters.

"Alright?" Fritz asked his friend.

"Yep, the crabs move around sometimes but they're happy to eat what's left of their dead kin out there," Bert said.

"Good to know," Fritz said, then lowered his voice to a whisper. "The team is suspicious about my history and my skills. They seem to believe that I may have some kind of Guide Ability, though they don't seem to be too offended about all the secrecy."

"Hmm," Bert hummed thoughtfully, watching the still waters reflecting the starry sky like a mirror.

"What should we do?" Fritz asked.

"Nothing," Bert said after a moment. "I think that in their shoes I'd be fairly suspicious of you too. You are mad after all."

Fritz smiled and Bert responded in kind.

"Bert... how would you know what its like to be in their shoes? You don't wear any," Fritz said.

His friend chuckled.

"They'll be fine. More than fine, I'm sure. Once they get used to their Abilities and remember they have us to thank for them," Bert said smugly.

Internally Fritz agreed, but he still felt a bit of trepidation and a dollop of disappointment at their mistrust. Though it wasn't like he could stop lying just yet, not until the house of cards he had built was well and truly about to fall. With a sigh, he motioned for Bert to go get some sleep while he took up the watch.

Bert nodded gratefully and left him to his thoughts.

Hours passed. Still and quiet, save for the scuttling of domed crabs in the distance and Bert's tossing and turning. Thankfully, the team had, in their pretending, fallen asleep in truth. More hours passed. Fritz pulsed his Awareness as he waited for the sun or his team to rise, whichever came first. The cloud of his Awareness swept out, he was getting better at filtering the overwhelming noise as well as the speed he could project his Attribute. He hadn't aligned more points to Awareness in some time so he suspected that wielding your Advanced Attributes must be something that you could get better at with practice.

A fuzzy impression pointed him over the opposite side of the oasis, he could tell the Door was far away and wondered how other teams ever found Stairways without Door Sense.

Likely those dowsing rods, he reminded himself.

George stirred and sat up, staring around at the night and shivering. The movement woke both Cal and Rosie in moments and they joined in the shivering. The fire had died sometime during the night as it had run out of wood. Fritz had left it to burn out as he didn't want to saw down a tree, disturbing what little peaceful sleep the team could grasp. Their breath misted before them and Rosie reached out, shaking Lauren awake.

She stared around wildly, pulling her blanket to her breast. Seeing Rosie she sighed and frowned. "What? Why are you shaking me?"

"It's freezing, light the fire," Rosie demanded.

"There's nothing to light. Unless you want me to breathe on you," Lauren growled.

"No thanks," Rosie said.

Fritz stood and strode to the team. "Ah, you're all finally awake. George could you cut down another tree so Cal can start on breakfast."

"Sure," George said standing and stretching.

Soon they were sitting around the re-lit campfire while Cal cooked more crab and Fritz took the time to explain his plan of training and fighting their way across the dunes.

"We know these foes well enough now that it shouldn't be too dangerous to engage them when we come across them," Fritz explained.

"What about this training? Is it a Technique?" Lauren asked, receiving a bowl of blueish stew.

"It is. Though you shouldn't worry about accidentally learning it. I'll keep it to the very basics," Fritz reassured.

"What if we do want to learn it?" Rosie asked.

"It might be good for you and Cal, though I'm not sure it's a good fit for George and Lauren. It's more about skirmishing than stand-up fights," Fritz said. "Bleeding things out rather than using overwhelming force."

"Bleeding. Lucky I have Puncture," Rosie declared. "I'll learn this one too."

Fritz nodded. "Has The Arte taken root yet?"

"Not yet, but I'm close. I can feel it," Rosie replied.

"She's close," Bert reaffirmed."I have felt it." He rubbed at the ghost of a bruise on his ribs.

After the team had finished their delightful breakfast and had packed away their camp, they set off in the direction Fritz led them.

"What makes you think the Stairway's over that way?" Lauren asked, trying to be sly.

"Just a feeling. That, and there's more crabs that way," Fritz said.

"Funny, I don't feel anything like that," Rosie said.

"I'm sure it'll come in time or with more Awareness," Fritz lied.

He knew that they didn't quite believe him, but it was the best excuse he was going to give them. Seemingly sensing that, they questioned no more.

They trekked across the white dunes, fighting the crabs when they lay in their path and sharpening their teamwork and tactics each time. Though it was tiring, Fritz found it was well worth the delays and small damages they took. More hours, and another fight or two.

Periodically Fritz pulsed his Awareness, making sure they were still on track to find the Stairway. He gradually guided them to the left, to a veritable jungle surrounding the largest oasis he had noticed. They cut through the vegetation until they reached the quiet shore. Fritz could feel the Stairway close by. With another pulse, he determined the Door's position.

Within the small jungle, there was a large, rough sandstone wrapped in leaved vines, and on its surface the was a Door with scaled stone steps, leading up and away.

"Behold the Stairway and our way out," Fritz said, motioning to the exit.

They let out some sighs and small cheers, celebrating the rapid discovery of the next Well room.

"Only half a day of wandering," Bert said. "What a find! I salute my Scout-Captain!" he added thudding a closed fist on his chest.

Rosie belatedly saluted as well, but it was not joined by the rest as they began to look around for somewhere to camp.

"How long did you want to stay and 'train'," Lauren asked.

"Until we can fight a group of crabs without having to struggle or use as many Abilities as we do," Fritz said. "I want battling a band of beasts to become routine."

"Fair," George said.

"If you insist," Lauren reluctantly agreed.

"I do. It'll make the rest of the Climb even easier," Fritz said.

"Not too easy," Bert said aghast "I want to fight an Aberrant beast!"

"You're unlikely to find one," Lauren said.

"Oh, Why is that?" he asked.

"This Spire is Climbed a lot, and they're rare," Lauren said.

"Would it be that different if it wasn't climbed as much?" Fritz asked.

"Yes, fewer Climbers means fewer chances someone finds an Aberrant before it eventually Spire Breaks," She said wearily. "It's just common sense."

"Where do they come from?" Rosie asked.

"Who knows," Lauren sighed. "They just appear, seemingly at random. Though some say it's the rare, unpredictable process of mana mutating a beast to have something like a false Sanctum or a real intelligence."

"Enough Spire talk, let's set up camp and get some rest. Tomorrow we train," Fritz said as he shuddered. A memory of the Hound's insatiable, intelligent eyes pounding into his mind. He pushed it away and considered instead the exercises he would put the team through. That soon bored him and he stared at the Stairway with some small desire.

Although he wanted to keep going up the Spire, he knew the team couldn't keep up with him and Bert yet. Training them would get them closer to growing into a real Climber team so he resigned himself to taking some time to get them ready for the rest of the Spire.

They had been making great time so far, what was the worst that could happen?

---

Vaa'gur viciously paced before the three Doors in the temple. His heavy boots should have thudded on the wooden boards like he were pounding on a drum, but they made barely a sound as he strode. Even as he seethed he moved with loping lupine grace and stomped near silently.

He grumbled to himself as his weak and lazy hired men sat by the eel statue. They whined ceaselessly about some local troubles. He hadn't expected them to be of any real use, bringing them along as spite shields, but he had to admit they were ever more useless than he could have believed. Even for the weak scumhole that was Rain City, so miserable and worthless it was barely worth being called a kingdom.

"Still, I'm glad to be out of the gutters for a time," the clean-shaven of the pair repeated for what could've been the ninth time. "Nice to be dry once in a while, and we don't have to worry bout the murderer. Ain't that right Hob."

"Aye, Russ," The balding and fat weakling named Hob replied. "Much safer in this Spire for now. Did you hear that Kev got done in?"

"I did. Finally got what was comin' to him," Russ replied.

"That he did. Likely the work of the Scarlet Storm," Hob continued.

"Scarlet Storm!? Haven't heard that particular title before," Russ said.

"It's cause you ain't got your ear to the waves like I do. Gangs is being hunted, 'specially those that like to take a little fun here and there," Hob explained in hushed tones as if speaking on it would call down this 'Scarlet Storm's' wrath.

The thin one gulped. "Really?" He almost squeaked.

"Aye. That's why it be good for us to be lying low, or high, as it were," Hob said chuckling at his own joke.

Vaa'gur glared at the pathetic men, somehow Pathers despite their obvious lack of skill or strength.

On seeing his face they paled and went silent, then Vaa'gur resumed his pacing waiting for any sense of his Marks. They had disappeared. He'd been able to follow them and their scents into the first floor before it locked or changed. They didn't even bother to hide their tracks or their kills. A surprising amount of kills for such weaklings, especially that Fritz. Everything about that smug parasite made Vaa'gur's blood boil.

He didn't know if it was the way he latched on to Albert, a true fighter if he had ever seen one, or his ridiculous, slimy manner of speaking. Speaking to him, Vaa'gur! Who had recently ascended to the heights of the Journeyman rank; who would be praised when he returned to his island home, victorious in his Spire sojourn; who would be able to join the raiders in truth, enacting The Commands on the undeserving and reclaiming the wealth wasted on them. Their food, gold and fresh, fertile flesh to be used by the Krakosi Chosen and the Changed.

He growled at the recollection of Fritz daring to speak to him out of turn. Vaa'gur's Primal Instinct told him all he needed to know about the sluggish, simpering should-be slave. A worm, a maggot, gnawing and eating the power he stole and swindled from his companion. His gut boiled over again as he remembered Therima striking him to defend the snivelling coward who sweated just by meeting his gaze.

His team had said they wanted no part of his hunt, calling it 'a waste of time', deriding him and asking why he even cared to 'crush some bugs just to hear them squelch'. Sertine was a stranger, in the team out of convenience rather than conviction, so Vaa'gur knew why he didn't understand. But Therima should know why, she should be upholding The Commands just as he sought to. It strung that she had told him, no ordered him, to be back in a week so they could 'Climb the Rain Spire and be out of this wretched city as soon as may be'.

It was an insult, he wouldn't need more than a couple of days to track and take his quarry. Or so he had thought before they disappeared.

He bared his teeth as he stood, then he decided to check his Spire Sheet, just to make sure his Path Ability was still Active. Right now he couldn't feel or scent anything from the Doors in front of him, just a dead end.

In the burning city of his Sanctum, he read over the silvery glyphs, ignoring the screams from the smoking buildings around him. He wouldn't let those sweet sounds distract him right now, he had real agony to enjoy once he found his prey.

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Spire Readout

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Name: Vaa'gur of Clan Wrestryke

Level: 66

Path: Venomous Stalker

Strain: Human

Sigil: Serpent Spire, Silver(10). Rat Spire, Gold(10). Mer Spire, Gold(10). Wounding, nil(24). Stalker, nil(12)

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Attributes

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Strength: 24

Agility: 30

Endurance: 36

Perception: 39

Focus: 39

Memory: 24

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Advanced Attributes

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Awareness: 33

Grace: 18

Reflex: 24

Venomwell: 27

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Activated 3/3

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Venomous Strike - Evolution 3/3

Dripping deadly, a subtle threat, cuts induce, a deep regret.

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Skypierce Arrow - Ascended 1 - Evolution 1/3

Loose the arrow, soaring high, deadly bolts, pierce the sky.

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Dash - Evolution 2/3

Get to cover, join the fray, move between, speed away.

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Passive 3/3

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Primal Instinct - Ascended 1 - Evolution 1/3

Beastly hunches, lead the way. Scents and sound, expose your prey.

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Vital Strikes - Evolution 1/3

Hammers find joints, blades find veins, claws find flaws.

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Thickened Blood

Thickly flowing, and slow to bleed. Stiffly scabbing in vital need.

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Trait 3/3

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Stalker's Stride - Evolution 2/3

Treading quiet, no tracks behind, hushed and hidden, your prey is blind.

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Camouflage - Evolution 2/3

Blending colour, shifting shade, standing still, ambushes laid.

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Inscribed Skin: Confusing Haze

Written on skin, show the script! Their vision swirls and mind is ripped.

---

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Path 2/3

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Boundless Mark - Ascended 1 - Evolution 1/3

Mark them, track them, follow fast. Stalk them, hunt them, to the last.

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Insidious Venom - Evolution 1/3

Venoms soaking, beneath the skin, flesh and bone, rot deep within.

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Technique 3/3

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Thron'gur's Relentless Tracking (Apprentice)

Plodding, trudging, don't ever stop. Tracking, stalking, until they drop.

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Serpenal Brewing (Novice)

Mixed malignly, cure or kill, potion or poison, drink your fill.

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The Commands (Novice)

Pillage plunder, sail and seek. Exalt the strong, cull the weak.

---

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Strain 0/3

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---

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Vaa'gur rankled, as he always did, when he read that stupid rhyme that tried to encompass and lessen the profound nature of The Commands laid down by Krakos. The Spire's mocked, but the Krakosi would have the last laugh once one of the Chosen or Changed Climbed the Final Spire and ascended to godhood. Then a new age of blood would dawn, just as it had when Jorved had reached the Precipice. A new age where the weak would know their place and he and his folk could eat, take and do whatever they wanted. Just as he deserved.

Vaa'gur licked his lips and could almost taste the blood, then he felt at his Boundless Mark Ability. It far easier to read in his Sanctum than out of it. Again, it told him what he already knew, that the Ability was active but somehow shrouded. It couldn't be thwarted by great distances or Doors, its Ascension from Hunter's Mark into Boundless Mark had seen to that. But somehow that feeble Fritz had eluded him, that slimy scent trail leading to a red, painted pillar and nothing more.

Had they found a Hidden Door? Something he himself had never seen, but somehow these two Pathers and their handful of spite shields had stumbled across out of sheer luck. His fists clenched and the flames raged.

Gritting his teeth and trying not to growl, he left his Sanctum. Needing to vent his fury, he pulled out his hunting bow and let loose a Skypierce Arrow. It pulled on his Stamina, but he had plenty of that. The arrow soared right through the eel statue's head, drilling a hole the size of his fist and showering the two weakling Pathers below it with splinters.

"Ow! Why'd you do that?" The thin one whined.

"Shut up," the fat one hissed, his eyes filled with a good amount of terror.

"You dare speak?!" Vaa'gur boomed, griping his dagger's dark ivory hilt.

When the man started spluttering an answer he drew his blade an inch out of its battered sheath.

Silence fell and Vaa'gur saw the small glint of bittersteel reflected in their fearful eyes. If he didn't need them to ward off the spite he would have skinned one of them right then and there. He continued to glare and they began to tremble, waves of horror roiled off them like silently shrieking steam. After a few heartbeats, he huffed and jammed the dagger back into place, then turned back to the Doors and paced.

He could hear them flee, shuffling away and whispering their pointless argument about who had angered 'the foreigner'.

He stroked his beard and set to making his gear ready, checking his bow, his quiver, his leather armour and making sure his badge was safe. Therima would tear him limb from limb if he lost the gaudy thing. It was all there and well cared for. Now if there wasn't sign or scent of the two he had marked in the next day he would climb to the sixth floor and leave. But not before 'losing' his two teammates. They would be a pitiable prize next to the other two. But the hungry must eat. And he was starving.

Just as he resigned himself to hunting the lesser of the game, his Boundless Mark flared in his chest. His heartbeat raced from the hot spark as it pointed the way. Upwards. They were back. Both of them. And they were a floor or two overhead. So close. Any Door would do here, so he chose the one that had the weakest beasts within. The leftmost Door was his first choice as the middle had the look of some sort of ruin floor, littered with traps and 'puzzles' and the rightmost had his Primal Instinct warn him of an apex predator, on the edge of becoming Exalted, in its watery lair.

It wasn't that he was scared of such a creature, no, he could easily have stalked then slaughtered it and he would have normally revelled in such a hunt. But Fritz and Bert were swiftly climbing and wily beyond what he would have normally thought of the dull natives of the miserable Rain City.

He called out his orders and the two weaklings followed, gear in tow. He slapped some self-made gill-grease on his neck and felt the tingle and sharp pain as the rents in his flesh grew. He threw the rest of the box and its ointment at his 'team' and strode into the Door that stank of lemons, plunging into the plane of water.

His new gills flared and his lungs filled with the mild water, but it did nothing to cool his passions or dampen his heart.

Vaa'gur grinned.

The hunt was on.