Spire's Spite

A rushing tide of grey, wrinkled, stick-thin figures began streaming out of a recently burrowed hole opposite the Stinkwall, catching his crew completely off-guard and unequipped. The goblins carried a multitude of scavenged weapons and mining tools and rushed the crew's camp in a giggling, guffawing and jabbering flood.

Fritz wheezed out a warning, “Greg... Stop... Look... Goblin... Hole... Goblin hole.” He forced out the words hoping they’d reach the bulky man looming over his prone form and stop from pummelling Fritz now that they were now being ambushed. He needn’t have bothered, as Greg let out a shout of alarm as a spear whizzed past his head.

Fritz heard the man sprint off to grab his armour and skull flail, leaving him sprawled face down in the dirt. Sid rushed to Fritz’s side and held out a helping hand while glancing rapidly at the onrushing goblins. He took Sid’s hand and let himself be pulled up to his feet, he started to sweat, he couldn’t count all the goblins charging them.

Fritz seized his energy and cast a Stone Pit into the gibbering horde, hoping to stall and trip even a few goblins. It worked better than expected as one of the foul creatures slipped into the newly formed hole and pulled down one of its brethren that was running beside it.

This turned into somewhat of a chain reaction as the goblin behind staggered, toppling over the fallen goblin’s prone form. A pileup had started to form until the swarm uncaringly stampeded over their fellow goblins crushing them underfoot in their mad dash to reach Fritz and his crew.

Fritz lifted himself to his feet, dashed to retrieve his blade from where he had left it next to his makeshift bedroll.

Unfortunately, the goblins were far quicker than their small statures and weak-looking legs would suggest. They were already upon him and Sid. Fritz dodged a spear thrust, leaping back and almost jumping into another goblin's rusty mining pick swung at his back. He spun, dodging just out of the way of getting a new hole where his spine should be. The motion flung his elbow into a goblin’s hideous face. With a crack, like stepping on old fish bones, the goblin's nose was shattered from the inadvertent strike.

Fritz and Sid found themselves surrounded by the stinking giggling monsters, Fritz saw Sid’s eyes focus on their bow out in the distance. He gauged the distance glaring through the goblins in the way, he ducked his head and dropped into the now familiar coiled Arte Pugilist stance. He winked at Fritz, a burning coal of fury catching to ember in his eyes and intoned, “Step in, not out Fritz, see you on the other side.”

Sid sprang at the goblins between himself and his bow, slipping skilfully under a spear’s thrust and countering with a devastating straight punch that blew the goblin and the two behind it off their feet with a roiling gust of wind. The first goblin fared poorly, its emaciated rib cage seemed to have collapsed in on itself and it lay in the dirt struggling for breath.

The two that had been bowled over by the sudden blast of air got to their feet quickly, but not quick enough to save them from Sid’s onslaught. He had already closed the distance elbowing one, deliberately, in the side of its head, and grabbing the other by an oversized ear and dragging its head into a vicious rising knee. Their skulls shattered with sickening cracks and they dropped limply to the ground.

Sid pushed on into the throng of goblins. Fritz held back and watched, counting his enemies, there had to be at least thirty. Maybe fifty if he wasn’t just going mad with panic. Sid’s back became lost to Fritz’s sight as was distracted by a leather clad goblin charging at him with a wicked club.

He dodged the spiked club by leaping backwards, again, straight into another goblin's strike. This time Fritz was unlucky and a stinging line of pain lit up across his back. He was double unlucky as he wasn’t wearing his leather vest as he had complained,‘It’s too hot to train in.” He cursed his soft as skulg-slime former self.

Another blow came from the side, this time, a club that smashed into his thigh, painfully numbing it. He glanced around trying to find a way to break out from being surrounded, to get out of his enemy's reach but found he had no space to maneuver, to dodge or to dart. Now or never I guess, time to take Sid and Greg’s advice, Fritz conceded as his mounting terror threatened to overwhelm him.

He ducked his head, hunched his shoulders, placed his feet just so, lifted his arms to cover his head and neck and stepped into an oncoming spear thrust. He clumsily slipped under the spearhead so it only lightly cut his shoulder and made to strike at the spear bearer with a quick jab. He caught himself before he missed his opportunity and instead put all the force he could muster into the jab, rendering it into more of a heavy punch.

The blow connected, hard, breaking the goblin's jaw clean off with a hideous snap. Fritz could feel the goblin's tiny needle teeth lodged between his knuckle bones as he pulled his fist away. However that didn’t hold his attention, no he felt that same strange energy as when he learned ‘The Observations.’ It stuck him again, a soft ripple that helped shape and guide his power, another subtle light to his invisible radiance and he knew he had earned the Technique that had eluded him so far.

It wasn’t perfect but it helped, he felt his body pull in on itself, his muscles and limbs seemed to compress, coiled to strike and strike hard. Blows rained upon him, but he dodged them with as little movement as possible, slipping them slightly or mitigating the force by shrugging with the blow when he was hit. He struck out in return, weaving between attacks and delivering compact but powerful punches, elbows and kicks to the diminutive creatures, shattering bones, cracking skulls and rupturing organs when he connected.

He pushed through the swarm, killing or wounding at least four goblins, and using his Stone Pit to sow chaos upon the goblins that attempted to pursue him by baiting them into newly a formed hole. Fritz could feel his Techniques and his Ability working in tandem supporting his efforts to get away and to cause mayhem within their thronging mass. He could see that the goblins were striking each other as much, if not more, as they were striking Fritz.

But there were just far too many, Fritz felt a painful stab then a powerful pull in his calf and slipped heavily to the ground. He looked around to find one of the bulkier goblins had pierced his leg with a mining pick and was swinging down with a mallet in its other hand. The mallet rippled with a magical heat haze. Fritz has seen Bert use Concussive Blow enough times to recognise the Ability and the goblin was aiming it down in a direct arc onto his head. He knew if he was hit it was lights out, forever.

A low echoing scream of fury washed over Fritz and the goblins, they quailed for a moment, stopping their movement for a second. Which bought just enough time for Bert to leap into the fray and throw a rippling fist into the back of the bulky goblin’s rumpled head. The force of the strike slammed it head-first into the dirt, killing it.

Bert started laying into the goblins around Fritz with his fists and feet. Greg came up behind him whirling that whistling skull-flail and yelling curses through his black helm. The flail was a true menace in the tightly packed goblin swarm, it slammed into swathes of the creature, shattering their weapons, armour and bones with its terrible force and cracking black light.

Fritz struggled to his feet, searching desperately for his fish blade, and heard a high-pitched cry “Fritz, fish blade incoming!”

He spun toward the voice and saw Sid held the sword overhead like a javelin, wind whipped around it and Sid let it fly. It soared, almost like an arrow, just slower and more devastating as it pierced and tore through a line of goblins. Severed stick-thin limbs were tossed into the air and blood sprayed forth in scores of small streams.

The blade struck tip-first, digging into the ground beside Fritz with a roiling gust of wind that blew dust directly into Fritz’s face. He spluttered, choked and covered his eyes as he seized the fish blade by its cloth hilt and yanked it out of the dusty floor.

With Quicksilver in hand he swung, thrust and cut at the now wavering goblins. His blows met their unarmoured grey flesh, severed their limbs, and punctured their bodies. Fritz saw Sid’s arrows bore into the more of the bulkier goblins, piecing their makeshift rag and leather armour, picking off their largest warriors one by one.

Fritz saw Veronica, Lynn and Naomi protecting Jane from the onrushing swarm. Their shields held high and fin blades flashing in the amber light while they slashed and stabbed at the goblins. Naomi’s blade blurred as she activated Flurry, it rose and fell cutting away at spear shafts and thin goblin limbs. Veronica kept her shield raised and protected Jane from any goblin attackers while Lynn had her back, brutalising any goblin unfortunate enough to enter the reach of her stone fists.

Bright bolt of blue-green flame burst against Veronica's shield setting it alight with eldritch flame, it burned with a high wailing screech. Magic that’s not good, Fritz immediately began tracing the flaming bolt's path, leading his eyes to a goblin gripping a fetish-laden staff and holding a flickering spark of blue-green flame over one elongated palm.

The goblin shaman cackled in manic joy as its magic burnt Veronica’s shield, it slung its second bolt of eldritch flame this time directed at Jane. It splashed against her left side, burning her face and shoulder. The fire clung to her skin causing it to sizzle and bubble with blisters. Her screams joined the shrill wail of the eldritch flame and she dropped to the ground rolling to put out the horrific blue-green fire.

The shaman's cackles intensified and then were abruptly replaced with gurgles as one of Toby’s black throwing knives lodged in its throat. Fritz saw Toby rush out of the now-shaken goblin horde, throwing more knives at the goblins that were guarding the shaman. With a dagger in each hand, Toby tackled the goblin spellcaster, landing on top of it and raining down Lacerate-infused stabs. As the shaman's life was snuffed out so too were the eldritch flames.

This was too much for the remaining goblins, there were maybe twenty left but after seeing the tides turn against them and their shaman fall to Toby’s blades they fled. Screaming, scurrying away and returning from whence they came. Fritz furiously followed, cutting down any goblins he could catch. But however quick they were at attacking they were doubly so at escaping and his fish blade’s edge only pierced two of their vile running backs, killing them with ease.

The kills felt hollow as he watched Veronica and Naomi by Jane’s side as she cried in agony, they forced a healing potion on her and she choked it down through her tears. The left side of her neck, her shoulder and her cheek starting just under her eye were a mass of burnt flesh and blisters. The burns looked terrible, but as the potion took effect the raw redness and the yellowing blisters reduced in severity, lightening and shrinking away into a patchwork of bright pink scars.

Fritz approached along with Toby whose usual grim demeanour had taken a turn into an aimless morose rage. Toby looked upon Jane and winced when she met his eyes, her tears were still flowing but it seemed the pain had stopped. She looked rough, scarred, a bit like her skin was melted wax where the flames kissed her.

She was never a beauty in the traditional sense but now she probably wasn’t one in a non-traditional sense either. Fritz immediately scolded himself for such a cruel, callous thought.

“How bad is it?” She asked staring at Toby as he averted his gaze, the cloying desperation clear in her voice.

“It's rough Jane. It looks painful, does it hurt?” Toby eventually replied. To angry glares of the young women.

“It still stings,” Jane began to weep, “Are you leaving me? After we get out?” Now that I’m hideous?” she started to wail, Veronica moved to embrace her but was beaten to the punch by Toby. He was on his knees holding her, and whispering into her ear. “Of course not, Jane, we'll get out of here and be free together, I’m never leaving you.” Jane’s wails subsided into heavy, heaving sobs and she clutched him close as he reassured her.

Veronica and Naomi smiled at each other while watching the sweet display. Too sweet for Lynn it seemed as she rolled her eyes and strode off to find somewhere less weepy to be. Fritz had to agree with Lynn’s sentiments and followed soon after to find Bert and make sure everyone else was alright.

He walked to the sitting Sid, Greg and Bert. The fatigue was starting to set in, he’d used at least three Stone Pits and the Arte Pugilist Technique for a few short minutes, while it saved his life it really took it out of him. He stumbled into a crouch when he reached the gathered group and looked them over.

They were cut and bruised but none of them seemed to have any major injuries, they were applying their healer's grease grateful for its stink rather than the pervasive rotting stench of the goblins and their foul blood.

“How is everyone?” Fritz asked as he slumped into a sitting position then hissed at the burning pain in his calf and on his back. “I think someone is gonna have to rub some grease on my back if there’s any left.”

“We all know that’s Bert’s job,” Greg rumbled pulling off his bulky, black helmet.

“Yes, yes, I’ll get right on it once I’ve greased myself,” Bert replied winking a wild amber eye at an aghast Sid.

“Do you not hear yourselves? You sound indecent,” Sid chided quietly, he pulled his scarlet scarf up to hide his reddening face.

“You get used to it,” Greg groused frowning his ugly frown. “Those two are insane, just ignore them, I do and it don’t effect me no more.”

“Anyways, what in the abyss did you do with my fish- with Quicksilver, you loosed it like a ballista bolt, how’d you do that?”

“Dunno, just infused it with wind strike and it drew a lot more stamina than I thought it would, maybe it sponges up mana?” Sid shrugged and offered Bert the last of his healing grease to use on Fritz.

“Huh, maybe, it is made from a monster. I’ll have to have it checked out when we get out of here,”

Fritz agreed tiredly and turned his back so Bert could apply the cool, numbing grease.

“Ahhh, ooohhh,” Fritz moaned exaggeratedly when Bert started tending to the long cut on his back. Sid stood and strode away mumbling about having to collect his loosed arrows. Greg shook his head and wandered off obviously fed up with Fritz’s over-the-top acting.

“Mmm yeah, that’s some good grease,” Fritz continued moaning out his performance as the numbing took effect, not all of it being acting as his back unclenched when the pain gradually disappeared. Sid’s stride increased in pace.

“Cut it out. They’re gone now, say what you want to say,” Bert said in a low voice slapping him on the back hard with a clap and a greasy squelch.

“That was bad, really bad. I would’ve died if not for you and Sid,” Fritz intoned as serious as the grave he wouldn't have had if the goblins got him. “This Spire is wrong, it’s far too deadly. Traps and monsters, on the second floor?”

“I thought that we were having such a hard time because we’re not equipped very well, we’re dressed in rags and fish scales, using the bones of a monster as weapons. You think it's more than that?” Bert asked soberly, walking around to Fritz’s front to get a look at his calf wound.

“I do, I don’t know why exactly but this Spire is cruel, I feel it in my bones. I have a profound sense of dread that it’s only going to get harder, do you still intend to climb the rest of the way with me?” Fritz replied and stretched out his leg to let Bert get a better look at the triangular hole the mining pick left in his leg.

Bert seemed to search Fritz’s worried face, his own rugged features in a pensive mask. Bert’s demeanour changed like the wind, an easy smile blew onto his face as he seemingly came to a decision. It was the same easy smile he wore when he and Fritz met for the first time three Tolls hence, almost a decade ago.

“If you’re climbing I’m climbing. You know that. No amount of danger or sense could ever stop the love typhoon,” Bert replied flippantly.

“I’m being serious Bert, you could get hurt. Hurt as bad as Jane, or worse,” Fritz said gloomily.

“I’m serious too, I’m going with you. And speaking of Jane, she should take a look at this,” Bert poked at the flesh just beneath the triangular gouge in Fritz’s calf, eliciting a soft “ouch” from the man.

“If you insist,” Fritz’s dark expression vanished into his charming grin. “Carry me, Bert, I could not walk another step without great peril and pains!” Bert rolled his eyes and gestured to the group congregating around Jane. “Get up Fritz, I’ll lend you my shoulder.”

Fritz stood and leant on Bert’s offered shoulder and they shared a brotherly smile “Thanks man, what would I do without you?” Fritz said.

“You wouldn’t do anything, you’d be dead,” Bert shrugged grinning wildly, jostling Fritz as he leant on him.

“Hey, it goes both ways, how many deadly scrapes have I saved you from exactly?” Fritz bickered grinning back.

“As many as you’ve put me in,” Bert effortlessly retorted.

Their easy camaraderie disguised as petty arguing carried on until they limped over to the crew in the centre of the room. The crew looked anxious, exhausted and frayed not just their clothing but their nerves too. They waited, wondering what they were going to do next. Fritz thought that the ambush had made them profoundly aware of all the time they had spent training in their temporary refuge.

“Jane, Fritz has a hole in his leg, are you up to fixing it?” Bert asked gently.

“Of course, lie down, Fritz,” Jane said brusquely, it seemed that she had been all cried out, drained of emotion and was now serious and solemn.

Fritz lay down as Jane requested, then she cast her spell, he winced at the odd feeling of his flesh knitting together rapidly. It was a strange pain but he welcomed it, as though it was a punishment for not being strong enough. Yet.

The crew sat, stood or in Fritz's case lay in silence, waiting on the next plan, not exactly eager, but dully desperate to get moving, to get off this floor. Fritz looked them over again, over the last couple of days they really had filled out, skinniness replaced with lean corded muscle. In Bert, Greg and even Lynn’s case, they were starting to look bulky giving them the look of young, well-fed soldiers.

Under the muck and goblin blood, he knew the women had added some weight, the healthy weight of softness over their burgeoning muscles. Once they had cleaned up he knew they would come out of this Spire even more beautiful than they came in.

They hadn’t just changed bodily, these two terrible floors had been whittling away at their weakness and whetting their edges. They had learnt the Techniques there was little to be gained from settling down for any longer, there were no more choices in Fritz’s mind.

“We move in five minutes, while the goblins are still fleeing. Our hiding place has been breached we can't stay here, we’re not giving them another chance to ambush us,” Fritz directed, his voice stern. He looked around to see any objections, to his surprise there were none, they didn’t even look to Bert for his confirmation.

“Onwards and upwards then.”