Spire's Spite

Fritz leapt out from behind the stone pillar he had been using to keep out of sight.

He was loath to do so, as sneaking around and stabbing the monstrous men in the back was likely to lead to better prospects. For him, but not the subdued women. For them every moment might be a new pain. The men began to grin and leer, keeping their weapons in their fists but reaching out with their free hands to feel fair flesh with their foul fingers. They aimed to touch, to paw at, the ladies. Fritz felt his chest burn.

“Unhand those fair maidens! They are under my protection, the shield of my honour and the sanctuary of my vow!” He yelled out in challenge. The distracted men stopped their manhandling of the women they had captured and turned to look at the interloper who dared to defy them and their cruel desires.

They scowled in unison, but stopped in their pathetic grasping.

“Leave it be, Fritz, or you’ll suffer worse than Bert got,” A man with lank pale yellow hair shouted back, shaking a tearful, but still standing, Naomi and bringing up his sword to point at Fritz.

“I cannot, justice demands my intervention. Free the women or face Quicksilver cowards!” Fritz gallantly proclaimed flourishing his fish blade and taking a couple of cautious steps toward the man.

The scarred man that was looming over Lynn stopped pulling at her shirt and took out his axe from its belt loop. He started to walk in a circle around Fritz, holding his shield loosely, and moving to flank him. The dark-haired man holding Veronica extended an arm, pointed his palm at Fritz, and prepared a spell.

Fritz tried to keep the scarred circling man in his peripheral vision while also keeping an eye on the spell caster holding Veronica as a human shield.

It was subtle but Fritz saw a roiling spot of darkness appear in the man's palm, a bolt of shadow formed and loosed just as the circling man charged his side.

Sid stepped out from behind one of the pillars and bent his bow aiming for the man holding Veronica, but unwilling to fire on her, changed target and loosed a wind-imbued arrow at the charging man. The arrow soared through the air only to be met by the man's shield, as the wooden barrier blurred upwards to cover his head and neck, smashing the arrow to pieces. He staggered as he blocked the blow but only a small gouge was left in the shield from the attack.

Sid cursed and went to re-nock an arrow as Fritz leapt to the side and away from the shadow bolt flung at his chest. He almost leapt straight onto the blade of Naomi’s captor who had roughly pushed her onto the ground in a heap. The Arte Pugilist Technique saved him in that moment as he seized his own sideways momentum, coiled it in upon himself and spun, slipping past the blade’s point. As he continued his small spin he used the slight momentum to strike out with his own sword, thrusting it towards the man’s chest.

The fish blade's edge cut across the man's ribs slicing the skin and muscle neatly and leaving notches on his bones as it ground over them. The lank haired man yelled in pain and threw himself to the side, away from Fritz’s all-too-sharp weapon. He looked down at the cut then glared at Fritz as his veins protruded and pulsed rapidly, his face reddened and his features contorted into a savage grimace. His eyes filled with a mindless rage, focused on Fritz and he charged with a mad howl.

The man moved fast, his muscles bulged with new strength and they strained against his scarred skin, he was upon Fritz, his sword descending in a furious chop that he only narrowly avoided in a controlled tumble. Fritz was rolling onto his feet just as the man that had previously been circling him regained his balance and began to run at him cutting off Fritz’s escape.

Fritz called on his Stone Pit, reflexively deciding to place it in front of the scarred man that was coming after him with wild slashes. As Fritz dodged another savage swing, the pit formed as the man stomped closer trying to continue his mad assault. When his foot found the hole he tripped and crashed onto the rough dark stone, his sword fell from his grip and Fritz, seizing an opportunity, kicked the weapon out of his reach.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fritz saw the glittering curve of an axe head swinging towards his neck. He threw himself at the ground, casting aside his own fish blade for a moment so as not to land on his own sword’s wicked edge. He struck the ground hard, the wind was pushed out of his lungs but he didn’t let a little winding stop him from rolling to the side as the axe came down in an executioner's strike. The axe missed Fritz but bit into the stone causing sparks to spit onto his arm.

Fritz looked up at the figure looming over him and the man lifted his axe to strike again, “Not so tough without Bert to save you huh?” He gloated. Fritz looked around for Sid and saw him dodge another bolt of shadow while not risking loosing an arrow in return lest it hit Veronica. Fritz cursed and fumbled at his belt reaching for anything he might use to get him out of this danger. His hand clasped onto something bony and slightly sticky, that he had long forgotten he had. He did his best not to smile.

“I don’t need Bert to save me, unlike you need who needs two mates just to assault these women,” Fritz taunted. “Rapist scum,” he added for bluntness when the man didn’t seem to get his insult quick enough. The scarred man scowled and brought down the axe, right onto Fritz’s leg instead of somewhere less easy to move like his torso or head. The blow went wide as the stone the man was standing on shifted, his right foot falling into a newly created hole.

Fritz rolled sideways again but was able to push himself up and into a crouch quickly as the man recovered from his swing. He didn’t waste his time, he leapt like a frog, bowling the man over with a reckless tackle. Fritz stabbed the rediscovered blight hound fang into the scarred man's leg as they slammed to the ground in a thrashing tangle of limbs.

He struggled to extract himself from the chaotic press but the man was far too strong, easily overpowering Fritz’s own unenhanced strength. The man took control of the impromptu grapple easily pinning Fritz underneath his greater bulk, he sat atop him holding one of his arms to the ground. He brought up his axe preparing to chop down into Fritz’s leather-clad chest.

Fritz did the only thing he could think of, he punched the jagged fang sticking out of the man's thigh, driving it deeper, eliciting a howl of pain and, most importantly, distracting the man enough to weaken his grip on Fritz’s arm for a precious moment.

He used all the wiles, slippery shifting and sly shimmying, he had leant from his other scrapes on the streets of the Sunken Ring, to slip out of the man's hold. Fritz scrambled away and to his feet, quickly glanced over the battlefield trying to glean the condition of his friends.

Naomi was slowly standing, swaying a little after her hard fall and dazedly searching for her fin sword. Sid was dodging another shadow bolt, it whispered insidiously as it soared past Sid’s head and struck a pillar, dissipating like coiling smoke with a soft hiss.

Sid was aiming another arrow, this time at the lank-haired man as he rose recklessly swinging his blade at Fritz, not caring in the slightest that the scarred man stood in his path.

The scarred man's shield blurred up again, blocking the sword's wild arc but he still staggered from the force of the blow. Must be some kind of block ability, Fritz realised as he took advantage of the brief reprieve, running to and retrieving his fallen fish blade. As he spun to face his opponents once more the savage slash of a sword threatened to gut him, he leant back just far enough that the cut only grazed his stomach, parting his leather vest and leaving a bright line of blood on his pale skin.

The lank-haired raging madman, swung again, giving Fritz no time to gain distance. There was a whooshing then a thud as an arrow passed through the wrist of the man's sword arm, leaving a gaping hole that immediately began to pour out blood. His sword clattered to the stone floor but he furiously ran on towards Fritz uncaring that he had no blade, nor protection. Seeming so lost in rage that he could only rush at Fritz to throttle him with his bare hands. Another Stone Pit trick then, Fritz strategised tiredly.

Again, the raging man tripped as the stone beneath him shifted, again, another man fell on top of Fritz. This time though he steeled his stance, braced his legs and thrust his fish blade’s point forward and into the man's gut, impaling him. The man didn’t leap away or slump in shock as Fritz expected but instead he bellowed out in rage and pushed Fritz down landing on top of him and reaching out for his neck with his bulky, overly veined hand.

He hatefully grasped Fritz's throat and squeezed hard. Fritz thought he could feel his neck creak under the man's inhuman strength and black shadows blossomed in the corners of his sight.

In desperation Fritz began to pull his fish blade up then down sawing at the man's organs cutting them out and away, blood was gushing out of the man in a torrent, still, he stared down with terrible rage burning like a forge's fire, a forge's fire that was only just beginning to cool.

The man's grip began to steadily weaken as Fritz continued his carving and cutting. Though it felt like a full night of working, the lank-haired man slumped, releasing Fritz’s throat, his bloodshot eyes now cold, dark and dead.

Fritz panted, he was exhausted, sweating and cursing his luck as he pushed the dead man off of himself, a simple task now that the man was no longer empowered by whatever ability he had been using. The man's ruined gut spilled chunks of rent human offal and drenched him with gouts of dark blood, hot like a thick scarlet stew, as he heaved the body off himself.

Sitting up Fritz heard a shriek of pain and glanced around at Naomi and Veronica, seeing that Naomi had just picked up her blade and was slowly approaching the scarred axe man with a determined but wary cast to her visage.

Veronica was still held by the shadow caster and Lynn lay on the shattered ground, still dazed from the blow she took from when she had been captured. The shriek, it seemed, had come from Sid as he kneeled, one arm hung limp with a dark grey stain on the smooth pale skin of his bicep and another still smoking on his thigh. Veronica upon hearing the shriek, snapped out of whatever surprised stupor she was in and reached up gripping the man's outstretched arm.

The caster was panting, probably from the effort of casting as many shadow bolts as he did and looked down in shock, which turned to horror, as he was pulled off his feet by Veronica’s sweeping throw. Veronica spun as she kicked the man's leg from under him, pulled on his arm and threw him straight at the hard floor, utilising the Arte Pugilist’s Technique just like they'd practised. The was a sickening crack as the man's head collided with the stone and blood pooled and bubbled out of his ruined face as he lay sprawled.

The axeman stared at Naomi as she slowly stepped closer to him, he shook his head and grinned as if he had nothing to fear from the slightly dark-haired woman. He made to charge her but the leg that had been pierced by the blight hound fang seemed to move sluggishly, he stumbled instead, keeping his feet but lurching forward awkwardly.

He glanced down at his wound, dismay coloured his features as he saw the creeping dark veins crawling up his thigh. The venom’s got him, thank you for the idea, Toby, you poisonous prick.

Noticing the man's staggering gait, Naomi threw aside caution and charged the man, swinging her fin blade with abandon. The man lifted his shield, blocking a couple of the Flurry strikes but Naomi dashed around him, taking advantage of his unresponsive leg, stabbing him repeatedly in his unprotected side and back. One, three, five, six holes punctured the man within a moment as Naomi stepped away from his ungainly counter slash. He slouched, fell to the ground kneeling, then slumped face down dying, his life spilling out of the holes and painting the stone scarlet.

The world seemed quiet again for a moment until Fritz could register Sid’s soft grunts of pain and the ragged, gurgling breathing of the sprawled spell caster. Fritz just watched as Veronica picked up the axe lying by the punctured man, heaved it over her shoulder and trudged over to the still-breathing spell caster.

The pretty inviting light that usually shone in Veronica’s eyes had been replaced with a cold, bitter vindication. Fritz thought she almost smiled as she brought down the axe on the man's neck with a meaty thwack, it parted flesh and bone, the head tumbling into one of the small stone pits created by Fritz’s spell.

Their gazes met as they both tore away their eyes from the severed head, that coldness was still there in her eyes and he suppressed a shiver, she held his stare waiting for him to speak, to challenge her decision to execute the man.

Fritz smiled his false smile, he didn’t feel anything right now except numb relief, but he thought he ought to put the woman at ease and so spoke jovially, “Beat me to it, Veronica, good work.”

She nodded then smiled back those brown eyes still so bitterly cold. “He didn’t really deserve a quick death, but no one really gets what they deserve do they?” She asked rhetorically.

When Fritz shrugged a nod, her eyes softened losing much of their icy edge, “You came for us as you promised, guess the chivalrous act isn’t really an act.”

Fritz struggled to keep eye contact, shame bore down on his smile but he kept it firmly in place. “My word is a sacred vow and as true as the rain,” He lied, not easily, but too easily for him to feel comfortable.

Veronica glanced away from Fritz, turning her attention to the unconscious Lynn. She jogged, then knelt by her side. There was a nasty lump forming right on the dark-skinned woman’s hairline, her breath came softly as if she were asleep.

Fritz heard a clattering of a fallen fin blade, then a sobbing from where Naomi stood, tears trickling down her face. He looked to Veronica, when he saw she was too concerned with Lynn he turned to Sid who was furiously rubbing at a grey spot on his thigh as if it were numb from cold.

Fritz sighed inwardly, agitated and knowing he had little time to catch up to Steve but still feeling he had an obligation to help the ladies after the traumatic fight. Maybe Toby and Jane can slow Steve down Fritz hoped as she strode up to the bawling Naomi.

“Naomi, are you hurt?” Fritz asked as he stood beside her looking over the punctured corpse of the man she had killed albeit with the help of the blight hound venom.

She nodded rapidly then bowed and shook her head, blubbering out an incomprehensible response.

“What I didn’t quite catch that,” Fritz said, placing a hand on her shoulder in support. She startled, then froze at the touch. Fritz winced and quickly removed his hand muttering, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I wasn’t thinking.”

He gave her a weak smile as she shook her head, her tears stymied by the sudden shock. “Sorry, it's not you. I just killed him, I killed a man, and I don’t feel bad for killing him, I don’t why I’m crying, I do feel bad but I don’t know why. I don’t know why.”

Fritz realised he felt similar, a deep dread that he had caused another human harm, that it was something he couldn't take back, even if they were about to kill him and hurt these women.

His promise had cost these men their lives, the thought weighed on him and he slouched unconsciously. Anger flared up in him when he remembered their predatory stares, and their callous disregard for the women. Don’t feel sorry for them they chose to do what they did, to stay behind and inflict needless cruelty. They chose suffering, they chose death by your hand.

He didn’t know what to say to Naomi and didn’t trust himself to speak without going into a hateful rant. So he instead responded with a commiserating grunt, hoping he could offer at least some comfort.

He looked over the bodies, trying not to notice the scaled form of Greg, but finally his mind would no longer let him ignore the body of one of his gang. He trudged towards the body, saw the skull-flail cut into pieces laying by his side, its skull staring eyelessly at him in accusation.

His sight blurred as he knelt before the still, silent Greg, he checked the man for breathing or a heartbeat. Nothing. Just a warmth that was slowly leeching out into the cold stone. A tear escaped Fritz’s eye, and he wiped it away quickly. He never really liked the man, he always thought Greg was a crude, incurious lout. That didn’t mean he wanted the idiot to die, not before he could give him a piece of his mind.

Fritz ruminated on all the things he had left to say to the brute, all the recriminations or the apologies that he might have given in the future and all the insults he had levied in the past. All worthless now.

Fritz had thought himself inured to death and the loss it stirred within. He knew that he had already dealt with worse before. The disappearance and likely demise of his father in the Rain Spire and the murder of his mother by the Guide’s Guild enforcers as she defended her estate from their predations, their looting, thieving hands. But no, this was a new loss, a lesser loss but a loss all the same.

Dwelling on it wouldn’t help him now, there was time for that after the Spire he told himself so he hardened his heart and stood, remembering he had somewhere to be, someone to save and someone to kill.

Sid was up again, testing out their injured arm with a short series of punches and Lynn was starting to wake, her eyes flickering as Veronica splashed her with water out of her water skin. Naomi was pulling herself together slowly, meandering over to Lynn and Veronica’s side. Fritz went to join them and check on Lynn.

As he walked past the punctured corpse he pulled free the blight hound fang from the man's leg, it came free with a sticky tearing of flesh and Fritz tucked the life-saving fang into his belt.

Lynn looked up blearily at the gathered crew, and grumbled “What did I miss? Where’s those arseholes that jumped us? When did the pretty boy get here? Vee?” She slowly sat up with a little help from Veronica and looked around at the remains of the battle.

Fritz stifled a smirk at the pretty boy comment and let Veronica answer Lynn’s questions and let Naomi see to Lynn’s condition, feeling he needed to move and quick.

He jogged over to Sid who was bent over stretching his strangely enticing leg and displaying a surprisingly shapely behind. Fritz shook his head, Since when did I lean that way? He discarded the thought immediately, reflecting that it didn’t matter right now.

“Sid, we need to move as quick as possible, I need your help to catch Steve and make him pay,” Fritz asserted looking away from the stretching Sid and string over the broken plains, seeing the gleam of a silver in the distance.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand still and not chase the silver light with abandon.

Sid nodded, “As soon as I’ve checked on the girls we can go. You might want to check the bodies for anything useful.”

“Sure, but keep the farewells short,” Fritz agreed anxiously, knowing he needed Sid’s help to take on the rest of Steve’s crew, and frustratedly began to check the bodies. He found no potions or healing grease, they had little on them save their weapons or ruined armour, which Fritz didn’t need nor want. His trusty fish blade had served him well so far.

After searching the last of the men, a job taking a few precious minutes, Sid jogged up to him giving Fritz a strained smile. “Let’s go, the girls are fine for now, Lynn’s Tough Skin saved her from most of the blow but they aren’t up for a chase. So the others are staying with her until she recovers. It’s just you and me, Fritz, let’s go catch that prick Steve.”

Fritz nodded and set his gaze on the broken horizon straining to see that silver gleam again, it glinted in the bright light and Sid and Fritz set off, hunting down their quarry over the fissured stone.