Spire's Spite

Fritz pursued the glimpse of silver, up and down the small jutting ridges and across the difficult broken ground. He wiped off the budding sweat on his forehead and ran on, the room wasn’t hot per se but that bright pyramid burned overhead like a mockery of the sun and baked their flesh if they didn’t find some time in the shade of the pillar forests. It hadn’t been this hot the whole time, Fritz assumed it was just some new torture the Spire implemented for its own arcane reasons.

Like those Meritocratic Conditions, what were they? He was sure he’d heard something like it once before. Maybe from my father? Maybe I read it in one of his books or journals? Not now, focus on the present! Snapping the chain of thoughts that had been distracting him he bent his mind back to the rocky plain intent on finding Steve.

Sid followed at his side they were both tired he could see it in the slight heaviness of their footfalls, the fight had drained them considerably but there was no time to rest. Even if it had only been a couple of minutes of fighting but every minute's head start Steve had felt like years to Fritz. He pushed himself harder, he thought he could see bright dots of blue-green light in the distance, the doors?

Sid stumbled a couple of times but always caught himself and kept running, it was quite a feat on the treacherous floor. Fritz heard him call out panting and exasperated to his back when he didn’t slow his pace. “Fritz, how much Agility do you have? You’re not tripping up at all.”

“Three,” Fritz panted as he doggedly kept up his pace.

“That makes no sense, I have nine and I have Fleet, why are you moving faster?” Sid argued cursing as he nearly tripped again.

“I’m not... I’m just picking the best way...through the rough...terrain. You’re losing...speed... stumbling and slipping...on flat ground you’d blitz me. I think it...must be a synergy...between my Perception...Trap sense...and...The observations.” Fritz explained through gulping breaths. “Just copy me...watch where I put my feet...step where I step...you should be... fine.”

Sid grumbled something inaudible over the thudding of their boots on the dark stone and fell behind following Fritz just as he suggested. Fritz smirked through his ragged breaths but that smirk was soon interrupted by Sid’s voice close behind, “I’m sorry about Greg, it must suck to lose someone in your crew.”

Fritz grunted, “I didn’t really...know him that well...I don’t really want to... talk about him...at the moment...we have to get that dagger...and...save Bert.”

Fritz couldn’t see it but could almost feel Sid frown in worry, he let the uncomfortable pause linger and instead focused on his path, where to place his feet and the pounding of his heart. He tried to get his breathing under control, in out, in out, until he finally had somewhat of a rhythm going and the running became more bearable. Only on the easy patches of ground did he risk the attention to glance ahead at the increasingly large Doors, their blue-green light and for any sign of Steve.

They ran, minutes passed as they traversed the rough stone, jumped over craters and fissures, ran around pillars and strode up steep inclines. It wore away at their stamina, fatigue set in, their steps getting heavier and heavier. Sid seemed to have it better as he could follow Fritz easier than finding his own path and he had used less magic in Veronica Naomi and Lynn’s rescue.

It occurred to Fritz that without his Endurance Attributes he’d probably be lying flat on his face completely exhausted. As it was he was tired but not stumbling or falling down tired, he thanked the Spires for that much.

“There, can you see him?” Fritz pointed at another thicket of stone pillars where a flash of silver glinted and the clatter of metal on metal could be heard. “I think Toby and Jane are fighting Steve’s crew, let’s help.”

They ducked through the pillars, weaving through the jagged gaps and heading toward the commotion. “Get your bow ready,” Fritz ordered as he slammed his back to a pillar hiding his presence as he listened to the yells from nearby.

“Stop Steve! We don’t want to fight, leave us be, there’s enough Doors for all of us!” Jane’s scared voice echoed off the pillars.

“Not on my watch, they may be idiots but they’re still my gang,” Steve replied grunting with effort.

Fritz signalled Sid to stealthily follow, Sid nodded then brushed his sweaty blonde fringe out of his eyes. He crouched low, prepared an arrow, held it against his bow, ready to be loosed at a moment's notice.

Fritz was struck then by how much he was trusting to this man, one that a mere day or two ago he would have called his greatest enemy and rival. Now here he was, as trusty as any of his crew. Reflecting on the other's reactions to Bert’s wounds, their resignation and abandonment, Fritz supposed Sid was trustier than all of them.

Fritz was glad to have him and was truly grateful for his aid, even if it could still be some self-serving scheme. He didn’t really feel that Sid’s game was to trick him but his mind told him not to trust him, he felt he was missing something about the blue-eyed boy however his instinct was steering him towards trust. Might as well trust Sid, what have I got to lose? Bert’s dead if his injuries can’t heal, the trip would tear those wounds open and he’d bleed out before we even walked six minutes.

The shouts had been replaced by wordless yells and grunts of effort. No screams. Yet. Fritz steeled himself for the fight to come and, with a signal to Sid, risked poking his head around the jagged pillar he hid behind, gazing upon the battlefield. What he saw dismayed him, Toby was standing in front of Jane, protecting her from the attacking men. They had their backs to a large pillar to avoid being completely surrounded.

A baby-faced man hefted his shield up to his throat deftly deflecting one of Toby’s throwing knives, then stabbed forward with the spear he held in his other hand. Toby nimbly dodged the blow. He had always been wily and hard to hit even before he had aligned his Attributes and now with the enhancements from Agility, he was proving even slipperier. He demonstrated this fact again when he quickly ducked a blow from the copper hammer wielded by the last member of Steve’s crew.

The hammer-man startled backwards clutching at a line of scarlet on his forearm, a parting gift from Toby’s knife, as Toby stepped back and resumed his crouching knife-fighting stance motioning Steve forward with a beckoning gesture from his bloodied blade.

Jane screamed as Steve lunged around Toby’s guard, a sword in one hand and his bone dagger in his other. His sword struck out almost planting the blade in Toby’s chest. Toby leant out of the way pivoting out of the path of the blade, receiving a small gouge as it punctured through his leather vest. There was a screech of grinding metal as Toby’s dagger scratched at the silver breastplate on its lower left side, Toby swept his other dagger at Steve’s neck, which Steve parried with his own curved bone blade.

Steve stepped back after the daggers clanged off of each other, he grinned, displaying his crooked teeth, when he saw the blood dripping out of the gash he had cut. “Just roll over and die Toby, it’ll be easier on you. And her.”

Toby scowled, his features more sour than ever, “Piss off. Don’t threaten Jane, I’ll gut you. You rat-faced coward,” he responded, his voice low and dangerous.

Steve’s crew circled preparing another assault, Toby eyed the men as they closed in, fear and hate warring in his flickering gaze. He settled grimly into his stance as if he knew he was already caught, a dead man as true as the rain. Nonetheless, there was determined resignation to his features that said he was going to take down as many as he could before he perished.

Fritz gave the signal for Sid to fire on the hammer wielder, then skulked forward in a stealthy crouch hoping to take Steve by surprise. He heard Sid step out from his pillar and take aim, the bow bending with a slight groan and the air sucking away as if a giant had taken a breath. Something about the change in the almost non-existent wind alerted the hammer man and he turned to see Sid and Fritz on the precipice of springing their ambush.

He raised his hammer, stepped to the side and was about to call out when an arrow plunged just under his collarbone. The arrow drilled deep punching through his upper chest, its tip bursting out of his back and spiting red onto Steve’s sword arm. The arrow stuck there, protruding, blood trickled from the puncture wound and down the wooden shaft.

“Argh! Watch out! Gods-damned Sid and Fritz are here,” The hammer man warned as he yelled out in pain. Obviously the arrow had missed his lung judging from the loudness of his voice, much to Fritz’s chagrin.

Fritz abandoned any pretence at stealth and broke into a sprint straight for Steve while Sid nocked a new arrow and aimed at the hammer man again.

Fritz put Sid and the hammer man out of his mind, as he ducked under a suddenly interposed spear and lunged with his fish blade. The blade scratched across the silver breastplate, sending sparks flying as Steve turned to face his attacker. Fritz pulled back on his sword then struck out at Steve’s unprotected legs and arms as he should have done in the first place hadn’t been startled into quick action.

Steve dodged, ducked and parried with his sword taking advantage of his two weapons to keep his limbs safe from Fritz’s frantic attacks. Fritz’s goal however was not just to cause injury but to get him to turn his back to Toby.

He glanced over Steve’s armoured shoulder and met Toby’s eyes. Jane whispered something to him and his dark eyes darted away, ashamed. Toby spun, looped his arm around Jane’s elbow and without another look back the two slipped around the pillar and out of sight.

They left Fritz and Sid to fight Steve and his crew alone, to save Bert alone.

It was in that moment Fritz knew the crew had broken irrevocably, he had assumed it would happen if Bert died, but it seemed that he was wrong on that account, it only took a couple of stab wounds.

Rage boiled in Fritz, admonishing himself, Toby and Jane. He channelled that anger into his attacks, swinging and stabbing at Steve as fast as he could. It was sloppy, he could tell as he started taking light cuts from Steve’s sword and how he had to keep backing up as the spearman flanked him and added his spear to the duel.

He rolled away, under a hewing side slash from Steve’s sword, attempting to increase the distance from the two men hemming him in. The spearman was ready for the roll and jabbed his spear forward piercing Fritz’s forearm just as he was about to find his feet. Luckily it was his empty-handed arm and the fish scale bracer absorbed some of the force.

Fritz screamed as he pulled on the spear stuck within his flesh, and chopped down violently with his fish blade hacking a deep notch into the wooden shaft. Seeing the effectiveness of his sword's edge Fritz pulled the blade down and through the wood shearing it into two pieces with astonishing ease.

He stepped back as a shield was punched at his face, taking the top half of the spear lodged in his forearm and bracer with him. The shield attack had left the spearman open so Fritz lunged into the gap thrusting forward with his blade and skewering the man through the chest. He must have taken him in the heart because the spearman fell instantly, crashing to the ground with shock inscribed on his face and exhaling a curse on his last breath.

Steve was on Fritz in a moment, his sword imposing on Fritz’s attention as it attempted to part his head from his shoulders in a wide sweep. Fritz parried the blow with his own sword, deflecting it away and to the side. Fritz smirked as Steve over-committed to the strike, he had trapped Steve into suffering his riposte. He thrust forward along his foe's blade and into the skin of the man's unprotected upper arm leaving a small bright red gash.

He was about to press forward on his counter, levying his advantage to rend Steve’s flesh further when he noticed a roiling shadow around the man's other hand. The dagger was almost in his gut before he finally saw it.

Fritz threw himself back abandoning the rest of his counterattack and landing hard on his back. The fall pushed the air out of him, stunning him for a second until his attention was pulled to the small cut and a creeping cold where the shadowed dagger had caught him just under his belly button.

How did he fall for that? That attack wasn’t an over-commitment but a feint. How could he possibly not have noticed the curved bone blade until it was just about to hit? He realised the Ability was very similar, if not the very same, to Gloom Strike the Ability he’d been offered on the first floor.

He tried to remember the description, it had something about making attacks harder to track, that had to be it. He had severely underestimated the ability if it could trick him like that, he probably only saw it at the last second due to his high Perception Attribute.

He cursed his luck, in that moment regretting his choice of Stone Pit. With Gloom Strike he could have developed a fighting style that let him embrace his flashiness and flourishes, using his main hand to distract and deceive while using his off hand to deliver the hard to perceive deadly strikes. Much like what Fritz now realised Steve was doing.

It was only two floors up, the fact that Steve had already grasped a style, even if it was only in its basest, most unpolished form like this, without the benefits of education or guidance from a tutor shocked Fritz.

Was Steve a hidden talent, a once-in-a-generation genius? No, he knew the man, he was cunning for sure, a sneaky prick with a knack for alley fighting. But a genius? No. But if he was no genius how was he beating me? I’ve been prepared and trained, I’ve read primers and guides on Abilities and Climber strategy. Sure my education was cut short but it should give me a huge advantage, especially against commoners or sneak thieves like Steve.

Fritz knew those in the Upper Ring thought that nothing great could come from the common blood, sure maybe a good guard or artisan here or there, but generally they just didn’t have the skill, courage or discipline to climb the Spires as the Nobility did.

Fritz had thought Bert the exception to the rule a steady, bright lantern in the sea of weak, sputtering candles that were the common folk. Being of lesser nobility himself he had thought he was destined to climb higher than anyone else he knew and would bring Bert along with him. Now that he actually had to fight the street rats he was finding that his dismissal of their strength and guile had been sorely misguided.

Maybe there was just more to be said for those who weren’t born into wealth or title, maybe it was him who was truly unsuited for the climb ahead.

Fritz lay there thoughts clattering around his shaken mind and off of his rattled ego, reassessing his view of the world and his place in it. You’re fighting to the death, it’s not the time to do this. Get up fool. Suppressing his revelations and the chaotic bent to his racing mind and jumping to his feet, he searched for Sid, hoping he hadn’t also fled like Toby and Jane did.

Sid was thankfully still there but busy avoiding the hammer man, who had an another arrow planted in his shoulder just above the previous arrow.

Fritz could see it was a losing battle for the hammer man, he couldn't hope to catch Sid.

Sid was waiting for the hammer man to trip or stumble, to plant an arrow in him at that moment of recovery a moment where he’d be unable to dodge. Sid could be no help for now, keeping that other man distracted and away from Steve and Fritz’s fight was the best he could hope for, but that’s all he needed. Right let's do this, I can't lose, Bert needs me.

The mere moments Fritz took to think and to assess his surroundings almost proved fatal as Steve lunged past Fritz’s fish blade and plunged his dagger towards his thigh. Fritz stepped back out of the dagger's deadly decent, and only because he was paying special attention for any shadows, got his free arm up and in the way of the black coiled steel blade of Steve’s sword as it arced toward his head.

Dull cold lessened the intense pain that accompanied the hideous hack that shook the bones in Fritz’s forearm and rattled the spearhead still lodged there.

Fritz yelled in agony as the blade cut into his forearm, cutting away the fish scale bracer and the flesh below. The scaled cloth clattered to the ground, cold writhed into his muscle and bone. His sight darkened and the world around was muffled.

Fritz gritted his teeth and brought up his fish blade attempting to skewer Steve as the rat-faced man yanked his sword, freeing it from where it had been lodged in Fritz’s arm with a spurt of blood.

Steve stepped out of Fritz’s clumsy attack, glanced at the injury he had inflicted and wet his thin lips with a darting tongue. He looked around for his crew but seeing them dead or preoccupied began to negotiate.

"Come on, Fritz, ain’t no use fightin’ no more. I don’t wanna kill you just cause you got a grudge to settle. Bert’s dead, as true as the rain and killin’ me won't change that,” Steve stated with an overplayed attempt at congeniality and casualness. The word’s almost seemed whispered to Fritz’s dulled hearing.

Steve shuffled slightly in his stance as Fritz stared back, not speaking for once. They stood like that for some seconds, holding each other's gaze, subtly flexing their limbs and grips, preparing for the fight to reignite. The darkness, quiet and cold seemed to recede as the seconds went by.

“The dagger, leave it. Then you can scamper away like the rat you are. That’s my offer Steve, dagger or death,” Fritz intoned as he swayed slightly, blood trickling from his limp arm to splatter onto the dark stone.

Fritz was tired, his legs burned from the running, fighting and dodging and he knew that once he used his Stone Pit again he would be empty, so he knew he had to keep it for the right moment or he would die. Just as Steve said.

“Death?” Steve spat disbelievingly his eyes widening in anger. “You’ll be the one who dies skulg-spawn, this dagger’s mine and you wont have it. I’m leaving, don’t follow if you want to live.”

Steve was about to step away but must have read something in Fritz’s grim expression that he didn’t like because he instead made to lunge at Fritz.

That’s my opening, Fritz thought in triumph as a smirk pulled across his face as he formed his last Stone Pit right under where Steve was about to step, just like he had done with the goblins and the others of Steve’s crew. As his energy left him and the hole shifted into being, his heart sank and despair dragged at his gut as Steve did not step into the hole, in fact, he didn’t move at all.

Fritz looked up and into his face, Steve looked mildly surprised at the appearance of the hole but met Fritz’s falling smirk with one of his own.

“Is that what you chose? You tricky bastard,” Steve gloated as Fritz felt the fatigue settling into his body making even staying standing an ordeal. Both of Steve’s blades were covered in rippling darkness, accompanied by eerie whispering alighting just at the edge of hearing. “Well I’d like to say it was nice knowing you, Fritz. But it wasn’t.”