Spire's Spite

It was a slaughter.

Arrows wrapped in winding winds drilled through the first and second rank of goblin swarm. Fritz followed in Bert’s wake as he ploughed into the teeming horde, he covered his friend’s flank with sawing sweeps of his fish blade, focusing on hacking away limbs rather than aiming for necks or heads. Bert seemed not to care much where he struck, only bothering to wreathe his strikes with rippling force when facing down a captain in their hard, mushroom armour. Those goblins wearing hide, or even worse nothing, had their chests and heads caved in with compact yet mighty blows from his fists, elbows with the occasional devastating knee or sweeping kick.

Bert seemed untouchable by their ungainly strikes and a ring of broken bodies was starting to pile around him. Fritz noticed a flash of blue-green and a bolt of eldritch fire shot out, seemingly from the back of the horde. It went wide and struck a goblin warrior setting its hide vest alight with the shrieking, eerie flame.

Fritz called out to Bert, “I need to break out, Corrosive Spray to the left!”

Bert obeyed the order, pulling his fist back from a punch that had shattered a warrior’s skull and opening his hand, palm out. The misting acid came forth in a torrent, covering the goblins to his left. Their screams were added to the cacophony of gibbering and giggling. Fritz took the opening, charging through the gap that the staggering, screaming goblins left as they stumbled away and rubbed at their melting flesh.

Using his fish blade to fend off any errant goblin attacks Fritz burst through the encirclement and ran into the cover of the mushroom forest. Another bolt of blue-green flame arced toward Bert and Fritz yelled out a warning, “Bert! Fire! Up and right!”

Bert glanced upwards and quickly spotted the lobbed flame, he lunged forward and seized a captain under its arms, narrowly dodging its radiant baton and hefting the goblin up like it was a child. He held the struggling creature between him and the bolt of eldritch fire. The blue-green flame splashed against its mushroom-plated back and Bert flung the newly fire-engulfed goblin far away and into its fellows.

Fritz didn’t have time to stare at Bert’s display of complete martial dominance and made to search for the shamans and captains spitting out commands and threats from the back line. A wind-infused arrow whizzed overhead, following down the bolt of magic’s arc, about to strike one of the talisman-laden shamans. It should have hit the giddy spell-caster, but instead the arrow was caught in a current of swirling air and thrown off course into a warrior’s chest.

Fritz cursed, he had hoped that Sid would be able to pick off the leader goblins with her bow but it seemed that wasn’t going to be feasible against the shamans and their new anti-arrow trick. It’d probably work on Bert’s corrosive Spray as well Fritz noted. He grimaced, knowing that he had to be the one to disrupt or even kill the shielded shamans while Bert held off the horde.

Activating his ring and sprinting through the mushroom stems, Fritz lost any remaining pursuers and circumnavigated the swarm. Within the minute he was behind the force assaulting his crew, weaving between the mushrooms, finding and killing the occasional fleeing or shirking warrior. They weren't difficult to dispatch when they were alone, but it did slow him down, taking up his precious time and energy. Eventually, he made his way to a cluster of shamans and the warriors protecting them. He counted three of the foul fetish and tattoo-covered monsters as two of them summoned and slung eldritch flame at his crew while one seemed to be concentrating on something, likely the wind shield.

Worriedly Fritz took stock of the battlefield. Sid seemed to be struggling, trying to keep as much distance as she could from the onrushing tide of grey-skins while also dodging bolts of eldritch flame. Gust would’ve been good here, Fritz thought anxiously. Bert however seemed to be revelling in the battle even as many more goblins appeared from the mushrooms and joined the fray from the sides. However well he was doing now Fritz could see Bert was taking cuts, was moving slower and being more conservative with his Abilities, he was getting tired. It was to be expected, Fritz was only running around and he was panting like a dog, the intense combat Bert was embroiled in had to be incredibly draining, even with his Endurance and Vitality as high as they were.

Knowing he had little time to turn the tides of battle, Fritz acted, sprinting to get behind the concentrating shaman. When got within three feet of the shaman a strong gust of wind blew over him from the side and nearly knocked him down but he pushed through the gale and found himself face to face with the goblin with a shocked look on its wrinkled features. Shock that was quickly replaced with fear. Fritz kept pushing forward, calling upon the shifting dark and plunging his shadowed fish blade into the shaman’s heart. Its face went slack as Fritz pulled his fish blade from its punctured chest.

Maybe because of fortune or maybe because of the chaos of battle or perhaps even because of Gloom Strike’s ability to shroud his attacks the other shamans and warriors didn’t notice him in their midst, yet. Fritz felt he only had one more use of an Ability, what with all the running, fighting and the previous casts. So saving his stamina he struck out at the back of a shaman's head without shadowing his blade, catching it unawares as it formed a bolt of blue-green flame above its palm. His blade sawed halfway through the goblin’s spine before it got stuck in the tight flesh of the creature's neck.

Yanking his sword free and swinging it in a wide arc at the last shaman’s back he cut through the it’s dangling charms and his blade’s serrated edge chewed into the tattooed, grey flesh of its back. The last of the spell-casters fell and unfortunately the warriors finally noticed Fritz whirling amongst them.

The six of them turned to face him. They swung, stabbed and chopped at him with their crystal blades. Fritz leapt back and they followed, surrounding him quickly. Caught and with no way out but forward, he grit his teeth and rushed while wreathing his fish blade with the roiling dark of Gloom Strike. He feinted by stepping to the right then stabbed suddenly at the warrior blocking his way. The goblin’s spark-like eyes struggled to keep focus on Fritz’s sword but it still attempted to parry the shadowed blade with its own crystal sword. The creature’s parry was a clumsy mess, likely due to Gloom Strike’s dampening effect. The fish blade sparked across the crystal and on reaching the goblin's throat, tore it out easily.

He ran past the creature as it clutched at its opened neck only to find a captain standing in his path and menacing him with brutal jabs of its glowing baton. Fritz was forced back lest he be hit with the obviously dangerous weapon and warriors closed in again from the sides and from behind.

Fritz looked into the captain's eyes and fear bubbled up in his gut. The captain and its retinue giggled at their cornered prey. A whistling note sang in Fritz’s ear and he smirked and let out his own chuckle at the goblin. It scowled and its grating giggling was cut off both from Fritz’s flippant attitude and from the sudden blossoming of an arrowhead out from its forehead accompanied with a spurting of dark green blood. The goblin fell and Fritz used to moment of surprise to lunge forward and thrust his fish blade into a warrior’s dark eye, bursting it with a squelch.

The other goblins of the captain's retinue backed up, stepping out of the reach of the deadly, glinting Quicksilver. They fearfully looked around for reinforcements or what would pass for leadership amongst their foul kind. Fritz could tell the warriors were close to fleeing, they glanced around at the corpses of their shamans and captains and they were unusually quiet. One more push, he thought as the fatigue from Stamina drain set in and his guarded stance began to wilt.

A warrior cautiously moved forward, raising its shield and stabbing at Fritz’s chest. He took a single step back from the blade letting it miss him by an inch, then retaliated by hacking off its hand at the wrist. Another goblin took its chance while he was preoccupied and leapt in with a savage barrage of slashes at his side. Fritz dodged the first and second strikes but the third wicked slash tore across his scale hide and over his infirm arm, jolting him painfully and cutting a long rent in his increasingly ragged armour. The goblin seeing Fritz’s pain pushed forward again with a stab, Fritz caught it on his fish blade and executed an almost perfect parry, accompanied with a darting riposte that cut through the creature’s hide vest and dug into its chest.

It collapsed while the one-handed goblin fled into the mushrooms, leaving behind a dark trail of blood.

Fritz felt there was a change in the air and Bert let out a mighty yell that could be heard even over the jabbering and screeching of the horde. He spotted the man in the centre of a ring of goblins and their kin’s corpses, Bert was covered in cuts bruises and his clothes were ripped and stained with blood, mostly dark green but some red patches were visible to Fritz’s exceptional eyes. Sid had also joined the melee, slashing this way and that with her fin sword and cracking down with a scavenged glowing baton in her other hand.

Bert grabbed the last of the captains by the sides of its head and even as it struck him with its baton he pulled its ugly face downward to meet his rising knee as it pulsed with near-invisible force. The goblin’s head split down the middle with a wet crack and burst, showering Bert and its retinue with dark green chunks. He let out another powerful yell and the workers broke, dropping their weapons and scrabbling away in mad terror. Only moments after the warriors who were watching followed suit, fleeing to save their misbegotten lives.

Bert pursued and Sid harried the goblin’s flanks but the grey-skinned monsters soon outpaced the tired Climbers. Fritz hid behind a mushroom stem as thick as his shoulders and contented himself by hacking, thrusting and slashing at any warriors that fled past his position. Soon the battle was done, with the last of the visibly remaining goblins falling to a quick thrust from Fritz’s fish blade.

He peeked past his tree to see Bert and Sid walking slowly to each other across the battlefield, he decided to join them leaving his cover and stepping on or over the fallen goblins that lay in his path.

At least one hundred short, thin bodies lay strewn across the terracotta-coloured stone, and none of them stirred, either they were dead or extremely good at playing dead. If any creature would be good at that it would be goblins, Fritz thought, keeping alert for any surprise attacks.

It was fortunate that he did so, as he felt something like an echo ring in his sanctum and a tingle up his arm. Fritz rolled to the side, jarring his shoulder and hearing a shrieking bolt of eldritch flame soar over him. He came up to his feet and spun on the now-kneeling shaman as it attempted to cast another bolt at him. It didn’t get the chance, Fritz threw his fish blade like someone would throw an axe, it spun vertically end over end until it hewed into the goblin’s shoulder, causing it to fall back to the floor, dropping its bolt of fire upon itself and screaming out a shrill curse as it was set aflame.

The shaman ignited, all its dangling charms providing no protection and only serving as more fuel for the eldritch fire. In a quick conflagration, the goblin was completely subsumed by its own destructive magic, only leaving behind a charred and warped skeleton lying across the fish blade.

That could’ve been me, Fritz thought as nausea wracked him and he broke into a cold sweat.

Fritz worried about his sword’s safety but could see the blade was unharmed, in fact, the blade seemed to pull the eerie flame in and around itself in waves whilst leaving it unmarred. Its opalescent core glittered unusually bright with twisting sparks of blue-green fire dancing within.

Fritz went to approach the still smouldering corpse but soon discovered a new fact about goblins and the smoke the produced. He had thought dead goblin was the worst thing he had ever smelt, but he was wrong. It turned out the only thing that smelled worse than a dead goblin was a burnt goblin. Fritz gagged on the rancid smog, backing away from the smoking, withering husk.

“Oh gods, what is that smell!” Bert cried, covering his mouth and nose with his hands.

“Just some especially crispy shaman,” Fritz choked out, staggering over to his crew and waiting for the air to clear.

“Bleh, I should’ve picked gust,” Sid said, spitting to the side and pulling her scarf up and over her face to protect her senses from the slowly wafting smoke.

“Maybe a Wind Strike would help?” Fritz suggested, eager to get his sword back from where it lay under the blackened skeleton.

“No mana, let me rest,” Sid replied. “Away from all this filth,” she amended, trudging towards the cavern entrance and away from the reeking battlefield.

Bert also made his way to the entrance and the clear caves beyond. Fritz with a forlorn glance to his fish blade then joined them with tired steps.

They sat in the tunnels past the entrance, but none of them ate. The goblin stink turned their stomachs and would have made even delicious food unappetising, and the veritable tons of roasted bear steak were closer to edible than delicious.

“Bert?” Fritz asked.

“Yes?” Bert said.

“When we asked you to lure over a captain and their squad into an ambush,” Fritz started. “Did you, perchance, take that to mean, lure hundreds of goblins into a pitched battle with your three-man Climber team?” He asked as if he were inquiring about the origin and blend of a delightful pot of tea.

“Hmm,” Bert hummed rubbing at a non-existent beard. “You didn’t say anything that said I couldn’t. I just asked myself, what would Fritz do?”

Fritz scowled for a moment then put his polite, bland expression back on his face, saying, “Quite right my friend, we didn’t say you couldn’t. And it’s a natural phenomenon that the dull seek to emulate their intellectual betters so I can’t fault you there either.”

Bert huffed at the slight to his intelligence, and Sid interjected, “I can fault him, even though we survived it was a bloody mess. I almost died.” She motioned to a scuffed patch on her breastplate just above her heart.

Bert grimaced, “Sorry, I must’ve got a little carried away.”

“A little carried away? Near on two hundred goblins, Bert! That’s more than a little carried away,” Fritz argued.

“Well, they’re dead now. And we got some of the magic goblins and a bunch of those baton-wielding guys,” Bert responded and crossed his arms defensively. “We’d have to kill them anyway. Just killing two birds with one stone, or twenty-ish goblin leaders with one ambush.”

Sid frowned and Fritz sighed heavily, he was right in a way but wrong in so many others. No use to argue, Fritz surmised, and in a resigned voice said, “Well what’s done is done, next time I’m the bait though.”

Bert begrudgingly agreed.

The rhythm of the blaring horns changed the long droning notes now a rapid, repeating burst of three high blasts.

“Sounds like a call to retreat,” Fritz guessed.

It seemed he had predicted correctly as when he looked towards the walls he saw the goblins rushing and gathering at its open gate. There was quite the unruly crowd forming, the workers jostled and bickered amongst each other and the warriors and captains were busy squashing fights as they broke out in the mayhem.

“Might make it harder to pick off the leaders,” Fritz observed. “It's chaos down there.”

“Maybe,” Sid hedged. “But if I can get a good vantage point we could use the chaos to pick off the captains.”

Fritz considered the idea and decided she was absolutely right.

“Ah, that’s a great plan Sid,” he proclaimed. “We’ll find you a place to set up, I can pick out the targets with my great Perception and you can kill them from afar.”

“What about me?” Bert asked.

“You’re on guard duty,” Fritz replied easily.

“Sounds boring,” Bert complained.

“We’ll have enough excitement when the riots start. Look they’re already at the edge, just a little push from Sid’s wind arrows and it’ll be an all-out war between the Chief and the workers,” Fritz espoused.

Bert grumbled but seemed to be heartened by the promise of another big fight on the horizon.

Pleased that they had a solid plan Fritz searched the brightly illuminated cavern for a high point from which Sid could loose her deadly arrows. He spotted something of an overhang, jutting from the wall about a twenty-minute walk from where they currently sat that he suspected was close enough to oversee the walls. There was no obvious way to get up to it but that was a problem for when they got there and if worse came to worse Fritz had Stone Pit to create handholds and a rope to catch on one of the overhang’s stony stalactites.

“Over there, see that cliff high up there?” said Fritz, pointing to a spot on the terracotta cave’s wall.

“Nope,” Bert said.

“No,” Sid stated, squinting.

To be expected, he supposed, his crew weren’t graced with enhanced senses.

“Well there is an overhang that would be big enough for us to stand on,” Fritz explained.

Bert stood, “What are we waiting for?”

“My fi- Quicksilver, and Sid’s mana,” Fritz said.

Not missing a beat, Bert strode to where the fish blade lay and plucked it from the charred remains of the shaman, coughing as ash blew into his face.

Fritz smiled at the sight.

Bert returned and handed Quicksilver to its rightful master, then went to put on his pack, when Sid said, “Hang on, I have to recharge my belt.”

“Me too, my ring I mean,” Fritz added, noticing that his sword still had blue-green embers dancing in its opaline core and becoming distracted for a moment. Wonder what that’s about, I’ll look it over later, he told himself.

Bert looked at his ragged and stained clothes, sighed and said, “I might as well fix my clothes as well.”

His vest and pants re-knit their rents and removed their stains, leaving Bert looking as smug as ever when he let out another sigh, this time of condescending contentment.

They touched their respective treasures to the golden heart leaving it smaller than ever, more than half of it was gone at this point and Fritz wondered how much they’d have left by the end of the Spire. Not much, he suspected. Pushing away those sour thoughts Fritz led them to the overhang, keeping an eye out for ambushes. He needn’t have bothered as the goblins seemed to have obeyed the order to retreat behind the questionable safety of the spiked, crystal walls.

He led them to the cliff’s base without much hassle. It was closer than he would have liked to the walls, but it seemed the only place that met the requirements for their strategy that wasn’t far too out of the range of Sid’s bow. Fritz found himself staring up at the cliff and its overhang fifty feet overhead, wondering about the best way to get up the rough rock. He thought he could pick out a route, using sparing casts of his Stone Pit Ability so he got to work, pulling on the light that made up the Power. He created a handhold then sat down panting, realising he was still bone tired from the last battle. He took some time to reflect.

He found that the Stone Pit Ability was becoming easier and easier to use, forming quicker in his mind and requiring less focus to aim. Fritz suspected it was probably due to his new familiarity and practise, but it may also be because he wasn’t in a life-and-death situation.

Well, he supposed he was still in deadly peril but this was a definite lull in the near-constant danger of the Spire. He decided to embrace the quiet and allow himself to relax a little as he recovered from casting his spell. His stomach gurgled and he grimaced, they had eaten only a couple of hours ago but it felt like he had been fasting all day.

“Anyone else weirdly hungry?” Fritz inquired, opening his pack and seizing some monster meat, he took a bite into it and was rewarded with a leathery flavour and a chalky aftertaste.

“Yeah,” Sid said, setting down her pack and pulling out a bear steak for herself. She grimaced as she chewed the tough flesh.

Bert joined in the impromptu meal. Grumbling about the terrible taste with the rest of them.

The food was revolting but refreshed him considerably, he suspected monster meat had qualities that helped restore Stamina but still, it took almost an hour to regain enough energy for another Stone Pit. “Wish we could eat gold,” Fritz bemoaned.

“You could use the last stamina potion, still got it, Sid?” Bert asked.

“I have it, but like the health potion, I don’t want to waste it. Still more danger ahead,” Sid stated resolutely.

“Last one?” Fritz said.

“Yeah, I used my one in the last battle, felt really tired, and the goblins seemed endless, like my paramours. Luckily they weren’t,” Bert said, his face lighting with his insufferable grin.

Fritz shook his head and Sid scoffed.

“Might as well just wait. Sid’s right, the potions should only be used in emergencies, though, I wish we still had the ones Jane ran off with,” Fritz said bitterly.

Bert’s grin faltered and Sid grunted in response.

They fell into a souring silence until Bert stood saying, “I’m gonna climb this wall with or without holds. Can't stand just sitting around stewing.”

“Be my guest, but take the rope with you, you can drop it down, it won't reach the whole way but it might make some of Sid’s climb easier,” Fritz suggested.

Bert began to climb, his extraordinary strength allowing him to scale the sheer surface with much less trouble than Fritz or Sid would have.

“How many times do you think he’ll fall before he quits?” Sid asked.

“He wont quit. The question should be: how many times do you think he’ll fall before he gets to the top?” Fritz responded confidently. “I bet less than four.”

“A gold triad?” Sid said with a smirk.

“Easily,” Fritz said, offering his hand to shake.

They grasped hands and Fritz was awkwardly aware of the feel of her skin against his own. Sid’s warm palm and fingers, so soft but hard with callouses. They firmed their grips holding on tightly for a moment, then a moment too long, then a moment too longer. Sid looked into Fritz’s eyes, they gazed at each other, then turned away, breaking their hands apart quickly.

Fritz stepped back and coughed. He turned to watch Bert’s progress up the cavern wall.

Sid turned to her pack and pretended to rummage through it for something. They made themselves busy doing nothing.

Bert fell twice, once from ten feet up, only spraining his ankle which healed up in ten minutes. Then again at thirty breaking his legs, his bones were fixed immediately by his Imbued Bones Trait but the torn muscles needed at least half an hour to heal enough for Bert to try for one final climb. Fritz wanted to reprimand the fool for his reckless behaviour but knew it wouldn’t do anything but distract them both. They always had that last health potion if Bert fell badly.

It wold be a waste but worth it.

“A worthwhile waste?” Fritz mused aloud.

Sid ignored him, engrossed as she was in ‘The Observations.’

It gave Fritz enough time to rest for another cast of Stone pit around where Bert had fallen from and allowed Bert to reach the overhang on his third try. He let out a yell of triumph and Fritz and Sid applauded, impressed that he had made it this time.

“Guess I owe you a triad,” Sid said, standing and preparing to climb.

“Always bet on Bert, he’s unreliably reliable,” Fritz espoused. “Also, good luck on the climb Sid,” He added earnestly with a smile.

Sid turned away, mumbling, “thanks.”

Bert tied off the dark rope around his waist and braced himself as he threw the rest of its length down.

Sid started to climb the terracotta stone, as the rope was only something like forty feet long, less since he cut some of its length for new shoelaces. She still had to climb about twenty feet, which to Fritz’s mind was still dangerous.

It turned out he didn’t have to worry, but he did. Sid deftly scaled the rock and seized on the hanging rope, hauling herself up while also being hauled up by Bert. She reached the top waved down with a tired smile and Fritz was up next.

Fritz started his climb, the dry rough rock was easy enough to keep a grip on, much easier than the slippery stone and wood of the buildings in Rain City. He was able to climb surely if not swiftly. He had the strangely soft rope in his hands within a couple of minutes and contented himself by holding on and being pulled up by Bert, who called down, “Fritz, you lazy sneak thief, don’t make me do all the work.”

“My spindle-itus is acting up!” Fritz whined dramatically.

Bert grunted and focused all his effort on pulling his idiot friend up. Fritz scrabbled over the stone edge, rolled over onto his back and let out a long breath of relief.

Sid gave him a soft dig in the ribs with her hard boot and crooked her head at the goblin fort.

“Fine, fine, I’ll spot the captains for you,” Fritz complained, rolling onto his belly and crawling to the lip closest to the goblin walls.

He peered over the cavern basin and searched the crystal walls, spotting a goblin in telltale dangling charms he pointed it out, “Shaman right there, see it?”

Sid squinted, “Sort of, can't make out much detail, Eagle Eye would’ve been great here.”

“Yeah, maybe, but you’d have no arrows,” Fritz replied.

“Not sure how good my aim will be from this far away,” Sid added in an unusually unconfident cadence.

“Bert and I have full faith in your abilities,” Fritz said cheerily. “Loose at will.”

Sid shrugged and bent her bow.