Spire's Spite

Fritz awoke, this wasn’t the worst way to wake. For one he was significantly warmer than he had been when he passed out. “Ah, is this paradise? It’s so warm and my aches are fading. Is this an avatar of the beautiful Goddess Alestria I see before me, was I worthy enough in death to enter her realm?” He asked the bright blue eyes of Sid looming over him.

Sid, for his part, looked startled, “I don’t know about no goddess, mate, you must be crazy. Seeing things are you?” He burst out in a voice gruffer and lower than his usual tone.

Fritz merely smirked, “My mistake, of course, how could I confuse the vicious “scarf hangman” Sid for anything but the thug he is?”

“Feelin’ better? I’ll be takin’ my blanket back then,” Sid said vindictively, stealing away one of the many oilcloths covering Fritz.

“No, I’m still freezing!” Fritz lied, trying to hold onto the oilcloth, scattering the others covering his form.

Sid tore the blanket away from Fritz’s grip and went to give him a gloating stare. Sid’s eyes went wide as he saw Fritz and he turned away, stalking off rapidly instead of continuing their exchange.

“Huh, why am I naked?” Fritz asked at his retreating back “Did you do this? Was this your price for the lending of the blanket? You pervert! And now you run from your crimes!? What of my dignity, and virtue, didn't Bert tell you of my virtue?! I told him to tell you all!” He called after Sid, a crazed grin spreading across Fritz’s face as he put on an absurd show of being outraged.

He didn’t know why Sid was so bothered but he’d use anything to get under his skin.

---

Sid ran from Fritz’s ridiculous accusations, winding his way through the green-marbled pillars that dotted the Door Room. Eventually, he found his way to the rest of the crew who were standing or sitting around and carving up the Quicksilver Swordfish. They had dragged it here for more space to do the butchering of the monstrous metallic fish.

“Fritz is up and he’s acting crazy,” Sid explained to them.

“Sounds like Fritz,” Toby replied drily as he was scraping the scaly skin from the strangely silver, pale, fish meat.

“Al, go deal with him, he’s your best friend,” Jane chided. “And your bag-brother.” She added while stacking the fillets of fish flesh in a wet pile.

“He’s always the worst when he wakes up, especially if he’s hurt,” Albert groused. “But fine, he is, after all, my bag-brother,” Albert said stoically.

Greg grunted, Jane smiled and Toby simply rolled his eyes.

“Sid, you’re strong come over here and help me snap these bones, they’re way tougher than normal fish bones, can’t just swallow these,” Greg asked laughing at his own joke. He was sweating as he wrestled with the fish’s rib cage and spine trying to pull them apart.

“Oi, where’s my fish!?” Fritz’s voice echoed off the pillars. “I call dibs on the blade!”

“Damn it!” Greg grunted as he finally separated a rib with a loud snap. “He can't just call dibs can he?” Greg complained.

“It sorta is his fish, we’ll talk about it when he gets here,” Albert said in a conciliatory tone.

“And when he’s dressed,” Sid added looking a little embarrassed.

“Ah, sorry you had to see that,” Albert apologised. “As I said, he’s the worst when he’s recovering.”

“It’s not that bad a sight,” Jane said a small smile on one side of her face. “What, don’t look at me like that Toby. I’m just telling it how it is,” She chided Toby when his face darkened at her comment.

Albert left them to their bickering, knowing he shouldn't leave Fritz alone for too long.

---

Fritz took another, more thorough, look at his situation, glancing around at the room filled with tree-sized pillars of that same green marble, it was as dense as a forest. The pillars reached and joined the ceiling and the floor and many had bars or ‘branches’ reaching out from their ‘trunks’. They were of a slightly more translucent form of the green crystal and the blue marbling looked almost like roots crawling up inside them.

The floor was surprisingly warm, Fritz ran his hand over the shiny sleek surface and felt as the blue marbling radiated its own subtle heat into the green crystal. The air that stirred between the pillars felt like a pleasantly dry breeze, something Fritz had never felt before, having never left the confines of Rain City or the Rain Spire’s demesne.

His fish was missing, he was naked and under five blankets of oil clothes, the whole crew’s. He felt a warmness in his chest at that. He hadn't feared that Bert would leave him behind but the others, well, it felt good to know they still stayed for him. Fritz also found his calf wound had been tended to while he was ‘dead’.

A greasy light yellow paste that smelled of bile and mint had been applied to the gash liberally and the gaping cut had been sewn together with some of that coarse twine. He poked the wound gingerly, there was a decided numbness to the wound where the grease-paste substance was slathered. Some kind of herbal remedy? But where did they get it? Fritz speculated.

Wait, his fish was missing, He thought again, catching the thought this time. Damn it! Better call dibs on the blade before someone nicks it, especially Toby, and double especially Greg!

“Oi, where’s my fish!?” Fritz yelled, he hoped in the right direction of the fish thieves. “I call dibs on the blade!”

Fritz smiled malevolently to himself when he heard Greg grunt something he couldn't quite hear.

He gave a mental shrug one way or another he would get his prize. Not important right now, what is important right now are clothes, no more nakedness for now I think, no matter how much it seemed to shock Sid. Serves him right for looming over me like that though, hope he’s not also after my fish blade, Fritz mused uncharitably.

Fritz spotted his clothes, seemingly dry from that welcome hot breeze, hanging from one of the pillar’s weird green branches.

He decided to walk to them on his injured right leg, to test out how bad he’d be slowed down, and found it surprisingly less painful than he’d imagined it would be. However, there was a sharp twinge deep in the wound when he put weight on that leg.

Nothing Fritz couldn't handle, he’d suffered much worse than this before. He hobbled, staggered then once he gained his balance Fritz strode toward the pillar that held his clothes for him.

He took down his cream-coloured linen shirt and threw it on. He looked at his grey almost black woollen pants, the rent in his pants had been mended by that same deft hand that closed his wound. He smiled at that kindness and attempted to pull them on along with his thankfully unsoiled silken undergarments.

“Never would have heard the end of that,” He said out loud to himself, as he slipped on the comparatively luxuriously smooth and cool lavender fabric, embroidered with a crest depicting a white ship on its left side.

“Never would have heard the end of what?” Bert inquired as he poked out his golden-haired head from behind the pillar.

Fritz startled, put too much weight on his hurt leg and winced from a deep pulse of pain.

“Ouch, did you have to sneak up on me, I’m injured you know, and you haven’t even prepared any Sickman’s Soup for me,” Fritz complained as he hitched up his trousers and buttoned them tightly.

“Sorry, all out out of the secret ingredient,” Bert apologised insincerely.

“I thought the secret ingredient was love, are you saying you’re all out of love for me?” Fritz asked in mock hurt.

“You know the secret ingredient is drowned rat, no rats in here and no water to drown ‘em. No living things here at all, well save for us,” Bert informed Fritz seriously but with a smile on his rugged features.

“The others? How many made it?” Fritz asked dropping his voice and his mocking tones.

Bert looked grim at the question and answered darkly “Of our crew? We all made it in. Of all of us? I counted twenty-one, including you and me.”

“Nine didn’t make it?” Fritz asked a little shaken. He hadn’t known the others well but still, he had known them at least in passing.

Bert nodded morosely “Yeah some of Steve's crew, and a few of the girls.”

“Seems a waste,” Fritz said sombrely. “All of them just drowned or fish food.”

Bert nodded again then stretched his shoulders in a shrug, “Steve’s Group went in as nine, grabbed some of the people who didn’t have a crew to replace those who didn’t make it. Veronica, you know the redhead who works at Tallies Trawler? Pretty, brown eyes. Well, she and her friend Lynn gathered the other girls and set off together. Six of them. No stragglers, save us. Now you’re caught up let's go join the group, you’ve got a Door to choose,” Bert said, moving the conversation on to something more actionable with a serious look on his face.

Bert picked up the oilcloth blankets Fritz had left scattered then handed Fritz’s one to him. Fritz could tell it was his on account of the gaping hole in its centre and some gashes in its fibres from those sharp fins.

Bert motioned to Fritz then led the way towards the catch and the crew. Fritz followed him with a slight limp inspecting the damage done to his oil cloth and thinking on ways to salvage any use from its tattered remains.

They made their way to the crew, weaving their way through the copious pillars in a companionable silence, each occupied by their own thoughts.

When they came upon his crew Fritz could see that they were expertly stripping the fish of anything of value. Anyone who grew up hungry in Rain City knew how to clean a fish, and they had grown up very hungry.

Jane was stacking fillets of the oddly glittery fish flesh into small piles. Toby was busy cutting sections of scaled skin into different sizes, while Greg and Sid were busy tearing apart the creature's sleek skeleton. Bert walked to Toby’s area and deposited the oil cloths beside him to which Toby grunted in thanks.

“My what a good job you’ve all done processing my catch,” Fritz exclaimed when he was close to the Swordfish's head blade. “Wonderful. Oh and Jane thanks for patching me and my pants up, your needlework is impeccable, it's keeping me well stitched together. And here I was thinking Toby was just exaggerating how good your sew jobs were, at least that's what I think he was saying,” Fritz smiled innocently as Toby’s eyes turned on him in a glare, Greg guffawed and Jane rolled her eyes.

“Is that how you thank someone for sewing you up Fritz, next time I’ll sew your lips together too so we don't have to deal with your post-hurt absurdity,” Jane retorted shaking her head dismissively.

“You’re right I’m sorry,” Fritz said soberly “Thanks Jane,” He flashed her one of his more dashing smiles and looked over the remains of the fish. “What are the plans for the fish parts, except the blade that is, for which I have invoked the sacred right of dibs,” Fritz questioned.

Bert spoke up for the crew “Well for starters we’re gonna turn all these scaly skins into some armour, sew them onto the oilcloth and other pieces of clothing. The scales are pretty tough, almost as tough as iron, so it’s the next best thing to armour we can use. They were gonna make some bags or sacks to carry all this monster meat, we won't be going hungry any time soon if we can cook up this fish meat. We should be able to find some wood on one of the floors.”

“Plus I’ve heard monster meat is good for you. Makes you stronger, tougher and heal quicker,” Greg added enthusiastically to Bert’s explanation.

“It’s high in mana density, so it does do those things to a limit. I read it won't take you above the ‘leveless human limit’, whatever that is. So you still need to climb Spires to get strong,” Sid commented unexpectedly.

“You can read!?” Fritz cried out incredulously. “What do you read Sid, shop signs, statue plaques, sordid love letters that you steal from unsuspecting couples?”

“I do read. Books, scrolls, you name it I read it,” Sid said challenging Fritz with a glare that threatened his strangulation.

“Sid the scarlet scarfed scourge, studies scrolls?” Fritz alliterated astoundedly and annoyingly.

“Yes, I do. Got a problem with that, Fritz,” Sid asked angrily.

“Not really, just surprised is all, we must be the most literate team in the entire Sunken Ring, a full six out of six readers, one and all,” Fritz replied. “Anyway, what are we doing with the fish skeleton then?”

“Breaking it to pieces,” Greg grunted “Whats it looks like?” Fritz could see the man had fashioned what looked like scaled oven mitts to cover his hands while he pulled and twisted at the sleek silver nose blade some more. With the help of Sid with a set of similar scale mitts, a monumental heaving and a bit of clever levering the blade snapped free of the skull with a loud crack.

“Hah. It’s free,” shouted Greg picking it up and tossing it at Fritz’s feet. It skittered along the green marble coming to a stop at Fritz’s boots.

“There you go lord fish-slayer, caller of dibs. Your trophy awaits,” said Bert patting Fritz on the shoulder.

“Finally you all recognise my greatness and offer me well-deserved praise for the mighty deeds I perform,” Fritz aggrandised.

“Yes, yes, I would bow oh great Fritz fish-whisperer but I’m kinda busy, you know, working on this armour,” Toby replied drily.

Fritz crouched to pick it up, but when he realised the whole blade was edged he stopped, his hand mere inches away from another ugly cut. Now that he wasn’t dodging the damn thing he took a better look at the blade.

The blade was a hair shy of three feet long and was a shimmering sliver with a core of what looked like pearl in its glittering opalescence. Its edge was a more metallic affair entirely and looked to be clean and straight at first glance, but when inspected closely Fritz could see it had small serrations and tiny fang-like hooks running along it.

Nasty, Fritz thought to himself, glad I didn’t get cut by this, it looks like a wound from this would heal slowly, bleed badly and leave a horrific scar. If you survived, he grimaced.

Fritz put down the oil cloth he had been carrying and begged a knife off Bert who happily lent it to him. Fritz cut a long strip of the cloth and began wrapping it around the base of the blade. It took a couple of strips all tightly wrapped, bound and knotted before he made any attempt to pick it up or swing it.

By the time he was done wrapping he had gone through a third of his oil cloth, well at least it was the more mangled bits I used up, he rationalised.

When he did have the courage to wield the weapon and was sure the edge wouldn't just cut through the makeshift grip, he grasped the oil cloth hilt and lifted the bade in a duellist's stance. One his father had drilled into him when he was young. He knew his stance was shoddy and unpractised, but he did his best to recollect the thrusts, slices and footwork he had been taught.

He shook his head free of those memories quickly, they were beginning to bring the terrible melancholy and he didn’t want the crew to see him weeping. Especially if they thought it was over a fish blade.

He gave it a couple of tentative swings and thrusts to make sure the grip wouldn’t fail and found it surprisingly heavy, definitely more so that of a leveless’s steel rapier. Fritz swung and lunged putting the weapon and his own unpolished technique through its paces. The grip held firm for now and he found it was by no means sturdy, safe or elegant, but it was usable.

He expected the blade to be bone hard and rigid to boot, its opalescent centre and fine jagged edge however were not nearly as brittle as they looked and bent with a surprising flexibility. Fritz sped up the cuts and thrusts he performed, they whistled through the dry air and he began to get a feel for its heft, speed and reach.

He ended the performance with a quick three-cut-flourish with a wide grin on his face, this blade will do very nicely he mused.

“Truly this blade will become a trusted weapon, a symbol of my great skill at arms and my innate chivalric poise,” Fritz monologued, caught up in a moment of excitement for his new weapon.

“Yeah. The great Fish Blade,” Bert teased.

“Fish blade? That’s a terrible name. It needs a distinguished, elegant name I shall dub it, Quicksilver,” Fritz pronounced regally.

“Whatever, can you stop playing around and help?” Toby asked annoyed, obviously jealous of Fritz’s fish blade.

“Okay, what can I do?” Fritz asked offhandedly, laying his blade Quicksilver safely on the marbled ground.

“Come help sew some armour, there's not much scale skin left but we should all get some bracers, and two of us get scale shirts,” Jane invited Fritz to come kneel by her him patting the floor beside her.

“Very well, what are we using to sew, more fish bone?” Fritz questioned absently.

“Nah, I smuggled some needles in when we were captured, which was lucky for you otherwise I don't think we could’ve sewed you up in time, though that grease paste stuff helped I suppose,” Jane explained offhandedly.

“Grease paste? Where did that come from?” Fritz asked intrigued. “It seems to have done a good job as I’m walking around and can barely feel any pain.”

“Those little tins in the gear bags, we wouldn’t have thought of them but your one was in your pocket and leaking the stuff all over your thigh. The tin had been dented and mangled, much like your pants and you, I guess. So I thought why not, it smells like a healer's gross remedy might, let's smear it all over him.” Jane added, a sly grin on her face.

“Not all over me?” Fritz protested a little shocked.

“Who do you think got those pants off and sewed you up, I could have smeared it anywhere,” Jane said with a mischievous light in her eyes.

“Toby! Jane is trying to poach me, help!” Fritz cried out at Toby’s position.

“Jane, leave Fritz alone, you know he’s girl-shy and prone to mishear things,” Bert said interrupting any argument that might have broken out.

“Anyway, about these scale shirts,” Bert continued through Fritz’s scowl. “Two of them, let's put them on Fritz and Greg as they’ll be in the front line, everyone else gets the braces and some of these fish ones. The ribs look like they’ll make serviceable spears, the spine and skull is riddled with tough tendons and seems like it’ll make a decent flail, and the fins are great daggers or short swords.”

“I want the skull-spine,” demanded Greg with his large hands on his hips.

“Give me some fin daggers,” Toby exclaimed, always happy to get his hands on some more knives.

“I’ll go with some spears, I can just throw them or poke things from a distance,” Jane added obviously not keen on the idea of getting close to any monsters.

“I’ll grab the top fin as a short sword, and one of those mitts as a sort of shield, Sid what do you want?” Bert asked. They all turned to Sid.

“Well I have a sling I was able to smuggle in my boot, I’m sure I can find some stones for it on the first floor. So I’ll take one of the fins, maybe a spear and the bracers if that's okay?” Sid asked cautiously.

“Of course it's okay, you’re climbing with us, you’re part of the team now. We got your back you get ours, that’s the deal,” Fritz claimed in an overly friendly tone.

“Yeah, Sure,” Sid said suspiciously, as if he didn't believe Fritz fully.

They busied themselves amongst the fish's remains and equipped themselves with their chosen parts and newly crafted makeshift armour. Well, that is until Fritz refused to don the scale shirt afforded to him.

“No, put it on Bert, I’ve got Quicksilver and you’ve got that piddly little blade, you’ll need all the armour you can get if a monster gets to you,” Fritz argued.

“It might be a puzzle, trap or obstacle room for all we know, plus Fritz you’re always the one getting hurt,” Bert reminded him.

“I’d feel better with you wearing it, I call a crew vote on putting the scale shirt on Bert all who agree say ‘Shirt the Bert’,” Fritz commanded.

There was then a torrent of voices saying “Shirt the Bert”, even Sid joined in and called out the silly phrase. Fritz grinned as he handed the scale shirt to Bert and said in a level tone that brooked no argument, “Shirt the Bert.”

Bert sighed but knew he had already lost this particular battle, he took the armour and pulled it over his head and onto his body. The shirt hung off his wide shoulders glittered around his torso and back giving some modicum of protection.

“Looking good Bert,” Toby smirked.

They were all equipped and ready to go, all of them wore bracers of oilcloth covered with silver scales and had bags fashioned of the remaining oilcloth or spare clothing to carry the abundant fish meat. Some had slung the bags over a shoulder, some had their bags tied around their belts, each carried theirs how they liked it.

Greg was armoured and slung the spine-skull flail over his shoulders. It was an intimidating weapon, much to Greg's joy. It had a heavy fish skull at one end and the spine had the ribs snapped away leaving jagged shards of bone jutting out of it and it still had a surprising amount of heft and elasticity.

Jane was holding the longest of the fish ribs as a spear and had fashioned a sort of quiver for a bunch of smaller ribs to sit in.

Toby had a similar quiver of fish ribs but also had his belt full of iron knives and many of the fin blades.

Bert had the top fin which was about a foot and a half long and made a decent short sword. He was also armoured up, even more so than Greg, and his scale mitt that had been wrapped multiple times with both scale and oilcloth until it almost resembled a shield, almost.

Sid had a fin dagger and his trusty sling tucked into his belt for easy access. He held a rib spear in each hand ‘just in case one breaks.’

And Fritz, well Fritz had his deadly fish blade, no, Quicksilver, those selfsame scale bracers and tucked away in his bags were the Quicksilver Swordfish's cloudy quartz eyes wrapped in some spare waxpaper.

We really look like a crew Fritz marvelled silently, a crew of savages but a crew nonetheless.

They stood in front of the three Doors. They were all great twelve-foot-tall archways of different materials and styles.

The leftmost Door looked like a living tree grown in the shape of a doorway, the stairs were formed of roots, unworked stone and dirt and led up into cool darkness.

The middle Door looked like a cave entrance of natural stone that led into a dark tunnel that had a subtle red glow.

The last and rightmost Door was made of stone brick and had a shimmering portal of light rather than a tunnel or stairs.

They checked their gear one more time at Bert’s insistence then Bert turned to Fritz and asked, “Which Door?”

“Wait we’re letting Fritz pick the door? He’ll get us killed for sure,” Greg grumbled.

“Yeah we’re letting him pick, it’s a Guide thing,” Bert said in a reassuring tone.

“A Guide thing?” Toby questioned darkly.

“Thought you said you didn’t know anything about Guide Secrets,” Sid accused.

“I lied,” Fritz proclaimed with a false smile of confidence painted across his face.

“Some Abilities have prerequisites. Some need you to be proficient enough in your Abilities or have synergistic Abilities to evolve or unlock, some might just need you to do something or find something in a Spire. Such prerequisites can be hidden knowledge especially Guide Abilities as the Guides guild makes a fortune on leasing Guide contracts. Some are common knowledge like guard or soldier path prerequisites,” Fritz shrugged during his explanation.

“And some Spires give out certain traits more than others due to their alignment,” Sid added sagely.

“This one is probably aligned to water and metal, which is an offshoot or evolution of stone. Considering the monsters that were around it and its location underwater.”

“What about that light at the top,” Jane asked interested.

“I don’t know, weird light maybe? Not everything is known about the Spires, precious little really and those with the knowledge don’t go yelling about it,” Sid replied bitterly.

“Anyway,” Fritz interrupted. “I know the prerequisite to a certain Ability that I want, and I’d ask you to all keep it secret if you could. Because if the Guides Guild found out I knew what little I know they’d kill me then kill you all for good measure to make sure it doesn't get out,” Fritz told them flippantly.

Jane gulped, Toby glared darkly but Greg and Bert looked indifferent.

Sid however had wide eyes and hissed at Fritz, “What the Abyss Fritz, why did you tell me this, I don't wanna get killed for your secret.”

“Hey, you’re part of the team now, and I trust my team,” Fritz smiled back at him with an infuriating smile and gave him a playful wink. “This Door! Let's get to it team!”

He didn't really know where each door went or what was behind it, no one could, but one of the prerequisites for a Guide Ability needed him to choose the Doors they would use, another he knew would need him to find a hidden Door. But they were rare and never in the Door rooms, you’d have to find them on the floor themselves, I’ll have to remember to keep an eye out for that.

Fritz strode towards the Tree Door trying not to let his fear and anxiety show. Gripping his fish blade tightly, he walked up the loamy stairs. He hoped the others would follow quickly because he wasn’t at all sure of his choice.

Fritz prayed his decision didn’t kill them on the very first Floor.