Spire's Spite

There was a sharp intake of breath, a ragged cough and a croak of, “Stop crying,” left Sid’s bloody lips. Fritz blearily wiped the tears from his stinging eyes, blubbering out something incomprehensible even to himself. But he suspected the emotions he was trying to convey did reach her, on some level.

Sid smiled on one side of her face, or at least tried to, it quickly turned to a wince then a grimace. She looked down at the ruin of her breastplate, her eyes going wide at the gaping holes and collapsed metal.

“Hound got me good,” Sid said as she struggled against the armour compressing her chest and confining her breathing.

“Hound got you bad alright,” Bert corrected hoarsely as Fritz took a moment to gather his wits, or what was left of them.

“Where’d the Hound go? Did you kill it?” Sid asked as she fiddled with the breastplate’s broken clasps.

“It ran,” Fritz spat, “Like the cowardly cur it is. I expect it’s waiting up there in ambush,” He added motioning up the hill to the slab of green marble and the long shadow it cast.

“Damn it to the Abyss,” Sid said frustrated at both the answer and the breastplate as it stubbornly refused to come off.

“Bloody dog,” Bert agreed. “Threw me around like a doll.”

“Got me pretty bad too. Not as bad as you two, but still, ouch,” Fritz commiserated.

“Where’d all the weird fire come from? Did you secretly get an Ability from the faeries or something? Cheater,” Bert groused.

“No, it was in Quicksilver, it was almost like activating a Treasure. Never heard of such a thing before, but it happened. Here let me help you,” Fritz offered as Sid kept struggling with her armour.

He waited for her to nod before he reached out to help with the warped clasps. With a small amount of straining they were able to pry the breastplate open, freeing Sid’s chest from its twisted embrace.

She slipped out of the armour gingerly, while Fritz looked pointedly away from the rent in her shirt and the scarred remains of a wound on her chest. It was too much skin for him to see in his delicate condition. His head swam, and joy at Sid’s miraculous survival fluttered in his chest, he nearly leaned in to press her to him and embrace her, but was stopped by a numbing flare of cold over his chest and back. That and a mote of good sense still burned in his brain.

Sid seemed to notice his determination not to look at her and soon saw why when she looked down. She reddened slightly but instead of letting out a squeak or squeal like Fritz expected she instead exhaled a wearied sigh as if too tired to care. She turned her cloaked back to him and, covered as she was, removed her bloody, torn, blue shirt and began to roughly mend it with needle and thread from her pack.

To give the lady some modicum of privacy Fritz also turned, aching all over, and looked down to see his own ragged condition. A cut right through his makeshift scales and the previously red line across his skin had blackened. The Great Hound’s venom had taken root even through such a shallow gash. Shuddering then ignoring his own, relatively minor, injuries he checked Bert next.

Bert gave him a tired thumbs up from where he lay spreadeagled on the cold ground. While his bites were many, they were no longer bleeding and the black venom didn’t seem to spread far from his wounds. In fact, the darkness in his veins seemed to be receding, slowly, but still noticeably shrinking. Still, he groaned, then requested, “Bring my pack to me, gotta refill my necklace. Pretty sure it saved me.”

Fritz nodded, and as the most capable he stood and retrieved the pack, hauling it to his fallen friend while making sure to keep an eye out for any danger. He spotted no lurking hounds, but saw his dagger on the way and picked it up as he walked. The pack was heavy but not as heavy as Bert complained it was, maybe it’s because they had been steadily using up the golden heart or maybe Bert was just a lazy lout. Fritz decided to believe the latter and told Bert so.

“It’s ‘cause we used up the gold,” Bert protested. “It was three, no, nine times as heavy before.”

“Sure it was, my mule of a companion,” Fritz agreed blandly, opening the pack and letting the heart roll out into Bert’s reach. He touched his amulet to the gold, its gem glowing again with faint yellow light and the heart shrinking even more.

“Do you think we’ll have any left by the time we get out?” Fritz mused as he set his dagger to and ring to the too quickly shrinking fortune.

“Not likely,” Sid stated unlooping then adding her belt to the mix, before taking it back and rapidly re-buckling it around her slim waist once it was full.

Fritz glanced up at her, her shirt still bloody and torn but the major holes were fixed closed. He breathed a sigh of relief then Sid said, “Shirt off. I’ll mend that too.”

“You don’t have to, its likely to be torn through again. Wouldn’t want to waste your time,” Fritz objected politely, fully intent on letting her patch up his clothes but pretending to be gracious.

“Have it your way,” Sid agreed.

Thwarted by his own performance, Fritz asked, “How are you holding up? I thought you were dead for a moment there.”

“I’ve been better, my ribs ache and my ankle is still sprained. But after seeing what's left of my breastplate I’m not sure if I should be complaining,” Sid said.

“You will be when I tell you I had to use the last potion,” Fritz said.

Sid waved the comment off, saying, “You did right, Fritz, I owe you one.”

“No counting favours between friends,” Fritz espoused with a self-satisfied smile.

Sid smiled at that, then Bert broke into their conversation with a loud cough, “What do we do now?”

Fritz’s smile faded and Sid answered for him, “We hunt down that bloody beast and kill it, then cut it up for monster parts.”

“How are we gonna do that?” Bert asked. “I didn’t even see its claw coming. With all this venom in me, I’m too sluggish and slow to pose a threat to that thing. It’s tiring just to talk.”

“We have a limit to how long we can stay, with both the moon falling and Fritz’s cut,” Sid explained. “The sooner we’re moving, the better.”

They both turned their gazes to Fritz as if expecting some great heroics as if there were a cunning plan or a miracle he could conjure up to save them all. He was about to berate them and tell them there wasn’t a chance at victory but the looks in their eyes stopped him. They both believed in him, even if they teased and taunted, there was trust and a surety in their minds that he could lead them through anything. That he would be a peerless Guide.

Bert of course had trusted him for years, but Fritz didn’t know when exactly Sid had started trusting him so heavily as well. Perhaps it was just now after saving her life, or maybe it was before and he was too preoccupied with his own feelings to notice.

“I’m going to have to fight it,” Fritz said seriously, all pretence dropped.

“Not alone,” Bert argued.

“Not alone,” Fritz agreed. “Never alone,” He added with a bittersweet smile. “But you two will have to stay out of it. You’ll be support, striking where and when I call for it.”

He expected a token amount of protest from Bert but he was silent, seemingly both of the crew were glad he was taking command of the team. Sid nodded gravely, but could almost feel her place, no, he could feel her place her trust in him. It was an odd ineffable impression and he supposed it was his Awareness that let him sense what was hidden behind Sid’s rough demeanour. Or maybe it wasn’t as complicated as all that, maybe they were just closer than ever.

Fritz flexed his burnt palm. He tore a patch off his shirt, wet it and wrapped it over the line of blistered, melted flesh. He hissed, then strode to retrieve Quicksilver from where it still stood, stabbed into the cold dirt. It looked different, changed or tortured by the fire it spewed forth.

Wrapping the hilt again with more strips of his shirt then pulling the blade free Fritz wondered at the transformation wrought by the weird warping flame.

Quicksilver would need a new name, Fritz supposed. The edge and blade had been scorched a glossy black, its tiny hooks and teeth somewhat smoother and smaller but still jagged, still saw-like. The opaline core remained silvery with those flecks of prismatic colour, but a blue-green crack ran down its centre, branching down from the hilt almost like a tree, and vaguely like a willow. It hadn't seemed to have weakened the blade any, if anything, it felt sturdier, sharper and far more dense as if tempered by the eldritch flame.

Or maybe it didn’t need a new name, even if it was no longer really silver, save for the line of its core, he had grown fond of Quicksilver and what would his foes care if his blade’s name was accurate?

A good way to confuse your enemy too, Fritz thought absently. I should probably get around to naming the dagger, lest Bert name it something stupid, like Bert’s bane.

Musing while he walked he approached Sid and still lost in his inner world said, “Sid, take off your belt.”

“So bold, Fritz. Who knew you had it in you?” Bert said, then whistled as if in appreciation of his bravery.

Sid looked at Fritz aghast, reddening then once her surprise wore off she glared and growled out “What!?”

“Not like that!” Fritz spluttered stupidly, “I need it to fight the Hound. The boon might save my life.”

“Then ask like a normal person don’t go telling ladies to take off their belts,” Sid spluttered, her flushed expression returning, dampened into flustered frustration rather than her full fury.

“I thought you weren’t a lady,” Bert added grinning, seemingly enjoying the situation.

“You know what I mean,” Sid snapped.

“Sorry, Sid. Had something else on my mind. Wasn’t thinking,” Fritz said sincerely.

“Fine,” Sid said, spitting some worryingly bloody spit to the side and slipping her belt off. She must have seen his concern because she added, “I’ll be better once we get to to Well room. Here take it.”

Sid held out the belt to Fritz and he took it gratefully, securing his pants with the snug-fitting Treasure. He ran his thumb over the white scales appreciating their slick smoothness.

“Exquisite,” He murmured.

“Don’t get eaten. I don’t want to lose all the Treasures we found in here,” Sid said as she looked over the twisted remains of her breastplate and sighed.

“We can get it repaired,” Fritz said.

“Yeah, maybe,” Sid said resigned.

Fritz swished his changed blade through the air just to get a feel for its new form. It wasn’t exactly heavier but it did feel more weighty as it cut through the wind with a whistle that bordered on a wail.

“Want to take my necklace?” Bert asked.

“I would if you didn’t need it to fight off all that venom in your blood,” Fritz said.

Bert grimaced but nodded his agreement as one of the green gemstones in his amulet flashed a pale yellow and surrounded him in an aura of that same light which rapidly sank into his skin.

“One last refill?” Bert suggested.

“Will the big Hound let us?” Sid asked.

“I think it’s biding its time for now. It would’ve attacked already if it was going to stop us from regrouping and recuperating. It's obviously waiting to ambush us in the dark under the stairway’s slab,” Fritz theorised.

“What stops us from taking a rest and recovering fully-” Bert began before he was cut off by the howls of the blight hounds, and the moon’s echoing answer. The shining silver sky fell further, getting ever closer and it showed no signs of stopping.

“Because the moon is falling in truth now,” Fritz said in a daze “It’s almost here, almost reunited, it won't be alone any longer,” he intoned with a note of hazy prophecy.

“Why now?” Sid spat. “We’re so close.”

Fritz shook his head, “A curse? A test? Maybe it has nothing to do with us at all? Who knows? This world was on the brink when we arrived, we only ever had so much time,” Fritz surmised, almost as if talking to himself as he stared up into the flawless metallic moonscape and was transfixed by its immensity.

He was pulled from his reverie when Sid pressed the last bit of the golden heart at him, thumping him in the chest and causing a cold ache to throb from his wound.

Taking what remained of the gold and struggling with its weight, he refilled his Treasures, and even tentatively tried it on Quicksilver, in case it had somehow become imbued. He had heard of it happening, normal or weapons made of exotic materials becoming Treasures in their own right, but the details of such ascensions were secrets or just pure fantastical rumour. There was no reaction to and Fritz sighed, it had been too much to ask for, especially after its malevolently miraculous stream of flame.

Gold flaked away until what was left was no bigger than his clenched fist. Straining he placed the still heavy heart back into Bert’s pack. He motioned to his crew and they stood painfully and shouldered their packs, Fritz went to pick up his own but Bert waved him off shouldering both their burdens.

“Least I can do, won't be much use in a fight,” Bert explained shakily.

Fritz thought to argue but seeing the determination on Bert’s face dissuaded him of the notion. They spoke quietly, forming the bare bones of a plan, it wasn’t a brilliant strategy by any means but they had something to work with. Unfortunately, it seemed that most of Fritz’s Abilities save his Danger Sense and Gloom Strike would be fairly useless in a fight with the Hound. What with it being obviously aligned to shadow, likely able to see through his illusion and having too many legs to trip easily with Stone Pit. But he made his plans anyway preparing to meet fang and claw with metal and bone.

Fritz steadied himself, mind and body, focused his control and will on the task ahead. He strode up the grey slope of the hill and gradually felt the moon’s weight fall heavier upon his shoulders. He was glad the other two couldn’t feel the oppressive pressure as keenly. He wouldn’t let it stop him, not the Moon, not the Hound, nothing would stop him from ascending to the pinnacle with his crew. He swore it silently to himself as he approached the shadow of the green slab that housed the last Stairway.

Fritz stood by the dark threshold scanning the shadows for any sign of the Great Hound but was found wanting, even with his powerful perception. His Awareness was only slightly more use, warning that the black beast was definitely here, lurking invisibly, ready to pounce if Fritz showed any weakness.

Activating both his ring and the belt of the moon serpent Fritz stepped into the darkness, hunting for his hidden foe. The near-invisible field covered his body and he felt his movements become easier, smoother, more reactive while the belt’s scales gleamed a soft white. The Aspect of the Serpent’s effects didn’t just apply to his body, Fritz noticed. It was as if the world had slowed down minutely while his mind and body moved at the same speed, it was a slight thing but he knew it’d make all the difference in this fight. Every moment would count against the Hound.

As if on cue Fritz felt the premonition of his stomach being split by a cold, curved claw. He slipped past the Beast's paw as it slashed out of the shadow, the motion was smooth, skilful, and dodging it was far beyond his normal limits. Lashing out at the suddenly striking leg with Quicksilver, Fritz cut away a patch of fur and repelled the attack but his blade’s edge caught and was stopped by the Hound’s too tough hide. He rapidly pulled back on his blackened sword and swung it between him and fast closing jaws. His blade met a shining silver fang with a screech and a spattering of blue sparks.

Moving with the strength of the bite Fritz went into a controlled spin, letting the Hound’s head rush past him. He wreathed his bone dagger in the dancing shadows of Gloom Strike and called the bitter curse from the dagger’s depths. Fritz stabbed the curved point into the black fur as it brushed past, using the Beast's own terrible speed against it and burying the blade between its ribs.

He didn’t bother to try and hold on to the dagger as it was wrenched from his grip and he predicted a kick, easily dodging the strike from the Hound’s back leg as it sprinted past. It was a black blur, barely able to be seen in the dark of the slab’s shadow and Fritz saw it barrel towards Bert.

“Bert, Acid!” Fritz yelled. His voice sounding slowly in his ears.

Bert only had a moment's warning but it was enough as he lifted his palm and showered the area in front of himself just as they planned. The Hound swerved changing targets almost instantly and darting away from the spray of misting liquid before it could melt its hide.

Sid seemed to have already noticed the beast change direction and was holding forth her Treasure, the gaudy golden ring of the Goblin chief.

“Sit!” Sid ordered, a grey pulse emitted from the Treasure and into the silver sky where the command was scattered, magnified then rained down upon the hill in waves.

The compulsion washed over the Hound causing it to stagger, stiffen and slow, but not stop, within a moment it sped right back up and Sid rolled out of its path at the very last second while an arrow glanced off its fur. Fritz cursed, they had hoped the ring would be able to stall the creature for longer. Long enough at least for them to get in some clean attacks, but it seemed this monster was far too powerful to be bound by the Ability.

Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said for Bert as he promptly sat cross-legged on the ground. Sid, thankfully, seemed to be immune to her own Treasure’s effects.

As the Hound’s attack was thwarted it retreated back into the slab’s shade. Its fur roiled with tendrils of shadow and faded away into the darkness, disappearing before Fritz’s very eyes. He stretched his senses to the limit, Focusing every ounce of his Awareness on a patch of slightly distorted shadow he thought he could see. It moved, gradually, stealthily not making a sound or disturbing the loose soil it skulked over with its huge paws.

Fritz smirked, he could see it. He pretended not to, instead he turned his head this way and that as if fearfully looking for its ambush. He didn’t have to fake the fear entirely but he always kept the dark distortion in his peripheral vision. The silence rang in his ears, sweat beaded and dripped from his brow as he held Quicksilver poised to thrust forward.

When the Hound leapt he was ready.

He felt it first through his Danger Sense, his quick vicious death, fangs tearing through his neck. Then he saw the distortion surge and the Beast bounded out of its invisibility to bite out this throat. Fritz moved as it did, though he was slower far slower than the Hound he could read its attacks before it made them, closing some of the distance between their difference in Power. His blackened sword came up in a rapid thrust, just where the Beast’s burn-scarred head was going to be. Its eyes pulsed and pulled in the light, its entire body seemed to fade, straddling the line between seen and unseen, shadow and light.

Fritz’s blade passed right through the darkly translucent Hound. His sword made no cut in its bared fangs, jaw, then neck as it rushed through, it was as if it were made of shadow and just as impossible to slash. Shadow? The realisation gave Fritz a suspicion and he called forth his Gloom Strike, coating his own blade in the same energies the Hound wielded while the sword was still within its hide.

Fritz felt Quicksilver catch and nearly be pulled from his grip but he grasped then held onto its nearly non-existent hilt with both hands as it tore a rent in and over the Beast’s back leg. It cried out in a whining tone one that hurt his ears and his heart with a stab of pity. A false stab. He pulled the blade away, not wanting to cause any more distress to the Hound as it ran past. A FALSE PITY, Fritz roared at himself, snapping out of the manipulation near instantly. But the moment had passed and the Hound had melted away into the shadow again.

It wasn’t enough that the hound had such a powerful command of shadow, no, it also had to have mind influencing effects. Fritz nearly screamed, he should have suspected it when the howls had nearly sent him to the ground, but it was no use recriminating himself now, he had a hound to hunt and now he knew how to find it.

Knowing what he was looking for he quickly spotted the Hound’s blurry form as it attempted to sneak up on Sid as she watched and waited for Fritz’s orders. Obviously, it wanted to kill the archer with the odd Treasure before it was peppered with arrows or stunned again. He thought he saw it stop, then he knew, somehow, that it was preparing a mighty leap.

But not on Sid. It was hard to notice and he felt like a fool for letting himself slip up but the numbness in his chest wasn’t just from his previously poisoned cut. The Hound is going to gut me with a Gloom Strike. He had been lured into a trap and a trick.

The Hound leapt straight at Fritz. Covering the distance between them in a moment. His whole body felt frozen like he was under the eerie waves of the Spire’s lake again.

His death was coming and he could barely feel it.