Spire's Spite

Chapter 58



Fritz woke, and it was one of the best ways to wake. He found Sid still sleeping under his arm and he smiled softly. Until a shadow moved. Standing above him, grinning from ear to ear was Bert his eyes dancing with mischievous delight.

“Can I help you?” Fritz hissed as quietly as he could at his idiot friend.

“No, no. Just waiting for two sticky love-skulgs to stop sleeping in,” Bert said in a whisper while shaking his head.

“We’re not sticky,” Fritz argued.

“We slept in?” Sid asked with a yawn as she began to stretch, pressing further into Fritz’s chest.

“Sure did,” Bert replied. “I don’t know how long it's been but I was up hours ago.”

“And you didn’t immediately wake us?” Fritz said sceptically.

“No, you needed the rest, and it's actually disgusting how cute you two looked all cuddled up. I couldn’t find it in my kind, soft heart to disturb you,” Bert espoused.

Sid suddenly recalled her surroundings and began to blush, she slipped out from under Fritz’s arm and quickly stood. She brushed down her clothes and strode past Bert, ignoring him and his dumb grin with rough dignity.

A little sad their embrace was over Fritz sighed and watched Sid as she walked to where her gear lay.

“I’m glad you two ‘worked’ out your tension. And to think only a week or two ago you two would have strangled each other on sight,” Bert said loudly, obviously trying to embarrass the both of them.

“Who said there was no strangling?” Sid called out.

Bert’s eyebrows rose and Fritz rolled his eyes, saying, “There was no strangling, there was no anything, we just got some sleep, together. Honest.”

It was Bert’s turn to roll his eyes, so he did exaggeratedly and said, “Of course not, how could I possibly question your unassailable chastity.”

Fritz scowled and began to rise to his feet, quickly noticing the heaviness of the metal in his bones. He unconsciously groaned as he stood, struggling against the new weight but managing it with a little more effort that was necessarily warranted from getting up. He frowned harder, he didn’t much like how sluggish and slow the Marbled Bones made him feel, even if was slight it was still an annoyance and a vulnerability.

“Do you feel heavy and slow too?” Fritz asked his friend, glad to have some other conversation to distract Bert with.

“Not so much heavy, but solid and strong? Yes. Slow? Not at all,” Bert boasted, showing off with a rapid punch, punch, kick combination that cut and cracked in the air.

Fritz sighed again, this time in some frustration, he knew some Abilities could be detrimental if you didn’t have quite the right Attributes but he thought it was a little annoying to have an Award give it to him without a choice. Even if the positives probably outweighed the negatives. He wondered if he could turn the Award off, but dismissed the notion instantly, shaking his head.

Reinforced bones are far too good to pass up, even at the expense of a little muscle strain. Though it’s not like he didn’t have some attributes to align, he had been avoiding strength so far, afraid that his Perception and Awareness needed to be higher to detect all the threats they had faced. He had been right to do so, especially considering the very last monster, the almost invisible Aberrant Hound whose pale corpse now lay by the Spire’s exit.

Without his Powerful Senses he was sure to have died, in fact, he seriously doubted anyone but him could have killed the foul beast. Even if they hadn’t been injured Bert and Sid wouldn’t have been able to see its vicious attacks coming, nor be able to wound it if it kept up its odd ghostly Ability to ignore weapons.

Fritz shuddered, glad that the terrible burden of keeping his friends alive was off his shoulders, for now at least. Not that it wasn’t gratifying that they trusted him. It was just a lot of stress, and it had been grinding him down slowly and surely. True as the rain.

Enough wavering, time to align some Strength.

“I think I’m going to put some points into Strength,” Fritz informed the room.

“Good idea,” Sid replied as she packed away her things. “You’ll need it if you want to actually hurt monsters at higher levels, or in taller Spires.”

“About time,” Bert groused. “I don’t want to have to carry everything anymore.”

“No, Bert, you will still be my mule, you Brute,” Fritz replied offhandedly, before sitting and plunging into his Sanctum.

Fritz thudded onto muddy ground, as a light drizzle fell from his overcast sky. He took a minute to observe his imaginary world, to really take in all the changes that had been wrought here over the climb. He wondered if Bert’s Arena or whatever form Sid’s Sanctum took had changed as much as his. He supposed not, as he knew that they hadn’t been so foolish as to bring something in from the outside like he did.

Glancing to the eerie, blue-green flame he noticed that it was burning almost calmly, like it was no longer struggling to get free of its brass prison. Staring at the weird fire he got the distinct impression it was watching him and biding its time, waiting for him to make a mistake so that it may engulf his Sanctum in a cruel conflagration.

Fritz took a moment to think about the Trait that was obviously offered because of the Eldritch Flame. It had said that it also wreathed his Sanctum in fire, did that mean there were other Abilities or Traits that could attack or defend a Sanctum? He supposed that’s how objects that could read and project your Spire Sheet worked, like the Scanning Orb in the Guides Guild. The local Ceph Outpost might have one as well, but it wasn’t likely.

Dismissing the distraction, Fritz looked over his willow, now at least three times his height, its bark starting to take on a decidedly grey hue like the now silvery pavilion under its long swaying branches. The leaves, which used to have a dark blue colouration, had been tinted purple at their edges and subtly shifted the light in odd ways. There were also the shadows, deeper and darker than they had any right to be, slithering over the ground like black eels.

Fritz suspected that usually a sight like that would make him shudder, make him quake with fear, but he felt nothing but acceptance, protection and a sort of kinship from the roiling shade.

His pavilion stood among the darkness softly glowing with a silvery light, its gossamer purple curtains swaying in the slight breeze. It and his willow had seen the most change and somewhere deep inside a cold fury still boiled within Fritz that the pristine memory of his mother’s garden had been so thoroughly twisted.

Was it changed by the Faerie, the Spire or myself? He asked knowing there was no answer that would satisfy him, knowing that what's done is done. That he might as well stop the falling of the rain.

Without any more recrimination, and accepting his new Sanctum wholeheartedly, he strode into the dancing shadows and placed a scarred hand to the willow's bark, accessing the last of the Power swirling in the sky. He knew he could access it from anywhere in the mental construct but this always seemed like the right place to do it. Right here, right by his willow, in and under the sanctuary of its shade.

He went over his options one last time, shook his head, and aligned his three free points to Strength. Immediately he felt new power swell in his muscles, like they were empty waterskins being filled. Then the rush faded. And he felt lighter, stronger, than ever before.

Fritz left his Sanctum and was struck by a more powerful echo of the effects in the real world. Standing quickly, he strode to and fro, getting a feel for his new heavy gait. Then Fritz tested his new strength swinging Quicksilver in a quick, cutting flourish. The blade was still heavier than he was comfortable with but he was definitely stronger, though by how much it was hard to tell. At least most of my bones' greater weight is less noticeable, he observed.

“Bert, I don’t feel that much stronger, is that what you felt?” Fritz asked unsure he’d had the right choice.

“What? No. Of course not. I put in more than three at the first Well and I’ve only put in more as we’ve climbed,” Bert boasted before continuing. “And don’t forget your terminal case of spindle-itus. Once you pack on some muscle the Strength should do more for you. What did you say again? ‘It multiplies the base?’” Bert reminded Fritz.

Annoyed that he had overlooked something so basic and had to be lectured by Bert of all people, Fritz tried out another couple of thrusts and lunges with his blade until he accidentally cut himself through the ragged hilt and set the sharp sword down.

“I have to get this thing a proper hilt,” Fritz said putting his small cut to his mouth.

“Yeah and maybe buy some new trousers, those are falling to pieces,” Bert said motioning at his stained and slashed clothing. “In fact, you should get Sid some too, you’re both around the same size.”

Fritz looked over himself then Sid then shrugged, “I see no issues with that, Sid you still gonna be a man on the outside?”

“Yeah,” Sid stated. “Safer that way, would you keep quiet about it?”

“Of course, we’ll keep your womanly disposition secret,” Fritz agreed easily.

Sid rolled her eyes but smiled all the same, stress leaking out of her now relaxing shoulders.

“Speaking of secrets, what are we going to tell the welcoming party,” Fritz said motioning at the window-like walls to a figure in a brown long coat standing on the cliff past the eerie lake surrounding the Spire.

Fritz couldn’t tell who exactly the man was, as they and the cliffs were quite far away, but had spotted them while talking and knew they’d be trouble.

“Forget the thugs, how are we gonna swim back with these heavy bones?” Bert asked with an unusually pertinent question.

Fritz frowned and looked out through the invisible wall, searching the roiling waters. He spotted a rowboat, quite a large one, big enough to fit at least ten people, swaying on the waves right by the Spires peak. It was obviously anchored to the stony bottom, a rope reaching from under a wooden bench into the dark depths.

“Boat,” Fritz said pointing out the wooden vessel. “Climb up the anchor, into the boat and row to the cliff. Wonder why they didn't use it for the swim to the Spire.”

“Probably some kind of initiation or test,” Sid said.

“Of course, what kind of Climb would it be with some added cruelty,” Fritz said bitterly.

Bert shrugged.

Fritz’s sighed pushing the just anger down, and continued “Well, we have a way out at least. Which brings me back to what to tell the oilcoats. I don’t exactly want to tell them how far we Climbed, and I’m sure they’re going to take some, if not all of our Treasures.”

“I need to prove my strength, I need to catch the eye of the Nightshark. Need to climb the ranks. And if that means giving up my Treasures, and telling them of our Golden Climb then I’m gonna do it,” Sid stated.

“Not going to try to join the storm guard?” Fritz asked.

Sid spat, “No, they either look the other way or as bad as the gangs themselves,” she said a cold hatred in her voice. “The rot is deep there, and the drizzlers care when you pick off their own. Unlike the usual thugs and filth.”

“Do we all have to go back together?” Bert asked. “We could split up, tell different stories.”

“Might be for the best,” Fritz said, sighing. “Makes you look heroic as well, one person completing a Golden Climb, it's nigh unheard of. Makes it very, very likely the Nightshark would sit up and take notice. If we had Golden Climbed the Mer Spire the Captain of the Scale guard would’ve taken notice, as would the Guilds and the Ceph teams. But secret as this Spire is, we won’t be getting any of that kind of notoriety. Which in my case is quite needed what with all these Sense Abilities,” Fritz mused, half to his crew and half to himself.

Bert nodded along at his reasoning, and Sid seemed to agree as well if her concerned frown was anything to go by.

“I’ll go first then, what will you two do?” Sid asked.

“We’re going to find a way to hide as much of our secrets and loot from the bastards as possible,” Fritz said smugly.

“You probably will have to take your chest and Seed to them, but you could leave your other Treasures with us and we store them somewhere for you to pick up at your leisure,” Fritz offered magnanimously.

Sid thought on the plan for a moment and nodded, removing her gaudy goblin-chief’s ring and handing it to Fritz.

“I’ll keep the belt for now, could use a little more to bind my ti- chest. As for the rest give it to Tallie, say they're for Sylvia, I trust her to keep them safe,” Sid said. “Oh, and take the Aberrant Seed.” She added handing off a gnarled palm-sized black, silver-veined orb.

“Was this from the Hound?” Fritz asked, setting the Treasures into his pack and hefting the Seed.

“Yep,” Sid said.

“Who’s Sylvia?” Fritz asked absentmindedly “A friend?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sid replied. “It’s just so Tallie knows that I trust you.”

Fritz shrugged and hid his smile at her warming words.

“Should we get it refined or keep it as is? Or do we just sell it off?” He inquired as Bert’s expression grew more and more frustrated.

“Okay, fine! What do Seeds do?” Bert blurted out.

Fritz smiled, “You finally admitted it you dullard. You have no idea what Seeds do at all do you?”

“I have some ideas, now that I made a Golden Seed. Aberrant, Refined, Golden. I just don’t know how they’re all different,” Bert admitted.

“Well it's very easy to explain really,” Fritz said condescendingly. “Aberrant Seeds come from Aberrant monsters. They will have the Abilities or Traits of said monsters stored in their Seed. You can use them when you have the Ability or Trait choice from a Well still stored in your Sanctum. It’s like an extra choice when you are offered Powers,” He lectured.

“However, Aberrant seeds are wild and will give you something random stored within, making it inadvisable to rely on unrefined Seeds. Whereas a refined Seed is usually pared down to one Power so its no longer a gamble,” Fritz ended.

“More Powers?” Bert said giddily.

“No. More choices,” Sid stated.

“Oh, damn! Why is that any good?” Bert groused, scowling at the Aberrant Seed still in Fritz’s hand.

“Because you may be offered Abilities that just don’t work well or are detrimental to your ‘kit’ or are just bad. You could instead find the right Ability in the right Seed and use that instead, making sure your kit is synergistic,” Fritz explained.

“Haven’t had that problem yet,” Bert grumbled.

“That’s ‘cause this Spire is crazy vicious and fight hungry,” Sid supplied.

“Other Spires can be less combat-focused and may offer Abilities and Traits that lend themselves to other things, like craftsmanship or scholarly pursuits. This Spire, quite frankly, is a monster, and definitely evil,” Fritz declared.

“Huh. What about these Golden Seeds then?” Bert asked.

“Haven't heard of them, probably one of the closely guarded secrets of the Guides Guild, Rulers and other hoarders of knowledge,” Fritz said offhandedly. “Golden climbs are fairly rare after all, and you have to be quite powerful and handsome to pull it off, if I do say so myself, which I do,” Fritz added with a self-satisfied smile.

“I think they do the same thing as a refined Seed, storing the Ability you chose so you have the option to pick it up again,” Sid said ignoring all of Fritz’s boasting bravado.

“Which is very useful, I stored that curse, Lethargy. What about you two?” Fritz asked.

“I took Gust,” Sid said.

“Why? Don’t you have Thunderclap now, doesn’t it do the same sort of thing?” Fritz said quizzically.

“It does, but Thunderclap has a Refresh of a minute and costs more. And it’s likely loud, seeing as it's called Thunderclap,” Sid explained. “Don’t want to be too loud doing what I’m going to be doing and Gust can fill in if it hasn’t refreshed yet. And you never know, it might eventually be merged with my Wind Strike if I get the choice.”

“Merge?” Bert asked interested.

“Sometimes. Rarely, you can combine, ‘merge’ or ‘fuse’ Abilities together creating a new more powerful or just more weird Ability in the process. It’s usually when you Ascend an Ability past its full three evolutions,” Fritz said offhandedly. “Let's not get too into it, we’re far away from that anyway.”

“What there’s more to the Spire system? Why is it so bloody complex?” Bert said exasperated.

“The Architect was obviously a madman, that’s why,” Fritz jovially blasphemed.

“Arravankis wanted everyone to have choices, to forge and follow their own paths, through endless trails and infinite roads,” Sid said, repeating the doctrine. “But who really knows?”

“I sure don’t,” Bert groused. “But I guess I got excellent recovery from it so who am I to complain, I’m no Fritz after all.”

“I resent that accusation,” Fritz complained then added “And don’t forget the extra years of life Vitality brings.”

“What?” Bert asked.

“You’ll live longer, even if you never improve your Strain,” Fritz said.

“Really?” Bert said still surprised.

“Really,” Fritz intoned solemnly

“Huh,” Bert stated not knowing what to do with the new knowledge.

They lapsed into a contemplative silence.

Seemingly sick of standing still Sid said, “I’m taking the Hound’s head as proof, that okay?”

Fritz nodded and Bert said, “But I was going to hang it over the mantle piece.”

“You don’t even have a house let alone a fireplace,” Fritz said.

“I will, once I buy one with all this gooold,” Bert announced, elongating the word gold annoyingly.

Ignoring the bickering Sid strode over to the Hound's corpse and began to hack off its head with her fin sword. Quickly Fritz was by her side and he held out Quicksilver to her which she took gratefully as her blade couldn’t even mar the silver bones. Thankfully his sword’s edge held up fine and was able to eventually chew through the beast’s glittering spine.

Removing the huge head with a twist she wrapped it in her oilcloth and stuffed the overlarge package into her pack. She then busied herself in making a sort of sling with which to bind her Golden Climb chest to her body, as it wouldn’t fit in her pack. Fritz did not envy Sid’s task of climbing the rope with all that weight, though she had more Strength than him so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.

Fritz set about helping her where he could, which wasn’t much but she seemed to appreciate it from the furtive smiles and glances she gave him. In too little time she was all wrapped up in packs and pouches, ready to leave.

Making sure she forgot nothing, Sid checked her pockets, patting them down quickly. There was a light thud. Her brows lifted in small surprised and she withdrew the small journal-like Technique book ‘The Observations’. Sid attempted to hand it back to Fritz, though he could see her reluctance to part with the book.

Fritz frowned a little and took the edge proffered to him, “Were you able to memorise it all?”

“The first couple of pages,” Sid said shrugging.

“We could wait up here while you memorised the rest, we don’t have to split up right now,” Fritz said hopefully.

“Every moment I wait, every second I stall, could be some young girl’s life,” Sid said darkly. “I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“Are you sure you don’t want our help?” Fritz asked again, nearly pleading.

“I have to set everything up, get the bare bones of my plan in place,” Sid explained. “And I have to do it alone, can’t have the Nightshark thinking we’re some kind of powerhouse new gang on the rise. That’s a way to get killed quickly and quietly.”

Fritz was about to interrupt her reasoning but she cut him of and continued, “Even if we’re level ten now, we’re not the only climbers in the gangs. We don’t even really know how strong the Nightshark is, only that they’re a higher level than anyone save some of the nobility and the King and his Court Climbers. We’re not strong enough. Yet. So we have to lay low or bend the knee to the powers that be. For now,” Sid finished seriously.

Fritz wanted to argue but everything she said was correct. Forget about the Nightshark, how would they even fair against some one like Jagged Nic? So he sighed nodded and took the Technique book back.

“I would say its foolish to go alone, but I think you’re right. It’s the least suspicious way to do things, but I doesn't sit right in my heart,” Fritz said.

Sid smiled a little at his words and added, “I don’t feel to great about it either, but I’ll call you when I need you,” Sid said stoically.

“We’ll be there,” Fritz intoned.

“Anything for a pack-sister,” Bert added.

A silence fell, it was not stifling, cold or awkward, instead it resounded with the determination contained within their words and hearts.

The crew walked to the Stairway together and there were no goodbye speeches or ceremonies. Sid awkwardly hugged Bert with a soft ‘bye Bert’ and then was standing in front of Fritz looking him in the eyes anxiously.

“I’m going now,” Sid stated.

“I’ll see you on the outside,” Fritz replied as his stomach roiled with dread.

Sid sighed on seeing his expression, she took a step closer, seized him by his ragged collar and pulled him into a rough kiss. He returned it just as roughly. While Bert watched on and whistled.

When their kiss was broken Sid stepped back and slapped Fritz on the chest, saying “Don’t look so sad, you making me feel like I’m leaving a kitten outside in a storm. We’ll see each other again, I promise.”

Fritz grinned, a little from the unexpected goodbye kiss, but mostly from the promise of a reunion in Rain City.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Fritz stated. “I wish you the fondest farewell and the best of luck, not that you need it, until we meet again Lady Sid,” he pompously performed with a flourishing bow. Then in a serious tone, he said, “See you later Sid, I’ll miss you.”

Fritz thought he saw Sid’s eyes tear up, but she turned, hiding her features in her scarf and strode down the stairs.

Fritz watched her back as his heart ached, but he kept the smile on his face lest she look back, she did but only for a moment and only to give him one last, glorious, teary smile of her own. Before her expression hardened into one of furious, determined will.

Sid strode down the stairs, away until she could no longer be seen.

Fritz didn’t know if they’d ever meet again and the thought made him feel tiny and wretched. Still, he decided to let himself feel these feelings of loss. He didn’t weep openly, but he did feel a trickle down one cheek.

“Don’t get killed.”


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