Bacon Macleod
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B4 Interlude 18: Strangspine, pt. 1
🕑 Added 2025-11-01 04:03:02 +0000 UTCBronwyn held his head high and kept his gaze fixed ahead as he walked down the streets of Deadacre at the head of their team. At his age, with more than a few years at Silver, he was long used to the looks they got out in public.
Word had gotten out that they were leaving on another expedition — this time to investigate the mysterious problem of all the local beasts vanishing.
As they headed for the eastern gate, more and more people gathered to watch them pass. It wouldn’t go so far as to call it an impromptu parade or anything of the like — more that people filtered out of shops and eateries to watch them pass. Such was the life of a local celebrity, he supposed.
It wasn’t that much of a surprise, fully suited up as they were. That, and there weren’t all that many with beast-driven carts in this part of the city. Theirs moved alongside them — a heavy thing of inscribed oak and steel with armoured, reinforced siding and wheels.
It had an awning, but the front and sides were open. With their strength, they didn’t need the extra cover; it was far better that they had an undisrupted view of their surroundings when out in the wild.
As heavy as it was, their cart couldn’t have been pulled by a mundane horse — not that those existed anymore. Theirs was pulled by an earthen dauntle, a beast of burden prized in Greenseed the lands beyond for their strength, surprising speed, and steadfast calm and intelligence.
It looked similar to an ox, albeit nearly twice the size and covered in stone-coloured shaggy hair. Four horns arced from its blocky head — two large ones pointing to the sides, as thick as Bronwyn’s calf, and two thinner, pointed ones jutting directly forward. He knew that in wild specimens, their charges could shatter stone.
It had been pure luck they’d managed to acquire one several years ago. They’d rescued a merchant whose caravan train was piloted by dauntles exclusively.
The man had been waylaid by a pack of direwolves on his way to Mystral, and once they’d saved him, he’d insisted they take a calf as payment. Caring for the damn thing had been a burden at first, but Bronwyn couldn’t deny the stoic beast had grown on him.
They weren’t riding in the carriage while they walked through the city. As the operational leads of the local guild chapter, they had a certain image to maintain.
People looked to them for security.
Hence why he did his best to look confident and steadfast as he trekked toward what would likely be one of the most dangerous jobs of his career.
Putting on a smile, he waved to the people around him. Deadacre needed their confidence — needed that little moment of comfort that seeing his team could give them.
While he didn’t long for the recognition, it was part of the job.
Hells, he’d never met a Delver who enjoyed it. Or at least, the realities of the job beat the glory-chasing out of most people quickly. It was hard to imagine. The only reason he’d signed up to the guild so many years ago was to kill monsters, make some coin, and maybe keep a few people safe while he was at it.
Only a lunatic would join the guild for fame. It was a dangerous job, after all.
His team followed his lead, plastering on wide smiles as they trudged through the city. An hour later, they were out, growing a little less stiff as they picked up their pace to pull away from the city gates. Breaking quickly from the road, their dauntle kept pace with them — its strength and size more than enough to handle dragging their specially commissioned cart over rough terrain.
After another hour, Deadacre was little more than a thin line of grey on the horizon. Bronwyn sighed in relief, enjoying the fresh wind and the soft grasses beneath his feet once they were out of the circle of dead land surrounding the city. Some might have found that patch of earth ominous, but he found it exhilarating. It was associated with the excitement of a new job, or the blooming joy of coming home victorious.
“Nice to be back in the wilds again,” Dross said, hefting his windless crossbow to rest it on his shoulder. “Always feel like a bloody cut of prime meat when we’re in the city.”
Yanira laughed deeply, the bastion carrying her steel greatshield as if it were a feather pillow. “It’s not that bad,” the giantess replied. “I think it’s kind of sweet. It’s not like they come up and harass us — they’re only trying to get a glimpse.”
Dross snorted, looking back and up at the woman. “Well, yeah, of course you’re used to it. You don’t exactly blend into a crowd.”
Yanira sniffed, looking down her nose at him. “Did your mother never tell you it’s rude to comment on a lady’s height?”
Bronwyn could only grin, shaking his head. That was his favourite bit about the wilds — without the burdens of image to maintain, he could fall back into the kind of teasing that developed between a team that had fought together for years. At this point, they were family for all intents and purposes.
“Hey, even if it’s a little uncomfortable, at least we’re all used to it. Did you see that new team? Gods, they looked like they were ready to claw out of their own skin with all the staring,” Julis chuckled, the mage using his staff as a walking stick.
It was true, Bronwyn thought to himself. Each one of them had walked around like they’d had a steel rod rammed down their spines.
“It’s quite a lot to deal with all at once,” Bronwyn said. “Not only have they hit Silver, which is rare enough out in the Frontier, they hit it so damn fast that everyone wants to know how. It doesn’t help that everyone already knows of them, thanks to all the hubbub about their capture.”
Yanira nodded in agreement. “Plus, the poor things haven’t had any time to get used to it. By the time we were High Steel, it had been years of our involvement in the guild gradually growing. They went from nothing to top dogs in what, a year?”
Bronwyn nodded slowly. It was certainly confronting. Hells, if anything, it had proven to him that they had been resting on their laurels. When was the last time he had evolved one of his Class skills? A year ago? Eighteen months? Far too long.
Even if the demands on their experience were far higher than the new team’s due to their increased level, it was still a shocking discrepancy.
Bronwyn eyed the frontier, with its rolling hills and the smudges of far-off glades and forests, before he turned back to look at the stout, rough-hewn walls of Deadacre.
It was hard to deny that he’d felt satisfied with his achievements for some time.
He himself had been swifter than average in reaching Silver, taking only a little less than a decade. He’d been strong, sure of his strength for so long that it was confronting to remember they weren’t the peak of power. Oh sure, in the frontier it was easy to feel like they’d ridden to prominence, but the way Kaius and his team had blazed up past them, superseded them in so many ways, and undoubtedly would grow faster than them too — it made him feel odd, lazy.
He frowned, feeling the unfamiliar flush of embarrassment creep up the back of his neck. For so many years, Gold had seemed monumenta l — impossible to reach. No one reached Gold in the frontier for years. Hells, the only native Gold he knew in the frontier was Arc’theros himself, and that man had been at it for a century of endless dedication.
Seeking to follow the same path, let alone strive for the third tier beyond Gold, seemed almost hubristic — like they were fooling themselves.
Reaching Silver had slowed them.
“We’re definitely going to need to push ourselves if we want to keep up with them,” Bronwyn said. “Especially if we want Honours — the ones those kids told us about. It’s hard to even imagine achieving them without the benefits that team had already accrued. But we might need to anyway, if we want to keep up with the world.”
Julis shook his head ruefully. “It’s quite confronting to be faced with genius, isn’t it? I’m not just talking about those bloody Honours — but two of them have discovered new branches of magic. Two. In a single team, they’ve advanced magecraft more than I’ve seen since the bloody Empire. It’s insane.”
If anything, the mage was understating it. It was one thing for those kids to be strong — some of it could be hand-waved away by recklessness, sheer grit, and an outsized talent for violence. But on top of that, for them to be innovatively talented as well? It was downright unfair. Sure, both Ianmus and Kaius were getting heavy lifting from the System in regard to how their magic functioned, but that was how it always went when a new art was discovered. Whether crafting, combat, or casting, true theoretical underpinnings followed with time and research. But that first innovation — the leap across the chasm born by brilliance and insight alone — was what was so hard.
“Yes, yes, they’re very clever,” Dross said. “I’m still convinced they’re lunatics. Has Rieker or Ro checked them for brain worms yet? They’ve reached the twenty-ninth layer — hells, jumped into the twenty-fifth when they hadn’t even hit the wall. That’s actual insanity. If that’s what you need to do to get an Honour, I’m not sure if we’ll ever reach that standard.”
“Not with that attitude, we won’t,” Bronwyn grinned. He had more than a few ideas. Ever since he’d found out about the System’s rewards and the source of the ancient Observers’ great strength, they’d consumed his thoughts. He’d picked over what Kaius and his team had shared with them, analysed likely breakpoints where they could achieve similar feats that fit the same metrics they’d begun to recognise between their wealth of rewards.
“Please share your wisdom with us, oh great leader,” Yanira said, grinning as she dipped low in a faux bow, holding her shield easily aloft as she did so.
“While our current mission takes priority, I think we should focus on our skills for as long as we need to — ideally bringing everything to its peak before we gain too many more levels,” Bronwyn said.
It was a very simple problem they’d run into. Even with the Phase change, they’d faced very few Silver threats. Without the pressure of combat and without entering a Delve, their skills had stagnated. It had been all too easy for them to let the fight fall to the wayside, slowly grinding up over years. Far better if they put some true pressure on themselves and scrounged as much strength as they could. If they could suppress their level, it opened up options.
Dross scowled. “That could take years.”
Bronwyn nodded. “It would — but it would also give us the strength we need, especially if we focus on our general skills. I’ve seen the resource-based Honours. With enough skill levels, the right investment in some expensive alchemy, and the use of the right class skills, we might be able to snag some of those. It’s a perfect branch waiting for us. And with the time it’ll take to polish our skills, no doubt others will discover more. I’m certain there are skill-based ones out there that don’t rely as much on brute strength — similar to the ones for kills over distance or resource management.”
If they could get those, it would be a start — enough to raise the average level they fought at. If they could find the right Delve, it might just be enough to garner the momentum they needed to keep pushing.
As he explained his plan, his team grew silent and thoughtful.
“Dangerous,” Yanira said, her tone serious.
“If you’d mentioned this a year ago, I’d have thought you’d finally started to lose your mind,” Julis added.
“Positively reckless,” Dross agreed.
“You could even call it stupid,” Bronwyn said, smiling.
His team grinned, their eyes bright and hungry, and Bronwyn knew he had their backing. Hells, he’d known it for days; otherwise, he wouldn’t have even suggested it. Ever since they’d heard the story of Kaius and his team, there’d been an energy in them—one he hadn’t felt in over a decade. That rush, that excitement and wonder for what might lay over the next horizon.
Bronwyn moved to their cart and clambered up into the seat. “Come on,” he said as he took his place at the reins. “Let’s pick up the pace. We’ve got some hard leagues to cover before we get to those villages.”
As his team clambered in beside him, he flicked the reins. Their dauntle sped up into a swift trot as they cut their way toward their next adventure.
A/N: I was possessed by the spirit of halloween, it made me think going to karaoke and drinking a bottle of soju was a good idea after I had already finished my box of beers at a costume party.
Got home at like 3:30-4, realised I hadn't edited my chapter, opened my beta readers document -- then audibly said fuck that and went straight to bed lmao.
At least I woke up to copious amounts of both macdonalds and turkish food?? No pide though :(
Hope everyone else has/had a great halloween!
Another interlude on monday, since i really need the final chapter of the interludes to come either right before or right after the crux chapter of this arc
Comments
Ganicouscous
Tftc
Adunn
It’s unfair that they can’t get the pillars. Really hope there’s some way around it.
Dar-Angol
Yep,we took our 2 yr old trick or treating,visited old friends, finally got to relax at home,no place like it..
