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Stepping Wild, Draft 2, CH 33
🕑 Added 2025-03-28 13:00:03 +0000 UTC“You’re back?” Merka sounded surprised. “I said I’d return.” They snorted. Tibs undressed. The leathersmith had handed him a leather jerkin
“You’re back?” Merka sounded surprised.
“I said I’d return.”
They snorted.
Tibs undressed.
The leathersmith had handed him a leather jerkin and shirt the day before, made of leftovers from her other works, since he’d said he wouldn’t care. They would offer no protection against the dungeon’s creatures, so he’d decided to do the run nude and spare himself having to explain more destroyed clothing while being barely injured. And clothing was one of the more common loot in the caches. He’d make his dungeon attire out of those.
He removed his bracers and placed them on the shelve by the entrance.
“You aren’t wearing the armor?” Firmen asked.
“I’ll take what I find in the caches.” He took the sword and shield.
“You know I don’t control what they’ll contain.”
“Won’t control,” he corrected. “But it’s fine. I know what to expect from your creatures now.”
“Something’s rather confident,” Merka said smugly.
He shrugged. “I won all our fights.” He stepped to the tile room that marked the start of the maze.
“Only because you cheated.”
He smirked and set about reaching the boss room.
*
Tibs deflected the snake’s headbutt, which still staggered him back. He leaped over the other head as it snapped at his legs, cutting it off before landing. He watched the remaining head, ready for the coming essence attack.
“Come on,” he muttered in exasperation as he sensed the corruption essence rising along the snake’s body. “Think, Merka.”
The essence paused, and the snake’s surprised expression looked oddly out of place on such a bestial face. “What do you mean, think? You think you’re smarter than I am?”
He didn’t answer that question. “I know you aren’t thinking this attack through.” While he did want them to realize their mistake, he also hoped to save the leather armor chest and rough cloth pants he’d managed to keep intact after finding them.
“Really?” the snake’s narrowing eyes look too people-like.
Tibs didn’t hold out much hope. “Think, Merka.”
They screamed and spit the corruption at it, lunging after the attack, maw wide. He stepped out of the way of the corruption only enough to save his shield and sword, then cut the overconfident head off.
“You’re cheating!” they screamed as the head’s roll came to a stop and moss started growing over it.
“I told you to think.” Once it was covered, it deflated, the way a waterskin did when the water was let out, and quickly, it was nothing more than another patch of moss on the ground. Still no creature drops, but Tibs didn’t bring that up. He didn’t need the coins.
“That was to distract me!” they snapped.
He shrugged. He couldn’t force them to pay attention to what he told them. He walked past the chest and stood before the section of wall that had a subtly different composition.
“Is this the door to the second floor?” Beyond the wall, Firmen’s essence wasn’t as defined, and spread over roughly twice the distance as the maze.
“It’s where my extension will start.”
“Extension?” he’d never heard that relating to dungeons. He shifted his attention down and realized the dungeons’s essence structure didn’t go any deeper than the mud room’s three time his height. Even the Boss room was no deeper, the essence the snake was made of only taking a little over his height.
“The part of me those who defeat this room can venture through in search of more strength and reward.”
“Why aren’t you putting that under this floor?”
“There’s nothing below. Just Earth, Air, Water. Hardly any Fever. Slightly more Crystal and—oh, my reach must have extended; I never notice Metal there.” The pause felt surprised. “When’s the last time that happened?”
“So, you stay above because you are a wood dungeon?”
“I’m not a wood dungeon. Is that a thing?” they called.
Tibs motioned around him. “It’s all made of wood.”
“The snake wasn’t. Neither were the animals.”
“But is still mostly wood. Even the Woodling are made almost entirely of Wood essence.”
“It’s what I have the most of. Until the first person died, I barely had enough fever to make a few animals.” They paused again. “They seem to be more clever than people. Not a lot of them die in my traps.”
“They might be too light to trigger the tiles, or cause the plates in the mud room to shift.”
“My point is that I’m not a ‘anything dungeon.’ If that’s even a thing. I am me. I use what I have access to.”
“But there’s a lot more earth under you than wood around you.”
“But pillars of earth are going to be ugly among the trees.”
“But they make sense for a floor under you.”
“And how do you expect trees to survive there? I can’t spend my Light essence on them. I have better use for it. Why are you so adamant there be a floor under me?”
He closed his mouth on the ‘Because that’s how dungeons are.’ That was guild thinking. By standing within Firmen, it was proved wrong.
“I guess,” he admitted. “It’s because it’s all I’ve known. Every dungeon I’ve been in or heard of is in a mountain and has floors.”
“Well, I am in a forest and spreading wide is what feels natural to me.” The silent ‘there’ made Tibs smile.
He took the sword out of the chest and pulled it from the scabbard. The blade was simple, but the balance good. Its length was almost exactly what he liked. “Who brought in a sword like this?”
“No one. I played with the shape of knives until I had something the Woodlings could wield. Since the knives were metal, I put some also made of metal in the loot list.”
He placed the old sword in the chest. “I’ll be keeping this.”
*
The tavern owner wasn’t the only one staring at him as he walked to the counter with the stag over his shoulder.
“Don’t put that there,” he ordered when Tibs was about to drop it for the man. “What are you bringing that in here for?”
“So you’ll prepare it, feed it to the village.” He’d figured something larger would be better for them.
“Do I look like I’m set to do anything with that? You hunters deal with whatever needs to be done and then bring me the meat.”
“I—” the woman froze in the process of standing from her table when Tibs looked in her direction. “I can deal with it?” he fear made the offer uncertain. She looked too strong and wizened for her to be afraid of him. “If you don’t have the time?”
The owner went to server his customers.
“I’d rather go back out,” Tibs said.
She cleared the counter and ignored the barkeep’s glaring, motioning for Tibs to place it there. She examined the cut in the neck. “That’s clean. It’s a sharp knife you have.” She continued looking the carcase over.
“A sword. I left it at my camp,” he added at her surprised expression.
“There’s no arrow wound. Did you kill it with the sword?”
He nodded, and she stared at him, before her eyes went to the mended rip in the hide shirt’s shoulder.
“I chased it to exhaustion,” he said. “I thought it was done for when it dropped, but had enough energy to try to gouge me when I got close.” That part was true enough. He’d gotten careless and approached before he’d fully drained it of its Life essence, and paid for it.
“Where are you hunting?” she asked in awe. “I haven’t seen such a healthy buck in years.”
“How far from the village do you go?”
The fearful look she gave him was answer enough. They were all so scared of going deep into the forest they’d hunted all the healthy animals away. Maybe he could help them reclaim some of it.
“I went Nadir. Walked slightly more than half the day before making my camp.” That was in the opposite direction from Firmen. They should be safe, other than the dangerous animals that populated the forest. “I saw signs there’s a bear and some large cats, so be careful of those.” That would put them at the ready for the larger animals he’d sensed.
“Nadir?” a man at a close table asked, eying him suspiciously. “Kinda odd. The guard said he watched you head Zenith bound when you left the road.”
“I started in that direction,” he confirmed. “Nadir from there would keep me too close to the village and the farms. I did a circuit Sunsetward, then headed Nadir. I figure I’ll continue Sunrise in a few days.”
The suspicion didn’t leave the man’s face. “Can you take me there? I’d love to see such a good hunting ground.” The man’s lack of subtlety was amusing.
Tibs chuckled. “When I leave the village, it’s because I’m done dealing with people.” And he couldn’t pass himself off as a competent tracker to anyone with experience.
“We can go now. You’re back, so you must be fine.”
“I’m back.” Tibs hardened his tone. “Because I figured the village would enjoy this buck. Not because I felt like seeing people again.”
The woman spoke before the man could reply. “Are you sure it’s safe to hunt there?”
He shrugged. “No forest is entirely safe. But I didn’t come across anything I couldn’t explain,” he added, figuring it was her actual question, and to silence the man.
“What do you want in exchange?”
“I promised the hide to the leathersmith. If you can get them to her, she’s making me clothing as payment.”
“That’s all?” she looked the carcase over again.
He ran a hand through his growing beard. “Does anyone have an obsidian knife?”
She stared at him. “What’s obsidian?”
“A crystal like stone.” If she had to ask, he’d have to make do without.
*
He looked at his reflection in the sheet of water he kept up before him, and took a fist full of his beard. He hoped this worked, because the only other way he could think of was fire, and he knew from experience fire was too hungry for hair to be used safely.
“What are you doing?” Firmen asked as Tibs molded the Purity essence into a line. An etching would be better, but he’d never worked on one that made use of the element’s destructive properties.
“Shaving.” He paused. “Do you know what obsidian is?”
“No.”
“Can you check if Merka does?”
“Merka will not be interested in answering any questions from you.”
He nodded and brought the line between his fingers and chin.
The issue wasn’t simply to remove the excess hair, but having the end result look intentional. Trimming his own beard was harder than shaving it right off, and was one reason he didn’t keep a beard, but in this case, he’d have to endure the pain of raw purity ripping the essence away from his face at the same time as the hair.
It was slow. Unlike fire, Purity didn’t hurry. He’d never asked the clerics why that was, but expected the answer would be something to the effect of, ‘Work well done can’t be done fast’.
“Why not just let it fall?” Firmen said. “They don’t need help for that.”
“But I can’t control when they’ll fall.”
“Then why let it grow?”
The line was too straight. It was like swinging a sword to a piece of lumber in an attempt to make it look like the person posing. Not something accomplished without more skill than he had. The best he’d manage was to end up looking like a villain in a bard’s song.
“I don’t control that. People don’t.”
“But you have all those elements.”
“But not Fever. From what I’ve learned, it’s the one I need to control my body.”
“Then get it.”
He shuddered at the memory and still his hand. “It’s not that easy.”
“You gained one here easily enough.”
“Because you tried to kill me. I hadn’t planned on it. An audience needs specific circumstances.”
“And a dungeon killing you is one of them?”
This cut made a sharp angle where it met the previous one. Any sharper and someone might cut themselves running a hand through his beard. “That’s the last way I’d want it to happen.” He could cut through that, but all he’d do was make his beard look like a facetted gem. “Nearly killing triggered an extreme emotion, which is one of the needed component.”
“Then you lied to me.”
“What?” He looked toward the door since he had no direction to look at the voice.
“You told me that this is a run. But if my creatures or Merka kill you. You’ll have another audience and return.”
“No.” He considered what might actually happen. “I might have an audience, but Wood gave me a boon so I could survive what you’d done. I don’t think I’ll get a second one. I think she did it specifically because it happened while I wasn’t trying to have the audience. It was a chance to continue on my journey. After that, I expect she wants me to see to my own growth.”
“I guess I have no choice but to wait and see what happens when you die.”
Tibs smirked. “If I die.”
*
The ‘thunk’ sounded as Tibs stepped forward, and only realized he’d stepped back when the pain erupted along his arm, instead of the wall of spears ripping him apart.
Then he could think through the pain. He cursed himself for Omega level inattentiveness. He used the pair of pants he’d taken from the cache to stench the flow of blood. So much for having a spare set when the already damaged ones became unwearable.
He looked at the tiles. Where he’d stepped and frowned. He hadn’t mis-stepped. That had been a safe tile.
“You made changes.”
“You’ve gotten comfortable enough crossing the room. I thought it would get you.”
He tied the pants over the injury. “It almost did.” The pain subsided into numbness. His shield arm was out for the rest of this run.
He crouched, looking over the floor. “If you’re going to make changes between runs, I say you should add an element Runners can use to work out where the triggers are. They are going to exhaust themselves before they encounter creatures having to test each ones, each time.”
“Say what you want,” Firmen replied, smug. “The rules are that Runners have to be able to cross the room. They still can. If they want an easy test. They can go to another dungeon.”
*
Tibs ran before the bubble of essence reached the snake’s mouth. He had no idea what element it was, which meant he couldn’t get caught in the blast. He stopped and changed direction as the crystal shards left the mouth and shattered on the wall where he would have been. Merka was getting good at tracking him, but not anticipating changes.
“I’m glad you’re thinking now,” he said, using the time the snake frowned to cut the head off and head for the chest, ignoring Merka’s protest he’d cheated. He only had one useable arm, so it was the only way he could have won.
The chest contained furs.
He closed it.
“Is it okay if I practice channeling Wood here?”
“I don’t think you can count on Merka to help you this time. And I am not keeping you from wandering into my traps if you leave the room.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. After last time, I have a good handle on how to remain myself while channeling the element.”
“Then go ahead.”
*
“Stop!”
“Hi, Merka.” Tibs followed the line of essence through the wall that needed to be adjusted. “That was a good fight.” He’d asked Firmen why they’d let this deteriorate, but the dungeon hadn’t answered. Had ignored him, since the dungeon wasn’t so vast yet they could move some place and not hear him.
“I said stop,” they said in exasperation, sounding ahead of him.
“I need to resolve this. Firmen—”
“Will you stop before you get yourself killed?”
He stopped. “You don’t want me to die anymore?”
“Yes. But not to a trap, which you’re about to walk into.”
He looked around. He didn’t know where in the maze he was. That was for after he’d fixed the problem. He sensed where he’d been headed and, as Merka warned, the floor was littered with triggers.
“Thank you. I’ll watch where I step.”
They snorted. “I don’t think you can notice anything right now, unless there is something wrong with it. What’s so captivating about that essence?”
“Why is Firmen letting it degrade like that? They usually seem too careful to let something like this happen.”
“Firmen is working on the expansion and only keeps the minimum needed to maintain this one is—what am I doing? You’re the one who owes me answers.”
“What questions do you want me to answer?” This was more immediate than the wall.
“What was that thing about me thinking? You weren’t just distracting me, were you?”
“I was simply pleased that you were finally paying attention to the right element to use against me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You used Crystal.”
“Yes.” They sounded unsure.
“Didn’t you use it because you realized it was one of the elements that could hurt me?”
“It was the next element I hadn’t tried against you.”
“Oh.” He overcame his disappointment. This was an opportunity to help them grow. “You need to pay attention. You can sense the elements I have, right?”
“Yes.” Again, the hesitation.
“And, didn’t you notice that anytime you used one of them against me, they didn’t hurt me?”
“No, I… you… you were—”
“I wasn’t cheating. Firmen said so. I didn’t do anything. It’s just something that comes with me having that element.”
“That’s not true. You cut yourself on the thicket. And the spears ripped your arm open.”
“You need to pay attention, Merka. I said how if I gain an audience in a dungeon, I don’t gain the immunity; it’s breaking the rules or something.”
“So…” they trailed off. “I have to use wood to kill you, or an element you don’t have.”
“Or one I’ve gained in a dungeon.”
“Which ones are those?”
Tibs smiled, proud of their attempt. “I think you can figure out ways of working that out.”
When Merka didn’t reply, Tibs returned his attention to the wall. The trees shouldn’t be hampered by Firmen’s attention being elsewhere, or their need for more essence.
“You’re just telling me that because Wood is changing how you think, aren’t you?” they asked as Tibs moved to the next trunk.
He faced their voice again. “Yes. I was counting on me urging you to help you work it out. With this fight, I thought you had.”
“You don’t think much of me, do you?”
Tibs was puzzled by the question and the defeated tone. “I think a great deal of you Merka. You helped Firmen with a lot of what they had to learn to become the dungeon they are. I just think you still have a lot of growing to do when it comes to fights. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel you should be smarter. Ganny is the only other helper I’ve known, and it left me with expectations. But let me tell you, there is no way she’d be able to fight like you.”
“Fine!” Now they sounded exasperated. “If you ever bring this up, I am going to convince Firmen to spear you with all the wood essence he has.”
“Why do you sound angry?”
“Oh, and I’m the dumb one?”
“I never said that.”
“I know.” They sighed. “Tell me why you’re alone.”
“You don’t need to hear that.” He pushed the emotion the suggestion brought up aside and focused on what mattered.
“You want me to be better, done you?” Merka asked, distracting him from the essence. “I need to know what happened to you for that.”
He swallowed the pain. “I don’t—” but if it helped them. “I…put my obsession before my friends.”
“How did you do that?”
“Please,” he whispered. His eyes stung.
“Why would you do that?”
This pain couldn’t be worth helping them. He pushed it down before—
“I won’t be able to grow without knowing that.”
He needed to put their needs before it. He didn’t matter. His pain didn’t matter. What he’d done to his friend didn’t matter. Only—
He swallowed the anguish, but hung onto that sense.
His friends mattered. They were a part of him. Some things were more important than his memories of them, but they would always matter. Only the elements could think they didn’t, and Tibs wasn’t the element.
“You played a dangerous game, Merka,” he whispered.
They snorted. “What’s the worse you could do? Gotten all hot? Firmen would have noticed, and he’d have speared you. You’d be dead and I wouldn’t have to deal with you again. Since that didn’t work. How about you take yourself outside? I believe your run’s over.”
Tibs didn’t contradict them. Didn’t point out that what he’d used before was only a small portion of the fire he could bring to bear. He let them think he didn’t see through the dismissiveness. That he didn’t understand Merka had helped him.
He left the dungeon.
Author's Thoughts
This was almost entirely tightening of the text. The one place that stands out was the sword Tibs gets for defeating the boss. In the previous draft, it’s a cleaned up copy of the sword he found in Mother Natril’s attic. Here, I removed it.
Primarily because I have lost track of the sword, and I didn’t have time to search for if Tibs had brought it into the dungeon or not. But also because ultimately, what the sword is based on is irrelevant. There is nothing ‘special’ about Mother Natril’s sword and it isn’t like Tibs could return a better version to her. She’d be able to tell the difference.
