Octophobia
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Spire's Spite - Arc 4 - Chapter 18
🕑 Added 2025-11-09 14:53:22 +0000 UTC--- Author's note --- Sorry again for the lateness. As mentioned in previous post, I will be taking a week break. Hope you enjoy the chapter. :) ---
Fritz paced between the Doors, soon stopping when he began to pant. The temperature had risen to an awful degree. It was as hot as a forge.
He considered the choices before him as keenly as his heat-muddled mind could. A Floor that was open and filled with ambush predators, one that he couldn't feel much from at all, and the last: contaminated with undead.
He attempted to imagine what his father would have chosen in his place. Yet those wandering thoughts led him nowhere, save the man's staunch advice that undead should only be faced as a last resort, and it was best to avoid them where and when you could.
Adam had advised him of similar, though he contended the absolute nature of the notion. "There are worse things than the undead, but they are few and far between. Still, not all of those foul creations are made equal. Some are more deadly, some less. Some, truth be told, are weaker than many beasts you might otherwise encounter."
He told that skeletal monsters weren't too perilous a threat. It was the rotting, ghoulish beasts or haunts of unassailable ghosts or ethereal wraiths that were most deadly. The former for the insidious infections or diseases they could inflict, the latter for their draining, dreadful touches that could wither a limb or strip a man of their youth. If one still had it. There was also the matter of potent curses that a few of the lifeless horrors could invoke or impart.
However, Fritz's tutor had also lectured that the undead were generally mindless, devoid of strategy and self-preservation and therefore could be easily baited, tricked and trapped. Unless they had a leader. A puppet master of sorts. And when that leader fell, their minions were sure to follow, either joining their master in true death, losing all ability to think and act, or descending into flesh-starved frenzies. It depended on the undead in question.
There were, apparently, varying kinds of lifeless leaders, not all being undead themselves. The most common, and what Fritz thought he had seen through his Door Sense, was a Necromancer. While their deadliness shouldn't be completely dismissed, they often lacked most of the terrible powers of the more potent puppet masters, such as the loathsome liche and the dreaded deathknight.
Fritz shuddered at the very thought of those beings, but knew those terrors couldn't occur in such a small Spire. Or at least, that's what the conventional wisdom held. Though he had to admit he was still worried. And this Spire was hardly conventional, if any Spire could truly be considered so.
He set his Door Sense to delve as deep as it could into the mine-shaft, focusing on the brief glimpse he had been allowed of the man-alike. The impressions came back hazy, but he had the feeling that the puppet-master was living. It wasn't enough. He pushed harder, straining his Awareness. The image of a withered palm bleeding onto a circle of mad runes and glyphs was pressed into his mind.
Fritz flinched. His Sense and Attribute throbbed painfully from the exertion, bringing on a headache that wasn't welcome in the stifling heat and the blinding steam of the Well Room.
"What's taking so long?" Bucket wheezed. "Pick already, Captain, or I'll do it for you."
Fritz was about to tell the man to be silent, but he didn't have to.
"Shut up! Let him think," Nail growled. His sentiment was echoed across the whole crew.
It was a surprise to hear the thug speak in his defence, to be sure, though it was welcome. Maybe his display of Eldritch Flame and its overwhelming power had forced the man to reconsider where his loyalty lay.
Fritz couldn't dwell on it. His indecision was sure to kill them just as well as a poor choice of Door would.
He dismissed the middle Door, he knew too little about it. He would prefer to know the dangers of a Floor rather than be left guessing.
The choice was between the nigh-invisible stalkers in what was essentially open ground and the twisted chambers of the undead mine.
His head spun, sweat dripped from him like rainwater.
"Right Door," Fritz chose. Then led the way in and up.
The heat fell noticeably with each step up. The cool relief was celebrated with long sighs and grateful groans, though that didn't last.
"It stinks!" Barge complained.
"Rancid," Toby agreed.
"Rat Cleaver," Clover murmured.
"There's no Rat Cleaver," Fritz stated.
"Then what is that smell?" Bucket asked.
"I'll tell you when you need to know," Fritz said. "Now be quiet, all of you. You don't want to attract any beasts, do you?"
Soon, the only thing that could be heard was the scraping of boots on stone and the occasional crunching of gravel.
"Is that a bone?" Mel whispered.
"Shh," Toby hissed.
It was, indeed, a bone, but none commented further. Fritz didn't need to look back to know that doubt and worry were creeping onto their faces. All knew the reputation of undead, though not the true terror of them.
He would have to ease their fears, later, but first, he had to find somewhere for them to settle for a short while.
As they made their way up the sloping ramp, the Stairway grew narrower and the roughly carved roof lowered to such a degree that they had to crouch. Eventually, they crawled onto the Floor proper, surfacing from a hole into a small tunnel.
Fritz glanced down each end of the passage and could hear the distant echoing of clicks and clanks from both sides.
"It's so dark. I can't see a thing. What's that noise?" Clover whispered worriedly. Her breath was hurried, short, far faster than the panting of the rest of the crew.
Fritz turned to her, only to see her eyes darting around frantically and her wringing the front of her shirt. Motes of terror trembled around her, and it looked as though she might break out in shrieking at any moment.
"Miners," Fritz said, lighting his mana lantern. He unhooked it from his belt and handed it to her. "Here."
She took it gratefully, the flickers of fear slowing in their spinning.
"Soft." Toby signed with a smirk.
"That's a fancy light," Bucket noticed. "Must be worth a bit."
"Just a mana lantern," Fritz lied. "Common as cod."
"Maybe in the Upper Ring. Or for a drizzler," Bucket said snidely.
"Or for an experienced Scout," Fritz said.
"Won't you need it then?" Clover asked.
"No," Fritz said, not elaborating. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to find somewhere for us to rest."
"Not heading straight for the Stairway?" Reed asked.
"I would like to finally have those Treasures Noted," Fritz said. "And even after the Well, we're in no condition to scrape through these darks of caves."
"Alright," Reed said.
With no further objections, Fritz slipped away into the shadows.
He chanced upon his first undead in mere minutes. It was a fleshless corpse, a bared skeleton, bleached and brittle. He had been expecting it to have man-alike proportions or for its bones to have other oddities that differentiated it from a human-strain skeleton.
It was not so.
It was as real a set of bones one could uncover, clogging a gutter's drain in the desperate district, or stuffed away in some dank corner of a derelict house. Picked clean by rats, fish or birds, or worse, scraped spotless by skulg.
The skeleton swung its pickaxe at the tunnel wall, striking the unremarkable stone. Rock chips flew, but only a few. Its blow was of average to middling strength, and its precision was lacklustre to say the least. He wondered if this kind of undead were even a challenge for one of the levelless. Fritz was sure his brother would be able to fell the skeleton with little trouble.
Apart from the undead's grim, fear-inspiring form, he concluded the skeleton posed no threat at all to him and his current crew.
He decided to be rid of it.
Fritz put his hand on Quicksilver's hilt and intended to draw his sword before he realised that it would be too difficult to slash or chop effectively in the cramped confines. A thrust would be no good either, not against a monster without innards or flesh to pierce.
He reached for Mortal Edge before pausing again and reconsidering his course.
Was it truly necessary to cut down the undead? He asked himself, then returned the answer. No, it's not.
With an inward sigh, he refrained from attacking and attempted to sneak past the fortunate pile of walking bones.
Even though there was a yard between him and the undead, and Fritz was Cloaked in Dusk, the skull turned to face him, and with it the whistling point of a pick.
The tool stopped short of striking him, ringing off the tunnel's wall. Fritz's lip twitched, annoyed at the stupid skeleton. He'd been so kind as to spare its unlife, and it turned its bony back on his benevolence. Also, it had somehow seen him through his Cloak, which was irrevocably irksome.
Quick as a python, Fritz slid Mortal Edge from its sheath and slashed at its thin neck. With the scratch and screech of bone on bone, the skeleton's spine parted without much resistance, and its head rolled away with a clatter. Its body fell to pieces, becoming a pile of bones in truth.
Fritz glared, appalled, yet glad of the ease that the creature had returning to death. He soon moved on, searching for a room large enough to recuperate properly.
After two more encounters with skeletons, both ended swiftly by his dagger, he finally found what he was looking for. While he had chanced upon a couple of smaller cracks and shafts, none were the right size, as this one was.
Still, it would be a tight fit. Though he was used to such struggles, he didn't know if the rest would take it well. There was nothing to be done about it for now. What was important was safety, and the small chamber had some to offer.
He stalked through the tunnels, halting only once when he thought he saw a bone twitch. He stared for a full three seconds, but it moved no further. He left it be, returning to the crew.
He found them alert and on guard, though weary. Fritz appeared before them without flourish.
"This way, I've found somewhere to hole up," Fritz stated softly. "Hand me the lantern, and follow the light."
Clover, while hesitant to let go of the calming light, gave back the Treasure, and soon they were off.
"Are there any beasts in these tunnels?" Reed asked.
"There must be, I can hear them," Mel said.
"Nothing to worry yourselves with," Fritz claimed. "I defeated, handily I might add, all the foes between us and our destination."
"Yuck, bones," Mel said, kicking a length of pale white from under her boot.
"What kind of beast are they from?" Bucket asked.
"Those are human bones," Clover said dully. She then pointed at a skull just in the ring of light. "A skull."
A chill went down Fritz's spine, and not from the bones themselves. No, on his return, he had kicked the skulls into crevices, cracks and shafts so they wouldn't be seen and alarm his crew. But here one was, close to where the rest of its body lay.
It was a bad omen. One he suspected he had already puzzled out. Restless dead, the lifeless that wouldn't remain still and would soon rise again to terrorise the living.
Fritz cursed silently. He couldn't keep the secret of this Floor's perils for long.
"Fritz?" Toby asked.
"Yes?" Fritz replied innocently.
"Is this what I think it is?" Toby asked seriously.
"Unlikely. You're always wrong," Fritz stated.
Toby was about to press further, but a creaking, clacking sound echoed from ahead, and a pair of pick-wielding skeletons rushed down the tunnel. Despite the close walls and roof, they were entirely unaffected by the tightly packed conditions, hampering each other not at all as they sprinted on light, thin legs. Their jaws clacked and chattered as they charged, a war-cry closer to breathless laughter than unbridled fury.
"Undead!" Nail yelled, paling and backing away, bumping into those behind him.
Clover shrieked, and Mel screamed.
Trudge shouted, and Barge echoed the sound.
"Piss!" Reed cried.
Only Fritz and Toby stood their ground, then swept forth with daggers in hand. They collided as they moved in unison, tying each other up in their respective cloaks.
Picks arced clumsily, but were swift enough to strike Fritz. Both skittered off his breastplate, leaving small scratches on is black surface and revealing the moon-silver brilliance below. Toby pulled himself free with a curse and ended one of the skeletons with one slash. Fritz did the same with a quick slice.
Bones and picks fell, clattering.
Fritz stomped on one of the grinning skulls, breaking it into pieces. "Bastard," he hissed.
"It's undead. We're on an undead Floor," Trudge whined.
Fritz grimaced.
"Did you know?" Barge asked, accusation rife in his tone.
"Of course, he did," Bucket spat, then he continued acidly, "He's the Scout, and we should trust him."
"Both are true," Fritz said sternly. "No one has been harmed yet, so don't give in to fear or despair."
"I ain't afraid," Bucket said. "I'm frothin' mad. Why on Epsa have you led us into an undead Floor!?"
"Keep silent," Fritz ordered. "I'll explain when we're safe."
"Can we be safe with those around?" Mel asked, pointing at the bones. They twitched, and the skull Fritz had broken was sluggishly crawling back together.
"Not in these tunnels," Fritz said. "Come, there's a chamber up ahead, we can secure it against these dull things."
Turning, Fritz continued up the passage, leading the way.
Not wanting to be lost in the dark, the others soon followed. They had little choice.
Within nine minutes and after another easily thwarted ambush, they were within the room Fritz had found. They blocked the only entrance with the broken remains of a handcart, then set down their packs and sat heavily.
"Drink, eat, rest," Fritz commanded. "Then I'll tell you why I chose this Floor."
They obeyed, barely grumbling. Once their ire had been blunted with food and water, Fritz explained his reasoning.
"The other two Floors were simply more perilous," Fritz eventually concluded. "I didn't want to let you each be picked off by beasts, nor could I risk the unknown."
"You can tell so much about a Floor just by looking at its Door?" Bucket asked sceptically.
"That's a secret," Fritz said. "One our Boss wouldn't want you to know."
Bucket gulped, then remained silent, for once. In fact, the entire crew ceased asking about his particular skills and powers. That was for the best, they'd seen too much already.
The handcart rattled as a skeleton tried to hack its way in. Nail stood and, with a single swing, cleaved its skull.
"Huh," he said.
"Not so deadly, now are they?" Fritz espoused.
"No, I guess not," Nail agreed, grinning at him for the first time. "Easy."
"Still, we'll need to keep a watch. Barge, Nail, you two first," Fritz said. "I'm sure it's only a matter of time before these undead gather sufficient numbers to break in. But I suppose that'll take a while. For now, we'll Note our Treasures."
Fritz sat, then pulled the yellow sash, belt bag and a stack of Know-notes from his pack.
Although he had done this far more than once, the excitement of new Treasures, as both the items were, buoyed his beleaguered mood.
First was the bag. It was made of a light, brown leather and had stylised, black stitching patterned in the likeness of a cut diamond on its face. Without another look, he set the Know-note to it and read the burnt-in glyphs.
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Treasure
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Pouch of Many Stones
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Alignment: Metal, Space, Stone.
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Capacity: 3/9
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Abilities Imbued
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Repository of Stone
A stone, a rock, a gem or shard. Keep them close, no need to guard.
This Treasure creates an opening to an alternate space for storing stones, gems, ingots and ores.
The weight of this space is reduced by a lesser degree.
Alignment: Metal, Space, Stone.
Cost: Three.
Duration: One minute.
Refresh: One minute.
---
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Fritz stared, then narrowed his eyes. This Treasure was a wonder, a more restrictive version of a personal pack, which could be considered invaluable. It was also suspiciously suited to his own pursuits, what with his recent study of the jeweller's Technique. He would have to test how large its 'alternate space' was, but even if it was the size of a small sack, the weight reduction alone would be marvellous.
He hid his glee and quickly slid the Know-note away. He needn't share his findings with the rest of the crew.
Fritz sighed, then belted the bag to his waist, shaking his head. His performance, sadly, went unnoticed. The rest were eagerly Noting their own Treasures and chattering about what they read.
With a slight shrug, he picked up the sash and ran its smooth fabric through his fingers. It wasn't silk, but a kind of slightly-scratchy velvet. He noted it.
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Treasure
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Python Sash
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Alignment: Force, Primal.
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Capacity: 3/6
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Abilities Imbued
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Python's Grasp
Slither smoothly, hide, then slide, catching quickly, bound, and tied.
This Treasure seeks out a foe and binds them.
Alignment: Force, Primal.
Cost: Three
Duration: Thirty seconds.
Refresh: None.
---
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He tilted his head. While it seemed useful enough, it wasn't what he expected. Normally, a piece of clothing should have a boon effect instead of such an oddity. Still, he wasn't one to think poorly of the Treasure because it was simply strange. There were many uses for this item.
"What you got there?" Toby asked, smiling smugly. Obviously, he was pleased with his new dagger's Imbuement.
"A sash that binds. Here." Fritz flicked the Know-note to the man, who read it, then snorted.
"Very... adventurous."
"It's deadly," Fritz corrected.
"Mhm."
"Ooo!" Mel cried. "This ring is really something"
"This rod is powerful too," Clover said.
"Damn, this buckler's better than I thought," Reed boasted.
Trudge remained silent, looked over to Fritz, then sighed. He stood, then walked the few steps it took to get to him. He held out the boots and the Know-note he had used on them.
Fritz took the Note and read:
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Treasure
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Lightfoot Boots
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Alignment: Arcane, Force.
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Capacity: 3/6
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Abilities Imbued
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Lightfeet.
Burden's heavy? Armour's plate? Softened steps will ease the weight.
This Treasure reduces the sound made by stepping and the weight of the wearer by a minor degree.
Alignment: Arcane, Force.
Cost: Two.
Duration: One hour.
Refresh: One hour.
---
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The boots were decent and could prove useful, but he wondered why the man was offering them to him.
"I wasn't meant to have a share. Because of... because of my mistake. On the First Floor," Trudge admitted.
Fritz nodded solemnly, then smiled gently. "You passed the test. You may keep them."
"What?" Trudge asked.
"You heard me. I was testing your character. Seeing if you would follow through with your punishment," Fritz said. "You passed, and as a reward, you may keep the Treasure for now."
"Really?"
"Really."
Of course, Fritz had simply forgotten in all the chaos, but it would be better if Trudge didn't know. That, and the boots seemed like a fairly trivial Treasure. He had his own magical boots and had no desire to change them out, especially with ones so heavy and... brown. This would also earn him some easy loyalty. Nothing like a bribe to keep people on your side.
And there was the fact that Trudge didn't seem too bad a man, he had been diligent and had been following orders since his mishap. He had even sided with Fritz over his own brother. It was commendable and should be rewarded.
"Thank you," Trudge blurted. "Thank you, Captain."
Fritz smiled, then waved the man away genially. He obeyed happily.
Toby rolled his eyes. He wasn't fooled in the slightest.
Bucket, Barge and Nail watched the eager crew with frustration and envy.
"To think, if you had followed my orders, you would have had a share of the Silver Chest," Fritz said as if commiserating. "Alas."
Their frowns grew deeper and their eyes harder.
Fritz knew he shouldn't have goaded them, yet in that moment, he couldn't help himself. But he didn't let them dwell on the matter or any grudges either. "Watch the cart. I don't want a skeleton sneaking in because you're all too busy eyeing Treasures that you'll never touch."
They turned away angrily, but they had the good sense not to grumble.
"This would have been pretty useful against the knights, now that I think about it," Mel said, admiring the ruby ring gleaming on her finger.
"Oh?" Fritz intoned. "Let's have a look."
She spun the white card at him, and he caught it with a small flourish, then he read:
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Treasure
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Ring of Inner Fire
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Alignment: Boon, Fire, Mind.
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Capacity: 3/9
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Abilities Imbued
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Inner Fire
The blaze within, roaring bright, ever burning, out of sight.
Grants a lesser bonus to Resolve, Intensity, Focus and Endurance. Grants a minor resistance to cold.
Alignment: Boon, Fire, Mind.
Cost: Three.
Duration: One minute.
Refresh: One minute.
---
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Fritz frowned. It would have indeed been useful, lifesaving really, in his battle against the knight. It was another potent Treasure, one powerful enough that he desired to claim the ring as his own right there and then.
"Do you want it?" Mel asked dejectedly.
Fritz forced a charming, generous smile. "Of course, I do. It really is something, as you said. Though, for now, it's yours. Hold onto it tight."
Already, he was scheming a way to get a hold of it without her being any the wiser. Though that could come later, he had half a Climb to claim it through some sublime or simple subterfuge.
"Would you like to look at mine?" Clover asked. "My Note, I mean."
Fritz nodded, but while reaching out, he felt a terrible foreboding and a deep chill.
A spectral figure floated through the wall behind the woman.
It had the body of a man, though it was dim, transparent. Half shadow, half robed in tenebrous gossamer. A horrid, withered face stared out from a low hood, its eyes bright, black stars the light of which pierced right through the fabric. Another nauseating mark illuminated it, a mad, blood-red glyph shining sharply over its heart. Or where its heart might be, if it were living.
Its thin, pale hand grasped at the life before it, about to seize on Clover's soul.
Comments
Scarhand
I do like the little poems. Adds a lot of character to the story
Øyvin Reinvik Johannessen
Love the content!
