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Spire's Spite - Arc 3 - Chapter 15
🕑 Added 2025-02-27 02:00:06 +0000 UTCAfter sorting out some details and drinking down a few mugs, Fritz and his search party left the tavern and rejoined their team. When they found the other three they quickly explained their deal with Adam Needle, who was to be, ostensibly, their new tutor. If they proved 'good enough.'
They were striding home through the rain, when Cal asked, "What's wrong with Fritz then? You found the tutor and he agreed to teach. Why does he look so...sad?"
Fritz scowled further, but didn't answer. Neither did Bert strangely enough.
"The tutor knew his parents," George provided. "And Fritz told the awful tale of his mother's unjust murder."
"Oh," Cal said. "Sorry."
"Sorry," Rosie echoed.
They walked in the drumming rain for six minutes before anyone spoke again.
"What was he like? The tutor, I mean," Lauren asked.
"A right bastard," Fritz and Bert said together.
"Though he is skilled, that much is clear," Fritz continued. "He slipped past my guard like it was nothing. However, that might just have been the disparity between our Attributes."
"I don't think it was just that," George said. "The man's movements were sublime."
"Could have been Grace," Fritz countered, though he didn't really believe it.
"Perhaps," George allowed. "We'll see."
"When will we see?" Rosie asked eagerly.
"Tomorrow, dawn," Fritz said, grimacing.
---
Fritz awoke, it was an annoying way to wake. There was a pounding on his bedroom door.
"Get up, dawn is near!" Bert cried before his bounding footsteps stomped away.
Fritz groaned, wiped his bleary eyes and set to dressing himself in clothes he wouldn't miss if they got ruined. The hall bell rang and Bert shouted for everyone to waken.
"Always so bloody chipper in the morning," Fritz complained. He snatched up 'The Observations' from his bed, it had fallen from his chest when he had fallen asleep reading it. Then he slipped it into his Travellers Pack. For some reason, he thought it just wouldn't do to leave it out in the open.
He joined his yawning, grumbling team in the dining room where they ate a quick breakfast of fruit and rations bars. It was unpleasant compared to the cooked meals they were now used to.
"All in favour of Cal waking up earlier to cook us breakfast," Fritz said, calling a vote.
All except Cal raised their hands and said, "Aye."
"Vote passed, five to one," Fritz declared.
Cal was about to protest but there was a loud banging on the front door.
"That'll be him," Bert said.
"Now, I was warned that he was harsh, and he lived up to his reputation last night. Just bear with it. We need as much of the Climbing knowledge as we can wring out of the man's liquor-pickled brain," Fritz reminded his team.
"Yes, we know. You've told us at least nine times already," Lauren said.
"We're Golden Climbers. I don't see why we need more training," Cal grumbled.
"That's right. We're tough. Do we really need it?" Rosie asked.
Fritz frowned and was about to reply when the knocking became more insistent. He stood and answered the door instead of the complaints at the table.
Adam Needle stood in the doorway. He stood a head taller than Fritz, was wearing sturdy, greying clothes and had a pack strapped to his back. A rapier was belted at his side, its gilded hilt gleaming. Most of the man's fingers were set with various rings of many materials and styles while his wrists were also similarly adorned. Around his neck was a chain of dark metal that shimmered dully. It seemed like the man had a lot of Treasures, and one of them was a Rainshield judging from how dry he was.
"A lord answering his own door. How novel," Adam observed.
"Mr Needle," Fritz said amiably, disguising his dislike. "Come on in, my team is positively eager to meet you."
"You'll call me Sir while I'm your tutor," Adam stated.
"Have you decided to take us on then?" Fritz asked.
"Not yet, I have to see if you're worth my time and expertise," He replied.
"Then I'll call you Sir once the accord has been struck," Fritz stated, smiling blandly.
Adam frowned, "Already such disrespect. I should turn around and leave."
"Maybe you should, I'm already beginning to reconsider if we wouldn't be better off with someone else. We are Silver and Golden Climbers after all."
"You are are you? You didn't mention that before," Adam asked, then he yawned. "Well, it matters not. You want the best tutor and I am the best."
"In Rain City," Fritz corrected.
The man frowned further, but Fritz could see the man's beard twitch as if he were suppressing a smirk.
"In Rain City," he agreed. "But as we're both stuck here, I'm the best you'll find."
"Stuck here?" Fritz asked.
Adam waved the question away. "Are you going to let me in or not?"
"Come in," Fritz allowed, leading the bulky man through the hall and into the dining room.
The team were sitting apprehensively, save Bert who simply grinned at the man.
"Whoa! You're big," Rosie said.
"Rosie, be polite," Lauren chided.
"Just sayin'," Rosie said.
"Thank you. I am big," Adam said. "I worked hard for it, and it's nice you noticed. I like you most."
Rosie grinned and Lauren pursed her lips.
"Only six of you?" Adam asked the expectant team.
"Correct," Fritz said.
"Roles?"
"Rose and Bert are Defenders. George and Lauren are Strikers. Cal is support, and I'm the Scout and Captain," Fritz provided.
"Who's your second?"
"Bert," Fritz said.
Adam nodded.
"What are your goals? Are you content with Climbing the Mer spire again and again? Or do you have your eyes set higher?"
"Higher," Fritz answered with certainty.
Adam nodded in what could only be approval.
"Well, let's see what you lot can do. Let's take this to the yard and I'll test each of you individually."
They nodded and followed him out into the large yard. The ground was covered in springy clover and was surrounded by a high wall of stone that blocked the view in and out. Next door there were the sounds of metal on metal. Obviously, the team that lived beside them were also partaking in some early training.
"It's a bit small, but it'll do for now," Adam noted. "Where are the training weapons? Where are the weights?"
"Uh... we haven't purchased any yet," Fritz admitted.
"You should get right on that, you'll need them whether I decide to tutor you or not," he advised.
Fritz looked to Lauren who nodded in acknowledgement.
"You have no Healer, you'll also need to purchase healing supplies. Accidents happen," Adam informed them.
"We have some of those in the pantry," Lauren said.
"You're the team's quartermaster?" He asked.
"For now," Lauren allowed.
He nodded.
"We can speak more on organisation later. But you should have a pack or satchel filled with healing aids and you should have it close at hand when ever you train."
Lauren nodded, seeing the sense.
Adam waited as they all gathered in the rain. He didn't speak, just stared at Lauren.
Eventually she got the message, "Did you want me to do that now?"
"Yes. Fool. Do it now."
"Fine," Lauren said.
For some minutes, they waited. Adam rubbed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly he was suffering from a small hangover. He sighed and dropped his pack next to the door, where it would be out of the way.
When Lauren reappeared, it was with her own travellers pack. She set it down right by Adam's own.
"Good. We can begin. You first, Lord Hightide," Adam said, striding into the centre of the yard, then drawing his blade.
Seeing the thin steel, Fritz got a sense of how the man had received his name. Compared to the large hands and powerfully built arms of Adam, the rapier looked incongruously small, like a long needle, giving off the impression of an enormous hornet with a sharp, slender stinger.
Fritz expected the man to posture, to hold his blade lazily and taunt him like any other with greater power might. But there was nothing of the sort in Adam's demeanour. He was deadly serious from the start. Every movement was solid, studied and terribly efficient. Adam took his stance impeccably, sword up and ready to engage his foe.
"Any rules? Should I use my Abilities?" Fritz asked, pulling his own blade free.
"Use everything you have," Adam allowed.
"Should I not wear armour?" He asked
"That's what the healing supplies are for. And if you're afraid of some small cuts you're not 'cut' out for my training."
Fritz ignored the pun, nodded and drew Mortal Edge with his off-hand. He didn't intend to use its curse, he'd just grown used to fighting with it, and its cool weight was an odd comfort.
Adam raised an eyebrow, then Fritz pounded forward.
Pulling on the cold power humming inside his chest, Fritz conjured a globe of Illusory shadow around the man's face. The cast was nearly instantaneous, but Adam immediately dodged to the side, trying to slip out of the darkness's reach. Luckily the Ability's most recent Evolution, Adhesive Gloom, had rendered it impossible to escape in that manner. The orb stuck to the man like a glob of black, wobbling glue.
Lethargy was next, the curse quickly woven over his foe.
Fritz grinned and stabbed forward in a long lunge, taking advantage of Adam's distraction. He took no chances, gloom slid out from his centre and covered his sword in whispering shade as he closed in. In a blur of shining steel, the man parried blindly. Unerringly, Adam's blade sought Fritz's and caught it. Their blades clashed and Quicksilver was pushed to the side with a clang.
At the same time, a ring on the man's hand flared with bright light that burned away much of the shadow clinging to his face. Adam cursed and the ring brightened again, banishing what was left of the Illusory Shadow.
Fritz struck out with Mortal Edge, a straight stab for the man's gut. Again he was parried and he felt the warning of a cut upon his chest. He stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the sword's tip and replying with his own thrust. He empowered his attack with Gloom Strike again, but Adam could see it coming and deflected it with ease.
The man twisted his wrist in a well-practised, precise manner. And with the sound of the grinding of steel on steel, Fritz felt Quicksilver thrown from his hand. Danger Sense whined, and Fritz dived towards his still tumbling blade, slipping just under another stab.
Fritz seized the moonsilver hilt and rolled away from a piercing blow that would have impacted his upper arm. Leaping to his feet, he summoned another Illusory Shadow over the man's head. It drained the last of his Dusksong and ate into his Stamina. He had nearly forgotten its far higher cost and suffered for it. He began to pant and his body shook for a second.
Adam stood still and didn't say a word, his face drowned in shadow. Fritz began to circle, slipping quietly to the man's flank. Adam showed no sign of noticing his slow approach, simply holding his blade ready.
Fritz knew this was his last chance to make an impression, but his mana was empty and his attacks had done little so far. He wouldn't be able to rely on his Umbral Phase so he'd have to go all out with a flurry of precise strikes. He embraced his Grace, concentrated on his Awareness and stepped into the needle's range.
Adam didn't move, he waited.
Fritz slashed and stabbed, slicing a rhythm of cuts. Each strike was repelled with ringing parries. Although the man was blind, it made no difference in his defence, it felt like he was predicting the angles of attack, foiling Fritz's blades. When the darkness dissipated, Danger Sense screamed. Fritz ignored the predictive pains and set to tear a hole in the man's still undamaged tunic.
He redoubled his efforts, refining his movements further and falling deeper into that intuitive battle trance that was all prediction, action and reaction. Quicksilver sparked against the Needle, Mortal Edge whistled through the wind, finding no flesh. After a flourish, a feint and another flurry, Adam had to move or take a cut.
Fritz nearly had him. It was almost enough. A gleam entered Adam's grey eyes and he parried, then riposted. Fritz tried to dodge, but the blade was unavoidable. His Danger Sense didn't even warn him until the point of Adam's sword was an inch away from his skin.
A small cut, right through the cloth of his shirt. The stinging line only pushed Fritz to fight further, but he was outclassed. Instead of fighting fair, Fritz employed every dirty trick he had, hoping the man hadn't seen some of the low blows before. That only caused Adam to smirk as he expertly defended his legs, feet and nethers.
Another cut, along Fritz's thigh in recompense for his attempted honourless assaults.
Fritz panted, his chest heaved and he stepped back, creating some space.
"Done?' Adam asked with no hint of derision in his tone.
Fritz considered his options. He could activate his Treasures, but would it make a difference? Would it be worth the gold just to prove a point? Just to satiate his pride?
"Too slow!" Adam cried, interrupting his thoughts.
Fritz parried the obvious lunge with his dagger, but his deflection's direction was changed and Mortal Edge was forced from his grip. Another cut scored, this one along the back of his hand.
"Done," Adam said, it was no longer a question. He sheathed his blade.
Fritz scowled, though soon smoothed his features. He was angry at his performance, but also felt a grudging respect for the man's skill taking root in his chest.
"Your fencing is slipshod and amateurish. Your body needs work, you have arms like a scarecrow and legs like a starved stalk. Your steps are too loud, your gait too grinding. And you're not using your Attributes or Abilities to their full potential. Also, you're slow. Maybe an imbecile. All in all, you're no good."
"Did I do anything right?" Fritz groused, trying not to let the tirade of unfair insults perturb him.
"No," Adam said. "You're lacking in every respect. Especially respect. Honestly, I can't believe you're even a noble."
"Great," Fritz sighed. "I take it you won't take me on then?"
"Not as a sword tutor," Adam said.
"Why not?" Fritz asked heatedly.
Adam's brow took on a contemplative bent and he stared at him for nearly twelve seconds.
"You said you're a Scout?"
"Yes."
"Scouts aren't expected to be able to fight as well as Defenders and Strikers. It would be a waste. Why teach a fish to leap?"
Fritz had nothing to say to such a statement, because it was true. He should be focusing on his strengths. Most of his points were his sensory Attributes with only a smattering in other areas, and trying to become a more potent fencer shouldn't be one of his priorities. Yet he still desired it, he wanted to be a great swordsman. It didn't matter if it wasn't his true calling.
"This fish will fly," Bert said, striding to Fritz's side.
"Impossible," Adam stated. Though when he met Fritz's determined gaze, he amended his words. "Fine, I'll give you a test. We'll duel again in a week. If you can land a cut, I'll teach you the sword. For now, it's you next. Bert, wasn't it?"
"That's right," he proclaimed. "Let's fight."
---
Adam's fight with Bert was a bloody affair that the tutor called a stop to quickly after taking the madman's measure. Bert was smiling smugly, arms crossed over his chest and covered in quickly healing cuts. He hadn't brought Dale into the battle, stating that the snail was still 'too young' for fighting.
"You get hit too much, and your brawling is middling at best. Your muscles are undeveloped, weak and unsightly. You're even slower than your friend, which is saying something, seeing as I don't believe he can count as high as nine. A wretched performance. I should say go back to the fighting rings, but you might just be better off selling those fists in a brothel."
Bert just grinned at the words which made the man nod and wave him away, calling on the next of their group.
Adam cursed up a fury when he was almost burned by the blanket of fire Lauren produced from her lips. He was only saved by another of his Treasures. Great plumes of steam floated into the sky. Dashing forward, he repaid her deadly fire breath by slapping her hip with the flat of his blade. She cried out in shock more than pain, her face reddening from the rude treatment. She tried to incinerate him once more, but he sidestepped the gout of flame, smacking her again with his sword, this time on the outside of her upper thigh.
It went on like that until the woman was panting, red faced and furious. She coughed slightly as Adam berated her.
"Your Ability is great. It's a true waste that it's attached to you. I thought Bert would be the most skill-less skulg here, but my expectations led me astray. You are the worst. All the unfounded confidence of an idle noble yet none of the poise, dignity or prowess. You don't even have the excuse of their blood and station. I'm embarrassed for you. Also, your eyebrows are uneven."
Lauren fumed and it looked like she was going to spew forth flame again, but she held back, gave the man a sharp nod and strode away. Rosie watched on with grim glee, which Lauren noticed. In a huff, the fire mage stalked into the house and slammed the door behind her.
"Stop grinning those ugly teeth, Fishface, you're next," Adam said.
Rosie nodded and walked closer to the man. Wielding her magic hatchet and Treasure war pick, she charged. She shrieked out her battle scream and the man's eye twitched as the wave of sound crashed into him. Still, he fended off her flurry. He did so easily, gracefully and tested the hardness of her scales with his blade's edge, before sending her tumbling with a shoulder barge.
"Your technique, like you, is foul. Completely unrefined and brutish. A skulg would be a better student than you and thrice as graceful. Still, you can take a hit, which will be useful, because with your absence of skill and lack of any wit or guile, you will be hit. A lot."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it. I'm an ugly, stupid bitch. Got anything else to say?" Rosie said, letting the words wash over her like rain.
"If you get it; do something about it," Adam replied scathingly. "A bag over the head would work wonders. And reading a book isn't a crime."
"Hey! That's my sister you're talking to!" Cal yelled, striding up to him.
"I know that. Are you also slow? Nevermind. Don't hurt yourself answering. Anyway you're next, you better do better than the rest of these dregs. Though I don't hold out much hope."
Adam was soon being annoyed by Cal's strategy of running around, just out of reach and throwing guided stones. The rocks seemed easy enough for the man to deflect, but Fritz could tell he despised the style if it could be called as such, completely.
"Alright, that's enough," Adam said, snatching a stone out of the air, tossing it back and sending it soaring straight into Cal's knee.
The Hauler cried out in pain and tripped over onto the clover. Adam didn't give him another look. "Absolutely abysmal. I thought I'd seen the worst with your horrible sister, but no, you are the worst. A total coward, and not even a cunning one. As blunt as your choice of weapon. You, in the armour, you're up!"
George approached eagerly, while Cal limped out of the way still wincing more from the words than the wound.
George extended his sword to its longest length and held it at the ready, taking on the solid stance of the Peak Splitter Technique. The edge of the blade leaked with sharp light and upon seeing this Adam held up a hand forestalling the fight.
"No," he ordered. "Get a pair of training swords from my bag."
"What? Why?" George asked.
"Because I'm fond of my sword and I don't want you to notch it with your Sharpen Blade and whatever other Abilities you might possess," Adam said.
"You think I could?" George asked proudly.
"Not really, but it's not worth the risk. Now hop to it!"
George obeyed and soon they were standing opposite each other blunt training blades in their hands. The dull lengths of metal looked heavy and were about as long as a grown man's arm.
Fritz frowned, annoyed that he hadn't been deemed such a threat that the man refused to fight with real weapons, as was the case here.
George's training sword gleamed with that white glow again and Adam's followed suit, though the light of his Ability had a brighter, finer edge.
They nodded to one another respectfully, then they clashed.
George rushed forward, then chopped down with his sword.
Adam didn't bother parrying, he stepped to the side, dodging the attack entirely. The blade sank into the ground. There was a clang when the needle struck the side of an armoured chest. The man frowned, seemingly he felt that he should be able to score the dull iron plate. Sever screamed as George swept the training blade up in a diagonal slash.
Adam dived around the blow and his sword caught George in a gap in his armour, right around his knee. George grunted and lowered his blade, knowing his defeat.
"Good Abilities, solid stance, but your swordsmanship is beyond amateurish. I would think you a serf if not for your strong arms. What idiot taught you how to use a sword?"
"I'm self-taught," George admitted.
"Only the biggest idiot then. And it seems you haven't even learnt the first lesson of swordsmanship," Adam ranted.
"And what's that?"
"The sword is not a hammer, or an axe or a pick. It is not a tool that has been repurposed for battle like the others. The sword is forged with one intention. Killing. Remember that when you swing. You're not trying to split a log, but a living, breathing man."
George nodded and held his tongue, it was obvious he wanted to object but didn't want to look more a fool.
"What?" Adam grumbled.
"I was actually picturing splitting a mountain," George admitted.
Adam looked at him incredulously, then laughed heartily.
"Keep your mind on what you're fighting," Adam said. "I may be big, but I'm no mountain."
George nodded.
"Go gather your mage. One more test then I'll decide if you're all worth teaching."
Fritz nodded and set off into the house. When he entered he could hear a soft thumping, he at first thought it was Lauren taking out her frustrations on the furniture, but soon realised the sound was coming from the front door.
Puzzled, he strode over and he opened it. There, standing in the doorway, was a young lady in a raincoat over a functional black workdress. Beside her, a large trunk sat, half of it being splattered by rain as it poked out from under the small awning built into the arch of the door.
Cassandra, the maid he had forgotten he had hired, looked up and wore an expression that was on the verge of despair. Fritz felt some guilt and wondered how long she had been there, knocking without a response.
She curtsied quickly.
Fritz signed an apology, and she tilted her head, then signed back.
"What?"
"Sorry," Fritz said aloud, correcting his gesture. In his haste, he had accidentally slipped into his thief's signals rather than the proper core of Climber's signs that all knew and practised. "It completely slipped my mind that you would be arriving."
She nodded as if it happened all the time. It likely did, the quiet were oft forgotten.
"Come on in," Fritz offered.
She did, dragging her trunk into the hall, then she hung her coat and dried herself.
"Leave your things, I'll get Cal to carry that in for you. Come with me, your room is this way," Fritz added.
He led her to the servant's quarters that he hadn't known they'd had until Lauren had informed him a night or two earlier. It was on the first floor and when he opened its door he was dismayed. The room was little larger than his own walk-in closet, with a meagre bed and a thin mattress. There was very little in the way of comfort, the only thing that redeemed it was the fact it had a window.
"You know, we have some larger rooms upstairs. They're ostensibly for Climbers. Though as they're empty, and no one would know, you could have one of those instead," Fritz said with a sly smile.
She shook her head vehemently, signing something quickly.
"No. Not proper. This will do."
He could catch most of what she signed, but he hadn't studied the more specific and expansive sign vocabulary since he was a child, at the insistence of his father. He likely missed most of the nuance and was interpreting mainly with intuition. He, like most people, just used the most common signs derived from the language. Still, he tried his best to understand her and thought to brush up on the signs later. He'd have to buy a manual.
There were so many things to learn, not just Climbing and fighting.
"If you're sure," Fritz allowed.
She nodded, smiling politely.
"I'd give you a quick tour of the house and an outline of your duties. However, I currently have a tutor to attend and I don't want to keep him waiting. You may stay here or take comfort in the lounge until you're summoned."
She nodded again.
"Any questions?" He asked.
"Any tasks I can do now?" She signed.
"None that I can think of," Fritz said.
He began to turn, but she knocked lightly on the wall to catch his attention.
He glanced to her.
"One last thing," she signed slowly. "Thank you, Lord."
Then she curtsied as low as she could manage.
"You're welcome," Fritz said bowing slightly.
He turned and this time was uninterrupted as he made his way up the stairs.
Fritz found Lauren in front of a tall mirror. She must have bought it and brought it in herself, as he had nothing of the sort in his own room. She was grumbling and tilting her face this way and that, staring hard at her striking reflection.
"Lauren," Fritz said. "Adam wants all of us for a test."
"I don't care! He is a vile, cruel, old man," Lauren spat. "I'd rather be taught by a squid than a crusty drunk like him."
"Fair," Fritz said, having had some of the same thoughts. "But he's the best we can find. One last test and we'll either be rid of him or we'll be learning what we need. Becoming far more powerful than we could on our own."
Lauren sighed.
"You're right. Though does he have to be so vicious?"
"Probably not. However, I suspect that this is another of his tests. How much belittlement and brutal criticism will we endure to get strong? Are we likely to just give up if things are too hard or he's too cruel? That sort of trial."
"That's stupid," Lauren said.
"It is," Fritz agreed. "Are you coming?"
Lauren sighed again.
"I'm coming."
---
When they were gathered in the yard again, Adam handed out training weapons from his pack and instructed them to try and take him down as they would a powerful beast.
"All of us, all at once?" Cal asked sceptically.
"That's right, come at me," Adam said surely.
"Any rules?" Bert asked, stretching an arm across his body.
"Not really. You can use Abilities, but be careful of your team. There's no Well at the end of the floor to heal you up here, so any injuries will linger," Adam warned.
"What about you? What if you're hurt?" Lauren asked, feigning concern. It looked like she relished the chance to inflict some revenge.
"I'll be fine."
With that, he signalled to start.
Comments
Malcolm Haynes
Great chapter! Thanks!
yohan gu
I want him to train them even only to read his insults. May he stay creative
Venno
Being a jerk must be how he shows love. The insults were fantastic.
