Octophobia
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Spire's Spite - Arc 3 - Chapter 33
🕑 Added 2025-05-01 03:00:04 +0000 UTCFritz and his fellows made their way down to the Sunken Ring, then wove their way through its tangled streets and alleys. The rain was light, and though dawn slowly approached, it was still the deep dark of night. The gutters gurgled and the distinct odour of mildew and mould wafted from the dilapidated buildings that flanked them as they walked ever further into the slums.
Fritz kept his eyes wide and his ears open, watching for the trouble that was sure to be lurking. Fortunately, each of the trio cut a formidable figure and all the small-time thieves and muggers that infested the desperate district were reluctant to accost them. It was to be expected, they strode with confidence born of strength. In the past weeks, over their Climbs, they had filled out from the combination of plentiful food and constant struggle and no longer resembled their former staving, stick-thin selves.
That wasn't all, although it was slight, thanks to their recently adopted regimens, they had grown even further. Bert was now bordering on bulky and Fritz's own muscles had thickened, having been long since cured of his spindle-itis.
Toby hadn't benefited nearly as much and looked to be the same thin long limbed youth he had always been. Though he did now have an air of rigidity and a solid stride, it was like he was carved of marble rather than the driftwood he had previously resembled.
He would turn his flinty, flitting gaze at every shadowed nook, glancing glares at the hunched, leering figures that lurked within. Those thugs who would seek to rob them for the simple comforts of the clothes on their back and the boots on their feet. They slunk back as they saw that the trio were armed and unafraid. The would-be muggers muttered cursed and spat, keeping an eye out for more suitable marks.
It angered Fritz, he was certain they would wait to find weaker prey to torment. Some beggar, child or denizen down on their luck. He wanted to warn them off, menace them and plant a fear in their very spirits. He said as much to Bert, who shook his head.
"You know we can't go beating the ink out of them," he said. "You'd just be sowing grudges. Those grow easily down here, the only thing that really flourishes in the gutters."
"Who are you quoting?" Fritz asked, finding the words more thoughtful than Bert's usual fare.
"Hmm, no one in particular," Bert said, stroking a stubbled chin. "Why? Did I sound wise?"
"You did," Fritz allowed.
"Good, because I have to become a good mentor for Dale," Bert claimed, grinning. The beast, upon hearing its name, whistled from under his vest.
"You brought that snail with you?" Toby asked, only just noticing the strange bulge.
"That's right," Bert said. "There was a book that said I should be trying to let Dale experience more of the world than just my room. See, I shouldn't have him cooped up all day and night in his bowl. No matter how content he seems with all his tasty tasty salt. The book also said that if I want him to be a clever beast this sort of stuff is the bare minimum."
"And that's what you want? A clever beast? Can't say I see the point," Toby stated.
"Why not?" Bert replied.
"It just needs to be able to follow orders," Toby said. "Anything else may make it a worse servant."
Bert shook his head and gave Fritz a look that said he pitied the man. "So tyrannical. He'd be a slaver in another life."
"I would not," Toby growled. "I ain't that kind of scum."
"Quiet, we're close," Fritz said.
"How can you tell?" Toby said softly.
"I just can," Fritz said. He wasn't about to explain the impressions Awareness provided. Not while they were being watched, which he could sense keenly.
There was a lookout in the window, he caught the flickering of their furtive shadow as they ran from their spot, likely to report to whichever gang they served.
They heeded his words and the bickering came to a hasty halt as they approached. Silently they strode and soon as they were in sight of the tenements that comprised Sid's territory.
The alleys were bare here, until the last crossroads which had a number of thugs, toughs and cutthroats loitering within. Some were sitting, some were drinking and some gambled on tables made of crates, all attempting to alleviate their obvious boredom.
One spotted their approach and gave a piercing whistle which alerted the rest to their presence. Bleary eyes and hard glares fell on the trio, those stares grew steadily more apprehensive, eager even, as they drew closer.
Fritz knew they could have snuck past these besiegers, but thought it prudent to put on a show of power and reinforce their reputations as men not to be messed with. He suspected it would save them a lot of hassle in the long run.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" One tall Browncoat said as he and his fellows blocked their way.
There were twelve thugs in total each armed with an assortment of weapons, mostly daggers axes and cudgels and they were armoured in assorted protections ranging from thick leathers to one particularly rusty set of ill-fitting chain mail. Three of these ruffians, the mail-clad man included, were in brown coats.
Fritz wasn't too worried, none seemed to be carrying Treasures.
"Bert, I think you will be best for negotiating with these fine folk," Fritz suggested, planning on relying on what notoriety Bert had built in the fighting rings to get them through without bloodshed.
"'Fine folk' is it?" Another of the Browncoats sneered. This one was a woman clad in a rainsteel breastplate over leather. "Who are you? What gang? You're not with that bastard Sid are you?"
"Piss off before I break your bones," Bert said, not breaking his stride and ploughing into the gang.
"Oi, where do you think you're going!" One of the riff-raff shouted as Bert pushed past him.
"Where ever I damn well please!" Bert yelled, right in his face.
Though the thugs were startled by his brazen belligerence it only took them a second to gather their lacking wits and act.
The tall Browncoat put a hand on Bert's shoulder and received a punch in the face as repayment. It looked almost effortless on Bert's part, a quick short jab that, with a crunch, sent the man sprawling, blood pouring from a broken nose. The thugs scrambled back, drawing weapons.
"What did you do that for?" The Browncoat in chain-mail cried, pulling free a sword. "Don't you know what these coats mean!? We work for the Nightshark you fool! You're dead and drowned once they hear about this."
"I don't care," Bert said. "Tell them. I bet they like me more than you sorry lot."
"They did seem rather interested in you, Bert," Fritz agreed.
That claim had the bloodthirsty gang glance to each other worriedly.
"Did he say Bert?" One thug hissed.
"Bloody Bert?" One asked in dismay. Expressions of recognition and then the following dread leapt from one face to another.
"Good, you've heard of me. Now get out of my way," Bert said jovially, grinning like the madman he was.
While the gang considered their choice, Fritz wove Lethargy over the two still-standing Browncoats.
A flurry of signs and signals rippled through the thugs until they decided to make way.
"Alright, alright, no need to get vicious. Ain't no one stopping ya," the Browncoat said, backing away steadily. And so saying, the gang returned to their alleys, parting like a muddy curtain.
Even the man with the broken nose retreated, though though glared through teary eyes and grumbled whistling curses.
The trio passed through unscathed, and it was good they could, because Fritz had the vague sense that another gang was approaching them from behind and they would have soon been flanked by the two groups.
Striding swiftly, though not so fast as to seem like they were fearful, the trio passed into Sid's territory, only to be spotted by another lookout, this one a child that leapt up from his hiding place in an alcove and sprinted towards the tallest tenement.
"Guess that's where we're headed," Toby observed.
"Quite correct," Fritz said and they followed in the boy's wake.
They found their way to a small square before the tall building and stopped in its centre waiting for Sid to show herself.
They didn't wait long. A dark shape leapt from a window high above and descended like a swooping stormhawk.
Before the figure struck the ground a burst of air slowed their fall and caused their cloak to flap wildly in the sudden gust. Boots met the stone with a thud and Sid straightened, pulling her hood away. She was wearing proper leather armour and had a new shortsword and the Deep Quiver belted at her waist. That belt was the same one she'd claimed in the Spire, though the white scales had been darkened with some kind of coating of oil or charcoal.
She smiled at Fritz and Bert, but it fell away when she noticed Toby.
"What's he doing here?" She asked in that low gruff tone she affected when not alone with Fritz.
"He offered his help," Fritz said. "And we need it."
"Can we trust him?" She asked. "Last time I saw him he left you two to die. Left us all to die."
"Can we trust you, Toby?" Fritz asked blandly.
"Sure, you can trust me," Toby said. Although Fritz could hear the ring of truth the other two looked on doubtfully.
Sid turned to Fritz and he nodded, affirming the validity of the words.
She sighed. "Fine, thanks for the help then."
Toby nodded, but was surprised by the easy acceptance. Then glancing between the two, smiled knowingly.
Sid narrowed her eyes and his face dropped.
"Shall we continue?" Fritz asked.
"Right, this way," Said said, leading them into the tall tenement and up the creaking stairs.
Soon they were high up on the sixth floor, in a room, or rather a trio of rooms whose walls had been knocked down to make one larger space. In the centre was a long table set with rough chairs and in them were five people, most were women, though two were men, one old and one younger.
The older of the two was wizened and weary, but the light hadn't gone out of his grey eyes, not yet. What little of his hair remained was snow white and he smiled as Sid approached her place at the head of the table.
"Ah, Sid, you're back," he said. His voice wasn't a feeble wheeze like Fritz would have expected, it was a rough rumble. In his earlier days he likely boomed like a foghorn. "These are the 'protectors' you were talking about?"
"That's right," Sid said, sitting.
"They're very handsome," A greying matronly woman professed. She wore a woollen shawl over a low-necked dress that was too fancy for the gutters but too cheap for the Upper ring. Her fingers were set with gaudy rings and her neck was wrapped with a string of pearls. Those pearls looked to be the only genuine wealth the woman had, as the gemstones had the obvious gleam of cut glass.
"Absolutely lovely. If I was still in the business, I'd have them pulling in the gold. The tall one could pass for a noble, and we all know how much someone would pay for a tumble with such a proud-looking lad."
"I know I would, Madam Maddeldone," another of the women replied. This one was younger, in her early thirties, and she was similarly dressed to the woman who had just spoken. "Though I don't know I would be able to give him up for others to use. I'd want him all to myself and he looks like like the type who gets attached. The poor boy would pout and plead. And I hate saying no."
She was bleached blonde, lovely and smiled a charming smile while gazing upon him with smouldering blue eyes.
Fritz smiled back blandly and she glanced to the men beside him, looking at each in turn. Bert grinned and winked once while Toby stared on gloomily.
Sid cleared her throat, forestalling further comments.
"Are you done, Lady Fare?" Sid asked.
"Ah, sorry, Sid," She apologised.
"No matter. Anyway, this is Fritz, Bert and Toby," Sid said.
"I've heard of them," the younger of the two men burst out.
He was on the edge of Tolling age, he must have just missed the previous one by a hair. He had short dark blonde locks and while he wasn't starved, had that too thin look about him.
"Yeah?" Sid asked.
"Yeah, if that's Bloody Bert and Toby Blades then I've heard of them plenty," the boy said eagerly. "Fearsome reputations."
"What about me?" Fritz inquired.
"Aren't you the mad one? Not much being said about you I'm afraid. And I hear a lot," he said. "It's strange, cause you're meant to be one of the Nightshark's favourites, same as Sid."
It was an oddity, but Fritz supposed it wasn't anything too nefarious, he had up and left the districts to their own devices. Any infamy he had was foremost amongst his cohort, many of whom had been seized and thrown into the Sunken Spire, never to be seen again.
Then again, his Awareness was telling him something different, he got the impression that there was a conspiracy at play, and it was centred on the Nightshark. Perhaps it was her doing that he wasn't spoken of. Did she want to keep him hidden, a secret like her Spire?
"Is that so?" Fritz asked.
"Yeah," the boy replied, grinning with a smile full of uneven teeth.
"You're the one who leads the lookouts and the listeners then?" Fritz guessed.
"You got it, no one better than me to squid out secrets," he boasted.
"Enough, Ern," Sid said.
The boy subsided, suitably chastised by both the words and the frustrated stare she sent his way.
"Right, these three are here to help," Sid said. "Go to Fritz if you need anything, he's to take my place for now. Consider the other two muscle."
"Are they strong?" Lady Fare asked.
Sid hesitated.
"Deadly," Fritz assured.
"Hmm," she hummed, as if not sure she believed him.
"They're stronger than me, that's why they're here," Sid said, dispelling any doubts.
"Are we to listen to them because they're strong?" the third and last of the women sitting there asked. She was in a clean, if worn, work dress, and her face like her clothes and styling was plain. Slight wrinkles creased the edges of her face, her hands were calloused and she had a sturdy frame.
"Yes," Sid said. "And because he'll do well by you. As I have."
While the woman's gaze was sceptical, she accepted the statement.
From there Sid introduced those sitting more properly, including those whose names hadn't been mentioned. There was Lady Fair, Madam Madeline and Janet Washer were pillars amongst the women who came from the lower walks of life. The working girls, seamstresses, fishers and laundresses who lived in Sid's territory had worries and it was these three that she had chosen to listen to them and inform her of their troubles.
The two men, Old Graf and the young Earnest, with the help of the more motherly inclined women, wrangled the children, either teaching the orphans and runaways, or putting them to use as runners, rowers and spies. There was also one other man missing for the moment, either busy or sleeping.
As Sid explained more of the goings on of the territory and who was in charge of what, Fritz found himself respecting her further and further. However, he also noticed that the organisation of the territory and their respective responsibilities were familiar. It was obvious that the loose leadership structure took great inspiration from the text of 'The Observations'.
Fritz smiled, glad she had found a way to employ its lessons more thoroughly than he could himself. He wondered if she had, in applying the philosophies considered in the Technique, reached a higher mastery than himself. Unfortunately, there was no time to ask.
She had just finished the introductions when Bert interrupted her.
"Dawn's coming," he said.
"How long?" She asked. with a frown.
"Half an hour."
She nodded, then stood.
"I have to go, work out the rest yourselves. Fritz come with me," she said.
Fritz followed and they left the room together. Sid began to speak, low and insistent.
"I trust you to keep the peace. Do not go to war with the other gangs."
"We could handle them easily," Fritz boasted. "Break that siege in a matter of minutes."
"You could. And that would unite all the others against you, and the Nightshark will take away her protection. And then the people living here would suffer for it. I can't have that," Sid stated. "The rules are clear, if they don't step into my territory or harm my people then they shouldn't be touched."
"What about the Scarlet Storm? Didn't that tumultuous tempest blow all over the districts? Butchering those most brutal, evil, gangs," Fritz asked, giving her a sly smile.
Sid stared at him, neither proud nor shamed, her blue eyes cold, duller than usual.
"That was against the rules, and I paid for it," she said touching her cheek, lightly tracing the stitched cuts. "And that storm sleeps for now."
Fritz nodded, continuing to follow Sid down some damp stairs and into a dripping room where a familiar traveller's pack sat against a wall. She lifted, then shouldered the bulging pack. From there she checked her gear one last time then turned to Fritz.
"Thanks," she said, and after checking the room for spies she embraced him. "Thank you," she repeated in a near whisper. "Keep them safe. And please, please, keep yourself safe too."
"I will," Fritz promised.
She reluctantly pulled away and they shared one last kiss before she strode away.
Fritz watched her go and desperately wanted to follow, but again their paths had separated.
He sighed, then after wallowing in self-pity for a minute or two, he straightened. Now that he was alone and had nothing occupying his attention, he glanced around what had to be Sid's room. There were leaks in the walls, some patches of floorboards had gone to rot and the smell of mould permeated the air. There was a bed or rather a nest made of rags.
Fritz shook his head, despairing at the conditions she had been subjecting herself to and made sure to see what he could do to improve her quarters. Leaving the sad sight behind he made his way to the meeting room and the sound of laughter.
It annoyed him, he just finished saying a mournful goodbye and here they were joking. He suppressed the anger and strode into the room.
Bert was posing and pointing one bulging bicep, boasting about the long scar that ran across it. "And his one here was from a hound, bit me something fierce before I was able to best it."
His audience seemed impressed by his story, especially the women.
"Wow, may I touch it?" Lady Fare asked, fluttering her eyelashes.
"You may," Bert allowed, leaning forward.
"Not now," Fritz said, interrupting as she reached for him. "We have many subjects to discuss."
"Where should we start?" Old Graf asked.
"Well, let's start with the 'siege'," Fritz said. "Who's responsible?"
"It's an alliance of four local gangs," Ern piped up. Then after some pointed questions from Fritz and Toby, he explained all he knew. It wasn't all too much as he and his lookouts didn't venture far from Sid's block, but what they had seen was helpful in picturing the battlefield in Fritz's mind.
"Do we have a map?" Fritz asked.
"No," Ern said.
"How are you getting food and coin?" Fritz asked.
"There are passages that the gangs don't know about, or are too big to fit in," Ern said proudly.
"Most are allowed to come and go. Those who do honest work that is," Mrs. Washer said with a scornful glace to the two other women.
Lady Fare rolled her eyes and the Madam simply smiled.
"Is that true?" Fritz asked.
"It's almost true," Madam Madeline said. "There are some working girls who can pass by the gangs, they were never 'owned' by any of the bosses. But many of the girls here are refugees, fleeing from the horrible conditions those gangs kept them in and the dusts and tonics they fed to them."
Fritz scowled as his anger rose. It was all too easy to keep a blind eye to all that happened down in the districts, but now he was being made aware, it boiled his blood. Madam Madeline saw his expression and recognised his righteous fury, a warmth entered her eyes, but her face was one filled with pity and condescension.
"It's just how it is. Flying into a rage won't help anyone," she said. "Sid understood that. Though the Scarlet Storm took exception. But look where that landed him. And us."
Fritz sighed and pushed the fury down. He could make use of it later, or sooner if his predictions about the course of the coming day were proved correct.
Fritz nodded. "Did Sid recruit any Levelers or Pathers, apart from us?"
"There are a couple, but they're not real fighters," Old Graf replied. "They mostly keep to themselves and their families, only patrolling out when Sid's asleep or away."
"I'll have to meet them," Fritz stated. "Though that can come later."
"Why are you asking so many questions about all that?" Mrs. Washer asked worriedly. "Are you expecting trouble?"
"I am," Fritz said. "Sid's gone and if they don't know that already they soon will."
His pronouncement quieted the other conversations at the table, silencing Bert and Lady Fair's flirting.
"What do you think will happen?" The madam asked.
"They'll attack," Fritz said. "I'm sure of it."
That soured their faces further.
"The first one will be to test the waters," Fritz said grimly, and adding a touch of Dusksong he continued. "I intend to make it bloody. And they can be the chum."
This statement, dramatic as it was startled the entire table, save Toby and Bert who nodded.
"For now, my plan is to have one of us three here at all times. We'll stay in watches," Fritz said. "We each have other commitments, but we'll do our best to protect you."
Fritz expected worry at his words but the leader merely nodded in agreement.
When Lady Fare saw his slight surprise she explained, "Sid wasn't here all the time. He had things to do and people to see. Some say he has a Lady, a proper one, noble blooded and all, in the Upper Ring that he visits on occasion."
"That's right, remember when he was so shy about buying those herbs," Madam Madeline said. "Red as as a boiled lobster."
The two women laughed, and the third's mask of standoffishness broke and she smiled slyly.
"Herbs? Herbs for what?" Ern asked. "Is Sid sick?"
"Now's not the time to explain all that," Old Graf interrupted. "Gossip and scandal can wait."
Fritz, although he knew about such herbs, hadn't even considered the prospect and just now was thinking about how foolish he had been. What if they had ended up like Toby and Jane? He was glad for Sid's foresight and sensible nature. He kept his face bland while Toby looked perplexed and Bert grinned at him like an idiot.
"It might actually be safer even with you taking shifts, or watches as you call them," Lady Fare continued.
Fritz nodded and as he did so he could hear the soft thudding of light feet, racing up the stairs and into the hallway.
There was a knocking at the door, then a child of nine sped into the room, blurting out a question and a warning.
"Where's mister Sid? The bad men are coming!"
Comments
GregSandpaper
I think she might be staying hooded, but I’m curious as well. Didn’t she also cover her lower face with a scarf at times, which she also once strangled Fritz with? I can’t recall any recent references to her face being covered though. Drizzlers tend to be short due to malnourishment and at 6 foot, she was the tallest of the bunch sent into the spire in the first Arc. She may have even grown a bit once she started getting the nourishment from monster meat inside the spire. So if she is hooded, I can see how her height would help sell her disguise.
yohan gu
This feels inconsistent and questions how can the drizzlers not know about her, if you have everybody knowing well about her and her edicts.
yohan gu
They are talking way too freely about the Nightshark, are they not? This openness around randos doesn’t match the air of mystery around her very existence she kept. I remember we didn’t even know before this book she was a woman (though it could be suspected by how people used « they » instead of « he »).
yohan gu
Let’s watch as Toby slowly puts 2 and 2 together
Octophobia
Thanks! :)
Brady Fiola
I need some art of Sid, because I can’t imagine she’s THAT androgynous looking. Is she hooded at all times?
GregSandpaper
It seems like this is Fritz’s chance to level up The Observations.
GregSandpaper
“You go it, no one better than me to squid out secrets," he boasted. go >> got
GregSandpaper
“Bert was now bordering on bulky and Fritz's muscles had thickened, having been long since been cured of his spindle-itis.” An extra “been” in there.
