Octophobia
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Spire's Spite - Arc 3 - Chapter 7
🕑 Added 2025-01-30 02:00:07 +0000 UTCFritz arrived home in a rush, and as soon as he was through the front door he strode into the stairway. He called a team meeting with a shout and rang a fist-sized bell that hung from one of the walls. The team soon gathered, peering over the balustrades with expressions varying from interest to annoyance. Lauren clutched her still-aching head. Fritz motioned to follow him and they obeyed.
He led them to the lounge, and after he shooed a pigeon from a windowsill and searched the room for any potentially hidden pests, he explained his theory that The Nightshark is a beastmaster. He paced as he did so, and likely sounded like some sort of madman as the words galloped from his lips.
It was met with some incredulity and more than a little scepticism, but when he insistently laid out his reasoning they at least humoured the concept. He spoke of how the Nightshark was said to always be watching, to have a net of spies so vast that it covered the entire Sunken Ring. Yes, it could just be any sneak thief or gutter rat but what if it was really was the literal gutter rats? Or perhaps the birds who flew overhead.
The more he talked the more the more they agreed with his assertion.
"Is that why Jane and Toby were so excited for the eel egg?" Bert asked.
"Yes, they likely thought it would be a good bribe or tribute," Fritz said.
"I have a thought, Fritz," Bert said.
"Unprecedented, though go on," Fritz allowed.
Bert mock scowled, but continued, "That stormhawk we kidnapped for a while, you know, Bastard."
"Right, I remember it," Fritz said, rubbing absently at the thin scar on the back of his hand.
"You said not to kill it," Bert said.
"Yes, it felt like the wrong thing to do," Fritz agreed.
"Hmm," Bert hummed. "If it was a bonded beast, like you're saying, then you were right."
"What do you mean? Do you think the Nightshark would have known if we had hurt it?" Fritz asked.
"If we hurt it? Maybe. If we had killed it? Definitely," Bert said.
"So you'd know if Dale died?" Fritz asked.
"Yep," Bert said, patting Dale's shell which was stuck solidly to his shoulder. The snail was currently withdrawn, likely sleeping, and thankfully didn't unfurl at the touch.
"That's useful knowledge," Fritz said.
"Maybe for you guys. But why are you telling us all this?" Cal asked. "We didn't want to get involved in this Nightshark stuff, remember?"
Fritz felt the small sting of shame, Cal was right and this secret, if it were true, could lead to some danger to those who held it. He brushed the concern away. It was better that they knew.
"You're not involved past your association with me," Fritz assuaged. "Though I think it will be of benefit that you are aware of this small suspicion of mine. And keep in mind, it's just a suspicion, not a surety."
"Uh-huh,' Cal said shifting in his chair uncomfortably.
"It'll help keep your secrets safe," Fritz said. "Just make sure there's no birds or beasts around when you talk about anything sensitive."
"Easier said than done, what if it works on bugs?" Cal pointed out.
The comment stopped Fritz in his tracks and he frantically scanned the room for anything creeping on the walls or ceiling.
"Nah, can't be bugs," Bert claimed.
"And how do you know that?" Fritz asked.
"I did some research, reading books, talking to foreign Climber, the whole lot," Bert stated.
"You read books!?" Fritz said exaggeratedly. Though the admission only surprised him only a little he decided to play it up.
"Of course I did," Bert replied in mock offence. "You think I just rushed into becoming a beastmaster without thinking it through."
"Honestly, yes," Fritz said. "When did you even get the time?"
"Before the Climb, here and there," Bert said.
"And here I thought you were just out gallivanting," Fritz said.
"I can do both," Bert said proudly.
"Huh," Fritz said. "Why can't it be bugs?"
"What?" Bert asked.
"Why can't the Nightshark be using bugs to spy?" Fritz asked.
"Oh, that," Bert said. "The bond kills them."
"Does it?"
"Yeah. Most animals smaller than a finger will just go stiff and twitch wildly when you try to command them. And bugs just die."
"Dale's a bug," George observed.
"Spire beasts are different," Bert said, frowning. "And he's not a bug."
"How are they different?" Fritz asked.
"I don't know they just are," Bert said. "Maybe it's because they're magic."
"I heard a tale of a Climber who could command a swarm of spiders," Lauren said. "The power to bond bugs could be a rare or an Ascended form of a beast-bond Trait."
Fritz shivered at the thought of such a horrific power, and he was not alone.
"Bonding more than one beast is also rare, but not unheard of," Bert said. "Something to do with Ability and Trait Evolutions."
"I think it's safe enough to say that the Nightshark has a power that bonds multiple beasts. Likely birds, rats and maybe fish," Fritz said. "To what degree they're able to spy, whether by listening and reporting or if they send messages through the bond, I can't guess. Though we should all be careful saying anything if you suspect there may be a rat or some other vermin around."
Fritz looked to Bert to see if he had anything more to say about beastmastering. He merely shrugged.
"Anyway, I just thought I'd warn you all," Fritz said to the unusually quiet team. "And as I have you all still here, we'll begin training in three days."
"Training for what?" Cal asked.
"For Climbing," Fritz said. "I want to polish our skills, practise in a low-risk environment for once. We'll use the yard for now, it seems big enough for some running, wrestling and sparring. We can look into the dedicated training halls later."
"I could always do with some more wrestling," Rosie said, grinning.
"And I would like to test my blade against yours, Fritz," George added.
"There will be plenty of time for that," Fritz said. "Any other ideas?"
"We could hire a tutor, or talk with other, more experienced Climbing teams," Lauren proposed. "They could help us with a routine and working out what areas we should focus on."
"A brilliant idea, though I'm not keen to reveal our powers," Fritz said.
Lauren shrugged. "We tell them only the basics, striker mage, striker swordsman, guard defender, that sort of thing."
"What about me, I'm what? Support?" Cal hedged.
"Striker, cook, support," Bert listed. "Perfect kit if you ask me. Apart from mine."
"Which is what? A beastmaster...something?" Cal asked.
"I'm still a Defender," Bert said. "With a bit of striking."
"And a snail," Rosie said.
"And Dale," Bert agreed.
"How does this all work?" Cal asked, frowning.
"What do you mean?" Fritz asked.
"Like all this Role stuff," he replied. "Like how can both Rosie and Bert be Defenders when their powers are so different?"
"It's not really about the powers themselves but what they do broadly," Fritz said. "There are many ways to be a Striker. Take Lauren's fire magic or George's sword skills. They do the Role differently but they both specialise in killing beasts or destroying obstacles."
"Huh," Cal said.
"I get it," Rosie said. "My scales are hard and I'm tough. Bert is softer, but he recovers quickly. But we're both very hard to kill and can distract beasts."
"Exactly," Fritz said.
"And once Dale grows up he'll be able to help," Bert said proudly. "Remember how hard those other snails were to kill? They healed faster than I do."
"Until their shells were shattered," Fritz corrected. "Or they were cut by a cursed blade."
"True, but I'll be able to protect his shell, and I have a passive that lets us share health recovery."
"What?" Fritz asked, actually baffled that such an Ability existed.
"That's right, Vitality plus snail recovery powers. What a synergy!" Bert stated.
It aggravated Fritz that the man was absolutely right, it sounded fantastic and made him feel like his own kit was cobbled together from scraps in comparison. He wondered how had the man stumbled into such a synergistic set of complementary powers? Then Fritz saw that cunning glint in the man's amber eye and knew that he hadn't stumbled into anything. He'd been choosing his Abilities carefully since he'd found the snail egg, maybe even before.
"And with the both of us, it will be like you have two Defenders at once!" He claimed proudly. Dale tentatively slithered out of his shell and goggled groggily, obviously having been awoken by Bert's boasting. He warbled grumpily.
"Huh," Cal said. "I guess that makes some sense. I just wish the lines between Roles were a bit clearer."
"If only things were so cut and dry," Fritz agreed. "Unfortunately, this a land of grey and rain."
"It is in Rain City. Though the world is a big place, with many Spires and things to see," Lauren said.
"Many adventures," Fritz agreed. "I'd love to brave the sea. Some day."
"What and risk being eaten, or crushed by leviathans?" Cal asked.
"Or their swarming spawn," George added.
"Or caught in a mana-storm, " Bert said eagerly. "So many different dangers!"
"Sounds deadly," Cal said.
"It's a perilous prospect, but not impossible," Fritz said. "Experienced sailors can cross the seas if they're careful. And the Jastili Fleet is known to travel the ocean and trade with all lands, mapped or mysterious."
"The Jastil are a different breed to even veteran sailors. Their ships are their homes, the crew are their family. The perils of the open waters mean little to them as they likely have three thousand tricks to traverse the seas," Lauren explained, some admiration, or envy, in her voice.
She sighed. "Though that's neither here nor there, we were talking about the future, not foolish fantasy."
Fritz nodded. Although he still felt the desire to leave Rain City, such a voyage would be expensive, dangerous and would mean leaving his family behind, or bringing them with him. Which he couldn't countenance, not while they were levelless and still needed his protection.
"So you want us to rest and stuff and then we get to training?" Rosie asked.
"I would like you to search for anything to make yourself more powerful or versatile. Find some Techniques or useful mundane skills you'd like to learn, or books with knowledge on how to get the best use of our Attributes and Abilities. That sort of thing. And we should be on the lookout for information about the Rain Spire's Floors and Doors."
"We should all get some better gear as well," George interjected.
"Yes," Fritz agreed. "Now that you have your own gold you should use a little to outfit yourselves more fully."
The team nodded, seeing the logic in his requests.
"And you will be hiring a servant and a laundry service, correct?" Lauren asked.
"I will, as the Captain I am burdened with such responsibilities," Fritz said. "Though I will require some gold to help pay for it."
"Boo!" Bert protested, his voice rolling over the more reserved grumblings of the rest of the crew.
"Consider it my Captain's due, as I didn't collect the customary three shares of the haul," Fritz reminded them. "And clean clothes and quarters is something we'll all enjoy the benefits of."
"Speaking of the haul," Cal said. "Can I have some of the blood lime seeds?"
"Why? What to gift them to some pretty alchemist perhaps?" Fritz teased.
Cal blushed a little, but denied the accusation. "No, I was going to buy some planters and dirt, try and grow one of the trees. That way we could have a steady supply of them...eventually."
"Didn't they grow in salt water?" George asked.
Cal nodded, his face falling.
"You could still try it, perhaps plant it somewhere down in the drowned district where seawater mingles with the rain," Fritz suggested.
"I'll do that then, if we can spare them," Cal hedged.
"We can," Lauren agreed, though she didn't look exactly happy that they were seemingly squandering their materials.
"Anything else we need to purchase or procure?" Fritz asked Lauren.
"I'm not entirely sure. I need a proper ledger book, though I can get that myself," Lauren said.
"Could you find me something to write in as well?" Fritz asked.
"Starting a Guide journal?" She asked.
Fritz nearly winced at the question, he suppressed the expression and the rushing emotion surging from distant, old memories of perusing his own father's journals. Flashes of hand-drawn beasts and strange landscapes accompanied by neatly scribbled notes.
"Guide journal?" Bert asked.
"Many, if not most, Guides record the various Floors and Doors they encounter in their Climbs," Fritz explained. "The knowledge can be valuable. Especially anything you can observe about reoccurring or persistent floors."
"We could just write a book about our Climb and sell it?" Rosie asked.
"You could," Fritz said. "However, there are so many false accounts and fictitious journals out there that it wouldn't be worth the paper it's written on. A lie in such a book could mean your death so only the desperate would look to them for any sort of advice."
"Huh," Rosie said.
"But I heard the Guides Guild buys things like that," Cal said.
"They do," Fritz said, trying not to scowl. "The Guides Guild make sure any such knowledge is sold to them. They verify the accuracy of the claims, then compile them into the prohibitively expensive Guidebooks and teach all they know to their own members to give them the edge over 'normal' Scouts. It keeps their stranglehold on the extremely lucrative Climbing knowledge. And they like it that way, so if you did produce your own true and useful guides they would come knocking quite quickly."
"Bastards," Rosie said, spitting to the side and onto a green rug.
"Don't do that," Cal said. "This place is nice and dry, don't want to flood it with your spit."
"Right, sorry," Rosie said.
They quieted for some moments each considering their next steps and the errands they had to run to accomplish their goals.
"I think I'm going to take that sirensilk we reserved for ourselves to the tailor I mentioned. We should get any commissions we desire underway early," Fritz announced. "You all will need to come, to get the measurements done."
"As far as commissions and armour goes, how long will the shark and eel skins take to cure?" George asked.
"Anywhere from a week to a month," Fritz said. "Then we can get something made from them too."
George nodded.
"Right, let's get a move on," Fritz ordered.
The team obeyed, shuffling out into the hallway, Fritz caught Bert by the arm and asked, "Is the eel egg still healthy?"
Bert nodded. "I have it in a big jar. It's as safe as can be."
"Good, because we'll need it to get on the Nightshark's good side," Fritz said. "I have a bad feeling, and it's best to be bearing gifts rather than just grudges."
"I don't hold grudges," Bert stated.
"I was talking about myself," Fritz admitted.
"Anything else?" Bert asked.
"I don't know," Fritz said, letting some of his worry show. "I'm afraid."
Bert patted Fritz on the shoulder, then pulled him into a hug.
"Don't worry. We'll face it together," Bert said. "It's only the boss of the entire Sunken Ring. How deadly could they really be?"
Fritz laughed at the absurdity of the comment.
"Only the most deadly person in Rain City, save the king," Fritz said drily.
"Look on the bright side then," Bert said.
"And what is that?"
"You haven't annoyed the king...yet," Bert said, grinning.
"Yet?" Fritz smirked. "What could I, so far beneath his majesties notice, possibly do to annoy him?"
"I don't know, but you'll find a way," Bert grinned. "I feel it in my moonsilvered bones."
"Haha," Fritz chuckled.
"And I'll be there then as well," Bert said.
Fritz nodded.
Bert broke the hug and said, "Now let's stop worrying and get to shopping. I love shopping."
Fritz smiled, Bert grinned and they set off, joining the others and leading them forward.
---
Colette's store was doing a bisque business, though Fritz could see it was not one of the more popular establishments. She and one of her two assistants were currently preoccupied so Fritz and his team waited, busying themselves with some small browsing of the cuts and fits displayed on the many mannequins.
"This is some well-made clothing, very elegant," George said. "I'm surprised there aren't more patrons."
"It's because this sort of style is not currently in fashion, these clean lines and smooth curves have been eclipsed in the court by great bunches of ruffles and lace," Lauren said.
"You're quite right. The esteemed nobility want veritable mountains of frills, trying to impress the Empire Prince no doubt. Preferably knitted out of silverstream wool," an assistant said, his youthful face scrunching in displeasure. "Of course, now that that fabric is desirable it is impossible to acquire. Though I'm sure this current fad will soon be over. Once the Empire Prince finally leaves."
"What about sirensilk?" Rosie asked.
The man snorted.
"Timelessly fashionable, eternally elegant and absurdly expensive. It's wonderfully smooth and light, like touching a cool, still ocean," he espoused.
"Yeah, I guess it's nice," Rosie said, scratching lightly at a scale and eliciting a scowl from the man.
"Can I help you?" He asked, annoyed, and not for the first time.
"Still just waiting on your master," Fritz said, smirking.
"Well, I'm ready now," Colette said, appearing from behind a curtained partition.
She looked different from when Fritz had seen her before, though that was likely because he wasn't breaking into her store in the middle of the night. Gone was the dressing gown and hairnet, replaced with a dark blue dress that fit her perfectly. It wasn't quite an evening dress, being far too functional to be such apparel, but it also wasn't devoid of beauty. Her mousy hair was tied in a proper bun, and her face was powdered and painted lightly.
In this more proper state she was really quite pretty.
"Colette," Fritz greeted, smiling wide at the woman.
"Francis!" Colette said, her polite smile brightening and her grey eyes twinkling with joy.
"Oh, If I had known it was you I would have rushed to say hello," she said.
"No, you wouldn't have," the assistant said, rolling his eyes. "You never rush anything."
"Don't be rude, Phil," the other assistant said. This one a woman who looked strikingly similar to the man, both sharing black hair, blue eyes and prominent chins.
"You'll have to excuse these two, Francis. They're competent, but excitable," Colette said.
"And twins," Bert observed.
"Ah, and these are your friends?" Colette asked, then she counted them quickly and corrected herself. "No, your Climbing team. Of course."
Her brow creased as a thought occurred to her. "And did I hear one of you mention sirensilk?"
"Perhaps," Fritz said.
Her face lit up further, she beamed, then her face slipped into concern and she glanced around suspiciously.
"Phil, Gina, mind the shop. I need to speak with Sir Hightide in private."
The two shared a look of curiosity, but heeded her order.
"Francis, let us go into the back room and you can show me what you have," she continued, oblivious to how her words sounded.
"My pleasure," Fritz agreed with dignity, while Bert grinned and the twins stifled smirks.
He followed her through the warded door and into a room that likely served as the main tailoring area. Like the personal sewing room he had seen upstairs this workplace was messy and ill-managed, though there was a certain sense of controlled chaos amongst the strewn sewing supplies.
Many bolts of different coloured cloth lined the walls and work tables were laid with boxes full of various smooth threads and shining needles. Scattered papers were scrawled with patterns and sketches of clothes, and among them there were some few unfinished garments lying upon the desks, waiting to be sewn.
"Don't mind the mess," Colette said absently.
"Over here." She added, leading him to the largest and most cluttered table. She lit a bright lantern and cleared a space for him to display his goods. "Let's have a look at these threads."
Colette awaited eagerly, she nearly hopped from foot to foot, but controlled herself by clasping her hands in front of her.
Fritz started pulling out the long loops of unwoven threads, her expression brightened into dignified delight. He placed them on the table gently. Colette reached out with a steady hand and ran the cool, smooth strands through calloused fingers.
"Wonderful. So soft," she murmured, she pulled on the thread, testing its strength and nodding. "It will need to be woven to make anything substantial, but there is no fraying or other damage so that will be easy. Or these threads could be used to sew seams, they would be quite tough."
She beamed up at him, "I would love to work with this material. What do you want for it?"
"I was going to ask you to make me and my team some clothing out of the sirensilk, Lauren wanted battle robes," Fritz said.
Her face fell, "I'm sorry to say, but there isn't enough here to make much more than a shirt. Unless I only use it as a thread and have another fabric as a base."
"Oh," Fritz said, trying to conceal his smirk and failing.
"What if you were to use this?" He asked unfurling a long sheet of the woven sirensilk. It was pale blue and shimmered softly. The fabric flowed like water through his fingers as he let it slip onto the desk.
She stared at the glimmering sheet in disbelief, then delicately ran her hand over it. Her smile widened and she lifted some to her neck and let it glide over her skin.
"It's... It's... beyond words," she said.
"Well, you can have that one, as a gift for your help. We have more," Fritz said.
She enjoyed the sensation of sirensilk for a moment longer. Then his words reached her mind and some thought occurred to her.
She opened her eyes wide.
Colette fell into a chair, face pale as if stricken, and clutching at the precious fabric.
"Where did you get this? You didn't steal this did you?" She whispered, mortified, pulling the sirensilk to her chest.
Fritz frowned, then smoothed his brow and smiled surely. "Only from sirens. And they're in no position to protest my theft."
She looked at him and searched his features.
"You're telling the truth?" She asked as if she didn't dare believe it.
"Of course I am," Fritz said, a little offended, then he softened his tone and laced it with the lulling tones of Dusksong. "I would never have you work with stolen goods, or bring danger to you."
The words had some effect and she nodded.
"You'll have to forgive me, it was just... do you know what this is worth?" She asked.
"Not exactly. One of my team, Lauren, estimated we had a thousand gold worth of sirensilk, maybe more," Fritz said with a shrug, trying to play off how proud he was of their vast hoard and producing another sheet, this one green with a golden sheen.
"How many sheets like this do you have?" She asked, motes of worry and excitement dancing around her head in a dizzying halo.
"Plenty, at least thirty sheets of similar or greater size," Fritz said.
"Thirty!?" She gasped, then gulped.
"Yes, we were lucky," Fritz said.
She stared at him, then began to laugh. It was high and clear, on the edge of mania.
"Lucky!" she cackled. "Lucky he says! Boy, these sheets are worth at least a hundred gold triads. Each!"
"What?" Fritz asked, caught off guard.
"Your team member has wildly undervalued what you have," she proclaimed. "And that's just the material itself, if I were to tailor something for you out of this it could be worth even more. By the Gods, Francis, you really have brought me a terrible problem."
"Problem?" He asked.
"It's too much. Too much, Francis!" Colette protested, though she didn't let go of the sirensilk.
Fritz laughed at that.
"Don't worry about what it's worth. I just want something nice made for me and my team. We went through a lot of trouble for it and I'd like to see them enjoy the fruits of their labour."
"Are you sure?" She asked, now uncertain. "I haven't worked with this before, I might mess it up."
"We have a lot," Fritz said. "And I trust you to do your best. You've served House Hightide faithfully before. It calls on you again. Will you answer?"
She stared at him as his lordly tones echoed strangely, Dusksong leaking into his words.
Colette smiled wide and burst out laughing. "You're absurd! I'm a dressmaker, not a knight!"
"And that is what House Hightide requires of you," Fritz proclaimed.
When her mirth died down, she looked up at him, then stood.
"I answer. I will take this commission, let's get you all measured. We'll have to do yours again too since you've filled out," she said, holding out a hand.
Fritz shook it and nodded.
"And Francis, thank you," she said.
"No, thank you," Francis replied.
It felt good to repay a debt.
Comments
Moon Winchester
When will we see commissioned art work of Fritz and Bert?
