Octophobia
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Spire's Spite - Arc 2 - Chapter 30
🕑 Added 2024-08-18 03:00:02 +0000 UTCFritz's head swam as he breathed in more of the numbing air, but he didn't dare take his eyes off the raider approaching or his savage grin.
At least he looks hurt, Fritz observed, searching over the man's ragged appearance, and the tearing of his black armour and the many cuts he had taken on his skin.
Lauren slumped to the side, unconscious. Bert seemed to barely notice the poison as he clasped the bar of soap with the Golden Seed hidden within. The rest of the team, feeling the effects of the sedative poison woke one by one. In dazes, they stared around, then upon noticing the raider, scampered backwards, away from the man's cruel, hungry gaze.
Vaa'gur approached, but walked right past Fritz and dipped his own hand in the Well, many of his small cuts closing. The raider smiled coldly, turning his attention back to the still-staring team. He laughed, rough, loud and terrible. Fritz could see the man's sadistic joy dripping from him like smoky tar.
"Why?" Fritz asked, his tongue feeling slimy and stiff in his mouth.
"And you still dare speak," Vaa'gur growled. "No sense, and no strength. A mewling weakling to the end."
Fritz fell silent, more out of reaching for some insult than out of fear, but that didn't seem to matter to the raider.
"He learns his place! Learns silence like he should!" Vaa'gur raved. "Too late! Far too late for you!"
"Who should I enjoy first? Whose screams will sound the sweetest?" He growled, bending down and staring mad black eyes into Fritz's own while the team looked on in terror.
He was close, too close, their noses almost touching. Hot, excited breath blew over his face. Vaa'gur reached for his dagger's hilt and his excitement only seemed to grow.
A subtle glow of golden light washed over Bert and vanished in a moment. It may have gone without notice, and would have if Vaa'gur didn't immediately stop his ranting and spun on Bert.
"Golden Seed," He muttered confusedly, then comprehension lit up his face and he frowned furiously. "You liars! Spinning lies like spiders!"
Bert finally opened his eyes, and upon seeing the raider looming over the team stood and raised his fists. He lowered his head, his muscles tensed and his veins bulged, amber eyes glinted with red for a second. His skin seemed to slightly bend the air an inch around him, and he charged. Bert was a blur, his feet thundered like hooves while his body carried some terrible momentum.
Vaa'gur's shock was apparent for less than a heartbeat before he attempted to dodge while drawing his dagger in one motion. His inhuman reflexes allowed him to avoid most of Bert's overwhelming rush, stepping out of his path. But even with his great speed and skill, he was still clipped by an elbow crashing into his shoulder.
The raider was flung from his feet, spun in the air for a moment, then slammed upon the ground before harnessing the force to roll away and stand again. He didn't look all that hurt from the impact, save for the telling trickle of blood that leaked from his bandaged forearm. Bert's charge continued until he struck a wall and bounced off with a thud. He fell to the ground and groaned.
Vaa'gur didn't give him another look, instead, he stared in disbelief at his still bleeding wound, then at the Well. He pulled off the bandage as Bert staggered to his feet. Under the dressing the raider saw the unrecovered injury. He sniffed it then glared hard at it, searching for something.
His distraction had the team moving again, struggling with shaky limbs to lift their weapons. It was pointless, they couldn't hope to hit the man normally, what did they think they were going to do while weakened by this numbing gas? They needed to flee into a Door again, one without too many threats so Fritz and Bert could stall for some time without having to protect their team. If they could get to the sixth Floor's Well room they'd be safe from attack from other Climbers. At least that's what he remembered.
It was their best bet, so Fritz did what he could, standing on trembling legs, trying to ignore the cold burning ache all through his skeleton. Drawing Quicksilver he stepped a pace backwards and felt at the Doors behind him.
All three gave off impressions of mild danger, barely anything to worry about now that they were all Pathers. But one was underwater and the other had a strange heaviness to it, one that tried to pull you to the ground. It would have to be the rightmost one then.
"Rosie, Cal, George! Take Lauren and get out! Right Door!" Fritz called out thickly.
"What about the spite?" Cal objected blearily.
"Endure it, we'll be along in a moment. And don't even think of leaving anyone behind! Get out!" He yelled again as the raider turned his gaze on Fritz and eyed his bone dagger.
"Cursed?" He guessed. "What's such a precious Treasure doing in a place like this?"
Reminded of curses, but running nearly empty on Dusksong mana, Fritz cast Lethargy at the man. Instead of reaching out with a hand and giving away that he was using an Ability he focused on activating it without movement.
The silently shrieking energy was spat from his eye, quick, invisible, a bolt of lightning without the flash or boom. It coiled around the man's chest and took hold, soaking into his body. It cost Fritz dearly and he swooned from the sudden drain. Vaa'gur grinned, seemingly from seeing his prey's obvious pain and terrible struggle. And in his glee, he failed to notice the curse grasp him at all.
His stamina must be monstrous, but it's not endless. It will slow him down, Fritz reassured himself.
Bert charged again, but the raider had plenty of space to react and slipped aside, dodging easily. Bert rushed past in a furious haze and a whoosh of wind, almost catching Fritz at the tail end of the Ability. Fritz stumbled out of the way and Bert nearly slammed into the wall behind, stopping himself at the very last second.
Now that Fritz saw the raider's obvious desire for the dagger he drew it and said, "I'll give it to you if you let us go."
Vaa'gur scowled and bared his teeth as if they were fangs.
"I'll have it from you anyway. But if you hand it over all quiet like, then I'll slit your throat before I skin you," he said viciously.
The counteroffer didn't appeal to Fritz in the slightest, so he set himself to fight and Bert joined him, standing by his side.
Vaa'gur merely watched them, his eyes darting to the rest of the team staggering up and heaving their gear. They were shuffling towards the right Door, with Rosie, who seemed the least affected by the poison, guarding the rear. George had taken it upon himself to lift Lauren and carry her while Cal hefted his flail and looked on, worriedly walking backwards as they slowly moved toward the next Floor.
"Don't worry. I'll catch up with you all soon enough. Better look forward to it. I am," Vaa'gur said, pointing his leaden dagger towards Cal.
The blade's tip dipped and the raider darted towards Fritz, again he was almost caught by the sudden movement, his Danger Sense ignoring the obvious lethal intent of the raider's attacks. Bert tried to intercept, but the man simply slithered around him and his punches, ever closer to Fritz. He thrust Quicksilver towards the raider, but he battered it away with contemptuous ease and moved in closer to bury the dagger in Fritz's chest.
In a blur, Rosie appeared between them swinging down with two red-rimmed weapons. The pick seemed to glow pink as its Strike was Activated and fought with Puncture's magic. Vaa'gur slipped sideways out of instinct and avoided the pick. However, the hatchet's descent scored a cut down his arm, and the new wound poured with blood. His other, tattooed, arm began to gleam as the dull green script lit up into a bright, sickening radiance.
Fritz looked away in time, but Rosie got a full face of the light and pulled her weapons close. She wrapped her arms around her waist before she stumbled to the floor and vomited.
Bert was dazed by the awful green tattoo, but he seemed to throw off the nauseating effect quickly. He shook his head and angled himself closer to the distracted raider, then used his new charge Ability. Vaa'gur hadn't the room to dodge this time as Fritz had also lunged for the man, activating Gloom Strike and aiming his shadowed blade for the raider's leg. A skewering strike that he avoided, but created an opening in his dodging defence. Bert barrelled into Vaa'gur, slamming into him full force and throwing him across the room in a tangle of limbs and tumbling arrows as they fell from his quiver. He groaned, but was soon moving, glaring hatefully at his opponents.
Taking the offered opportunity, George, with Lauren hanging limply in his arms, left through the right Door, while Cal stood there shaking, staring at his sister as she lay groaning on the ground. He glanced down at the flail in his hands, steeling himself against his fear.
Fritz watched as the raider stood again and tapped on the side of his quiver, then pulled a bow out of it like the leather was a puddle of thick mud. In his daze, Fritz idly noted that one or both of the items had to be some sort of Treasure, and might make a nice gift for a certain bow-woman.
He didn't have that sort of time to muse, the poison was already robbing him of his ability to focus, his moonsilver bones couldn't keep up with the toxin entering his body. Vaa'gur put an arrow to the suddenly produced bow's string, just as Cal rushed for him, swinging the flail in at his head. The raider spat out a curse and ducked under the whooshing ball.
The flail's head soared over him and missed completely, then it suddenly changed direction and circled around Vaa'gur's body, wrapping him with the chain. The iron links poured endlessly from the flail's haft and slithered over the raider, coiling around him, then squeezing tight like a constricting snake. Cal looked on in complete shock, then dropped the handle of his weapon as it continued to bind his foe. He ran to his sister and stored her weapons away in his Personal Pack, then lifted her. With an unsteady gait he fled through the right Door, as he'd been ordered.
Vaa'gur struggled against the chains tying his arms and bow to his chest. Fritz saw his chance and attempted to rush the man, only to almost trip and fall from his leaden feet. It felt like his boots had turned to stone, and his hands weren't much better, numb and unresponsive like they were carved of marble. Quicksilver wavered in his grip as he fought to keep its point up. He nearly dropped his trusty blade.
Hissing out a string of insults, Fritz staggered away towards the Door, leaving the raider to fight with the Treasure flail's binding chains while he made a hasty, stumbling escape.
Bert, who was panting heavily and looked around dumbly, followed his friend. He was absolutely exhausted, likely as much as Fritz was. They leaned on each other, passed into the Door and plodded up the stairs. As the air around them cleared, the dulling effects of the poisonous gas lessened, and with each step they became stronger, Bert more than himself, and soon they were taking the stairs in twos.
When Fritz lurched out of the Stairway and finally took stock of the new Floor, he found they they were in a lush, but strange jungle. Humid and hot, the wind washed over him and rustled the long red leaves while setting golden branches to swaying. Ferns and tall trees surrounded the clearing they stood in on all sides. He spotted his team, Lauren awake and standing, but dazed and holding her shortsword. George by her side levelling his long copper blade at them. Cal was administering a potion to the fallen Rosie, who had a bleeding gash in her gut.
He hadn't seen her take the blow, but Fritz was sure she had received it when she Interposed herself. The dagger had gone right into her, with her scales barely blunting the blade.
Fritz winced and took a moment to centre himself and breathe. Even if the air was sticky and hot it was a good deal better than the dry numbing poison. Luckily, it seemed that whatever toxin was in that gas was short-lived, as he could feel his limbs tingle and come back under his control.
"How long do you think we have?" Bert asked.
"A minute or two, maybe," Fritz said checking the still active Door behind him. "Likely less."
"Let's go then," Bert said.
"Wait," Cal said. "Let's lay some traps."
"Not worth the time. I think he has something like Trap Sense, otherwise he wouldn't have beat us to the Well room," Fritz explained.
"It could slow him down some, and George has caltrops. Just scatter them here and we run," he replied.
"I agree, and as much as it pains me to throw away gold, we should also rub a bit of that eel venom on them," Lauren suggested.
"Again, I think he has ways around venom and poisons. Seemingly he's some sort of poisoner himself, what with how he seemed immune to the gas. Likely took an antidote beforehand," Fritz guessed.
"It's not normal venom remember," Lauren said with some exasperation. "It purifies."
Fritz stopped and considered the woman's words, and although he thought it was likely a waste of resources, it was better that than dead.
He nodded. "Who has the vials?"
"I do," Lauren said as Rosie stirred and looked around.
"Where's my pick?" She asked.
"Those are your first words?" Cal groused. "Not 'thank you for saving me?'"
"Thank you for saving me," she echoed, then added, "Where's my pick?"
"Here," He said producing the silver weapon from thin air and handing it to her.
Fritz felt a pang of envy, that Ability was extremely useful, and wasted on Cal.
"How's the stab wound," Cal asked.
"It's better, but still feels wrong. It aches and burns," she said. "And I feel sick in my stomach."
Fritz realised that his own cuts from that dagger felt the same, though the dull burning had subsided somewhat, the pain still lingered. It wasn't poison and didn't feel like a curse, but something that was definitely toxic, likely a property of the leaden metal of the blade itself.
He shook his head, banishing his distractions. "Can you run?"
Rosie nodded as she stood gingerly.
"Good, we need to go," Fritz stated.
In a flurry of movement, they hauled up their packs. Caltrops laced with clearblood venom were scattered behind them as they ran into the thick vegetation. Not wanting to pulse his Awareness and drain what little energy he had, Fritz pulled out the second, and last, Door dowser then Activated it. This time he was ready for the more powerful impressions it provided and was able to veer them to the left where he felt the Stairway.
In a stroke of terrible luck this red-gold jungle seemed to be a huge Floor, likely one that was to test their ability to travel long, uncomfortable distances rather than a sprint over harsh or barren lands. That's not to say it couldn't be dangerous but he had the distinct feeling that this was meant to test their survival skills instead of their combat ones. That may have been fine, good even, in any other circumstance. But while being hunted by the raider, it seemed like this Floor was a cruel joke.
The only thing that eased Fritz's nerves was the knowledge that the trees, vines and other plants would lend them plenty of cover and would render them almost impossible to hit from afar. Much unlike the white desert floor with its open flat dunes. No, the raider would have to get close to loose on them. Fritz hoped that even if they could not hide from the beast-like man that they could eventually outrun or outlast him. A fool's hope he knew, but he had to trust the curses he had put on the man, as well as the traps they had laid.
What else could he do?
Eventually, running slowed into jogging that slowed further into striding, then finally turned into trudging. Pushing through the undergrowth, the bright birds whistled and chirped above them as they panted, sweat and staggered forward. If they hadn't already gone through a fire-aligned floor and knew how to pace themselves, he knew they'd already have fallen, succumbing to the humidity and heat. Fritz handed out the vigour pills he had bought from Naomi what seemed like months ago.
They weren't stamina potions but they would keep them on their feet for longer, or so the hedge alchemist had claimed. Fritz iterated this fact and none complained as they swallowed them down with mouthfuls of wonderful water. They had to use the re-filling water flask, as theirs were already all out and empty. Thankfully the pills did have an effect, one that accumulated slowly, revitalising them slightly and putting some strength in their strides again.
For hours they trudged, handing the waterflask among themselves, trying to recover all the water they lost from sweating. Until Fritz heard the burbling of a creek and led them towards it. He thought it to be only a mile or two away, but he was wrong, both in the distance and about it being only a small creek. The burbling had become a roar as they got closer and closer to the promise of running water.
When they reached the shore of the rushing stream they stopped, some sat heavily while others dropped their packs and plunged into the rapid waters. What he had thought was a creek was almost a river, it spanned over a hundred feet. He doubted they could swim it without being swept away or dashed upon some of the rocky islands that lay among the cascading, frothing waves.
On seeing the insurmountable obstacle, Fritz despaired. Only for a moment though as he took control of his pessimism and turned his mind to solving the problem. If they had the time they could build a raft or some kind of bridge across. They had no such luxury. Any leeway they had bought with the patches of caltrops they had dropped or the distance they may have gained from their relentless march, wouldn't help.
Fritz turned and searched the canopy for the tallest tree nearby, spotting the largest, at around sixty feet high, no more than a couple minutes walk away.
"Gorge, Cal, Bert. Big tree in the distance, cut it down with Sever. Haul it back here, we'll use it as a bridge to that stone bank in the middle of the river."
"What about the rest of the way?' Cal asked breathlessly.
"We'll cross that bridge once we've crossed the first one," Fritz said, too tired to scold the questioning. "Go. The quicker we're across the quicker we can rest."
"And what will you be doing while we do all the hard stuff?" Cal asked sourly.
"Resting, and keeping an eye out for the bloody raider," Fritz said through gritted teeth, his anger rising. Once they were safe Cal would be getting an earful, maybe of words, but the way he was carrying on, more likely steel.
Cal grumbled, but when Bert held out a hand he took it, lifting him to his feet and following the brawler into the jungle. George staggered up, joining the two, tired but eager to test his new sword.
"What do we do?" Rosie asked cradling her side, her hand held to her wound.
"Just keep an eye out, I don't feel like he's near us. But I could be wrong. Whatever stealth Powers he has counter my own Sense Abilities," Fritz explained.
"That how it is, is it?" She asked.
"Yes. As a Scout, he outclasses me, which is to be expected with his higher level. Though that doesn't mean he can't be beaten, he can be hurt as easily as I can. If he doesn't have another defensive Ability, if he relies on evasion like I do," Fritz said.
"A lot of ifs," Lauren observed wearily.
"Well, we have to work with what we know. I was able to cut him and Cal's Treasure was able to tie him up, so he likely doesn't have much more to show us," he replied. "Now, give me a moment to think."
Fritz knew he should stay alert, and should keep his eyes out for the raider. But he felt he had to, just for a moment, check the offerings that burned coldly in his centre.
He dove into his Sanctum, appearing in his pavilion, right by the brazier of eldritch flame. It burned dimmer than usual, like it had lost some of its energy. Or perhaps, since it was merely a memory, he was already beginning to forget its terrible touch and warping weirdness. Maybe that was for the best, he didn't want to be offered another false choice like he had before.
Still, it made him worry, he didn't want it to go out completely, not after all the pain he had paid for it. He willed it to be less diffuse, to pull in on itself some more. It twisted and disobeyed, as he knew it would, so instead he focused on the brass brazier. It groaned under his will and shrank slightly, forcing the fire into smaller confines. The eldritch flame did not like this. It roiled and reached for him, furious grasping for anything it could catch and alight upon. He could almost hear it shrieking with searing rage as its blue-green burned brighter.
Fritz stepped back, easily avoiding it. He shook his head, he wasn't here for the flame and could deal with it later. Even if it was grimly satisfying to torment the fire that had hurt him so, it was nothing but a petty diversion. One he couldn't afford.
Distraction always seemed to press on him and threatened to pull him away, especially when stressed, as he was now. He wondered if it was his lack of Focus, but being honest, he had always been somewhat distractible. As likely to read a book as to climb a tree, even when he had been tasked with neither.
The offerings appeared before him, silvery glyphs humming subtly with their Power. He hoped dearly for something defensive or offensive. Something, anything, to tip a fight with Vaa'gur in his favour.
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Passive Ability
Choose One
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Poison Sense
Watch the wine glass, refuse the food. Could be poisoned, best be shrewd.
Increases your aptitude in detecting poison and venom to a minor degree.
Alignment: Mind, Sense.
Cost: None.
Duration: Passive.
Refresh: None.
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You have been exposed to venom.
You have mitigated the effects of venom.
Influenced by Sense Aligned Ability (Trap Sense, Danger Sense).
Influenced by Sense Aligned Trait (Door Sense).
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Quieted Steps
Feet can slap, hooves must clop, boots will crunch, I do not.
Decreases the amount of sound your steps produce to a minor degree.
Alignment: Shadow, Sound.
Cost: None.
Duration: Passive.
Refresh: None.
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You have slain a foe without being seen.
You have sprung an ambush while hidden.
You attempted to be stealthy and were successful more often than not.
Influenced by Technique 'The Observations'.
Influenced by Shadow Aligned Ability (Gloom Strike).
Influenced by Shadow Aligned Trait (Cloak of Dusk).
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Treasure Sense
Is it pretty? Is it shiny? Is it made of jewels and gold?
I can see it, I can touch it, it is mine to take and hold!
Increases your aptitude in detecting objects of value and Treasure Chests to a minor degree.
Alignment: Mind, Sense.
Cost: None.
Duration: Passive.
Refresh: None.
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You have discovered and acquired one Treasure Chest and aided in the recovery of one other.
Influenced by Sense Aligned Ability (Trap Sense, Danger Sense).
Influenced by Sense Aligned Trait (Door Sense).
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"Spire's spite. What am I to do?"
*Refresher for spire sheet.*
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Spire Readout
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Name: Francis Hightide
Level: 15
Path: Spy
Strain: Human
Sigil: Sunken Spire, Gold Award
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Attributes
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Strength:9
Agility: 9
Endurance: 9
Perception: 18
Focus: 10
Memory: 9
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Advanced Attributes
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Awareness: 18
Control: 9
Dusksong: 8
Grace: 6
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Activated 3/3
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Stone Pit
Gouge the stone, shift the ground, instant craters, holes abound.
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Gloom Strike
Weapon writhes, in shadow's grace, deliver foes, to night's embrace.
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Lethargy
Feeling tired? Getting slow? Take a rest, let it go.
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Passive 2/3
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Trap Sense
Pits and wire, falls and fire, discover danger, before it's dire.
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Danger Sense
Behind the boulder, up in the tree, lurking threats, can't hide from me.
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Trait 2/3
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Door Sense
Beyond the portal, behind the door, a brutal death or distant shore?
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Cloak of Dusk
Wrap yourself in twilight's cover, what's one shadow from another?
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Path 1/3
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Illusory Shadow - Evolution 1/3
Fake darkness, mocking light? Pseudo shadows, subdue sight.
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Technique 2/3
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The Observations (Novice)
Whittle away, scatter survive, poor prevail, covertly thrive.
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Arte Pugilist (Novice)
Strike, Slip, Punch, Kick, Dive, Skip, Grab, Flip.
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Strain 0/3
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+6 Unaligned
Comments
Scarhand
So, treasure sense or is this the time to gamble on the aberration seed that was foreshadowed not long ago?
