The Pinnacle Warrior

Astrid wordlessly swung her hammer backward. The brawler that was lunging towards her took the blow on its face, and though the kill notification flashed in her eyes, Astrid was too exhausted to feel pride. Instead, she threw Skandr over her shoulder as she activated Quick Recovery. The flash of cool relief that flowed through her muscles made her groan in pleasure, but she and her party were far from having escaped the danger.

Ahead of her, Muti ran without looking back. She had been willing to lead the way in their escape, and it was only because of Skandr’s light weight and Astrid’s Steady Load skill that she wasn’t carrying the Lightningmage herself. That she was severely wounded in the arm didn’t matter to her, but logic had fortunately swayed her opinion. As such, Muti sought out the best route forward, looking to find the best option for them to escape with their lives. This was the third gnoll that had reached them, each of them apparently buffed by a shaman that was following the party as well. Why they were able to go faster than their fellows, Astrid didn’t know, but that also didn’t matter.

“100 meters. Muti gasped. “We have arrived.”

Astrid didn’t say anything in response, merely continuing her rush forward. Skandr grunted, and she could feel the pulse of mana as he sent a couple lightning bolts behind them to continue driving their pursuers back. Her Power, Alacrity, and Fortitude worked together to keep her running while Skandr did everything he could to slow their foes and was, in fact, the only reason why they hadn’t been surrounded by the at least 20 gnolls that were currently in pursuit.

“I’ve got maybe two more lightning bolts in me. And I mean period.”

Astrid didn’t have anything to say to Skandr’s exhausted explanation, but she stepped forward as implacable as ever. In the stairway, she would be able to do something about their pursuers. For now, though, she only needed to continue fleeing. Once they were out of reach, then she could stand her ground.

“Oh, come on!” Before Skandr could say anything more to explain his shout, Astrid understood his frustration as three arrows smashed into her back. Fortunately, her shield was there, and it kept the attacks from doing anything more than sending more adrenaline coursing through her veins.

As soon as they got close enough for the party to begin ascending the staircase, Astrid dropped the mage to the ground and turned as she pulled her shield from her back. The gnolls would continue to pursue them into the passage between floors, but they wouldn’t be able to scale beyond halfway up the staircase until they had spent at least 12 hours within the bounds of the staircase’s bounds. All the party had to do to escape was get up the stairs. Unless… 

“Muti! Scout the top. Whoever it is that’s doing this keeps sending more after us. It could be that they managed to send more from the floor above to keep us pinned in.”

Astrid saw Muti‘s eyes narrow in anger as she processed what she’s been told, and she nodded as she rushed up the stairs. The rusty red club of hair at the tip of her war braid bounced behind her as she made her way up.

“I’ll do what I can. I can’t say anything more.” Skandr spoke before Astrid could ask as she turned to him. “I think that the draughts have done all that they can. Maybe if I had a mana potion I’d be back in the fight, but we all know that I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re the only reason why we got this far.” Astrid‘s voice was calmer than she intended. Somehow, she’d managed to fall into a state of acceptance, and she hoped that Muti wouldn’t find anything higher up the stairway. That being said, Astrid felt pretty sure that she knew that her hopes wouldn’t be coming true anytime soon. Astrid rolled her shoulders and started walking up the stairs backwards, keeping her shield between the three more arrows that flew from the fields towards Skandr’s back.

As soon as she set foot into the hallway proper, Astrid could hear the sounds of Muti‘s screams of pure rage and combat coming from above them.

“Once we get around the curve, you’re behind me. I’m going to try to push through until we can get to the point that we can’t be flaked by the monsters for another 12 hours. Do you understand?”

Skandr nodded as he pulled a sling out of his backpack.

“Never seen you use that.” Astrid said as she rushed ahead.

“For good reason. It’s probably better for me to use it as a club than anything else. I won’t use it unless I absolutely have to.”

“Good plan.”

Astrid sprinted up the stairs, and a part of her reveled in the strength that she was already recovering now that she had stopped carrying Skandr. With her Fortitude and Quick Recovery’s passive working together, scaling the stairs like this was almost a recuperation period. As she turned the fourth complete loop of the staircase, she saw Muti throwing herself like a rabid animal at the gnolls that were there. Her blades flashed through the air, even though her still heavily bleeding arm was slow and weak. Three brawlers punched at her and Astrid heard the Barbarian’s ribs crack from a particularly heavy blow.

Muti fell, and a pair of jaws savaged at her belly and pierced through to the flash under her armor. While the Barbarian tried to fight off the three attackers, the other two occupied her arms while the third continued to disembowel her. Astrid screamed in challenge, terror, and an animalistic emotion she couldn’t understand. She smashed the edge of her shield into one while her hammer smashed so hard into the other’s neck that it nearly decapitated it as it bit into the Rogue.

“Potions! At least three!”

She didn’t say anything else as she continued to throw herself with a maniacal all-encompassing rage. The gnolls were focused on the bleeding out Muti. Astrid didn’t pay attention to the blood slicked stairs, she didn’t listen to Skandr’s panicked commands to drink, she didn’t listen to the splashing of liquid, whether it be blood or potion behind her. No, she only needed to hear the gnolls’ screams.

Astrid smashed her hammer into one’s ribs, and it yelped. That wasn’t enough. She turned to the next and, as its fist smashed into her shield, she kicked into its knee. Its heel caught on the stair behind it, and its knee bent backwards as it screamed. When it fell, Astrid stomped down on its skull, and felt a perverse pleasure as she intimately felt the bones break. The one whose ribs had been broken was her next target, and she took one step to the side to allow herself to push off the wall, just enough to throw her whole weight and all her Power into smashing the partially crippled to gnoll against the other wall. A sickening squelching sound filled the area as a second death notification appeared in her vision.

The third seemed to think about fleeing, but as it turned, Astrid screamed, leapt, and brought it to the ground. Though another three gnolls stood there and rushed to press the attack, Astrid raised her shield high in her left hand and smashed the edge into the downed gnoll’s skull. It died and she raised herself back to her feet with a scream of challenge.

The rest of the battle passed in bursting of blood, cracking of bone, and flashes of kill notifications. Before long, Astrid was panting, barely keeping herself upright as she watched two ranger gnolls flee, yipping, into the second floor.

“Astrid.”

She turned and looked. The blood from her rampage had flowed down the stairs towards Skandr and Muti. The Rogue continued to breathe, but her body was far from healthy. Her skin, usually the deep brown of fertile soil, was chalky and pale while her eyes fluttered open and, seemingly against her own will, closed.

“Muti?” Astrid kept herself between the second floor and her two party members as she lowered herself to her right knee to look and possibly exchange the final words with Muti.

“I am sorry.” The words seemed to stick in Muti’s throat. “I am weak. I could not kill the shaman, and they found us because I am weak. Take what I have that is of value, and leave me.”

“Oh, she’s actually insane.” Astrid couldn’t help herself as she said the words. Her rage and fear melded into an emotion that was just plain frustration. “You think I’m going to leave you behind after spending three potions on you? You gotta make us a couple gold in return! And I’ll have you know that I am the worst kind of loanshark.”

“I am not insane, I am the only one of us who knows how to listen. Victory before death and blood before—

“Yeah, I know what you’re going to say. I’m not a damn Barbarian, so listen to my heathen, stupid Human ways and get the hell over here so we can get you out of here.”

“I will not permit you to—”

“You think you have a damn choice? Hell no. It’s not going to happen.”

Despite everything else, Astrid felt a spring of hope. This was obviously a better situation than what had happened with Bertrand. Potions scaled quite a bit off of an individual’s existing Fortitude, and Muti’s Fortitude was quite high for a Rogue.

Muti’s lips pursed together as she scowled up at her two party members. She turned to look at Skandr, seemingly in the hopes that he would give her an answer she wanted, but he chuckled low in his throat.

“Look, Astrid’s just saying what I would say. She’s less scared of you than I am, but right now, even I could take you in a fight. I mean, you’ll struggle to get on your feet, so I could fight you.”

“You are weak. That is not…” Muti gathered herself, the fire returning immediately at the challenge from a “weak” mage. “You do not understand the shame that you bring upon me.”

“We talked about what we want, and now you’re just giving up on it?” Astrid scoffed, leaving the point Muti was making behind. “You talk about pushing anyone who challenges you from the peak of a mountain. Now, you’re going to give up because you lost a fight? That’s pathetic. What mountain path doesn’t demand you struggle?”

“I am not pathetic! I am reasonable, and I deserve this.”

“Skandr, do you have an extra sock? I think it might have a place in her mouth.”

“While I’m not as scared of her right now as I usually am, I’m nowhere near crazy enough to answer that question in the positive or negative.”

Muti’s eyes narrowed as she didn’t quite understand the insinuation that Astrid was making, but the Warrior left no doubt.

“If you continue to talk this way, I will gag you and drag you up in front of the entire Guild. I will hold you in my arms like an infant, and I will baby you in front of everyone. I will treat you as a weak, insignificant individual, just so long as it will help you to learn and to understand that I am not kidding with you. This is reality, that I will save your life, and you will accept it, and you will delve with me for many years to come. Do I make myself understood?”

Muti’s glower darkened further, but something in her face seemed to soften.

“You are my bound.” Muti whispered. “If you demand it, I will follow.” 

“Then listen to my demand. Muti Rogue, you will survive. You will thrive. You will stay by my side, and we will see greater depths of the Dungeon than ever before. We will live our dreams, and you will not. Ever. Give. Up.”

Muti’s face cracked with a small smile as she nodded. Then, disregarding the viscera in the hallway, the snarls of gnolls further down in the stairway, and the fact that they were in the Dungeon, she pulled her helmet from her head before she lowered her head and met Skandr’s eyes.

“You have saved my life in strict disregard to my weakness. I do not understand you, but I do thank you.” Then, she pulled his head forward, wetted her lips with the blood from her arm, and kissed his forehead. Strangely, Skandr recoiled a little bit at the movement. Muti didn’t seem at all surprised by this and gestured for Astrid to take off her helmet. Curious, she pulled at the buckles under her chin, undid the laces of her arming cap, and then stood in front of Muti.

“Despite our differences, you have allowed yourself to be bound with me. I see the hatred you have for my people, the disgust you have in your soul whenever you are compared to me. I see the bile in your throat and the murderous intent in your blood. Even so, you have permitted me to delve alongside you. I thank you, leader. I thank you, Astrid.”

Astrid lowered her head enough for Muti to press her bloody lips to her forehead, just as she’d done to Skandr. As soon as the Barbarian’s blood touched her skin, Astrid understood why Skandr startled backwards.

Muti’s blood had been on Astrid dozens of times by now, possibly even a hundred times. Each time, it had been unremarkable when it made contact with her. This time though, Astrid felt a shock that was not dissimilar from what she had felt the few times that Skandr had been unable to correctly aim his magic. The shock traveled strangely into her neck, and Astrid fought to hold herself still.

“My companions. My… Friends.” Muti’s voice cracked on the last word. Then, with small tears threatening at the corner of her eyes, she gathered both of her party members into a hug. Skandr grumbled something under his breath about getting blood all over himself, but he didn’t resist at all. Of course, neither did Astrid, who was already covered in the gnolls blood and viscera.

“Count me as your friend.” Astrid said, as she did, she felt something in her demand that she tell the Barbarian and mage about her own history.

“I want to tell you about my family tonight. When we get back to town, I will tell you about why I’ve been secretly, or not so secretly, unhappy with you, Muti.”

“I offer my companionship and my listening ear. I will grant my council when it is welcome, and when it is not, I will give it all the same.”

Despite the serious air with which Muti’d said the words, Astrid couldn’t help but giggle a little. This was, evidently, something that either Barbarians as a whole or Muti specifically would do as a pledge of their friendship, but Astrid couldn’t help but think of what they were implying by those words.

“Well, that’s probably better than most friends I’ve ever had.” Skandr chuckled. “Never had anyone willing to give me advice that I wasn’t ready to hear. Well, not from a friend. Counselors and leaders, yes, but never a friend.”

“When have you ever been in a position to have a Counselor?”

“Not the Class, Astrid. All that I was trying to say meant something like a teacher or something. I’m not sure what an actual Counselor would ever do for me, given that they all work for nobility.”

“And if you were secret nobility or something like that, you would tell us?” Astrid demanded.

Muti cocked her head to the side. “Do not all nobles love to flaunt their status? It is my understanding that when one gains a noble class or is from a noble family, they enjoy to lord it over those who they come in contact with. Is there something about nobles that I do not understand?”

“It’s something that stories about delvers sometimes talk about.” Skandr shook his head wryly. “I suppose me saying something like that could get someone thinking that it was a slip of the tongue, but do you really think that I would live the way that I have if I was some runaway Noble? I can’t imagine ever allowing myself to suffer that way willingly. Never spending good money? Nearly dying a dozen times over?”

“So do you promise?” Astrid insisted.

“I don’t need to promise, I can tell you right now. I’m not a noble, I’m not even from a full family. My mom‘s Class was Servant, and she worked for a Merchant in my hometown. In the usual ‘story book’ manner, she fell in love with his son, who was a year younger than her. When he got his Class, it was Wizard. Pretty uncommon for someone whose training was entirely focused on merchantry to get that Class, but he was happy enough I suppose.

“With that Class and his father’s disapproval of his relationship with Mom, he decided that it would be better to be a delver than to be a Merchant, and he set about learning some spells. I have a book in my room, it’s kinda interesting. Anyways.

“He didn’t make it to Iron.

“After he died, mom needed to get back to working. With me in tow, there wasn’t much that mom could do but work as much as she could. It’s cliche, but she got sick one winter while she was between work and then she died. Now, here I am six years later, and I can say that I have never had a true friend or family at 19 years old. So. Is that enough of an answer for you? Closest thing to Noble blood that I’ve got is that my grandfather, may he continue loving money over family, once sold some shipment to a Noble. I guess it was a story he told often, but I never met the man.”

Astrid opened her mouth to say something, but instead, the words choked her. Skandr’d spoken with a careless tone, but there was pain there he disregarded. With her forehead still tingling for whatever it was that Muti’d given her with the blood-sealed kiss, Astrid rearmed herself.

“Let’s get out of here.”